My Muted Love (Muted Hoplessness Book 1)

by Love Belvin

  “Your friend ain’t wanna come?”

  What?

  “Huhn?”

  Dre’s regard was over my head, looking at someone. He waved them down, too. “Your friend. The one sitting with you,” he explained.

  When his face opened in a smile, I glanced up myself and that’s when I noticed Samantha coming down. It took her longer than me because she wasn’t as agile on her feet as I was, but she zig-zagged through the sea of bodies in the walkway.

  “What do you want?” I asked him.

  “Spence called for you.” He tossed his chin toward the field then went back to smiling, hands tucked in his jacket pockets.

  It took a few seconds, but I found Ashton and a beat after that, he’d found me. His eyes narrowed on me before going back to the crowd in front of him.

  “Here she go,” Dre announced. “C’mon.”

  Samantha was at my side in an instant and we followed behind Dre, running into the security on the field. He mentioned I was a Panther and they let us through, going back to observing the bleachers. We continued to trail Dre, weaving between another throng of excited bodies. When it became too much, I stopped. Or when I met eyes with Aivery, I should say. Her triumphant expression faded when she recognized me, then I noticed when she tried to revive it. Dre kept going while I remained cemented in place. Samantha was at my side, wild eyes scanning the crowd on the field.

  “Spence!”

  “Ashton!”

  “Spencer!”

  The sound of his name seemed to have gotten louder, making me look directly in front of me. Ashton cut through the last of the crowd and was traveling directly my way. His eyes were pinned to me, forcing me to pay him the same measure of attention. People were flanking behind him, including a cameraman. That was one thing Samantha was able to answer for me once we arrived at the game. BSU’s games were televised, another level of fanciness of the school I wasn’t used to.

  “Ain’t you got something to say?”

  Ain’t?

  From Ashton Spencer?

  “What?”

  His amused eyes went from me to the right. “Hello, Samantha.”

  “Hi, Spence.” She ducked her head shyly. Oh, give me a break! It’s just Ashton. “Congrats on the win.”

  His attention returned to me. “At least someone knows proper etiquette.” Half his face lifted in a devious smirk while his eyes narrowed.

  Shit…

  “Congratulations, Ashton,” I offered part dryly, part embarrassed. I had to do better with my manners. “You happy now?” My goofy grin hijacked my face and I rolled my eyes again.

  But when he opened his arms, requesting a hug, my entire frame went rigid. Swallowing hard, my eyes rolled around.

  “Oh, knock it the fuck off, McNabb!” Ashton charged me, lifting my whole body in the air.

  He ran in a circle with me on his dirty shoulder. Samantha squealed, and Dre and others laughed at Ashton’s playfulness. My thoughts went to Aivery, but he moved too fast for me to find her. When he set me back on my feet, I was disoriented for a minute.

  So, when Dre asked, “Y’all coming to the bonfire tonight, right?” I didn’t quite process it.

  It could have been that his eyes were glued to Samantha when he did.

  “Yeah,” Ashton answered in his bossy nature. “McNabb’ll be there. She’s BSU’s champ, just won a fight this week. Dual celebration tonight!”

  “True that!” Dre slapped his palms together.

  At the same time, Ashton’s name was being called by several people.

  “I gotta go do press,” Ashton explained, clearly about to leave. He pointed to me. “See your fidgety ass tonight.”

  Before I could answer, he disappeared into the waiting crowd. But I did catch Aivery’s eyes on me, her mental calculator computing overtime.

  Game days could be tough, but big game days like this one were brutal, and particularly when you didn’t have your family there with you. It didn’t matter if it was to celebrate a W or support you through an L, no one showed love the way my family did. When my mother, uncles, aunts, and a few cousins told me via phone call, email, or text they wouldn’t be here in the span of a week, slowly, I fell disappointed. Of course, I didn’t express this to them. I wasn’t the type to guilt people into supporting me at their expense or make them feel obligated. Even with that, this was still unusual for my family. They enjoyed homecoming at BSU. I guessed the situation with Brick had taken its toll on everyone.

  So, I woke up this morning purposed to accept my family wouldn’t be here today. A certain leggy, booby tomboy made that part of the day easy. Even without the presence of my family, my day had turned out great. We defeated NC A&T during my last BSU homecoming. Life was still sweet. Now that post-game press was over and I’d just stepped out of the shower, I could finish the day with celebration.

  I dried my head on the way to my locker. Most of the guys were done getting dressed at this point, only a few of us lingered for interviews. But I could still hear them cutting up in the front lounge area of the Panthers locker room. The first thing I checked was my phone. There were BBM texts from Aivery—already—my mother saying she’d been emailed pictures from the game, my uncle, and cousins. Needing to get dressed, I decided I’d answer them while I ate. Moms wasn’t big on texting, but had done it a few times to reach out.

  When I pulled out my bag, I saw someone approach from my peripheral.

  Smiling, I shouted out young Marcus Bell. “Bell, my nigga. What’s the deal?”

  He greeted me with a dap then took a seat on the bench a few feet away while I sorted my clothes.

  “Yo.” He scratched the back of his head, expressing unease. Bell was my frat brother, my little. A Detroit native, he was in his third year here and had been cool with me since he stepped foot on BSU’s campus, declaring his name on the rosters of the Panthers and AOPsi’s. I always liked his swag and ambition. He’d done some volunteer work on our frat’s behalf in his hometown, feeding the homeless. He and Karmen used to fuck around until Bell got back with his high school sweetheart over a Christmas break. Although he and ol’ girl from home didn’t last past the New Year, Karm didn’t trust him after that and moved on. “I don’t think there’s ever been a good opportunity for me to tell you this shit.”

  “You better take that shit now, youngin,” my delivery indifferent, mind on a different planet as I wildly wondered what would Tori McNabb wear to the bonfire. The girl had no style, something I’d been contemplating remedying. “I’m about to get fawked up.”

  “It’s about Aivery.”

  “What about her?”

  He didn’t respond right away. “It’s about Aivery and Ben Pettiford.”

  Benjamin…

  My head lifted from the duffle bag. “Spit it.”

  “You know the chick I’m fuckin’ with stay in Winnie. Right?” Winnie Mandela was the dormitory Aivery stayed in. I didn’t nod for confirmation, wanting him to get on with his story.

  “Two weeks ago, when I was chillin’ with Towanda from the band at their practice field, I went inside to take a leak. On the way to the bathroom, I passed by Ben’s office and saw Aivery in there leaning on his desk, kicking it. I spoke and kept it moving. Then, this past Monday night, I walked Towanda back to her dorm mad late and saw Ben and Aivery in his car in the back of the building.”

  Pacing my reaction, I lightly rubbed the tip of my nose with the knuckle of my index finger. “How late?”

  “Late,” he emphasized. “It had to be well after three in the morning. My roommate back at the chapter house was up in the room fuckin’ two tricks, and Towanda was crabbing on me about it, so we bounced. I ended up staying in her room that night, but had to get up early for training.” He twisted his mouth, eyes moving in a circular motion in their sockets. This was hard for a little to tell his big, I guessed, because Benjamin Pettiford was his big, too. “Look, it may sound petty, but I fucks with you, so I’m just gone say it.” I nodded to encourage
him. “I left out between five and five-fifteen, and they were still in the car talking.”

  I didn’t speak, considering all he’d shared.

  “Look, I ‘on’t want you thinking I’m wasting your time, and shit.” He stood from the bench. “I ain’t see them touching or kissing, or no shit like that. But that late night frackin’ it up in the car—”

  “Escaping sleep shit is real suspect. I get it.” I pressed my hand to my chest as a sign of humble appreciation. “I appreciate this, bruh.” Then we gripped it up AOPsi style.

  “Black forever, brothers for life.” Marcus saluted me and turned to take off.

  So this was life. Aivery canoodling with her first crush. That was a stretch. I didn’t believe she was fucking Pettiford, but it was obvious there was an emotional connection they weren’t letting go of. Clearly, me finding out and having the reaction to it I’d had didn’t deter her from using his bootleg ass employment on the campus as an opportunity to continue it.

  As I dressed for the day, I wondered why Aivery didn’t simply take the out I gave her at the start of the school year.

  12

  -Then-

  “Shit!” Aivery muttered, clutching my arm tighter while holding her red Solo cup in the air. “The fucking ground.”

  It was pliant from last night’s rainstorm. The branches were still damp, even the large, curled ones we usually sat on that were growing back into the ground. Why she wore heels just to chill in the woods was beyond me. We stood in an inlet of hanging branches covered by dangling leaves because, ironically, the ground was firmer here. And because of that, we were isolated from the rest of the gang of people out here, and away from all three bonfires going, creating heat.

  “Say cheese,” Karmen requested cheerfully, holding a camera up to us. She’d been making her rounds with that damn thing for the past half hour. This was the fifth time we were posing for a cheesy picture. After a few clicks, she dropped the camera to her pelvis and her gaze lingered. She lifted her shoulders and dipped her chin as though mesmerized. “You two are so fucking gorgeous. When’s the engagement? I’ve got to make sure my body’s ready. I’ve got to be slim and trim for the occasion.”

  Aivery’s face whipped to my profile, nose to my beard. I refused to respond to her goading. Karmen was either drunk or two sips away from it. I wouldn’t entertain a personal, and now, touchy question as that.

  I tossed my chin to her, completely ignoring Aivery underneath me. “Who would be your plus one, Karm?”

  That broke her fairy tale spell. Karmen’s shoulders dropped and she rolled her eyes. “Unless you have an identical twin in personality and all, I’m fucking doomed.” She pushed her tongue out in disdain, then walked away with a crushed spirit.

  Aivery and I laughed. Karmen, Aivery’s bestie by function, was melodramatic when sober, and fucking theatrical when drinking.

  “Yo!” Dre approached us with Hakeem McDowell, a point guard on his team, in tow. “We been debating over there.” He pointed over his shoulder. “Whose idea was that last play that stole the game today?”

  “No disrespect, big homie,” Hakeem paid me some love, dapping it up. “but that was some shit none of us expected. Y’all showed us why BSU is that fuckin’ winning ticket!”

  Aivery caressed the hand of mine hanging over her shoulder. “Did you guys put money on it?”

  They laughed. Hell, we all did. The Courvoisier XO Dre supplied for the team tonight had me nice. It was a tradition with my Panthers crew; whenever a team won, the other would supply liquor or arrange the celebration party. This had been a practice for the past two years for the football, basketball, and baseball teams, only when they were considered big games. The preacher’s kid knew his spirits.

  “Nah. We just wanna understand the order of greatness, my nigga,” Dre explained.

  A burst of feminine laughter had my attention going beyond the nook of the big tree. The first place my eyes landed was in their default landing: over at the bonfire where Tori had been with her roommate, Samantha, and her science major crew. Coincidentally, they were who caused the sudden hike in energy. They formed a circle with the one girl, Korin, in the middle dancing to old school Mary J. Blige. “I Can Love You” was a vibe back in the day. I was a kid during that time, and still understood that. I guessed they felt the same.

  Korin had, had enough of the spotlight and pulled Samantha into the center of their loose circle, then she exited and cheered her on. Samantha looked awkward as fuck, gripping her plastic cup protectively to her chest. Her shoulders were high near her neck as she tensely two-stepped and shook her head. I laughed mentally as Aivery cracked the hell up beneath me.

  “Those geeky bitches can’t dance for shit,” Aivery clowned. “Look at this one. Ain’t she white? What’s her name again?”

  I watched as Samantha was a good sport at being put on blast by her friends who tried hyping her up.

  “Fuckin’ Samantha,” Dre answered throatily. His eyes were locked dead on her, which could mean only one thing. “I want that so fuckin’ bad, bruh.”

  Chuckling, I turned my attention back to the girls just as Samantha grabbed Tori’s arm. That’s when the girls went up in volume again, hooting their dare and encouragement. My eyes went wild, and I could swear my heart began to fucking pound. Tori had been cool out here for the past ninety or so minutes. She seemed to enjoy herself with those girls. I knew how weird she could be socially and didn’t want any fucking undue attention or pressure on her.

  “Your arm is crushing me!” Aivery laughed beneath me, squirming and lifting my arm from her shoulder.

  Shit…

  “Oh, fuck,” Hakeem choked out. “Ain’t that, that boxer?”

  Tori joined her friend in the circle, smiling and holding their interlinked hands in the air while cupping her drink in the other, too. Does Tori drink drink? She was taller than Samantha, and tried to spin her around. Samantha followed Tori’s lead. She also followed Tori’s “safe” two-step movements. The girls noticed Tori’s instruction and praised her.

  “Alright, TM!” Teefah shouted.

  Then Tori disconnected from Samantha and began a smooth and rhythmic whine, descending into a squat. I lost my balance momentarily and had to catch myself—and Aivery.

  What the fuck…

  I blinked, clearing the haze. She stayed low for a while before slowly coming up, never breaking the smooth rotation of her ass. An ass with a contour I’d become all too familiar with. When she resumed a standing position, Tori exited the circle, laughing and actually looking like a normal girl with normal girls her age. The only thing fraudulent about the perception was Tori McNabb was no ordinary girl. It was the very thing that annoyed the fuck out of me and lured me to her.

  “Daaaaaaaamn!” Hakeem howled, dropping his weight onto Dre. “You see that shit, bro?”

  Dre smiled cunningly with a predator’s nod. “Damn sure did.”

  “I’d climb that fucking redwood and fuck the shit out of it!” Hakeem jumped up and down, pealing in laughter.

  I scoffed, “It?” Trying to mask my anger, I chuckled and quickly tempered myself. “You called the girl an it?”

  “A diseased it!” Aivery slapped her mouth with her palm, playfully.

  Hakeem laughed, and Dre’s unsure eyes met mine knowingly. And not because he knew how cool Tori and I had become—no one knew that. But it was because he knew we were cool, and that she was on the no slander list. I confirmed his inclination with a simple gaze.

  “Chill, man,” Dre warned peacefully. “Ain’t nothing diseased about ol’ girl. She’s mad cool, to me.”

  “Yeah, whatever. That bitch been weird, coming on campus with those busted ass sneakers and her hair all over the place.” Hakeem chuckled.

  Aivery snickered with him. My chest tightened, lips, too, when venom shot from my belly to my mouth.

  “She’s an athlete, man. A beast at boxing, too.” Dre laughed, twisting the top of his head. “I put a stack on her droppi
ng your ass if you say that shit to her face.”

  “I ain’t about to disrespect the girl,” Hakeem laughed. “Not after twerking like that! She can get this dick, though!”

  “Chill, my nigga. Tori ain’t beat for no tricks no way. Get to know her, man,” Dre advised him. “She’s a Panther.”

  “Call her over then!” Hakeem slapped his palms together, licking his lips.

  “Ilk! You wouldn’t dare, would you?” Aivery challenged him.

  “You’re right.” Hakeem sipped his drink. “She probably into girls anyway.”

  I wanted to fucking body his little ass. All I needed was one more reason, and I’d hem McDowell’s ass up and roast him over the fire. Dre paid me a gaze once again, and I gave him a singular dip of my chin.

  “Yo, Tori!” Dre took off, shouting.

  “Oh, shit!” Aivery laughed.

  My eyes remained locked onto Hakeem, conjuring all the shit I’d do to finish his ass.

  I ducked, almost running into a hanging branch. It was cooler over here, and darker. The light from the bonfires barely reached behind the leaves.

  “Oop!” Aivery giggled. “Be careful, giant. You’re going to drop your drink.”

  Her body was kissed to Ashton’s big frame with ownership. I made sure to stop at a distance to them.

  Ashton’s face was tight, eyes narrowed as he tried looking into my cup. “What’re you sipping on, champ?”

  I shrugged. “Some wine.”

  Tasted more like spiked punch to me, but Samantha and her science friends were drinking it, and swore I should, too. All except for Teefah. She said it was cheap and disgusting. It had me feeling nice, and able to ignore the big man on campus all this time. That was until Dre summonsed me over.

  “That’s that cheap ass Sutter’s Home garbage.” Dre pointed behind him. “There’s some Josh…Chateau Ste. Michelle, and some other shit over there.”

  “I’m good.” I wasn’t comfortable with him being so nice, in spite of Samantha’s stupid crush on him.