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>Mood: MissIndependentByNe-Yo<
"Kamala, you really think it's a good idea to work with Obama? I mean, it's Obama, but you two have history," my sister Maya said, her tone half-serious, half-teasing. She tilted her head, giving me a knowing look. "Like deep, deep history," she added, doing a little shimmy dance for effect.
I shot her a glare, but the corners of my lips betrayed me, threatening to curl into a smile. "Yes, Maya, I can control myself. I'm grown now, with more boundaries," I said firmly, hoping to shut down the conversation.
Maya raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Devi, look at you. You're blushing!" she said, pointing at me like she'd caught me red-handed.
I rolled my eyes, brushing a piece of hair behind my ear, trying to compose myself. "I am *not*," I said defensively. "And besides, we haven't... done anything. I don't even remember the last time."
Lying. I was lying, and Maya knew it. I could still remember every detail of the last time. The rain, the joint, the way Barack looked at me in the car just before—God. That man.
Maya smirked knowingly, but thankfully, she let it slide. "Well, speaking of men, I'm setting you up on a date," she said, her tone casual but her words deliberate.
My eyes widened in disbelief. "What? No, Maya. I can't. I'm too busy."
"You can, and you will," she said firmly, crossing her arms. "He's a nice guy. Sweet. And... he's *different,* Devi."
"Different how?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at her suspiciously.
Maya leaned in like she was sharing a state secret, lowering her voice to a whisper. "He's white."
I blinked, letting her words hang in the air before replying. "Yup, that's different alright."
She laughed, shaking her head. "Come on, Kamala. He's a great guy. His name's Doug."
I sighed, leaning back in my chair. "Fine. Let me see a picture."
Maya pulled out her phone, scrolling for a moment before holding it out to me.
I squinted at the photo, then tilted my head. "Maya... he has no lips," I said flatly, trying to keep a straight face.
"But he has a nice nose," I added, stifling a laugh. "I'll give you that. I try."
"That was so uncalled for," she said, shaking her head and trying not to laugh herself.
"Well, that's what you get for meddling in my business," I shot back, grinning.
____________ TwoDaysLater
Barack was supposed to be at my office at six-thirty. It was now seven, and he still hadn't shown up. I glanced at my watch, irritation bubbling to the surface. I had a dinner date with Doug, and now I was running behind. Sighing, I started packing up my things to leave when there was a knock at the door.
"Come in," I called out, my voice sharper than I intended.
The door opened, and there he was, looking slightly disheveled but unfazed. "Kamala," Barack said, stepping inside, "I know, I'm late, and I'm sorry. I got held up."
"And you didn't think to call?" I shot back, raising an eyebrow.
Before he could respond, I cut him off, motioning toward the chair in front of my desk. "Sit down. Let's get this over with."
Barack took a seat, his expression calm but his eyes watching me intently.
"I've been thinking," I said, sitting back down. "You should announce your run for presidency with something big—something for the people. A block party. It could be a great way to connect with the community while raising funds for your campaign."
I stood up, gathering my things as I spoke. "We don't have time to really go over the details right now. I have to go."
Barack frowned, standing as well. "Wait—where are you going?"
"I have a date," I said casually, slinging my bag over my shoulder.
"A date? With who?" he asked, his tone sharper than necessary.
I froze for a moment, then turned to face him. "Barack," I said firmly, "that is none of your business."
I started for the door, but before I could reach it, he stepped in front of me, blocking my path. His tall frame loomed over mine, his presence impossible to ignore.
"Kamala," he said, his voice lower now, "you know I'm going to find out eventually, so you might as well tell me."
I narrowed my eyes, trying to sidestep him, but he moved with me, cutting off my escape. His closeness made my heart race, and I hated how he could still do that to me after all this time.
Without thinking, I stepped closer, my voice dropping to a whisper. "You want me, don't you?" I said, biting my bottom lip.
He didn't answer, his jaw tightening as his eyes locked on mine.
I reached up, placing my hands on either side of his face. "Say it, baby," I murmured, my lips just inches from his.
Barack's lips parted as if he were about to respond, but before he could speak, I slapped him across the face—not hard, but enough to break the moment.
And then I ran.
"Damn it, Devi!" he shouted after me, his voice echoing down the hallway. "I will get your ass!"
I didn't take the elevator—I took the stairs, my heels clicking rapidly against the concrete steps as adrenaline coursed through me. I couldn't help but grin to myself as I made my way out of the building.
I still got him. _______________________________________
How are we feeling....??? I'm little insecure about this story I have no clue why... 😭😭