by Desirée
“But you did what?” Trell cut in, smiling hard.
“I . . .” He rolled his eyes with a sigh. “I agreed to one movie date because I wanted to see if he was openly gay like me. Turns out, the country bumpkin showed me a good time, and he wasn’t shy about affection in public. So, after that, I told him I don’t sleep with niggas on the first date,” Tyree stated proudly.
Trell sat up, looking at him. “But you did what, nigga?”
“I . . .” He sighed with another roll of his eyes. “Slept with him.”
“Ahhh!” I laughed.
“Aye, real talk, though. It was just supposed to be casual shit,” Trell said as the food was brought to our table. “Hit it and move on. If I was nearby, I would see him and chill, but that was it. But this nigga caught me way off guard when we was out one night and some dude was trying to fuck with him. I was going to handle it, but nigga turned into the Hulk on my ass. Son, you doing all that talking, B,” he mocked as Tyree smiled. “You talking, son. Yo, I’m from New York, and this how we do shit up there, B. Then! He fought the nigga, throwing jab for jab, boxing like a fucking professional and shit. After that night? I told myself, if I don’t lock this nigga down? I won’t find another one like him,” he said as Olivia and I cooed.
“You just like me because of my accent, nigga.” Tyree smirked.
“Y’all are so cute,” I cheesed, watching Trell playfully tug at Tyree’s ear lobe.
“Did you enjoy yourself tonight? See what we be getting into on a regular? Olivia already know how we get down,” Trell said as we looked at her. She was so zoned out it was unbelievable. Looking at us, she smiled sweetly, biting her lip.
“Shit, she look like Elijah,” Tyree muttered, and I laughed.
“Nigga, shut up. I look like Olivia,” she clapped back, taking a sip of her tea. “I had fun, met some new people.”
“Yeah, I saw you upstairs fucking with that girl,” Tyree said.
My mouth dropped, looking at my best friend for years. I had no idea she even got down like that. “You what?” I shrieked, shoving her playfully as she giggled.
“I was horny,” she pouted.
Trell laughed. “Man, Taylor, you of all people should know how Olivia is.”
“Uh, the bitch just lost her virginity not too long ago,” I let out, and they all looked at me, bursting out into laughter at the same time.
What the fuck am I missing?
“Bruh, you have no idea. Do Taylor even know about Montana?” Ontrell asked.
I stared at Olivia, who was so far gone I didn’t think she would make it past the meal. Instead, she sniffed, hand running up her coke-filled nose before throwing her head back with a groan.
“Ughh! All right, I’ll come clean, but you better not say shit, Taylor,” Olivia said, looking at me with those red, glossy eyes. I nodded, ready to hear this fuckery. “I lied,” she stated simply, with a cute shrug like the spoiled girl she was known to be. “I just said it because you were still one.”
“Well, clearly you lied,” I retorted as Tyree laughed.
“You think partying with us is some mad shit?” Tyree said, hand on his chest to signify Trell and him. “Party with Olivia and her crew. One night in Atlanta, you will never be the same.”
“Damn right,” she stated as she and Trell pounded fists.
“Well, who is Montana?” I questioned.
She slid her hazel eyes at me with a low, sneaky smile. Pulling at her nails, she kept a drunken gaze on me. “A nigguh,” she popped softly with Ontrell laughing.
The more I questioned shit, the more other things stopped making sense, like flashing back to see her at the party doing a line of coke on a man’s thigh. So, that was her. I wasn’t even going to begin to question how and what happened with her boyfriend thinking she was a virgin too. Olivia, I was starting to realize, was not this innocent girl she portrayed herself to be. I was still high, though, and at this point, I just wanted to say fuck it and go home.
“Well! I had fun,” I said, shrugging, switching the attention back to me. “I did some shit I wouldn’t normally do, tried some things, and I don’t regret it. I ended up fucking a nigga at that house party, the second one we went to.”
“Who?” Tyree shrieked. “Bitch, no you didn’t!”
“I have a hole in my leggings as we speak, nigga,” I stated.
His mouth dropped, and he looked at Trell, who was reaching over to grab some food from Olivia’s plate. The table was filled with plates, with us grabbing from different places, taking what we wanted.
“Baby, did you hear this girl say she got a hole in her leggings?” Tyree said to Trell, trying not to laugh.
“That’s some ho shit, shawty,” Trell said as they laughed, making me roll my eyes.
“So, who was the guy?” Tyree asked. “Because there was not a straight nigga in that house tonight, boo.”
“He said he was straight!”
“Nah, I tell females that if I wanna fuck some, but I’m not straight, sooo,” Trell said, looking at me with a slow smile. “You don’t even know what he looked like?”
“I mean, he said he was just there to sell to the gays. He said he makes most his money off of y’all.”
They both looked at each other as they burst out laughing.
Oh, shit. Please don’t tell me I had sex with a gay man.
“Do y’all know him?”
“Honey, you talking about Aaron, selling weed and pills?” Tyree questioned. “He’s gay, boo.”
“How you know?” I shrieked, almost spitting my food out.
Trell handed Tyree his phone. He quickly started moving the screen, scrolling through before showing me a Facebook status.
I CNT BELIEVE I CONVINCED A GURL TO HAVE SEX WITH MY GAY ASS. FIRST TIME HAVING SEX WIT A GIRL AT 32. BEST BELIEVE IT WASN’T ALL WHAT STRAIGHT MEN HYPE IT UP TO BE.
53 likes. 22 Comments.
My mouth dropped as they started laughing, with Olivia shaking her head, still feeling her high even after the fight.
“Go get tested, boo,” Tyree suggested, sipping his hot tea. “He’s known to fuck with basic niggas in the A.”
I sat back in the chair, stunned. This is the absolute last time I party with gay niggas in Atlanta.
Jordyn
“Let’s go! You need to hurry up!” a mother yelled out as I watched her gather up her kids, trying to rush to their designated area in the airport.
My flight wasn’t for another thirty minutes, but I was just so anxious to get home and see my family again. I missed the big dinners, the stories, the laughter. I was an only child, but I had too many cousins and uncles to count on both sides. My yaya was in good spirits, so I was definitely looking forward to spending some time with her. It was Wednesday night, and the airport was packed with travelers trying to rush everywhere, while I stood there with my duffle bag, waiting. I was wearing simple jeans, boots, and a waist-length coat. I had glasses on, with my hair hanging freely.
It has been a while since I contributed to this story, but I had a lot going on. Still do.
Elijah pretty much lost his mind. I mean, he went off the deep end this time. Two weeks ago, I broke it off with him. No more sex, no more calling, none of that could happen between us, and he went off. Sitting in my living room, I remember telling him calmly I was sorry, but he wasn’t hearing it.
“So, where the fuck is all this coming from?” he asked, eyes hard on me as he pulled his dreads back, like he was ready to jump up and fight. “Real shit, Jordyn. Keep it one hundred. Who you been fucking with that’s suddenly telling you to stop fucking with me? I’ve been with yo’ ass since day one!”
“Elijah, nobody’s telling me anything!” I argued, pushing my glasses up. I was trying to keep from saying I had a boyfriend, because he made it clear he didn’t want to know anything about me and another man—or woman, at this point. He’d rather not know.
“So, why you trying to stop this shit?”
“It’s time! I ca
n’t keep doing this with you, Elijah! We had our fun, but we need to stop and let it go before one of us gets hurt!”
His eyes grew wide as he stood up. “You already said you loved me, Jordyn. Either you lied, or you don’t love a nigga no more, and that’s why you really trying to—”
“Do not throw that back in my face!” I snapped angrily, hating that I fell in love with someone who didn’t feel the same way, and now he thought he could throw it back in my face against me. Fuck no.
“So, you don’t love me?” He laughed, shaking his head. “You don’t love a nigga no more, or you giving up on me because I don’t love you back? Man, fuck outta here. I ain’t going no-fucking-where,” he said, sitting back down with another laugh. “The pussy is too good, shawty. I ain’t going nowhere, and neither are you, because as soon as you wake up the next fucking morning, you gon’ hit me up, talking about you want this dick, you want me to come over. Take you out to eat, help you with yo’ fucking bills to this raggedy-ass place you call a house, and come scoop you up from wherever the fuck you be at, and”—he laughed—“all that shit comes with a price! You trying to stop all of that, shawty? Really? Everything you got in here is because of me! Reason people know you, fuck with you now is because of me!” he stated, pointing at himself.
I slowly cocked my head back, taking a few steps back as I looked at the man I once fell in love with. He was sitting there with his arms stretched out on the couch, legs wide, with his thick Gucci boots, flashy chains, and fancy Rolex, locs crinkled to perfection. Those infamous tattoos on his face that I grew to love . . . mmm. Elijah Jodie Carter, the only man I let eat me out, and I pretended to like that shit for the sake of his ego that I was just now realizing was bigger than I thought. Pushing my glasses up, I smiled again.
“Yeah, you go ahead and rethink that shit, Jordyn, if you want us to stop, because as soon as that shit comes to a stop, shawty, everything I own is going back. Yo’ li’l phone that I gave you?”
“Yeah?” I baited. “You taking that with you too?”
“When it’s over, it’s over, shawty. I’m not rescuing you from no bitch that fucked yo’ ass up over dumb shit. I’m not entertaining yo’ wack-ass conversations about politics and bullshit. I’m done! You hear me?” he stated.
I barely even blinked. Watch how I end all of this with one sentence.
“I have a boyfriend, Elijah,” I said simply.
He froze, mouth ajar, low eyes open wide as he stared hard at me, searching my face to see if I was lying. “You what?” he let out in a low voice.
“I have a boyfriend,” I said, shrugging. “I’ve been talking to him for a while. He’s been taking me places. We talk, hang out. I’ve been to football and basketball games. He doesn’t smoke or party as much, and would you believe it? We never even had sex,” I said sarcastically.
I thought I would feel better about telling him, since he decided to go off on me like that, but the look on his face made me wish I could start this all over again. I wished I’d never said a word about Desmond.
“What’s his name? I know him?” he asked, standing up, fists clenched.
“I’m not telling you—”
“Where he stay at? Fuck does he do, so I can go find him?” he snapped.
I remained quiet, and I guess that was when shit really broke loose. Next thing I knew, we were damn near fighting each other, with me trying to keep him away from my room. He wanted to get my phone that was sitting on the bed, while I just wanted him out of the house altogether. I couldn’t handle him anymore. I was tired of it. It was always something when I was with him, and for once, I just wanted to be with someone normal.
“Elijah, get out of my house!” I screamed, pushing him back one last time.
“So, you don’t love me no more?” he pressed, having the nerve, the audacity, to look hurt with his lying ass. “You don’t—”
“I don’t love you!” I snapped. “Get out!”
Three days later, I got a call from my boyfriend in the middle of the night, sounding scared out of his mind. I quickly sat up in the bed, rubbing my eyes as I glanced at the time on my phone: 2:11 a.m.
“Desmond, what’s wrong?” I yawned, trying to hide my irritation.
“Aye, look, I don’t know what’s going on, but I . . . we can’t be together any—”
“What?”
“Look, I just got a lot going on right now, and it’s just not a good time for me to be in anything seriously,” he said. “Don’t call me again.”
With that, he hung up, and my mind immediately went to Elijah. So, I called him, but he wouldn’t answer. I called again and again, knowing he had something to do with it. He wouldn’t answer, but he did send me a text message.
NXT NIGGA U PICK 2 B YO BF BETTER NOT BE NO WACK ASS NIGGA WORKING AT WALMART LIKE HOMIE DID. YO PHNE GETTING CUT OFF TOMORROW MORNING SHAWTY. IM OUT.
I slammed the iPhone so hard against the wall it broke, shattering the screen into pieces. I was done. Elijah was so pathetic to stoop that low, scaring someone into breaking up with me. I just . . . Shaking my head, I lay back down, using the pillow to mute my screams. Fucking over him!
A day later, I came home from a late night of rehearsal, and Rita was flipping out, rushing me to get inside the house. I was so tired, fingers were hurting from playing my violin so hard that I just wanted to soak my hands in some hot water. Yet, the moment I walked in, I saw we had absolutely no furniture.
“Bitch, I swear I will call the cops on Elijah’s trifling ass! Did he do this, or did we truly get robbed?” Rita screamed as I rushed to my room, seeing just about more than half of my stuff was gone or destroyed. I couldn’t even call—
“Jordyn !” Rita yelled, coming into my room. “Girl, he took our pots and pans! Oh, Lord God, noo!”
I sat on my bed, closing my eyes, trying to keep the tears from coming down. He wasn’t going to break or scare me into getting back with him.
Rita came in the doorway, still ranting on and on, while I sat in silence.
“You need to talk to him, make it up to his crazy ass or something. The nigga didn’t touch my shit. Still, you need to talk to him!”
“How can I talk to someone, be with someone who doesn’t love me like—”
“Are you blind?” she snapped, arms thrown in the air. “That nigga is obsessed with you! Can’t you tell by how he stole all yo’ shit, made yo’ boyfriend break up with you? Elijah has been head over heels in love with you since you put it down on him. I told you, yo’ sex game is too strong for these basic niggas down here. Make ’em go crazy. Remember what happened with the last guy?”
“He said he doesn’t—”
“A man’s words don’t mean nothing, girl. Like, really.” She laughed sarcastically while walking out, still flipping out over the stolen goods.
I was not playing into Elijah’s I-want-attention bullshit right now. I refused.
Now that all of that had happened, here I was, two weeks later, standing at the airport, the day before Thanksgiving, waiting on my flight to start boarding. I ended up getting a basic Metro phone with a different number and continued to use that to keep in contact with my family, music professor, and work-related issues.
“Aye, we may have to stop in Boston on our way back,” Elijah said. I turned around, seeing him come back from the bathroom, looking at his phone.
So, yeah . . . here we are. I really can’t even explain why I was still with this maniac. He called me the night before through Rita, trying to apologize. I didn’t want to hear it. Not this close to Thanksgiving. All I wanted to think about was family time. I told her I really didn’t want to speak on everything until I got back. Once Rita told him where I was going, he asked if he could come, and I just . . . gave in. He was about to meet my family. We hadn’t even begun to address the list of issues we had, but here he was with me at the airport, locs underneath a skull cap, red sweats, and matching hoodie and coat. He knew I was upset, but he was trying to act like everything wa
s okay.
“What’s in Boston?” I asked softly as he grabbed his things, standing close to me as we started walking to our gate.
“I got some family up there on my mama’s side I want to see. You good?” He looked at me, waiting for a response, but I just stayed quiet. He knew he was in some deep shit with me.
You know when a man knows he’s in the wrong? They play like little puppies that just got a spanking. They try to warm up to you, being nice and on their best behavior, until the next time they act out. Elijah was no different. Wasn’t loud, being rude or obnoxious. He was being overly polite with the doors, making sure I was comfortable in the seat. The entire ride there was quiet and smooth-going. It wasn’t until after picking up the rental car and driving to my place that he began to show some nerves.
“Yo’ family knows about me?” he asked.
I glanced at him before focusing back on the road. “My parents know you’re coming,” I said, turning down a street. I missed home. It wasn’t as vibrant as Atlanta, especially where I lived, but it was still home.
As soon as we pulled up to a small house on the corner, I sighed, seeing all the cars parked sloppily in front. It was going to be a long night. I blew the horn as the porch light came on, with my little cousins running out.
“Jordyn, before we go in, I just wanted to say—”
“Not now, Elijah. Wait until I’m back in Atlanta,” I cut in, getting out.
“I’d rather talk about this shit now before we get in front of yo’ family looking like we can’t stand each other.”
“You should have never come if that was—”
“But I’m fucking here,” he snapped.
I looked at him, watching him get out of the car. It was pitch black out here as the rest of my family came piling out. My mom, who is this heavyset, chubby-cheeks woman with a sharp tongue who passed for white most of the time, went straight to me, hugging me hard.
“Oooh, I missed you, baby girl!” she let out as I hugged her, feeling her smooth my hair down. My daddy kept his eyes hard on Elijah, who was talking to my cousins. He was your typical Spanish man from the South—cowboy hat, boots, and jet black hair slicked back, with a thick mustache.
