date night

January 15, 2087. Aliyah Sylvester is 26. Angelo Shaw is 24.


Date night...



A "friendly" date.


A brothers date.


A first date.




Aliyah and Angelo had seen three movies now, as friends. Over the holidays and between both of their work schedules, they considered that pretty successful. They couldn't recall now how they managed to have so much sex last summer that she ended up pregnant. Now, she was constantly tired, and he was working as many scraps as he could find, and a Wednesday night movie was the best they could do.

They both enjoyed the movie. They agreed that it was the right amount of romantic without being corny. They disagreed about the tone of the ending, but discussed its artistic merits without belittling each other. They gossiped about their work, his fumbling lawsuits and her glamorous cocktail parties. "I almost came out to see you on New Year's Eve," he said. "Almost."

"Why didn't you?"

"I couldn't afford the ticket price. Hot damn, that place is rich."

"It is," she said. "In honesty, if I didn't work there, I couldn't afford it myself."


It pleased Aliyah to know that she and Angelo could hold an actual conversation. What had scared her the most was that she didn't know him. She was having his baby, but she hardly knew anything about him. The sex had been good, clearly, but that wasn't the same thing as being in love. Could it ever become love? Should it? She wanted to date him, she wanted to know him, so that was what they were doing now. Maybe they were doing things a little bit backwards.

"Just curious," she started, "You don't have to say—but... why are you so broke? I would have thought a law degree would get you somewhere."

"I’m helping out my mom with her rent," he said. "Like I told you, my dad is... um, indisposed. You know, my mom never worked a job in her life before he got put away. She stayed at home with us, she took care of the house. So, it was... worrying for us all. I was seventeen then, so there wasn't a lot I could do. We sold off what we were allowed to keep, and she was really adamant that I use some of the money to go to college. So I thought, I better make it worth it. That was how law school happened. I had it in my head that maybe I could help my dad with his prison sentence, and lawyers make money, so I could help my mom, too. Well, law school is expensive and not very lucrative to start. My sister, Devon, she hates me most of the time, but you should have seen the house we grew up in. Not legit, of course, but it was incredible. We never wanted for anything. And I just don't want her life to change because my dad made some mistakes. Well, so that's where most of the money goes—to them. The rent on my apartment is hardly anything. Oh, but I’ll have some left over for you and the baby, don’t worry. I've got some things in the works. I know this guy who knows this guy who needs a drug tester in his labs. Free drugs, no joke. I mean, totally legit, though. One hundred percent above the table for me, taxes and everything."


"You're sweet, Angelo."

"Nah."

"Yeah, in your way, you kind of are," she said.


"Hey, that was fun. Let's do it again some time. How about now?"

"Angelo, I need to sleep. I'm beat. Pregnant, remember. I can't stay up without sleep like we used to."


She didn't invite him up to her apartment anymore. That was against the rules of this "friendly" arrangement they had, he supposed. So he walked her home safely and stood with her in the lobby of her building, thinking about last summer and her soft curves and her warm, warm bed. It was cold outside now. "So, good night. Hug, or? ..."

Then she kissed him.




"Was that okay?" she asked.

"Okay? Hell yeah, it was okay. Fine by me. Hugs or tongue kisses, I like both. I like sleepovers, too. Just so you know. Wouldn't want to leave that option off the table."

She laughed. "Maybe we'll see about sleepovers again after the baby is born. Good night, Angelo."


"Hell yeah!" he said. "Sleepovers are back on the table!"

—

footnotes: a friendly agreement