The First of Many

“Agh! Mom, chill!”

“Hold still, boy! We need your hair to look right.”

Dante made the mistake of telling his parents that he was going on a date that day. His parents, after giving him a speech about the wonders of celibacy, his mother and father would stay in the room and fix up Dante as they play the older records they heard back when they were kids. While Dante never minded when they play those tracks, who in their right mind would hate R&B after all? A little Tevin Campbell and Mint Condition never hurt anybody. In this case, over their old stereo Pops never bothered to replace, It was A House Is Not a Home by Luther Vandross.

Dad was sitting on his couch, drinking his water while humming the song surprisingly well. Mom chuckled. “You should’ve stayed in choir, Marcus.”

He scoffed. “Grace, that was how many years ago? And you know damn well you liked my singing.”

“Well, duh. Looked like a dark-skinned Usher with that buzzcut.” Both parents laughed.

Dante piped in. “You sang, Dad?”

Dad groaned as he tried to explain his past. “Well, yeah. It was for a spell when I wasn’t playing basketball. I tore my ACL, my momma wanted me to take up another hobby to get me out of the house. Kinda liked it too.”

“Why didn’t you continue?” Dante asked.

“Life happened. I met your momma I wanted to keep playing ball, and on top of you and Miro coming into our lives, Wasn’t in the cards.”

Dante looked slightly down when he mentioned his other brother, but he shrugged it off. “Well, you still got it, pops.”

Pops laughed as he got up, singing a part of the song, very similarly to Vandross himself.

Are you gonna be? Say you're gonna be

Well well, well well

Still in love, so in love, still in love with me

Are you gonna be?

Moms chuckled to herself as her husband left. Eventually, she finished the hair and smiled. “Ohh, look at you, a man now.”

Dante, slightly embarrassed, moved his head around. “Mom…”

“What, ain’t this your first date? It’s just like yesterday I was hearing you cry over the phone because you hated school.”

“That was years ago.”

“Still,” Mom said with a smile. “Where y’all going?”

“I was gonna watch her perform at another open mic night near the lake, then we’d hang out after that.”

“That’s good. What, she a singer or something?” Mom asked.

“Yeah. A real good one too, been making waves around the city, I hope she makes it far.”

“Hmm. Well, you better be back before it gets too dark.”

“I will, Mom.” He hugs her and leaves, walking over to the bus stop and riding his way over to Bradford Beach.

He wore the best cologne his father gave him before heading off. His choice of clothing was a nice red hoodie, ripped blue jeans, and some old Nikes since he was walking through the sand. Dante’s head was all over the place, and the pit of anxiety was slowly rising as he thought of what would Imani look like. She would be beautiful as usual. It was surprising she even said yes to him. But, he’d needed to grow confidence quickly to succeed in the date.

The bus reached the stop, and he walked near the beach to the nearby performing arts open area. The sun was near the beginning of its setting stage, making the beach look wonderful as the sun reflected against the calm waves, the clear blue skies turning a slightly darker shade.

Imani was right there, stunning Dante with how beautiful she looked in her black dress, her silver hoop earrings, and her braided hair in a ponytail. She didn’t wear much makeup except for the black eyeliner and lip gloss perfectly completing her outfit. The butterflies in his stomach fluttered with excitement as he walked up to her, a smile on his face. “Is that THE Hathor? Big fan.”

Imani rolled her eyes playfully as she saw her date joke with her. “Oh shut up. How was the trip over here?”

“Can’t complain. You look good. I would say cute but you’d probably tell me to shut up.”

She smirked at his words. “And you’d be right. You look much better. I love the hoodie.”

Dante scoffed, his face getting hot. “Thank you, but there’s no way on any planet I would look better than you of all people.”

After a little look at each other, a spark was felt, something they could both feel as they stared into each other’s eyes. Imani’s brown skin turned a slight pink as she looked at the stage. “I should…”

“...Yeah. I’ll be front row.”

“Sounds good.”

Dante opened his arms, inviting Imani for a hug. She accepted it, making Dante the happiest man that evening.

The spectators and people who got curious at the gathered, sitting on the black folding chairs to see who would perform next. The announcer stepped on stage, mic in hand. She was just as neatly dressed as Imani, with her black skirt and buttoned shirt. “Our next performer is making some waves around the city as a heartfelt singer. Please help me in welcoming: Hathor.”

The crowd politely clapped away as the woman herself stepped on stage with the guitar Dante saw back at the other mic night the other day. She sat on the stool, head down and began strumming a faster-paced tune, she tapped her feet aggressively as she played the melody.

This is heaven to me…
Don’t make it hell.
Don’t know if you love me
Don’t have to tell.

I can’t tell if it’s real or not
And it terrifies me.
I don’t want you to steal my heart
It break it behind me.

I just want you to be like me
And never tell a single soul
About your problems.
And that’s the problem.

I’m no good.
I’m no good.

But why you still pursue me?

The crowd claps, amazed at her passionate performance.

Dante clapped, but in the back of his mind, he was thinking.

“Was that… About us?”