Authors: Shaquanda Dalton
Tags: #Erotic Fiction, #United States, #African American, #Romance, #Urban, #Genre Fiction
He immediately walks in and turns on some music. It isn’t bad music, and he keeps it at a reasonable level so I have no complaints. I’m pretty used to him blasting music through the wall at his house parties, but since it’s just us, his music selection is a lot more chilled. I walk to his guest room and make a face. The room is mostly used as a party room—aka a fucking room. I rip the sheets from the bed and prepare to change them, when Malcolm peeps in. “You want me to order that pizza now?”
I put a strand of hair behind my ear. “Yeah, sure, that’s fine. Sausage and pepperoni please.”
Malcolm smiles. “I already know.” And walks off.
I start to look into his hallway closet for clean sheets, and my cell phone text message alert goes off. I suck in a breath as I notice it’s from Jaylen.
“Hope u r settling in well. I’ll have all your things put together for u if u want to stop by tomorrow and get them. I can’t drop them off since I have to take Ang to work but Malcolm has a spare key. Anyway, about last night. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. We can just pretend it never happened. I just don’t want it to be weird between us. Have a good night.”
I get a warm feeling in my chest and wish I was in Jaylen’s arms again, but as soon as the thought pops into my mind, I push it back. I can’t believe myself for thinking that. Why can’t I be normal for once? I grab the bedsheets and go back into the room.
After I change the sheets and sweep out the room, the pizza arrives. Malcolm and I eat in silence in the living room even though I can tell he wants to say something.
Malcolm has the TV on, but neither of us is really watching it. I know I’m not giving off the most pleasant mood, but I can’t help how I feel, which is mostly confused and unwanted. It isn’t fair to feel this way, especially with Malcolm letting me stay with him even though he should be having his whole place to himself and not have to worry about his friend living on the streets.
Suddenly, I don’t feel hungry anymore, and I stand up to go back to my room. “Finished already?” Malcolm asks.
I nod. “I’m feeling pretty tired. I think I just need a good night’s sleep.”
Malcolm looks thoughtful, but eventually he nods, and I walk back to the room. I undress slowly while looking around. The room has one window overlooking the parking lot, but there isn’t a TV in here either. That’s fine. I am too tired to pretend to watch it anyway.
I slide under the covers and snuggle up with the pillow. I close my eyes and think of being back home in Aurora in my old room with my wall of teddy bears and other stuffed animals. I think about Grandma Mae coming in my room early each morning to wake me up for school and how I would moan and groan like I had more important things to do with my life. The thought makes me smile, but then it hurts too much thinking about her and knowing she’s not here right now.
I open my eyes for a second and blink a few tears down my cheeks. After the first few, plenty more follow. I hate crying, but I know it’s better to let it out now than in front of anybody else. After what seems like hours, I stop.
The next morning I wake up with a headache. I roll over so that my face breathes into the pillow. It’s an old trick I used to do when I didn’t want to get up early for school. I keep my head shoved into the pillow until I can’t breathe anymore and the need to breathe overshadows the hatred of getting up. After a few seconds, I turn my face sideways to breathe and then get up.
As soon as I sit up, I feel dizzy and fall back down. This happens two more times until I finally decide to roll out of bed. I can hear the shower going and figure Malcolm’s already up. I stand still and let my eyes regain focus, and eventually I slide on my clothes and walk to the kitchen. The fridge is nearly empty except for liquor, beer, bread, and milk. There is also a hint of bologna in the back, but I doubt it’s safe to eat.
I close the fridge door frustrated and look at the clock above the stove. Ten thirty. I look above the fridge until I see the blue box I was looking for. I pull down the Frosted Flakes and smile. Malcolm and I share the same taste when it comes to most of the foods we eat.
Malcolm comes into the kitchen dressed just as I finish my second bowl. He smiles and says, “Yeah, my bad. I need to buy some real food, I know. Just been eating fast food lately.”
“It’s okay. The cereal was still good.”
He nods, then looks at the clothes I’m wearing from yesterday. “We can leave right now if you want. I know you want to take a shower and get dressed when you get there.”
“So you’re just dropping me off?”
“Yeah, I have to be at work at eleven thirty. And I think Jay wants me putting in a few hours at the bar after I’m done at the garage.”
“Okay.” I get up and rinse my bowl in the sink. I rush to the bathroom to straighten myself up a bit and grab my shoes from the room. Eventually, we make it out the door after ten minutes, and I’m glad to sit down again. My headache calmed down slightly after I ate, but it’s slowly building back up again. I close my eyes most of the ride to Jaylen’s house.
Malcolm keeps the conversation light by just telling me that he’s going to pick me up from Jaylen’s house after work. He also tells me that Jaylen won’t be off till six tonight, but then has to go pick up Angela. So I should have plenty of time to shower, take a nap, and leave before the both of them get home.
“I’m going to get you once I finish up at the garage. I’ll pick you up around four,” he explains for what seems like the hundredth time.
“Okay.” I hope Jaylen has some aspirin.
We pull up to Jaylen’s apartment, and I say good-bye to Malcolm, when I hear a jingle. “You’re gonna need these,” Malcolm says, jingling Jaylen’s spare key.
Smiling, I take the key, thank him, and head toward the building. Malcolm doesn’t pull away until I’m completely inside, and once I am he speeds off toward the freeway. When I reach his apartment door on the second floor, I stick the key in. I close the front door behind me and turn on the lights. The living room is messier than I left it last night, and I consider cleaning it before I remember that touching one thing will give Angela the incentive she needs to start sniffing around.
I walk straight to the guest room I stayed in. The room is exactly how I left it last night except my clothes are nicely stacked on top of the bed ready to be packed up, thanks to Jaylen. I shove all my old clothes in my duffle bag, including the ones I’m wearing, and leave out a clean pair of blue jeans shorts, underwear, and a white tank top. I leave those clothes on the bed and walk across the hallway to the shower. I’m already naked at this point, so I just turn the water on and get in. I let the shower be an antidote for my headache, and I instantly start to feel better. Maybe it’s the steam or the massaging beats of water pounding my aching body, but whatever it is it’s lifting my spirits.
I stay in the shower another forty-five minutes before dragging myself out. I wrap myself in a towel preparing to dry off in my room, when the doorbell rings. My towel falls, and I have to bend over to pick it up. That’s when I notice how badly my hands are shaking. Who the hell is at the door? I think about my cell phone in the bedroom and wonder if someone called to warn me they were coming home early or if Malcolm needed something. I run out of the bathroom and back into my room and shut the door. The doorbell rings again. I figure I can at least peek through the peephole. It can’t be Jaylen or Angela because they would have a key. I’m thinking it could be Malcolm, because I couldn’t hear my phone from the shower if he had called. I take a deep breath and get dressed fast.
I’m about to open the door, when the visitor starts banging like it’s raining hellfire. I want to swing the door open and yell at the person to stop, but I don’t know who it is. I stretch up on my toes and look through the peephole. My heart stops. I should have known it was Chris.
PART TWO
Jaylen
I’m sitting at my desk in the back office of my bar and have just finished my financial reports for the week, when my phone rings.
“Yo, what’s up?” I ask Malcolm.
He sounds out of breath. “Hey, man. I’m tied up with this car that’s got this leaking problem I’m trying to fix. I might not be done in time. You might need to scoop Jess up early and drop her off at my place for me before you go get Angela from work.”
“Damn for real? Shit, all right,” I say. “Good looking, bro, and yeah, I’ll go get her. I’m mostly done now anyway.”
“All right.” The line clicks.
Ten minutes later I pull up to my apartment building. Jessica isn’t answering her phone, but I’m just glad I still have enough time to drop her off and pick up Angela. I’m about to open the door to my apartment building, when Jessica comes out hauling her duffle bag.
“Good, you’re already ready,” I say, smiling. We haven’t really talked much since we had sex, but at least I was taking her back to Malcolm’s so we’ll have time alone to talk if she wants to.
Jessica’s eyes widen when she sees me, which doesn’t make sense if she already has her stuff packed. “Hey,” she mumbles, looking around. “What are you doing back so early? Is Angela with you?” she asks.
“No,” I say. My smile fades as she continues to avoid eye contact. “Didn’t you hear from Malcolm?”
Jessica shakes her head and looks over my shoulder toward the street. I turn around to try to see what she’s seeing, but I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. “What?” I ask her.
“Nothing. Um . . . Jay, I need to talk to you,” Jessica says. When I don’t say anything, she continues. “I thought about it and um . . .” She pauses, then takes a deep breath. “I’ve decided to try to work things out with Chris.”
Jessica closes her eyes, and I’m left staring at her clinging face. I try to push down my anger.
Her eyes open again, but she avoids my glare. “Why?” I say as calmly as humanly possible. My hands fist up.
Jessica’s mouth is small and round like her face. She pushes a long strand of hair behind her ear before she says, “Chris and I talked for a very long time, and he made some good points. And, well . . . I guess I just agreed to—”
“Do you have any idea how stupid you’re being?” I shout at her. “That nigga put his hands on you, and you’re giving him a second chance?”
Jessica shakes her head and stares at the street. “It’s not like that, Jay. See, you don’t understand.”
“What the fuck don’t I understand, Jess?” I walk around so that I’m in her line of vision again. “I understand that he sweet-talked you, and now you want to go running back to his house?”
She doesn’t say anything. “When did you talk to him anyway?” I ask, beaming down at her. I can tell she’s uncomfortable, but I don’t stop. She’s hiding something.
“Chris came over right after Malcolm dropped me off,” she says finally. “He figured I’d be here . . . either here or at Malcolm’s, but he came here first.”
“Shit.”
“He’s changed, Jay. I mean he’s trying to. He’s working at it. He was at anger management all this time, and even showed me his certificate that he finished. He really wants to—”
“Jess, anybody can print something off a damn printer. What are you talking about? God, use your head!” I scream.
Jessica pouts her lips like a four-year-old. “I am using my head, but I’m also using my heart. Listen, Jay. I don’t expect you to understand. I just want to live my life the best way I know how.”
“With him? That’s the best way you know how? Really? You’re dumb as hell,” I say.
“I’m not dumb.” Her voice is low and firm. “I just know what I want.”
When I don’t say anything, she continues. “You have everything, you know that?” Jessica pauses to take a deep breath. “You have a place of your own, friends, family, your own business with the bar, money, and Angela. What do I have? I don’t have anything that’s really mine.”
“Jessica,” I start, but she interrupts me with teary eyes.
“No, Jay. I mean, you don’t realize how much I . . . look at you and Angela. Look what you guys have, and think about what I have. I want a relationship like yours. One that will last long, and one that will give me a companion that really understands me for me. You guys don’t worry about anything, and you guys are so in love that I can’t believe we even . . ” Her voice trails off. “I’m still leaving,” Jessica concludes.
I take a deep breath. “How are you going to get to his house?”
Jessica’s hesitation says it all, and I realize Chris is somewhere in the area. I look over my shoulder down the street at the parked cars. I take a closer look and zoom in on the black Honda five cars down. “He came here,” I say more to myself than to Jessica.
I take one step toward the car, when Jessica grabs my arm. “Jay, don’t. Just leave us alone,” she says, tightening her grip.
“Leave you alone? Jess, that nigga put his hands on you. What makes you think he’s not going to do it again? What? ’Cause he went to anger management? He’s probably lying to you. That certificate don’t prove shit.”
I can see the tears in her eyes, but she won’t let herself cry. She turns her eyes away from me and looks toward Chris’s car. “I need to live my own life, Jay. Not the life you think I should live.” She pauses before adding, “You’re not my brother or my father.”
“I never said I was,” I say in a low voice. “Just don’t do this, Jess.”
“I’m sorry, but I have to live my life. This is what I want. I know deep down I won’t be happy unless I’m with him.”
“That’s not true. You really think I’m going to let you go with him?” I ask.
“I’ll call the cops if you try to stop me.” She says those words so fast and smooth it sounds rehearsed.
I shake my head. “I thought we were better than that, Jess.”
“Just let me go.”