New Year. New Man. Who Dis? (FICTION)
Graphic Design by Kay P. Beck
Me: I’m pulling up outside.
Jamar: Ai’ight. Here I come.
“Um, excuse me. My friend is on his way down to open the door for me. Would you mind sitting here for a minute so I don’t have to stand out in the cold?” The Uber driver smiles, flashes his gold tooth, and puts the car in park. At least the ride over here was quiet, but every time I’d look up he’d wink. Thirty or not its always creepy when men old enough to be my Daddy flirt. I hope Jamar puts a little pep in his step to come open the door. I’m ready to party. Funny thing is, up until yesterday my New Years Eve plan was to lounge on the couch in my pajamas with a glass of wine and watch the ball drop on TV. Then Jamar texted me and asked me to go to some house party with him. I hesitated for all of three seconds. Anything sounded better than what I had scheduled.
Last year I brought in the New Year in the Poconos with my ex-boyfriend Dre. That was three months before he would decide he wasn’t ready for a serious relationship. He still texts and calls from time to time, but I keep things light. That “we can still be friends” line is just a front. I’d rather he lose my number all together. I heard he’s about to be a father soon, but whatever. Everything happens the way it’s supposed to. I don’t regret my time with him. It taught me a lot about myself. Jamar has been a breath of fresh air.
We’ve known each other our entire lives. Our mother’s used to be best friends. To this day I’m not sure why they fell out, but whatever it is, it’s serious enough where Mom rolls her eyes whenever I mention Aunt Angie’s name. Jamar went away to Ghana to work in the Peace Corps a few years ago, so I was surprised when Aunt Angie emailed me saying he was moving to New York. I hadn’t seen him since college graduation, so imagine my surprise when a tall, handsome, well groomed man walked into the coffee shop. When I stood up to greet him I remember thinking, “Damn the motherland was good to him.” He wasn’t the scrawny, clumsy guy I remembered. His posture was upright, his stride strong, and he’d gained a few pounds of muscle.
“Is that your friend,” the Uber driver asks snapping me out of my trance. I look over and Jamar is holding the door open wearing a black tuxedo. We’ve been hanging out as best friends for the past six months attending football games, concerts, and even a couple of museums. We have fun together. He has an interesting perspective on life. His style is always simple, but tonight he pulled out the stops. He looks good. The you-lucky-I’ve-known-you-all-of-my-life-or-this-boss-would-have-to-wife-you-and-risk-it-all kind of fine. Word to Drake.
“Yes, thank you,” I say stepping out of the car. He wore a tuxedo for a house party? Well, I guess it is New Year’s Eve. Thankfully, I chose my gold metallic Tome karate pants, a black turtleneck, Christian Louboutin booties, and gold accessories. It’s always better to be overdressed, but this time it looks like I got it just right.
“You look beautiful Dana,” Jamar says greeting me with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
He smells even better than he looks. Okay, I have to get it together.
“Thank you. You look pretty spiffy yourself.”
He laughs.
Once we make our way up to the apartment, there is a serious “no phone” policy until five minutes before the New Year. Women are to leave their phones in one basket, and men in the other. Smart for couples not getting their phones mixed up. I’m sure this was a guys' idea. The hosts are Jamar’s friend Thomas and his girlfriend Sherry.
“The only rule is to have fun with the people in the apartment, not the ones in your phone,” Thomas laughs extending the basket.
Reluctantly, I turn over my iPhone. There looks to be about thirty people throughout the apartment. Jamar’s friends are nice and inviting. Then again, most of them are already tipsy. Everyone is nice when they’re nice. This is a pretty successful group of friends, too. From professors, designers, ad execs, and a few of Jamar’s classmates from the Journalism school at Columbia. I refuse to be stuck to his hip all night so I work the room on my own. The energy is light and fun. I’ve made my way to the kitchen twice already to refill my glass with whatever special punch they’ve concocted. Thomas is the DJ and he is playing all the jams. He blasts Future’s Slick Talk and everyone starts dancing.
“FIVE MINUTES UNTIL THE NEW YEAR!” Sherry screams over the music. Everyone screams then rushes over to grab our phones. The official count down is on mute on the television in the living room.
I’m having a deep conversation about something with a girl who can’t stop laughing at everything I say. I’m too tipsy to care. Jamar makes his way over and asks to borrow me for a second. I’ve never been so thankful for an interruption.
“So what’s your New Year’s resolution?” From the gloss over his eyes, I can tell he’s made a few trips to the kitchen himself.
“Um, to be my best self,” I say giving a generic answer. I don’t believe in New Year resolutions. “What about you?”
“To stop being afraid, and go after what I want in life. Life is too short to be hesitant ya know?”
I shake my head surprised by his honesty.
“OKAY HERE WE GO PEOPLE,” Sherry yells. “5,4,3,2,1….HAPPY NEW YEAR! Before I can scream, Jamar grabs me and kisses me so deeply and with so much passion I feel like I’m being lifted off the ground. I can’t help but to kiss him back. His lips are soft and gentle. The tight grip he has on my waist suggests something else. My heart is beating a mile a minute. We finally break.
“Look Dana, I’ve been trying to tell myself you’re like family, but I can’t stop thinking about you. Our energy suggest otherwise. I want to be with you. So will you be my girlfriend. Check yes, no, or maybe,” he says laughing. I feel myself blushing like a giddy teenager. I smile and go in for another kiss to answer his question. My phone beeps.
Dre: Happy New Year Dana! I was just thinking about what we were doing this time last…
Who?
I delete the message without a second thought.
