The Perfect “10”
Ms. Jackson, Ms. Jackson

 

Love Lessons Excerpt

Ms. Jackson, Ms. Jackson

     In the three years I’d been at Howard, there was never any one girl that I had really been interested in. I mean, I went out with a lot of girls, a hell of a lot, but nothing serious. Most of them were just jocking me because I played ball.
      Being a captain on the basketball team did have its advantages. Pulling females was one of them. Also, having females think you’re fine added to my pulling power. It wasn’t like I went out chasing these girls. Many times—actually most of the time—they were right there, handing themselves to me on a silver platter. And there was no way I was going to turn down all of them.
     Of course, there were a few girls who would say I was the biggest dog on campus. But I didn’t see it that way. Plus, I found out girls talk a lot of smack when they’re around their friends. There was this AKA from Richmond, VA who was always talking about how big a dog I was. But once she wasn’t around her girls, she was all up in my face—and in my pants. I could call her at anytime, day or night, and she’d let me come over.
      It’s not like I wasn’t honest with all the girls I went out with. I told them I wasn’t trying to have a girlfriend. I had tried the girlfriend thing freshman year and it didn’t work for me. Once we broke up, my fun really began.
      There were a few girls here and there who started liking me after we kicked it but the feelings weren’t mutual. Besides, my music was my first priority, and I wasn’t going to let anything, especially some female, interfere with that.
      Howard, hell all of D.C. for that matter, had no shortage of fine women. When my boys came down from New York, they wouldn’t know what to do with themselves. They acted like kids in a candy store. They couldn’t understand why I wasn’t as hyped as they were. All those girls didn’t faze me. No girl on that campus had yet to really turn my head. That was until Stacey.
      Stacey Jackson was beautiful. She had the kind of beauty that caught you off guard. Everything about her was so natural that you almost didn’t notice her. But right when you thought you hadn’t seen her, you realized you most definitely had. She had the most gorgeous mocha-colored skin I had ever seen, lovely brown eyes and the kind of smile that made a brother melt like chocolate. Not to mention a body that could bring you to your knees. She was thick as hell! From head to toe, everything about that girl was sexy.
      One of the main reasons why I never gave any of the other girls on campus too much of my time was because they might have had the looks and the body but not the mind. I was attracted to Stacey because not only was she fine but she was also smart. The girl had a 3.6 grade point average in finance. She was a Delta and vice president of the NAACP chapter on campus. She had plans for her future. She wasn’t in college just to get a man like a lot of the girls on campus.
      I had been seeing Stacey around campus since our freshman year. I wanted to step to her plenty of times, but two things stopped me—her twin brothers, Kevin and Devin. They had finished undergrad at Howard the year before, but were still on campus going to grad school and they made it known she was their little sister and anybody who messed with her would get his ass kicked. So for a long time, nobody really stepped to her.
      Then my boy Dave finally introduced me to her after a game during our sophomore year. Man, I wanted to step to her then but she was talking to this kid, Pat, who played ball with us. Pat got on my damn nerves—more than likely because he was with Stacey. But besides that, he was always talking about his father owning his own accounting firm in Jersey. I was like big deal. My pops owned a club and two restaurants in Brooklyn.
      I didn’t know what to do about Stacey. I really wanted to get with her. I wasn’t really trying to be ruthless but when I heard Pat was going back to Jersey for the summer, I figured I’d stay in D.C. and keep his girl company. As far as I was concerned, what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. He didn’t know what to do with a girl like Stacey anyway. She needed a real man. And I was just the man for the job.

* * * * *

     I was on my way home from playing some ball when I decided to drive through campus. Summer school was over, and there was about two weeks before the fall semester started so I knew there wouldn’t be too much action.
      After running into a couple of my boys down near Ben’s Chili Bowl, I headed home. I turned onto Georgia Avenue and who did I see walking her sexy self down the street, but Ms. Jackson. I made it up in my mind right then that I was going to start making some serious moves on her.
      I made a quick, illegal U-turn and pulled up alongside her. I rolled the window down and leaned over the passenger seat.
      "What’s up, girl?”
      She looked in my direction, smiled and waved. “Hey, what’s up?”
      As she walked toward the truck, I could see one of her big, beautiful legs peeking through the long split in her wrap skirt. I was loving the view.
      One thing I really liked about Stacey was she was very sexy, but she never wore clothes that flaunted it. You’d see some girls around campus wearing bootie shorts with their butt cheeks hanging out and halters that had most of their breasts showing, but not Stacey. She wore things like the orange wrap skirt she had on, that was form fitting and gave you a little glance at what was underneath.
      Stacey leaned on my truck door and pulled off her orange-tinted shades. Her beauty almost took my breath away. I had to make myself not stare. Her lips were glistening from her lip-gloss. I wanted to lean over and kiss her, but I had to take my time and be patient with this girl.
      "What’s up, Ms. Jackson?”
      "Nothing much, Mr. Morgan. What’s up with you?”
      "I’m chillin’. What you doin’ up here?”
      "I had to drop a class and now I’m going to the bookstore.”
      "Oh. Would you mind if I walked with you?”
      She cracked a sexy smile. “No, I wouldn’t mind.”
      I parked the truck, and we walked down to the bookstore. As Stacey looked for her book, I stayed near the door watching her. The more I watched her, the more I began to wonder how that busta Pat got with her. She was too much woman for a small timer like him. I needed to know what she saw in him.
      As we walked back toward the School of Business, I decided I would get the scoop on the two of them.
      "So, ah, how are you and Pat doing?”
      "We’re chillin’.”
      "So, y’all still kickin’ it hard, huh?”
      "We’re, ah, kickin’ it…soft,” Stacey replied, smiling.
       Her response seemed promising. I had seen Stacey staring at me from time to time so I kind of figured there was a little something there on her part too. After our afternoon at Hains Point, I knew at least the potential was there. Pat or no Pat, I was determined to get with her. Not that I was trying to be ruthless or anything but I wasn’t going to let an opportunity to get with Stacey slip through my fingers. The way I saw it, Pat should have been in D.C. handling his business.
      "Can I ask you a question?” I asked. “And you don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to.”
      Stacey smiled. “Go ’head.”
      "What the hell do you see in Pat?”
      She laughed and said, “What?”
      "Naw, for real, I just want to know.”
      "Patrick’s cool.”
      "Whatever.”
      "No, for real, when he’s with me, he’s totally different than when everybody else is around.”
      I just looked at her. She could say whatever she wanted. Patrick wasn’t cool. He was a pain in the butt. Always walking around like he was God’s gift to the world.
      "Come on now. That’s a hell of a jump. He goes from Prince Charming with you to asshole with everybody else.”
      "Oh, I didn’t say he was necessarily Prince Charming.”
      "What made you get with him in the first place?”
      "I don’t know. He’s cute,” she said, smiling.
      "Please, there are probably a lot of dudes on campus who fit that criteria.”
      She smiled and said, “Oh yes, there are others,” looking at me. Stacey could throw a sexy look at you that would tell you exactly what she meant and that look was telling me something for sure.
     "For real though, Patrick is cool. It’s just that he has a lot of stuff going on in his life and for the most part, that’s why he acts the way he does.”
     "Whatever you say,” was my response. He was still an asshole as far as I was concerned.
      When we got back to Stacey’s red 1998 Ford Mustang, I opened the door for her.
      "Mmm, a gentleman,” she said.
      I smiled.
      "You don’t find too many of them around here,” she continued.
      "Maybe you’ve been looking in the wrong places.” Her response was a slightly blushing smile.
      "Anyway, thank you, Mr. Morgan, for keeping me company.”
      "Anytime.”
      She got into her car and quite deliberately pulled her leg inside slowly because she knew I was looking. I reiterated, “Anytime, at all.” She smiled and put her orange-tinted shades back on.
      As I watched her drive away, I knew for sure I had a chance to get with her. She was sending out some inviting signals, and I was definitely going to accept the invitation.
      When I got back to the crib, there were several messages. Most of them were from my boys Ced, Myles and Dre. Those brothers could worry the hell out of me sometimes.
      I didn’t really feel like talking to any of them right then. I realized I hadn’t eaten anything all day. I should have been hungry but I wasn’t. I changed my clothes and lay across my bed. Stacey, Stacey, Stacey. I couldn’t remember the last time a girl had me tripping like that. I could still see her big, beautiful leg peeking through the split of that orange skirt. It looked so soft and smooth. All I wanted to do was run my hands over her legs. I really wanted that girl. The bad thing was I didn’t know if I wanted to get with her because she was mad cool or because she was one of the females on campus who I had wanted to pull but never had. Regardless, it was on.

 

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