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My chest felt like it was caving in. I had to get off this phone. I looked at my watch—I didn’t even have time to
drop Josiah’s paper off now. I needed to get to class, and from the way this conversation was going, I couldn’t get there quick enough. “Ma, I don’t mean to be rude, but I have to get to class.”

“No problem. I love you, Seven, and I hope you understand where I was coming from.”

“It’s cool, Ma, I got you, and I know you love me. I’ll talk to you later.” I couldn’t hang up fast enough.

I’ve allowed you to make me feel …
I feel so dumb …

—M
E
’S
HELL
N
DEGéOCELLO
, “F
OOL OF
M
E”

I
was physically in class, but mentally I was in Josiah’s apartment, trying to convince him why we needed to get our relationship back on track.

This was sick and I knew it, but I couldn’t help it. And I wished there was a way I could rewind time and erase the pivotal moment when things changed between us.

“Okay, everyone,” Dr. Banks said as she stood in front of the class. “Your papers on the history of African American fiction are due today. So please pass them forward.”

Rewind … what did she say? Did she say paper? What paper …? Oh … my … God!
I sorted through my backpack, grabbed my class syllabus and it read,
History of African American fiction due … twenty percent of your grade.

Dead. Completely dead, buried, and in hell.

For the rest of the class I avoided eye contact with Dr. Banks; instead I mentally rehearsed how I could convince her to allow me to hand in my paper late. A million excuses
floated through my mind, ranging from a sick grandmother to a dead cat.

When class ended, I lagged behind the rest of the students and once the professor and I were the only two left in the room I approached her. “Dr. Banks, can I speak to you for a moment?”

“Yes, of course.” She smiled at me.

“I, ummm.” I bit the corner of my bottom lip. “I wasn’t able to hand my paper in today.”

“Really?” She arched her brow. “And why is that?”

‘Cause I’ve been doing my boyfriend’s homework. Not to mention that I’ve been going through so much drama it will cause your head to spin.

“I got mixed up with the date and thought that it was due next week.”

“Umm hmm.”

“So I was hoping you would let me hand it in late.”

Dr. Banks paused. “I don’t accept late work.”

“Dr. Banks, I really intended to be on time. I’ve just had so much going on that I got confused with the date. Please, let me give it to you next week. I really can’t afford to lose twenty percent off of my grade. I have to keep a certain grade point average to maintain my scholarship.”

“Miz McKnight,” Dr. Banks said with a slight southern drawl, “you’ve said the operative phrase, ‘you have to maintain.’ Now I don’t mean to be cruel, but I simply can’t allow you to give me a late paper.”

“No one has to know.”

“You are an excellent student, very talented, and quite gifted, but if I give you an opportunity to hand in a late paper then I have to offer it to everyone.”

Tears filled my eyes.

“I know this may seem harsh, but college is the place where you will learn how important it is to stay focused, stay on track, and hand your papers in on time.”

“Okay,” I said somberly.

“Have a good day.” Dr. Banks grabbed her briefcase and walked toward the door; once she reached the threshold she said, “Miz McKnight.”

God hates me….

As I walked out of the classroom my heart felt like it was beating in my throat, and by the time I got to Josiah’s apartment I felt like I’d been in a war.

I stood outside of his door and rapped softly at first, but after a few minutes and no one answered, I rapped harder, and a few minutes after that I rapped harder and laid on the bell.

The door snatched open and Josiah’s roommate, Devin, stood there wiping his eyes. “Yo, what’s up with you? It’s early as hell.” Devin looked me over. “But you sexy as usual.” He pulled the end of one of my curls.

Ugg, he was so grimy. I smacked his hand. “I am not trying to wash my hair today, so keep your hands off of me, okay? And besides, don’t you have a class you need to be getting to?” I said.

“Nah, only freshmen get stuck with early-morning Monday classes.”

“Whatever,” I said sarcastically, as I pushed my way inside. My eyes scanned the mess of empty pizza boxes, open soda cans, and CD cases all over the living room, and then I looked back at Devin. “Where is Josiah?” I started walking toward Josiah’s room.

“Yo, wait,” Devin said, catching my attention. “Yo, he umm”—he smirked—“a lil busy.”

“First of all I know my name is different from most but it’s not ‘Yo.’ And second of all, I’m not in the mood to be playing with you.”

“Listen,
Seven,
Josiah is in class, a’ight?”

“He doesn’t have classes on Monday, so save it.” I placed my hand on Josiah’s doorknob.

“Trust me, Seven.” He looked me over. “I’m not the one playing with you. If I had you, I wouldn’t have you on rotation; you would always be with me.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I whipped around toward him. “You know what, just go somewhere and kill yourself.”

“Damn.” He chuckled in disbelief. “That was cold.”

“Yeah.” I frowned. “Exactly, I’m cold on you.” My heart thundered as I opened Josiah’s door slowly. I could hear Donell Jones’s “Where I Wanna Be” playing lightly in the background and I could smell perfume in the air as I pushed the door open.

I stood silent and still for a moment, and then my eyes focused on absolutely nothing. There was nothing to see, other than a few LeBron James posters, an unmade bed, a wall of sneakers stacked neatly in their boxes, and a basketball.

“I told you he wasn’t here,” Devin said. “You didn’t want to listen.”

“You told me he was busy.” I sucked my teeth.

“He is busy. I’m sure wherever he is, he’s doing something.”

I rolled my eyes. “You are such a hater. I’m not going to
even let you get under my skin. Just tell him I’ll be back later after my classes are done.”

“I’m not his secretary. I don’t deliver messages.” Devin smirked. “Now, unless you’re joining me in the shower, you need to bounce.”

I flicked my hand in the air. “Whatever.” I walked out the door and slammed it behind me.

For the rest of the day I couldn’t concentrate. I’d been to all of my classes, and if you asked me what happened in them, all I could have come up with would be a blank stare.

I must’ve texted Josiah at least a thousand times and in between my schedule I called him a thousand more.

This was the slowest day on Earth and by the time my classes were over and I returned back to my room it was six in the evening. Shae and Khya were sitting on their beds, watching TV. As soon as I walked in Shae slipped her shoes on and left; shortly after, Khya came and sat Indian style on the foot of my bed. “You know you were wrong,” she said, “and you really hurt Shae’s feelings.”

“Khya, tell me something I didn’t know. It seems that lately I’m always wrong.”

“I bet you didn’t know her period is late and she thinks she may be pregnant.”

“Shae?” I said, completely taken aback. “Are you serious?”

“Let me tell ya somethin’, yat. I play a lot of games, but a late period ain’t one of ‘em.”

“Pregnant? Shae? She can’t be pregnant,” I said in disbelief. “Why didn’t she tell me?”

Khya chuckled. “You’re kidding me right? Seriously, Seven, you have not been yourself. You don’t laugh like
you used to, we don’t chill like we did when school first started. It’s like a tornado came through here and stole our clique. Like, we used to catch da wall tough and now, if you’re not snapping our heads off, it’s all about Josiah.”

“Khya—”

“Let me finish. Before Hurricane Katrina put me and my family out of the projects and then the city of New Orleans put us out of New Orleans—courtesy of them closing the housing projects—and we ended up in Texas, I never felt close to anybody. I always felt like it was a matter of time before something crazy happened and they would be gone from my life; so I kept my guard up. But when I came here and met you two and we clicked the way we did, I let my guard down, and now it’s like we’re Xscape, you’re sleeping with Jermaine Dupre and our lil group is a mess.”

What kinda analogy …
“Wow, Khya, I didn’t know you felt like that.”

“Yeah, we all feel like that,” Khya said. “So, anywho, round, I’m not the one to lecture you. I’m just putting it out there to you that you’re not acting like the Seven I know. You have definitely turned into number eight.”

“You mean negative eight.” Courtney pounded on the wall. “ ‘Cause you have been around here cussin’ er’body out.”

“Why are you in our conversation, Courtney?!” Khya screamed. “I’ma press peeping Tom charges on you.”

“Do it,” he growled.

“Whatever,” Khya said, and turned back to me. “As soon as you and Shae make up we can hit this party.”

“Party!” Courtney screamed. “I’ll be right over for the details.”

Before Khya or I could think to lock the door Courtney was standing in our doorway. “Who’s having a party?” he said. “So I’ll know what to wear.”

“The Deltas are having a party,” Khya said. “And if you go, Courtney, you better be on your best behavior, especially since I’m thinking about pledging.”

“Oh, isn’t that cute.” Courtney batted his lashes. “But you shouldn’t be a Delta, you should pledge G Phi G.”

“G Phi G?” Khya and I said simultaneously.

“Do they have a line on campus?” Khya asked. “I’ve never heard of them. What does it stand for?”

“Ghetto-Phi-Ghetto.” Courtney placed his hands on his hips. “Matter of fact, y’all could start a chapter right here on campus. And your catcall could be, ‘I’m ‘bout to catch da wall, bey-be!’ ”

“Looka here, lil whoady,” Khya spat, “you have crossed the line …!”

And the next thing I knew they were in a full-fledged argument. They were going at it so hard that I almost didn’t hear my phone ringing. I looked at the caller ID and it was Josiah.

I breathed a sigh of relief and walked into the bathroom to get away from Laila Ali and Sugar Ray Leonard. “Hello?”

“Seven,” Josiah said, “I’m sorry I missed your calls. I’ve been chilling with my boys in the Third Ward.”

“What time did you leave? Because I was at your apartment early this morning.”

“Oh my fault, I should’ve called you and told where I was.”

Really?
I blinked.
He’s never said that before.

“Well, baby,” he continued, “I won’t be home until tomorrow.
It’s Gerard’s birthday so we’ll be out for most of the night.”

Gerard?
“Who is Gerard?”

“One of my teammates.”

“Teammate? I don’t remember seeing a Gerard on the roster.”

“Seven, could you please stop with the questions? I was just calling you to tell you I love you and I was thinking about you. All right?”

“All right,” I said reluctantly.

“Did you finish my paper?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Thanks—look, I’ma hit you tomorrow, a’ight? They’re calling me. I’m coming!” he yelled into the background.

“Josiah—hello … hello …” I said as I realized that he’d hung up and when I called him right back he didn’t answer. I held my phone in my hand and wondered what the heck that conversation was really about.

You used to love me …

—F
AITH
E
VANS
, “Y
OU
U
SED TO
L
OVE
M
E”

C
learly, I was trippin’. I was in the middle of a jam-packed party, Souljah Slim’s throwback “Love Me or Love Me Not” rocked the spot and what was I doing?

You got it—thinking about Josiah. But check this: surprisingly I wasn’t really entrenched in thoughts of how to make my relationship better. What had a hold on me was the feeling that Josiah had blatantly sold me some bull.

This is when I needed Shae. I mean Khya was my girl, but Shae was like my sister. Khya had texted Shae to come hang with us; she refused. And when I texted her that I was sorry and we needed to talk, she didn’t respond.

I didn’t know what hurt worse: losing my best friend or losing me.

Khya was seriously dropping a slow bounce mixed with a West Indian whine on some dude who was too busy looking at her booty to genuinely get his dance on. Courtney danced in the corner, by himself and threw his arms in
the air as if he was about to bust into karaoke at any moment.

After the DJ dropped a few more tunes, I turned to Khya and said, “I’m getting ready to go.”

“Go where?” She stopped dancing and wiped sweat from her brow.

“Home.”

Khya rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “You told me we were going to try and hang tight tonight.”

“I know, Khya, and I’m sorry, but I just don’t feel right. Like I need to go and lie down or something. My stomach is sour.”

“Uhmm hmm.” She twisted her lips. “You owe me big time.”

“You can stay if you want to,” I said.

“Nawl, I’d rather go back to the dorm, curl in the corner, and whisper to my boo.”

“What boo?” I said as we walked out the door, leaving Courtney behind.

“Chaz, girl,” she said as we walked up the street toward campus. “I am so feeling him.”

I hesitated. “When you two are hanging out … do you ever see Zaire?”

“Why?” Khya gave me a one-sided smile. “Do you like him, Seven?”

“He’s okay.”

She rolled her eyes to the sky, “Come on, we’re girls. You can tell me.”

“You better not say a word.” I pointed my index finger at her.

“Who I’ma tell?”

“Well”—I hesitated—“Yeah, I have a tiny crush on him. But I told him we could only be friends. Just kickin’ it.”

“Why did you do that?” She frowned. “Girl, you ‘bout crazy as Tiny and T.I.”

“Tiny and T.I.?”

“You know—loco. Don’t make no sense that they have nothing to do but get arrested time and time again. Like I told Jamil, ‘Why you keep getting in trouble for the same thing—?’ ”

“Khya—”

“And you know I said it,” she said, not coming up for air.
“And
I told him while you over there with your palms sweatin’ on bars I’ma be catchin’ the wall. Feel me? That’s why, when Jamil got in trouble last summer and he called me, I was like, ‘Oh, no, you better call Shaka-Locka—’ ”

Nope, not going down that road.
“Khya!” I called for her attention. “This is supposed to be about me, not Shaka-Shake-whatever her name is.”

“Shaka-Locka, and you’re right. This is about you and you being real extra with Zaire.”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“Girl, please, you have said that to er’body. And er’body is tired of hearing it. Seriously, you’re my girl, so I have to tell you the truth, you’re starting to sound like a scratched CD.”

“Oh no, you didn’t!”

“Yeah, I did. But you know I love you, girl.” She pinched my cheek.

“Whatever.” I chuckled.

Once we arrived on campus; my stomach flipped into knots. I thought about going by Josiah’s apartment, just to see if he was really there or not; but a hundred reasons
why checking up on him was a bad idea popped like flashes of light in my mind. Yet, a hundred more reasons why I needed to push those feelings to the side and show up at his door anyway, took precedence over anything else. “Khya, I’ma catch you later,” I said. “I’ma run by Josiah’s for a minute.”

“Girl, I’m not letting you roam all over campus by yourself in the dark.”

“Khya, the building is right here. What are you talking about?”

“Oh, no, we’re in this together.”

I looked at Khya and laughed. “You’re not slick.”

“What?” She blushed.

“You just said you were crushin’ on Chaz and now you’re trying to go with me, hoping to see nasty-behind Devin.”

“Don’t hate, Seven. Mr. Nasty is cute.”

“But he’s a yuk muk.”

“Hmph, Mr. Yuk Muk is being courted by a few scouts, honey. Never close off your options. Never.”

I shook my head as Khya and I headed into the lobby. Once we approached Josiah’s apartment door, I heard people laughing and music playing, from behind.

“Oh, they’re having a party and didn’t invite us?” Khya said. “Oh hell, nawl, if Groupie4life is in here, it’s gon’ be a situation.”

Before I could ring the bell, Khya pounded on the door, and a few seconds later it opened.

“Hey baby, the pizza guy …” Tori’s voice faded as she looked into my face. “ … is here.”

I stood completely still because I felt like if I moved my body would break. Tori stood at Josiah’s door wearing
nothing but Josiah’s basketball jersey and her panties. Tears beat against the back of my eyes like a tin pan left in the rain, but there was no way I could break down and cry. At least not right now … and most-def not right here.

I looked over at Josiah and he stood bare chested in his basketball shorts, holding two glasses of grape Kool-Aid in his hands.

I swallowed and looked at Khya. I knew she could see the hurt in my eyes and maybe that’s why she took the lead and said, “Oule, Seven, come on in here, girl, let’s make sure we get the full view of what exactly is going on here.” She boldly walked inside and I walked in behind her.

Our heels clicked like top models as I did all I could to keep my knees from buckling.

“Seven—” Josiah called my name. He placed the glasses on the table and said, “It’s not what it looks like.”

“Oh really?” I turned to Khya. “Shall we go over the list for ‘he’s standing here guilty and he’s still denying that he’s cheating’?”

“Yeah,” Khya said, “let’s go over the list. Hit it.”

“Okay.” I looked Josiah over. “I believe number one on the jerk-off list is another chick answering the door and he’s standing here practically naked, with two glasses of Kool-Aid in his hands.”

“Side bar,” Khya said. “Seven, fa’real dough, dawg, I’m trippin’ off this fool drinking Kool-Aid. Don’t nobody drink Kool-Aid anymore.” Khya shook her head. “I swear nothing’s worse than a cheap jerk.” She looked at me and said, “We gon’ give him two checks for that.”

“Seven—” Josiah called my name. “Let me hollah at you for a minute.”

I continued, “On to the next item on the list: A trick standing in his apartment with his jersey and her panties on … says to me they were gettin’ it in—”

“Clearly, they were gettin’ it in; and from the looks of things after they ate they were gon’ get it in some more,” Khya insisted. “Know what? I’ma put a check by the item that says, ‘How to know if your man needs his behind bust.’ ”

“You two are going a little too far,” Tori said, pissed. She looked at Josiah. “They need to leave.”

“Make me leave!” I snapped. “I dare you!”

“Chill,” Josiah said to Tori, and she immediately sucked her teeth and said, “I don’t believe this.”

“Believe it.” Khya twisted her neck. “Happens to the best of skeezers every day.”

“I’m not a skeezer!” Tori snapped.

“Oh you’re right, tramp. You’re not. What would you prefer, ho? Prostitute? Strip-er?”

“Josiah!” Tori screamed. “You better—”

“Didn’t I just tell you to chill?” Josiah said. “Seven, let me hollah at you for a minute.” He reached for my arm and I snatched it away. “Please, I need you to understand!” he said.

“I hate you!” ripped from my mouth without me thinking twice. “Now understand that!” I tried to hold my composure, I really, really did, but I couldn’t do it any longer.

“Seven, I’m not going to keep saying this, I need to speak to you. You at least owe me that!”

“I don’t owe you a thing!” I promise you, I wanted to spit in his face.

“Seven—”

“No!”

“Josiah,” Tori snapped, “what are you doing, and why are you explaining yourself to her?”

“Stay out of it!” He cut his eyes at Tori and then looked back to me. “I didn’t mean for it to go down like this.”

“I don’t believe this, Josiah!” Tori screamed. “I’m out of here!”

“You ain’t going nowhere,” Khya said as she looked Tori over. “Who you think you’re fooling and if you do leave you’ll only be back in the morning, so you may as well fall back. This is what happens when you in second place, scallywag!”

“I’ma about to—” Tori attempted to say before Khya cut her off.

“About to what? Don’t tell me, just do it, because when I get ready to steal on you, you gone be on the ground and that’s all to it. No forewarning. Just bam, all up in ya grill! Now what—wassup?” Khya took a boxer’s stance.

“Seven—” Josiah reached for me again.

“Don’t.” Tears snatched my voice from my throat and halted my words. I fought through everything in me that wanted to fold and break down. I looked at Khya and said, “Let’s go.”

“Let’s go?” she said, surprised.

“Let’s … go …”

“Seven,” she said, tight-lipped, “I know you’re upset, but we at least need to pimp smack this chick.” She looked Josiah over and continued, “Hmph, he might be twenty feet tall, but it’s two of us, we can take him. And I’m not even worried about homegirl.” She pointed to Tori. “ ‘Cause she bet’not get in it!”

“Khya,” I said sternly, “they’re not worth it.”

“Seven,” she practically begged, “just slug him one time.
Please. I got a mini pair of nunchucks in my purse and I promise you, when I get through with this fool, his mama gon’ feel his pain.”

“No!” I looked at her and the tears I tried to hold back were making diamonds in my eyes. “Let’s go!”

Khya stared at me, and then she said to Josiah and Tori, “You better hope I don’t see you again, ‘cause I will be packin’!” She took her nunchucks out her purse and swung them around her arms. “Trust! I’m looking for a reason to unleash the season of beatin’.”

We turned toward the door and stormed past the pizza guy, who no one knew had been standing there, and by the look on his face he’d watched this entire episode unfold.

My adrenaline pumped on overload and my head was spent. I did all I could to steady myself as we walked back to our dorm. I knew Khya didn’t know what to say and neither did I.

All I knew is that I felt like I needed an asthma pump, but I didn’t have asthma. I needed to be somewhere quiet where I could lie down and pretend that none of this existed.

Once we were at our building Khya said, “Seven, hold up. Wait, something just came over the newsfeed.” She looked down at her phone and then back to me.

“What?” I said with my throat feeling heavy.

“Ummm, hmmm, you know what? Never mind.”

I hate when people do that.
“What? What is it?”

“Nah, it’s okay.”

Oh God.
“Would you just tell me?”

“Okay.” She looked at her phone, peeped at her watch, and then looked back at me.

“Khya, what … is … it?”

She swallowed. “You know I’m sensitive and I’ma always be there for you. And I know we’re supposed to be going upstairs to handle your heartache, but you know all we gon’ do is go up there, cuss him out to each other, and maybe cut up some of his pictures. You’ll scream about how you should’ve known better … yada-yada-yada. Oh and you may break down and cry and I’ll tell you it’ll be okay … but, at the end of the day none of this would have changed the fact that you caught him standing butt naked in the middle of his living room with homegirl.”

“He was not butt naked.”

“You know what I mean.”

“And what does that have to do with anything?”

“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “I just read over the newsfeed, that the football team is having a midnight cookout and ummm yeah”—she snapped her fingers—“we need to be there.”

“A cookout?”
Did she just say a cookout?
“I’m not up to a cookout, Khya.”

“Yes, you are, Seven.” She placed her arm in mine. “And look at it this way, if nothing else we could go there and you could eat. You know you haven’t eaten in about two days, especially since you’ve been so stressed out over Josiah. So like, you can eat and I can mingle.”

“Khya—”

“Seven, please.” She folded her hands in a prayer position. “And I promise you when we come back I’ll stay up with you and we’ll cry together all night. Deal?”