The New World: The Awakening. Leahann Cavanaugh

you! Thank you! Thank you!” Then from a far I heard a man with an unfamiliar yet familiar voice say, “My queen, my queen, it is time.”

      Then I woke up.

      “It’s eight o’clock in the a.m., and the question of the day is, if you had to sleep with your boss to keep your job, would you do it?” The alarm sounded off to my favorite radio station, 107.3. I woke up already late for work, mad as fuck at myself for letting myself get lost in the same damn dream I’ve been having since I was twenty-one. “From the beginning to the end, same thing happens every time. Nothing changes. Fuck,” I mumbled and screamed to myself while I tried to find all the requirements for my dead-end job at Kay Jewelers. It’s not like I needed it. I really didn’t have to work if I didn’t want to, but with the people I worked with, it was always entertaining.

      “Name tag, belt, purse, keys, coat,” I said to myself, making sure I didn’t forget anything and give that heffa a reason to send me home. Ring ring! It was the first time my cell rang in the last three days.

      “What’s up, boo? What’s it looking like?” I answered, speaking to Denise on the other end, my coworker, partner in crime, truly my best friend.

      “Girl, the Grinch is catchin’ a hissy fit. He said if you not here in twenty, it’s chopped,” Denise stated word for word of what our manager, Josh, said, knowing that he was really taking his anger for her out on me.

      Denise was the type of girl who whooped yo ass first then ask questions later. You know, fuck yo world up then want to sit down and talk to you about the shit all after the fact. Denise was five feet five, tanned-looking skin, always dressed for success; but if you talked to her for over five minutes, the hood started to come out. She wore her hair medium length and always kept it naturally light brown that she always pulled up. No matter what she wore, she always had the latest and greatest kicks.

      She didn’t put up with nothing from nobody, not even from our manager. He was actually scared of her but didn’t want to admit it. She had been late so many times he could fire the whole staff just off her tardiness. The funny part about the whole situation was, she was a little white chick no bigger than a buck thirty. But don’t let her looks fool you.

      Thank God I lived five minutes away from the mall. I got there in plenty of time to stop at Anne’s pretzel and pick up some goodies for my family. I dashed through the mall, barely making it in time. “Made it,” I said, out of breath as I reached the main counter in the back of the store.

      “You always got good timing. The bitch just took a pee break. His fugly ass bet not piss on the toilet seat this time. His ass is too old for that shit,” Denise said, disgusted at the thought. She always had me laughing as soon as I stepped on the scene.

      “Where’s Miles?” I asked, kind of confused because usually he was the one who was first to arrive every morning.

      “You already know,” Denise said under her breath as if what I was supposed to know was a secret that the imaginary customers weren’t supposed to hear.

      There goes Miles, always trying to get the newest eye candy. He don’t even care if the fellas swing that way, I thought to myself. If he like what he sees, he gone try his hardest to get what he wants.

      Denise and I started to walk slowly toward the men’s clothing store that was adjacent to ours, and there he was, spitting game to the newest employee of Abercrombie and Fitch. I must say, Miles wasn’t your typical gay man. For one, he was not. If you asked him, he was trisexual. Meaning he’d try a little bit of everything. His looks would make a straight bitch leave her man, a gay bitch turn straight, and a straight man, well, let’s just say do something strange for a little piece of change. No lie. I’ve seen it!

      Miles had a smile that could bring the life back to a room full of corpses. Some might call him skinny because of his height, but they never saw him ass naked. Home boy was built. Miles stood about six feet one, with smooth chocolate skin. He used his baby face to his advantage with his beautiful dark-brown eyes and his long girly eyelashes.

      “I think that’s how he do it,” Denise whispered to me as we scoped out his pimpin’ skills from behind the cell phone case cart.

      “How he do what?” I asked, intrigued by the tone of her voice. Denise always had a plan, an explanation, a breakdown of how people work and operate.

      “You see, he approach them like he straight and then gives them a signal or something that passes as a compliment—”

      “You stupid,” I said, cutting her off.

      “Hear me out. Then he starts talking about sports, he invites the prey over to watch sports or play a game that involves sports,” Denise explained, not taking her eyes off either guy.

      “Okay, Nancy Drew, what happens next?” I said, skeptical.

      “Shit, I don’t know! I don’t be there when he be crushin’ they cocoa beans,” Denise said.

      All I could say was wow. I was speechless. Miles turned around and headed back to the store, fiddling with his phone. We jumped out behind him. “So…what happened?” I asked, being nosy.

      “Did you get them digits?” Denise shouted as she slapped Miles on the ass.

      “Damn, girl, let a nigga breathe,” Miles happily said, “and do you have to be so loud? He don’t know I’m tri.”

      “Told you,” Denise assured me.

      “What you mean he don’t know?” I questioned.

      “How did you get the digits then?”

      “I told him I had the new madden, boys and their toys,” he proclaimed as he admired the new addition to his many contacts.

      “Told you again,” Denise said, rubbing her accuracy in my face.

      “Oh, so y’all just gone disappear and y’all know the store is open. Jewelry cases unlocked, y’all just want us to get robbed, huh?” Josh barked at all three of us.

      This dude was the corniest nigga alive: Worked in a jewelry store yet every piece he rocked was fake. Little black dude, I called him Gary. I really don’t have to describe him now, do I? You should really listen to this dude have a conversation about females or about anything. One time talking to Miles, Josh butted in and said, “I be having mad bitches at my crib. Tities all in my face. I had this midget bitch with the softest ass in the world. Made me feel like I was a pedophile until I start smacking that shit, then I felt like her daddy.”

      “What? We wasn’t even talking to you,” Miles said, irritated at Josh for saying that irrelevant as shit. Josh always tried to stay face, knowing damn well his ass was still a virgin and he grew up in Perrysburg.

      “Man, shut the fuck up and get out my way,” Denise barked back.

      “I really wasn’t talking to you,” Josh cowardly replied, “but since I have your attention, can I please speak to you in the back about your tardiness?” Then he thought about it and said instead he wanted to stay out there in front of witnesses.

      “Ain’t shit to talk about,” Denise said as she took steps closer to Josh.

      “That’s exactly what I was gone say. Oh look, customers.” Josh hurried off to the nearest person approaching the store.

      “That’s fucked up you got homeboy scared like that,” I said, feeling bad for him.

      “Shit, it ain’t my fault he a pussy. He wanna be mad at somebody, tell him be mad at the pussy he came out of,” Denise expressed.

      “Facts,” Miles chimed in.

      That’s basically how my days went: sell overpriced jewelry to people while we cracked jokes on Gary Fakeman. Same shit, until ten days before my birthday.

      Chapter 2

      October 10, 2020

      “I can’t wait till