by Ni-Ni Simone
“He was like”—I smacked my lips—“‘who is shortie over there?’”
“And you’re sure he wasn’t talking about me?” Courtney asked.
“You get a li’l carried away sometimes.” I shook my head. “Asha, he’s waiting on you.”
“Waiting on me? He better come over here. I am not”—she twisted her lips—“walking over there looking all easy and greasy. He has to come to me.”
I gave her a high five. “And you know this.”
I walked back over to Malachi, who was still standing next to Samaad and now Staci, who had worked her way in front of Malachi’s locker. I couldn’t help but suck my teeth. “Look,” I said to Samaad, “my homegirl thinks you’re cute but you know we don’t run up on men.” I looked over at Staci. “We ain’t all thirsty.”
“Who you talking to?” she snapped.
I ignored her and continued talking to Samaad. “Anyway, my friend’s name is Asha, and she’s expecting you.”
“Good lookin’ out.” He smiled and left me standing there. Before I could walk away from Malachi and Staci, who had her face twisted, the bell rang again and everyone headed to class.
For the next three periods straight all I thought about was Malachi. Something was terribly wrong with this because I was supposed to be heartbroken over Ameen, not contemplating cheating. The problem was my heart kept forgetting what my mind wouldn’t let go of.
I needed desperately to get back on track so I could maintain my focus: getting Ameen back.
I was in English class, and for the first time since school started I completed my classwork without the interruption of my vibrating phone letting me know Ameen was calling or sending me a text message. Utter silence was coming from my Prada bag, and I swore my love life was M.I.A.
By the time I got to chemistry, I was thinking and rethinking what I could’ve done differently about my baby …and then suddenly, as if a light autumn breeze had come my way, Malachi and I were on his bike riding in New York—Central Park—kickin’ it and holding hands, eating cotton candy and laughing at each other’s jokes. We shared a soda, and just when he’d asked me to be his girl is when the bell rang and I realized I was daydreaming about the wrong man.
This was a hot mess!
It was lunchtime and I felt out of my mind. Ameen had yet to call me back and just for GP sake I walked to the side door and peeked outside, only to see nothing. Damn.
I walked into the cafeteria and thought I could cry my heart out to my best friends, but they were both preoccupied. Asha and Samaad were sharing a secluded corner and Courtney was arguing with this dude named Otis. “How you gon’ get mad,” I heard Courtney say to Otis.
“’Cause somebody think you sexy? Don’t that sound crazy to you? I have a right to my opinion.”
I definitely wasn’t about to become part of that conversation; besides, Courtney could hold his own. Instead I stood in the lunch line and grabbed a salad and a bottle of water. It’s not that I was on a health food kick, it’s that I didn’t have an appetite, so there was no need to waste much money. I walked toward an empty table and “You don’t see me sitting here?” floated my way. It was Malachi, and there was no way I could fight back the smile on my face, so I let it go. I walked over to the table where Malachi was and sat down.
“Why do you seem so mad at me?” he asked as I started sipping my water.
I blew air out the side of my mouth. “You really don’t know?” I tooted my lips.
“No, and don’t give me a riddle, I don’t want to guess, I just want to know so we can move on.”
For some reason tears danced on my tongue but I was able to fight them. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“We’re not twelve anymore.”
“You don’t have to tell me that.”
“Then why can’t you express yourself?”
“For the same reasons you didn’t tell me you were moving and when I went to look for you, you were gone.”
“It was different then, Zsa. I had no choice.”
“You could’ve told me.”
“I was twelve years old. I didn’t know how to do that,” he said.
“Well, it is what it is.”
“But it doesn’t have to be.”
“Excuse me, but don’t you have a girl, playboy?”
“You concerned about my girl? ’Cause I’m damn sure not fazed by your man.”
“So what do you think—we gon’ all be one big happy couple? Not.”
Malachi laughed. “Listen, Staci’s family and my family are close. People expected us to grow up and be together…so we’ve been kickin’ it off and on long distance for a minute. But now that I’m here in Jersey, I’m not so sure if I’m feeling the relationship anymore.”
“And when did that change?”
“When I saw you.”
Silence. I didn’t know what to say or better yet what to do after that comment.
“Zsa, I’m sorry about leaving you. I am, but how long are you going to act like this?”
I couldn’t help but blush. “I missed you, you know that,” I admitted.
“Now I do.” He took my water from my hand and had a sip. “So wassup with your boy?”
“Who?”
“The dude you were with the other day. Do you love him like you love me?”
I looked into his face and just as I had made up my mind to keep it one hundred with him, and admit that I loved Malachi more, I noticed Staci standing at Malachi’s shoulder. “None of that matters now does it?” I stood up as the bell rang and walked away.
4
If I were a boy
I think I could understand how it feels to love a girl
I swear I’d be a better man…
—BEYONCÉ, “IF I WERE A BOY”
I felt as if I had weights pressed against my tongue. I hadn’t heard from Ameen in three days, and I swear I could do nothing without crying. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, and I promise you I wanted no one—and I mean no one—who lived in my house to talk to me. Everything they said got on my nerves, and in return I greeted them with straight attitude. I wanted to scream, “Don’t you see my heart is bleeding on the floor? Can’t you see that I’m missing my man like crazy? Can’t you see that nothing you say to me will be as important as what I’m feeling right now? Can’t you just leave me the hell alone?”
But, no, my mother stayed in my neck about making sure the house stayed clean and the dishes were washed. And Hadiah was in my face every day telling me stories about what went on with her in school.
Can you say inconsiderate?
I laid faceup on my bed while slow jams serenaded me in the background, and I wondered why I couldn’t have the perfect life. Why did everything have to be so complicated and confusing? Why couldn’t Ameen understand me and be reasonable?
This was hell.
I turned on my side and wondered who I could call and confide my sorrows in, but I really didn’t want to hear Asha or Courtney’s opinion, and I most definitely would cut somebody if they even suggested that I quit my baby. So I decided that the only one who could handle my secrets were the pages of my diary.
I took my sacred book from my nightstand and bled my sorrows onto the pages.
Dear Diary:
Life is so confusing. Sometimes I wonder if people are really happy or if they are just faking the funk and along for the ride. I feel so stupid with Ameen…like…like…I’m not good enough for him to treat me well and to love me right. I just want peace. I swear, I wish that Ameen could see that it’s all about him. I wish I could see into the future, so I would know when this pain would be ending. Or better yet, I wish I had somebody to talk to…my friends are too opinionated and my mother. Paleeze.
Of course my mother was at work. Ever since my father died, finding other things to do besides staying home had been her answer to everything. And I guess I could understand it. I didn’t like to stay at home either. But still…I was there sometimes. And talking t
o her? Not. Every time I’d tried to talk to her, her answer to everything was, “Pray about it.” Or “pray for him, pray for her, pray for it.” So I just stopped asking her anything. And now when she asked me questions as if she was actually interested in my life, I simply said to her, “I prayed about it already.”
Anyway, today was typical, me in tears.
I held my diary to my chest, laid down with my face on the pillow, and cried…again.
An hour later, I turned over on my side and my heart throbbed. Ciara’s “Never Ever” was playing, and as my mind absorbed each and every lyric I felt as if I had drowned in depression.
I reached over to my nightstand, flipped to another radio station. Beyoncé was singing about being a boy. I promise you, I had gone insane.
I felt bad enough as it was. I didn’t need the radio pouring salt in my wounds. The memory of what happened between me and Ameen played over and over again at least a thousand times in my head, each time with a different ending and a different way I should’ve said what I had to say.
I looked at the clock and only fifteen minutes had passed. Yo, I was buggin’. I turned to lay on my back and stared at the ceiling…. Being without my baby was killing me and I couldn’t take it. I picked up my cell phone and called him, but of course he sent me straight to voice mail. I hung up feeling even more pathetic.
It was official, I’d lost my mind. The clock was creeping time by, and forever was passing my way. I thought about driving over to Ameen’s place unannounced, but then again maybe not. The last time I pulled that he made me get back in my car, call him on my cell phone, and ask permission to come to his house. I thought it was funny, so I did it. Only for him to tell me, “no,” he was going to sleep. Not wanting to repeat that drama I quickly erased the popup-over-his-spot idea from my mind…but then again, I could always do a drive-by.
Just when I decided I should give up and let myself wither away, my phone rang. I didn’t even look at the caller ID. I was too scared of being disappointed…but of course you know I had to play it off, so I flipped the radio to 105.1 where Jamie Foxx and T-Pain were singing about blaming it on the alcohol. “You rang?” I answered my line.
“Dang, girl,” Asha said, “you sound good for somebody who’s brokenhearted.”
“You sure do,” Courtney chimed in. “I would be crying my eyes out.”
I sucked my teeth. “What y’all tricks want?”
“Whatever.” Asha laughed.
“Especially since you’re not doing anything but sulking behind Ameen’s dusty butt.” Courtney laughed.
“Don’t call my baby dusty,” I said defensively. This is why I hated to confide in them, because they always threw it back in my face at the wrong time.
“Did you talk to him yet?” Asha asked.
“No,” I snapped. “Do I look like a donkey? I’m not sweatin’ no man.”
“Dang, girl,” Courtney said, “you’re real strong, ’cause I would be listening to a buncha sad songs, crying, and asking God why.”
“Not.” I faked a laugh, hating that he’d just described me to a tee. “Look, Ameen knows I am not the one to be chasin’ him so when he gets over his tantrum he’ll call me, but other than that I’m doin’ me.”
“Cool,” Asha said. “So, come hang out with us at the Chocolate Bar.”
“I’m not going there,” I said. “You know er’body and their mama will be there, and I am not trying to see Ameen.”
“Why you frontin’?” Asha said. “You know Ameen is exactly who you wanna see.”
“Uhm-hmm,” Courtney said, “so throw on your gear extra cute and meet us outside in a few minutes.”
“Who’s driving?” I asked.
“Me,” Courtney said. “Granny let me borrow the Mary Kay Cadillac.”
“Courtney, you don’t even have a license.”
Asha laughed. “I’m driving. I borrowed my brother’s car.”
Reluctantly I slid on a pair of tight Juicy jeans, a fitted Juicy tee, and a midriff denim jacket, with silver accessories and black stilettos. By the time I was done my friends were in front of my house waiting for me.
“Dang!” Courtney said, as I climbed into the backseat. “Why are your eyes so swollen? Oh, my, you’ve been lying to us. You been crying all night.”
“Whatever,” I snapped, knowing that tears were dancing in my mouth right now.
When we got to the Chocolate Bar the place was packed. We saw everybody from school and the hood in the place. We kicked it with a few people and then the hostess showed us our table.
The bad part about being there was that the food was slamming but I didn’t have an appetite.
Courtney and Asha were talking about something—what, I don’t know—because of course my mind had wandered back to my man, which is why when I heard, “Yo” float over my shoulders, I thought it was my imagination. At least until I heard it again. “Yo, Zsa.” Now, that was Ameen. I felt like screaming and jumping up in glee. It’s a good thing I always looked good when I went out—kept this dude on his toes and gave him something to worry about. I did my best to suppress my smile as I looked up into his beautiful face, twisted my lips, and said, “May I help you?”
The vein on the side of Ameen’s neck was thumping, causing the tattoo on his neck to rise. “Let me hollah at you for a second.”
“Nope.” My eyes combed the menu.
“What did you say?” Ameen asked in disbelief.
“She said bye.” Courtney gave Ameen a salute.
“See ya,” Asha followed up.
“Yo,” Ameen said sternly, “I’m not playin’.”
I sucked my teeth, rolled my eyes, and turned to my friends. “Just give me a minute to see what he wants. I’ll be back.” I walked away quickly before either of them could say something sarcastic.
Ameen and I walked into a secluded spot in the hallway and instead of talking he stood back and looked at me as if I were crazy.
“Okay.” I looked around. “Wassup? What is it?”
“Me and you have an argument and instead of continuing to apologize you chillin’ with Mrs. Big Drawls and Ru-Paul?”
“Don’t talk about my friends. And anyway, you know how many times I called you? Please.”
“Please what?”
“Excuse you?” I said, taken aback. “You thought I was supposed to stay home and cry over you forever? Not.”
“You tryna show off?” He pointed in my face.
“You’re the one who hasn’t been answering your phone!”
“You were on punishment. Don’t try and get brand new like you didn’t know the drill.”
“On punishment? Excuse you. I’m not a kid. I am grown.”
“Then act like it. Now, go get your things, we’re leaving.”
“Boy, please, don’t even play yourself. I wish I would leave.”
“You’re not listening now?” He walked up close to me and I felt like he could swallow every breath I took.
“All I’m saying is that I’m here with Courtney and Asha. I can’t just leave like that.”
“Oh, so they are more important than me?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“I see where this is goin’. Ai’ight then,” Ameen said.
“Ameen, don’t be like that.”
“Nah, you don’t have to come. It’s no thing. I mean, we have a li’l disagreement and now you treat me like this. It’s cool. We’re done.” He walked away.
I caught hold of Ameen’s forearm. “Ameen, stop playin’. Just hold it, give me a minute.”
“Didn’t I just say you didn’t have to come with me? I can get me some company if that’s what I need to do.”
“Don’t play with me!” I snapped as I pulled out my phone and texted Asha and Courtney. “Call me later. Ameen needs me.”
We stepped into the parking lot and I followed Ameen to a hot-pink Toyota Corolla. “Whose car is that, Ameen?”
“My sister’s friend’s cousin’s car. She le
t me hold it for a few days.”
“Sister’s friend who? And why would they let you hold their car?”
“You getting in or not?”
I sighed. I knew this was bananas. “I just don’t feel comfortable being in this car,” I said.
“Then don’t get in.” Ameen slid in the car and put the keys in the ignition.
Reluctantly I slid into the car. “Ameen, I hope we don’t keep going through these changes.”
“Yo, are you gon’ nag me? ’Cause if you naggin’ you can stay here. But I’m trying to be a man about the situation and show you some attention. I mean, I left my people in there and my food on the table to be able to kick it with you—”
Ameen did have a point. “Ameen, sometimes I just feel…”
“Zsa, can we have one conversation where we don’t talk about how you feel? I swear, you are so selfish. How about how I feel? I’m over here stressed over you and you out partying with your friends.”
“Why are you so extreme?” I said, exhausted.
“Oh, now you usin’ big words? Extreme?”
“Ameen, I love you. You know that.”
“All I know is what I see. And what I see is that you don’t appreciate me. I mean, if you want me to step just say that.”
“No.” I turned to him. “I don’t want you to go anywhere.”
“Well, show me how much you want me to stay,” he said as he pulled into a secluded section of the parking lot. He climbed over the console and pushed my seat all the way back.
“You know I missed you.” He started kissing me.
“And I missed you too,” I said, feeling my heart become at ease a few seconds later. And we started to kiss and do things that only the night would witness.
5
Ring the alarm, I’ve been through this too long…
—BEYONCÉ, “RING THE ALARM”
The crisp autumn wind blew through my hair as I drove over to Ameen’s house. I turned the radio on and Jay-Z and Young Jeezy were singing about our president being black. I looked in the rearview mirror and I was too cute for words, my heart was at ease, and I felt as if world peace was achievable again.
