The Blackbirds by Eric Jerome Dickey Read Free Book Online

3500. And the personalized plates say MYBGWL . My Big Wheel.”
    Ericka, Indigo, and Kwanzaa groaned in unison.
    Indigo said, “Two nerds kissing. Sounds as romantic as romance on
Big Bang Theory
.”
    Destiny beamed. “I’m a sapiosexual and
love
the Big Bang way he talks nerdy to me.”
    â€œWhich is why I don’t watch
Big Bang Theory
. I can’t grasp what they’re talking about.”
    Destiny laughed. “He’s not all nerd. He loves hip-hop. He’s a decent dancer. At work he dresses very conservatively, but he gets funky with it at night.”
    â€œLooks?”
    â€œHe’s bald with a goatee.”
    â€œComplexion?”
    â€œBrown.”
    â€œLight brown or dark brown?”
    â€œLight brown skin, the complexion a cop would stop to harass but wouldn’t do a full-blown Rodney King, at least not right away. He’s a horrible speller and his grammar isn’t perfect.”
    â€œPublic school.”
    â€œYeah. You can tell he went to public school and spent too much time doing hood dances, because he loves to party. He’s not much of a cook, but he tries.”
    â€œWhere is he from originally?”
    â€œHe grew up in the area. He was in public school while I was in private school, so we never ran in the same circles and never met each other anywhere that we remember.”
    â€œSounds like a sexy geek who would never win at Scrabble.”
    â€œHe would be a dominoes and spades kind of guy.”
    â€œHow tall is he?”
    â€œAbout five ten.”
    â€œIs he fit like you?”
    â€œMore or less. He’s a normal guy, needs to work on the six-pack, but not fat.”
    â€œA fixer-upper.”
    â€œSince we met he’s been spending more time in the gym.”
    â€œWell, at least he’s trying.”
    â€œHe loves my body, did I mention that?”
    â€œNo, you did not.”
    â€œHe likes to be in the bed with me naked, watching
Star Trek
while he runs his fingers up and down my spine, across the curvature of what he desires to dress up and cosplay with.”
    â€œCorny.”
    â€œWhatever.”
    â€œHow old is he?”
    â€œTwenty-seven.”
    â€œSingle or divorced?”
    â€œSingle, never been married.”
    â€œEver been engaged?”
    â€œNever been engaged.”
    â€œKids?”
    â€œNo kids.”
    â€œLoves his mother?”
    â€œComes from a big family, loves his mom, but is not a momma’s boy.”
    â€œPedigree?”
    â€œHe’s a second-gen college graduate in his family.”
    â€œIs the brother eligible to vote? Has he ever picked up trash on the side of the freeway?”
    â€œNo prison record. No felonies. Not a registered sex offender.”
    All eyes and grins stayed on Destiny and the embarrassed smile plastered on her face.
    It had been a while since she had dated anyone. She had dated a junior at UCLA, a man who just wanted to sleep with Destiny because in his twisted mind she was an accidental porn star. He wanted to hook up with her at his parents’ home in the Palisades, and after they had had drinks and made out, she almost did sleep with him, but she saw his iPhone across the room. It had buzzed with an alert. He had it aimed at the center of the bed, at Destiny, who was in her panties and bra. He was trying to record her, was trying to stream having sex with her live via the Periscope app. He had broadcast their foreplay live. It didn’t end well for him. After Destiny had deleted all he had recorded from his phone, she had taken a knife and chased him through his home, caught him, beat him Hoosegow style, blackened both of his eyes, broken his nose, and was tempted to delete him. Word on the street was that he shall forever walk with a mild limp.
    The guy before that was Eduardo Terrazas Gaxiola, a visual artist who had graduated from the Universidad Autonóma de Baja California. Destiny had been honest with him too, had