Sweatpants Season

by Danielle Allen

  Country Boy stifled a laugh.

  I didn’t know what to do or say so I just sat there, eyes narrowed, and mouth set in a straight line.

  “I’m getting tired of telling you to chill, City,” Carlos warned. “This is supposed to be a conversation. So, converse and stop with the other shit.”

  City Boy stared at Carlos for a tense thirty seconds. “For those of you who don’t know, Los Cabos collaborated on a little project for Re-Mix magazine with A. Bishara. So, if you’re wondering why all of a sudden Los is a little more vocal tonight, that’s why. But fine...” Turning his attention to me, he smirked. “Let’s switch gears. I don’t want to get your panties twisted.”

  I scowled. Opening my mouth to respond, I was interrupted.

  “Bishara, can I ask you a question?” Country Boy inquired, speaking up for the first time in a while.

  “Yes.”

  “What is your main issue with Date Night?”

  “Like I said, the disrespect, the use of emotional manipulation, and the objectification of women,” I answered.

  “How do we objectify women?” City Boy asked.

  Is he serious? My eyebrows furrowed.

  “You talk about women as sex objects as opposed to people. You sexualize women in your advice and even in the conversation that we’re having, you’ve put more emphasis on my looks and my sex life than on the things I’m saying.”

  “Women objectify men, too,” City Boy argued.

  “Not to the degree that men objectify women. Not to the degree that you and this show objectifies women,” I countered, adding several examples from the podcasts I’d listened to and from the show. “And if we did, men wouldn’t know how to handle it.”

  “Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay,” City Boy cut me off with a laugh. “But you’re telling me that women don’t sit around and compare muscles and dick sizes of the men they’re sleeping with?”

  “What I’m saying is that you give advice as if women aren’t human beings with the right to decide what they want to do with their lives. For instance, we have the right to turn down dates from people we don’t want to date We have the right to say no. We have the right to not participate in threesomes. We have the right to do whatever the hell we want. When you give advice that aims to not only take away that right but treat us as if we are here for your pleasure, you’re treating us like objects.”

  City Boy made a skeptical face. “So, you’ve never checked out a man’s package before?”

  My thoughts immediately went to Carlos in his sweatpants. Heat crept up my neck as the thought of how we spent our time prior to the interview.

  I cleared my throat. “I check out the whole package—starting with the things that he says, the way he thinks.”

  “City has a point,” Country Boy interjected. “Have you seen the way women react at strip clubs?”

  “I’m not talking about in strip clubs. I’m talking about the way you objectify every day women who are going about their lives. Just because they have breasts doesn’t give you the right to ogle them, to sexualize them, to...” I exhaled, trying to keep cool and choose my words carefully. “You know what you did and it’s wrong.”

  “And what did we do?” City Boy asked, a slow smile spreading on his face.

  I narrowed my eyes. “You already know.”

  “Well we’re almost out of time, but for those listening, I think she’s talking about the special shout out we gave her in the newsletter.”

  I looked at Carlos to see his brows furrowed.

  “All of this because of a little shout out in our newsletter?” Country Boy exclaimed with a laugh.

  Staring pointedly at City Boy, I repeated myself. “You know what you did and it’s wrong.”

  Licking his lips, City Boy smiled cunningly. “But seeing the look on your face is worth it.” He winked. “Okay, that’s it for tonight. Tune in next week and we’ll answer more of your emails. We’ll have the Date Night O.G. that you won’t want to miss. I’m City Boy—”

  “I’m Country Boy…”

  “And I’m Los Cabos.”

  “And this is Date Night with The Lost Boys,” the three of them said in unison.

  “We’re off air,” Carlos announced, standing up. “What the fuck is going on, Bryant?”

  City Boy laughed, sliding his headphones off. He stretched his arms above his head. “I should be asking you the same thing, Carlos.” He pointed at me. “She got in your head? We’re supposed to have a difference of opinion, but goddamn, you acted like your job was to protect her honor.”

  “You were being disrespectful,” Carlos informed him with a clenched jaw.

  “She got the same treatment anyone else would get. You were the one acting different.” City Boy looked at Country Boy. “Back me up, Quentin.”

  “Come on,” Country boy sighed. “You two have been getting into it over bullshit ever since we took over this show. It’s always something. We only have three more months left and then it’s done.”

  City Boy raised his hands in surrender. “It’s Los acting like he’s in his feelings. I was just doing an interview and providing quality entertainment.”

  Carlos ran his hand down his face. “You were being an asshole and disrespecting Akila. You—”

  “Oh, it’s Akila, now,” City Boy taunted, egging him on.

  “B, Los is always keeping you in check. And Los, B’s an asshole to everybody.” Country Boy glanced at me. “But it’s not like she didn’t shit on us in her article.”

  “That’s my whole point,” City Boy grumbled, rising to his feet. “And when I told you about the article, you were mad about it, too. And now you’re up here defending her. You stand with your bros at all times. You don’t switch up because a chick comes in here with a short ass skirt on.”

  Carlos rubbed his hands together. “I didn’t switch up. I thought her article was an unfair portrayal of who we are. But I’m not going to let you disrespect her.”

  City Boy walked around the table. “Let me?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I said.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Yo, come on now,” Country Boy yelled. “Over some chick? Really?”

  City Boy shrugged. “Date Night has been on for almost ten years and in the final few months of our year, we’re getting scrutinized thanks to her. Come on, man.”

  “You’re getting scrutinized because what I’m saying is valid.” I stood, smoothing down the front of my dress. “I’ll see myself out.”

  “Thanks for being a guest today. It was a pleasure.” Sarcasm dripped from City Boy’s words.

  I rolled my eyes. Turning on my heels, I stormed toward the door.

  “Akila, wait. I’ll walk you out.”

  I looked over my shoulder. “It’s cool. Sounds like you guys have a lot to talk about.” Without another word, I walked out the door.

  “Akila!”

  Even though I heard Carlos call out to me, I didn’t look back. I hesitated for a second, but the click of the door behind me made my decision for me

  “Let her go, man.” City Boy’s voice traveled as he screamed. “We need to get this prepped and uploaded.”

  “And I’ll take care of it in a minute,” Carlos barked back before I heard his footsteps down the hall. “Akila!”

  I slowed and waited for him to catch up.

  “You held your own in there,” he informed me as he fell into step with me. “Did you get what you wanted to get out of it?”

  “I did. I hope people will realize that the whole show is trash.” I smirked. “Maybe with one exception.”

  “Oh, just maybe?” His hand grazed mine and my stomach flipped.

  “Maybe. The jury is still out.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “Are we still cool?”

  “Yeah.” I snuck a glance at him. “Why? Aren’t we?”

  “I didn’t know how you were going to feel after doing the show. I know you hate Date Night and The Lost Boys so I thought
you would… I don’t know.”

  He knew. And I knew, too.

  “Wait… is that what the sex was about this afternoon?” I hissed, looking around to make sure I wasn’t overheard.

  “No.” He paused, slipping his hands into his pockets “But—”

  “But it was why I told you how I felt. In case the interview changed how we saw each other.”

  “And did it?”

  His gaze was penetrating as he said, “No.” He swallowed hard. “What about you?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “What is?”

  “My feelings.”

  He was quiet.

  We eyed each other, and a chill ran through me.

  Clearing my throat, I shifted my gaze. “You don’t have to walk me to my car.”

  “I’m not going to let you walk to your car alone.”

  “You are such a mystery to me,” I mumbled as he held the door open for me.

  We walked out of the building and as soon as the cold air hit me, I pulled my sweater around me tighter. He placed a hand on my back.

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Hm?” I was completely distracted by his touch.

  “You said I was a mystery.”

  “You’re the kind of guy who is on Date Night, and you’re also the kind of guy who makes sure I get to my car safely. You’re the kind of guy who relentlessly defends The Lost Boys but also gets into a fight with your frat brother to defend me. You just…” I eyed him as I unlocked my car. “I struggle with that.”

  “I have a newsflash for you…” He leaned around me and opened my car door. Taking his finger, he stroked it down my cheek. “You don’t agree with what City says, but you were also on Date Night.”

  I shook my head and tried not to smile. “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight.”

  Before I knew what happened, his lips brushed mine, and then he was already headed back to the building.

  I sat in my car for a minute, smiling. Carlos Richmond was completely unexpected. I was conflicted, but there was something about him. Sighing, I put my key in the ignition and started my car.

  “Shit!” I hit the steering wheel.

  I didn’t want to go back in there, but there was no way I could leave without my notebook.

  Summer is officially over, I thought as I shuffled to the front door of the Empire Building.

  I was still shaking off the chill when I headed to Studio B. I stopped when I heard yelling through the partially closed door.

  “…kept this going for ten years and because some pissed off girls complained, we might get shut down. All thanks to her!” City Boy yelled.

  “Well, now Los is pissed,” Country Boy responded.

  “He’ll get over it. He always does. I cross the line, he smooths it over so we can stay on air. It is what it is. I didn’t say anything worse than I ordinarily say, so I don’t know why he’s tripping over this.”

  “Do you think you helped your case or helped hers by acting like an asshole? If she wrote about us before, you didn’t help,” Country Boy snapped.

  “Look, she held her own. It’s not like I steamrolled her,” City Boy barked in frustration.

  “What was she talking about at the end? When she said you know what you did?” Country Boy asked.

  “I don’t know,” City Boy lied.

  Bullshit.

  “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, B. Carlos will be back any minute and he’s already pissed, so I don’t think you want me to ask again in front of him. What was she talking about? She looked right at you when she said it.”

  “It was the newsletter thing,” City Boy blurted out, lowering his voice.

  I crept closer to hear more.

  “Oh, okay. I can see why she’d be mad about that—”

  “Her sister might’ve been featured in the newsletter this week.”

  So, he knew… he knew it was Alex. I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. He knew and to get back at me, he went after my sister.

  “Wow,” Country Boy whistled. “That’s low, Bryant. Even for you.”

  “She said that we were sexualizing and objectifying women. So, I decided to show what it would look like if we were really sexualizing and objectifying. Come on… stop looking at me like that. In my defense, I thought it was her. I didn’t know it was her sister until I did a little research.”

  “What the fuck, man?”

  “It’s not like the faces were in the newsletter. And the dude wrote the email! Is it my fault that he mentioned the event he was at and used their names? I saw Alex Bishara and figured she was A. Bishara. It was an honest mistake.” City Boy let out a rough laugh.

  I felt sick. I had to get out of there.

  Fuck the notebook.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I spent my entire weekend in my room brooding and guilt-ridden. I couldn’t even bring myself to tell Meghan and I told her everything. I felt so responsible for what happened to Alex and all those other women. I didn’t break out of my angsty, anguished mindset until I received the information about the final photography project on Sunday evening.

  “Something that makes a statement,” I repeated to myself as I sat on the edge of my bed.

  I looked up at the door as it slowly creaked open.

  “You’ve been in a funk since you did the podcast. What’s going on?” Meghan asked from the doorway.

  Groaning, I let my head fall into my hands and shook my head.

  Crossing the room, she took a seat next to me. “I listened to the show yesterday and you were excellent. You gave City Boy the business! You were all like that’s cute that you don’t think you’re an insecure, disrespectful, objectifying predator, so don’t try to change the subject on me.” She giggled. “You were awesome!”

  “Thanks.”

  “So, it’s not about the show. Does it have something to do with Carlos?”

  I shook my head.

  “Have you talked to him since you had sex? I mean, really talked to him?”

  I picked my head up and looked at her. “Talked about it? Not really. Did it again? Yes.”

  “What?!”

  I nodded.

  “You had sex with him again?” Meghan shrieked.

  I nodded.

  “When? How? You didn’t leave at all this weekend. Unless it happened at the studio…” She gasped. “Did you sleep with him at the studio?”

  “I got to the Empire Building early. I was originally going to chill in the park, but I saw him, so I went inside. I don’t know what happened. But he was wearing those damn grey sweatpants.”

  “Oh, he knew wat the hell he was doing. When dudes with big dicks wear grey sweatpants, they know exactly what they’re doing. Showing off his dick print was basically his way of reminding you of what you two had a few days prior.”

  “Well, I remembered. And it resulted in us locking ourselves in the break room bathroom on the other side of the building.”

  “Oh, my god! That sounds hot!” She searched my face. “Were you okay with it happening?”

  “Oh, yes. Absolutely.” A flutter in my belly occurred at the thought of it. “The sex was…magic. Pure magic. I thought the first time was a fluke, but it happened again. It’s just something about when we connect like that…”

  She stared at me. “Look at yourself in the mirror. Look at your face right now.”

  I turned toward my wall mirror and I saw myself—face flushed, eyes bright.

  “You like him so much,” Meghan pointed out. “It is written all over your face.”

  “I can’t like him.”

  “Have you talked to him?”

  “He called yesterday to tell me he would bring my notebook to the thing we have to go to tonight. I said okay and then made an excuse to get off the phone.”

  “Why? You obviously like him.”

  “I can’t like him.”

  “That’s not a denial.”

  “
I can’t like him,” I repeated, closing my eyes. “Especially after finding out what I found out.”

  My eyes started watering and the bright, lovestruck look on my face was replaced with guilt.

  “What happened, Kiki? Talk to me.”

  I sighed. “The newsletter was all my fault. They—well, City Boy—put the newsletter together to spite me.”

  “Yeah, we knew that. They gave a shout out to the journalist who wouldn’t stop talking about them.” She rolled her eyes. “We knew they were talking about you from the beginning.”

  I blinked back tears. “Yeah, well I overhead them talking and City Boy said that he put Alex in the newsletter on purpose. He saw the last name and assumed it was me when he got the email from Alex’s date. But even after her found out it was about my sister and not me, he still put her out there like that. He did that to her in order to get to me. It’s all my fault.”

  “First of all, no, it’s not your fault. And second, how did he find out?”

  I shrugged. “I didn’t hear that part. I just heard him say that it was basically his ‘fuck you’ to me.”

  “Wow…” She put her hand on my back. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’ve been sick thinking about it. I just keep hearing him saying it and every time I replay it, over and over again. I’m the reason this happened to her.”

  “You know this is his fault and not yours, right?”

  “I know.”

  “Kiki…” She pulled me into a hug. “City Boy is an asshole. He wanted to get back at you because he couldn’t dispute the facts in your articles, so he decided to try to come after someone you love. It’s not your fault.”

  I squeezed her tightly. “I know he saw an opportunity and capitalized on it, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling so guilty.”

  Pulling out of the hug, she eyed me. “Are you going to be okay tonight?”

  “Yeah. I don’t have a choice.”

  “You have nothing to feel guilty about. This is on City Boy. He did this. You did nothing wrong.”

  “Thanks.”

  She stood up and walked to the dress I had hanging on the closet door. “Is this what you’re wearing?”

  “Yeah.”

  She smirked. “You’re wearing this for Sunday Expressions or you’re wearing this for Carlos?”