Love/Fate (5 page)

When the car was loaded up, Jada looked at Ingrid. She knew that she smelled bad. She knew that she looked and felt even worse. But regardless of her haggard appearance, she had to tell the truth about her feelings for this woman's son. It might be her last chance to get a message to Born. She looked into his mother's eyes and made a final plea. “I am so sorry for messing up,” she said. “I fell. But Born can help me stand up on my feet again. He can help me get right again.”

Ingrid shook her head. “You gotta help
yourself,
Jada. You gotta get right for yourself.”

Jada stared at her, speechless. Then she sighed. “I love Marquis. I never meant to hurt him. He's my everything. I don't have nobody else.” She looked at Ingrid, and saw the pity that she tried to hide from her. “I know I have to leave. And I know he doesn't want me to come back. But just tell him that I love him. Tell him to forgive me.” Jada resisted the urge to cry, and to hug Miss Ingrid, and she climbed into her car instead. Ingrid stood there for a few seconds, feeling the young woman's pain, and hoping that she found the strength to get clean and stay that way. Jada pulled off slowly, looking back at the house she used to think was etched directly from the canvas of her dreams. Ingrid walked back inside, and closed the door on a love affair between two people who almost had it all.

Jada's life had taken a sudden plunge, and she was destroyed. She had no place to turn, and nowhere else to go. So she went to the one place that still welcomed her. Back to the streets.

Jada slept in her car for the next several days, and even drove to her old friend Shante's place, looking for somewhere to stay until she got back on her feet. Shante allowed Jada to stay with her for a little while, after Jada enticed her with three hundred dollars toward that month's rent. Jada slept on Shante's futon, and during the day she went out, looking for a job, a place to stay—something. Three months went by this way, and all the time Jada drove past the house she had shared with Born, hoping to see him. She never did. She called his cell phone, called his house phone. Every number had been changed to an unlisted one. She drove past his drug spots, but was too embarrassed to go upstairs to see if he was there. She didn't know if Chuck had survived his beating, and she sure didn't want to face him if he knew that she was the real thief who had caused him to be fucked up. Jada got high every day, copping from her old dealer, Lucas, in West Brighton, whenever she got the chance.

She saw Mr. Charlie a couple of times during her trips to score some
drugs in his building. But Jada didn't speak to him. She hated him for contributing to her misery. She hated everything that had contributed to the addiction she now realized that she had. Jada would sleep late some mornings, and on other mornings she would lay on the futon and pretend to be asleep, listening to Shante talk shit about Jada to her other friends.

“Yeah, girl. She's gettin' high again. I know! Lil Miss High and Mighty ain't so mighty no more, but she still high.” Shante laughed out loud at her own joke. She listened as the person on the other end of the phone said something. “He left her. He put her out, and that's why she's staying with me. Girl, he kicked her to the curb. She said he had his mama come and help her pack her shit up. Now tell me
that
shit ain't gangsta. No more glitz and glamour for her. Now, it's back to where she started. That's why they say, don't forget where you came from. When he had her in all those jewels and furs, she wasn't coming to check on Shante. You know? It don't matter to me, as long as she keeps putting money in my hand. When his money runs out, I don't know where she think she gon' stay. I feel sorry for her.”

Jada lay there with tears in her eyes. She knew that Shante didn't really feel sorry for her. But Jada sure felt sorry for herself. She got up and went out to escape—to get high once again. Soon her money was low, and Shante was fed up. So Jada packed her belongings, and went back to sleeping in her car.

After close to a week of living in her Acura, Jada finally admitted to herself that she had to sell some of her things. She went to a pawnshop and sold all the jewelry Born had bought for her piece by piece. Her jewelry netted her six thousand in cash, and Jada cried her eyes out in the pawnshop parking lot. All her jewelry—the diamond bracelets, rings, and earrings, her Rolex watch, and all the Tiffany pieces, every single thing had once held such special meaning for her. And now they were gone. She sold her two beloved fur coats by placing an ad in Staten Island's local newspaper, and got five thousand dollars total for two furs that had cost seven thousand and ten thousand dollars respectively. She felt like dying. Her entire relationship with Born had been a waste. She
had nothing to show for it but a car she could hardly afford to gas up, and a broken heart.

She rented a one-bedroom apartment on Lafayette Avenue and used some of the money to set up house. She got some cheap furniture, and she laughed to herself at the irony that this apartment full of low-budget furniture was equal in price to that of the sofa alone in the living room she had shared with Born. This was a big step down, and Jada hated herself for blowing her chance at happiness with a man like him. Whenever she wasn't high, Jada spent her time crying and regretting her actions. She wished more than anything that she could turn back the hands of time. She had no job, but she had a little money. And most of that money was spent on staying high enough not to think about Born.

She missed him terribly. She remembered all the places they'd been together, all the conversations they'd had. Jada missed his voice, his face, his smile. She couldn't believe that he really didn't want her anymore. She thought that Born couldn't possibly get over her, or over their love, that easily. She thought he must be as miserable without her as she was without him. But then she saw him.

She was at the mall in Staten Island, looking for a pair of shoes to match an outfit she had. She was sick of sitting at home, crying and sad about her mistakes. Tonight there was going to be a local “player's ball,” and she was going so that she could let off some steam. She hadn't been out since her days with Born, and she needed to unwind. She went and got her hair done and got her nails done, and she felt better than she had in months. She walked into Aldo and was looking at a pair of
sexy
sandals when she heard his laugh.

Jada looked up, and Born was walking into the store with a light-skinned black woman who looked to be in her early twenties. She was very pretty, and had an enviable bone structure. Her face was flawless, and her outfit was Christian Lacroix. Her hair was cut into a chin-length Chinese bob with bangs, and she was beautiful. Jada's ego told her that the woman looked like a younger and better version of herself. Was Born replacing her with a carbon copy? Jada was green with envy. She stood there, holding the shoe in her shaking hands, and stared at Born. He
didn't see Jada at first. He was too engrossed in whatever joke he and his new friend were laughing at. He had his hand on the small of the woman's back, and Jada couldn't help remembering when he had held her just that way. Born, still laughing, turned his head forward as they entered, and that's when their eyes met.

Jada stared at him, and he at her. She put the shoe down and stepped closer to him to say something. But before she could take another step, Born quickly grabbed the girl by the wrist and led her out of the store.

“Wait a minute, Born,” the woman protested. “I want to get the shoes I saw yesterday.” She pulled her hand away and stood in the store's entranceway.

Born stood outside, and the look on his face was serious. “Not now, Anisa. We'll come back and get them.” He took her by the hand, and they walked off into the mall.

Jada stood there, feeling like a fool. She looked around, embarrassed that Born had run from her that way, and hoping that no one had noticed. She put her head down, and walked out of the store in the opposite direction of Born and his friend.

Anisa,
Jada thought to herself.
Her name is Anisa.
She thought about the pretty girl with the pretty name who had taken her place in Born's life. She wondered if she had also taken her place in his heart.

Jada sat at the bar alone, wallowing in self-pity. She watched Born, who was all the way across the room with Chance and Smitty, laughing at something. In her mind, they might as well have been laughing at her. She sipped her Hennessy and glared at Anisa, standing by Born's side in the position that Jada had only recently vacated. She felt hatred toward the pretty young woman Born paraded around now as if she were Jada's replacement—her understudy. Jada wasn't even sure if Born knew she was at the club that night, since he had so far spent all evening in the company of his childhood pals and that bitch Anisa. They were tucked cozily at a corner table, surrounded by partygoers.

Jada was trying to summon the courage to approach Born. She thought that surely he wouldn't cause a scene in a crowded nightclub,
when all she wanted to do was talk to him. She drained her glass, and was going to slide off the barstool and take the chance of walking over to Born. But before she could set her empty glass back down, a familiar face appeared at her side.

“Perfect timing, I guess,” Jamari said. Without asking her, he summoned the bartender and ordered Jada another of whatever she was drinking. Jada didn't argue, figuring this might be even better than approaching Born. If he spotted her talking to another man, he might feel a twinge of the same jealousy she had felt all night long, watching him with Anisa. Maybe, if she was lucky, Born would even come over there.

Jada still didn't realize that the animosity between Born and Jamari ran deep. She knew him only as a man who she had run into all the time when she was in Park Hill stealing from Born. Jamari sat on the empty stool beside her, and ordered a glass of Hennessy straight. Jada smiled to herself, knowing that this was Born's favorite drink as well. She was clueless about Jamari's childhood friendship with Born, and ignorant to the fact that he had once idolized Born. She didn't know that Jamari had crossed Born, and that the two of them hardly spoke to one another.

She sipped her drink when it arrived, and thanked Jamari for it. He smiled, and said, “You're welcome.” Jada realized that he was really handsome. In all the times she'd seen him when she was stealing from Born, she had never really looked at Jamari. She had enjoyed his flirtatious conversations, but had never taken the time to see how good-looking he was. Jamari was tall and thin, with light brown skin and encompassing eyes. He had a smile that never seemed to quite reach his
eyes.
Jada noticed that his lips would spread into a smile. His perfect teeth would be visible. But somehow, the smile never reflected in his
eyes.
They still seemed sad, maybe even blank and cold. Jada got lost in them as Jamari spoke.

“Now, why are you all alone over here, while that muthafucka's all the way over there?” He shook his head. “Why would a nigga stand over there all night with some skinny, average-looking broad like her, when your fine ass is over here tossing back glasses of yak?”

Jada smiled, happy that Jamari had cracked on the bitch monopolizing Born's attention. She laughed, and shook her head. This was her
fourth drink, and she was feeling it. She spoke a little slower than usual, as she said, “Me and Born broke up. I guess he moved on.”

Jamari already knew that their relationship was over. Born had made sure he was seen all over Shaolin with all kinds of women, but most often with the pretty young thang he was currently dancing with. Jamari knew that Born was only trying to save face because his ex-wifey was a crackhead. By parading the new dime pieces in his life around town, he was making it known that he was still the man. Anisa and Born danced to Aaliyah's “If Your Girl Only Knew,” while they sipped on Moét. There were four bottles on the table with Born and his crew, so Jada assumed they must be balling, as usual. She was so envious, so beside herself with jealousy. Jamari noticed the green-eyed monster taking residence within her. “He's a fool,” Jamari said, nodding in Born's direction. “Some dudes don't miss a good thing till it's gone.”

Jada shrugged her shoulders, and took another swig. “I think you're right. But it don't really look like he's missing me too much right about now.” Jada looked forlorn. “But that's okay, because I came to have a good time by myself.”

Jamari listened to what she said, but could tell by the look on her face that she felt very differently. She sounded very unconvincing. He watched her gaze continuously fall on Born and his new girlfriend, while he made small talk with her. He could tell that she was sick with regret. She caught Jamari staring at her, and she turned and met his gaze.

“I think I'm gonna go,” she said. She finished her drink, and set her glass back down. “Thanks for the drink.” She smiled at Jamari, and patted him softly on his bicep as she stood from the stool.

“Don't leave yet. Don't let that nigga stop you from having a good time.”

Jada smiled. “It's not that—”

“Then prove it.” Jamari stood up, towering over her. “Dance with me.”

There was a reggae mix playing, and couples littered the dance floor. Jamari led Jada to the center of the floor, and started dancing with her. He put his hands around her waist, and pulled her close. She prayed that Born was watching her, and that he came over and interrupted. She was
so desperately longing for this to happen that she grinded on Jamari, turning her back to him so that her ass rubbed up against his body. She wanted him to enjoy the dance, so that Born would notice her.

Born did notice her. Anisa went to the bathroom, and Smitty took the opportunity to point Born in Jada's direction on the dance floor. Born stood there, watching the love of his life dance with the man he despised. He wondered if Jada knew who the nigga was, if she knew their history. What was on her mind? He was tempted to go over there and say something, but he knew that if Anisa came back and saw him fighting over Jada, she would have been mad. It was bad enough that Born had already called Anisa by Jada's name on two occasions. He didn't need to further piss her off by arguing over Jada in the middle of a party in New York's smallest borough.