Sleepyhead
by Adeola Adeniyi

We finally made love last Thursday three days after her seventeenth birthday and then the following Monday, Tuesday, and yesterday. She had some pretty good moves, but she wasn’t a whore. No doubt our lovemaking was why Roxanne felt cool with calling my house from a police precinct out in Coney Island and begging for me to come pick her up. I can’t act like she didn’t have a few problems in her life, but her calling from a precinct still surprised me. My gut just told me Fernando Riveria was responsible for her trouble. I still asked Roxanne why they arrested her and she swore a cop only accused her of attempting to draw on a train car because he saw her sketching in a notebook with a magic marker. I sucked my teeth but agreed to help Roxy because I loved her. She loved me. I knew I’d remember Foxy Roxy, her black hair past her back, and that Pangaea-sized ass of hers for the rest of my life. Even in old age when I forgot everything else, I’d still remember that butt. She thanked me for being the coolest big brother ever and I hung up, brushed my fade, and drove to the precinct.