A Fire As Date

 A Fire As Date

Episode 1: “Tuesday Morning Flames”

A black woman holding a Molotov cocktail



Tuesday morning, Nick was awake by the sound of breaking glass and a bright orange light. A Molotov cocktail had crashed under his living room window, courtesy of Neisha—a woman he'd met through his buddy Paul just two weeks ago.


“What the hell!” Nick jumped up, his heart pounding as orange flames caught fire the wood that framed his living room window. He grabbed the half-empty water bottle from his nightstand and another from the floor, frantically dousing the fire before it could spread.


Standing at the shattered window, Nick watched Neisha’s red Honda Civic tires screech away from in front of his house. She flashed him her middle finger out the window, not even bothering to look back.


Nick ran to his room and grabbed his phone from his nightstand and dialed her number. Straight to voicemail. He tried again. Voicemail. Third time—same thing.


“Fuck this,” he shouted, scrolling to Josh’s number.


“Yo, what’s up big homie?” Josh’s voice was sounding like he was asleep.


“Say cuz, wake up man that crazy ass bitch you hooked me up with just threw one of those Molotov cocktail through my fuckin’ living room window!”


There was a pause. Josh sounded more awake now, but drowsy. “What!!! She burnt your shit down! Damn, what did you do to her?”


“I don’t know, bro. You hooked me up with that crazy woman!”


“Damn, she did burn your house down?”


“No bruh, just the curtains. You said that two times like you wanted her to burn it down. You got something you want to tell me, big dog?”


Josh’s voice sharpened. “Boy, who are you talking to? You ain’t got nothing I want. I hooked you up with a chick you couldn’t handle boy.”


Nick backpedaled quickly. “I’m just saying, bro. My bad, I was just tripping.”


“It’s all good, bro. I know it’s frustrating when a woman tries to barbecue your ass. But you don’t know why she did it?” Josh responded. 


Nick stared at the burn marks on his wall, glass crunching under his feet. “Man, I swear I don’t know. We went out Saturday night, everything was cool. She seemed into me, you know? We grabbed some food, talked, laughed. I walked her to her car, and she gave me a kiss goodnight. Next thing I know, she’s trying to turn me into a s’more.”


“Think, Nick. What happened after that kiss? You text her? Call her? What?”


Nick ran his hand over his face. “I mean, yeah, I texted her Sunday morning. I said I had a good time, wanted to see her again.”


“And?”


“She never read it. But that’s normal, right? Chicks play games.”


Josh was quiet for a moment. “What exactly did you text her, Nick?”


“Just… you know, the usual. I had fun, thought she was cool, and wanted to take her out again.”


“Word for word, Nick. What did you say?”


Nick pulled up his messages, his stomach starting to twist. “I said, ‘I had a great time last night. You’re even more beautiful than Paul said. Can’t wait to see you again soon.’”


The silence on the other end stretched long.  


“Hello?, Josh? You there?”


“Bro…” Josh’s voice was strained. “Please tell me you didn’t just say what I think you said.”


“What? What’s wrong with that?” Nick said. 


“Nick, you stupid ass… Paul didn’t hook you up with Neisha. I did. And Paul… Paul is her ex-boyfriend. Her crazy, stalker ex-boyfriend that she’s been trying to get away from for months.”


Nick had a blank stare on his face. 


“What?”


“You just made her think that Paul sent you to spy on her, or worse. That’s probably why she tried to barbecue you, homie. She thinks you’re working with her stalker.”


Nick slumped against the wall, glass still glittering around his feet. “Oh shit. Oh shit, Josh. Damn, we got to make this right?” Nick pleaded.  


What do you mean we? Joking buddy “First, you better hope she doesn’t come back and try to finish the job with something bigger than a Molotov cocktail. Second, you need to find a way to explain this before she calls her brothers.”


“What brothers?”


“Yeah, Nick. Her brothers. The ones who don’t ask questions first.”


The line went dead. Nick stared at his phone, then at the burn marks on his wall, then at the broken window where the morning breeze was now flowing through.


This was about to get a whole lot worse.


To be continued……….

Wellington 3 Publishing

Wellington 3 Publishing presents Wellington’s Short Story Collection and Wellington Best Stories Writing is truly a passion for us at Wellington 3 Publishing where we take great pleasure in being able to create meaningful stories and to have them published. Wellington 3 Publishing is looking forward to sharing more of our works with the world in the coming years.

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