“Then why are you here?” Jake asked. “Where the hell did you even come from?”
“I’m here because you needed me,” said Lily. “Why can’t that just be enough?”
Ian knocked and then opened the door slowly.
“Come in,” Jake barked.
Ian brought in a tray. A fifth of vodka and a glass of orange juice was on the tray. Ian sat it down on the bed and then left.
“Don’t do it . . .” Lily said, her eyes pleading.
“Leave me alone,” said Jake. He grabbed the bottle of vodka, opened it, and brought it up to his nose and smelled it. Then he put it back down on the tray, clasped his hands in front of his face and begin mumbling to himself. To Lily, it looked like he was praying. When he was done, Jake took the bottle into the bathroom. Lily followed. Jake looked up at the bathroom ceiling, exhaled, and opened the bottle of vodka. He lifted the toilet seat and poured it out, shaking out the last drops until it was completely empty. Jake flushed the toilet and then closed the lid and sat on it.
“Congratulations.”
“Lily . . .” Jake began.
Lily held up a hand.
“Don’t thank me. I did what I had to do.”
Lily led Jake back to his bed. He climbed in, and she pulled the covers over him and helped him drink some orange juice.
“I don’t like this,” Jake whispered.
“You don’t like what?”
“Not being numb. I can feel stuff.”
“Like what?”
“Missing Kipenzi. And not wanting you to leave.”
“Sounds normal to me.”
“I don’t like it.”
“Give it some time.”
Jake rolled over to his side, facing Lily.
“Can you lay here with me?” Jake asked.
“Yes, I can.”
Lily took off her shoes and slipped into bed next to Jake. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed the back of his neck. Jake turned around to face her and his heart turned over. He was still shivering uncontrollably and every so often he would hear himself babbling incoherently.
The next time he fully woke up, he felt like a new person. Lily was still there, in his arms.
“How long have I been asleep?” Jake said.
Lily opened her eyes and smiled. She leaned in and kissed Jake on the cheek.
“Off and on since yesterday,” she whispered.
Jake went to the bathroom, washed his face and brushed his teeth, and then returned to bed. As soon as he got comfortable and rearranged Lily in his arms he felt something strange. Somehow, he missed his wife fiercely. But he also desperately wanted to move on and love the woman in his arms just as much.
“I miss my wife,” Jake said. He choked on the word wife.
Lily moved closer to Jake and rubbed his back.
“I know you do.”
“I miss her so much,” Jake said under his breath. He put his hands up to Lily’s face and pulled her close to him. He kissed her. And for the first time, he felt her kissing him back. Holding a woman while sober was an entirely new experience for Jake and he drank it in, smelling and tasting Lily as she kissed him. He knew it wasn’t Kipenzi. She was never coming back. But here was someone right here, in his bed, who really cared about him.
Jake rolled Lily over to her back and pulled her shirt over her head. Her arms moved up to her chest and covered them. Her eyes were wide with what looked like fear.
“It’s okay,” Jake said, softly moving her hands down to her side.
“I’m not Kipenzi,” Lily said.
Jake nodded.
“I just want you to be you. Only you.”
Jake leaned in to kiss Lily on the chest and she pushed him back up.
“What did you say?”
Jake froze.
“I said I want you to be you.”
“You really mean that?”
Jake looked at Lily.
“Yes, I really mean that. I want you to be exactly who you are. You are brave and smart and funny and interesting. I want you to be that person. And that person only.”
Jake watched as Lily closed her eyes and sighed. Her body seemed to relax beneath his. He felt himself getting hard and Lily’s eyes popped open when she felt it too.
“Is this okay?” Jake asked.
Lily didn’t answer.
“Lily?”
Lily said nothing.
“Shit,” Jake said. He lifted himself up with his hands so that he was hovering over her.
“You’ve never done this before have you?”
Lily stared at Jake, not speaking.
“How old are you?” Jake asked. “And don’t lie to me.”
“Twenty-one.”
“Do you want to do this?” Jake asked.
Lily didn’t answer. Jake moved her legs apart with his own and wrapped her legs around his back. He moved against her body until he heard her breathing harder. Jake took his time. Twenty minutes later, he was still kissing her, holding her, and moving his hands up and down her body. Jake reached over to his bedside table, took out a condom, and gave it to Lily.
“Put it on me,” he said, guiding her hands inside his boxers.
Lily rolled it on, her eyes closed tight. As soon as Jake started to enter her, he felt her whole body tense up.
“Am I hurting you?” he asked.
Lily shook her head back and forth.
“Are you sure?”
Lily nodded.
Jake kept pushing, as gently as he could. He watched Lily’s face carefully to see if she were in pain. Her eyes opened wide and she looked surprised and in awe.
“Is it okay?” Jake asked.
Lily nodded and Jake pushed in deeper. He felt Lily’s nails digging into his back as he moved inside of her. After a few minutes, he felt her cling tighter to him, locking her legs around him. Jake felt Lily begin to twitch.
“Ohmygod,” she whispered.
“It’s okay,” Jake said.
Lily’s body jerked several times. She sat up, Jake still holding on to her, and squeezed her eyes tight.
“Shit!”
“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”
Lily collapsed back on the bed and took several deep breaths. Jake pulled out and laid beside her.
“Did I hurt you?” Jake asked.
Lily shook her head.
“But,” she said. “We didn’t finish. You didn’t . . .”
Jake gathered her in his arms and kissed her forehead.
“Don’t worry, Lily,” Jake said. “We’re not done.”
Corinne paced the room while Lily cowered in the corner of the living room. She was getting angrier by the second and Lily wasn’t entirely sure that her friend wasn’t going to outright smack her.
“What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t thinking!”
“Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
“Please don’t do this. I need your help right now.”
Lily reached out a hand and Corinne smacked it away.
“What is the first rule, Lily?”
“Don’t have sex with any man who doesn’t know.”
“You made that rule up, Lily. Not me. I didn’t tell you how to live your life. You decided to set those parameters for your own safety. So why would you let this happen? Why?”
Lily pulled at her hair and then sat on the couch and put her head down.
“I don’t know what happened. I just got caught up. And I started thinking—”
“You started thinking he never has to know. I’ll just take what I can get right now because this feels so good and so right and so normal. Never mind how he would react if he found out. Right, Lily? Just live in the moment. Throw caution to the wind. Right?”
Lily kept her mouth closed. She had no defense and no excuses. Corinne was absolutely right. In that moment, when Jake asked her if she wanted to do it, she just didn’t care. She didn’t care if she never saw him again. Or if she had to move halfw
ay around the world to make sure he never found out. She wanted it. She wanted him. And she was willing to pretend in order to feel that sense of normalcy she knew she’d never have.
“I just wanted to know what it would feel like to be a girl,” Lily said quietly. “Not a trans girl. Just a regular born-this-way girl.”
“What gives you the right, Lily?”
Lily covered her ears.
“I know! God!”
Corinne glared at Lily with a wild look on her face. She took her bag off her shoulder, dropped it on the floor, leaned down, and pulled out a handful of photos. She went over to Lily and dropped them in her lap. Lily picked one up and then dropped it. Her heart was beating out of her chest. Corinne picked up the photos and walked to Lily, backing her up to the wall.
“Look at her,” Corinne said, tears streaming down her face. “Look at what he did to her.”
Lily closed her eyes as Corinne tried to put the photos closer to her face.
“Open your eyes. Open your eyes, Lily!”
Lily looked at the photo. And then turned away and covered her mouth with her hands, willing herself not to be sick while Corinne screamed at her.
“My sister went out with him three times,” Corinne said. “And she didn’t let him so much as kiss her. She wouldn’t even hold his hand. He said he was in love with her. He said that nothing she could tell him would change his mind. She believed him, Lily. So she told him the truth. And guess what? He said he was okay with it.” Corinne smiled wistfully. “He said he did not care. Can you believe it? She came home that night and she was over the moon. She told me they had sex, it was amazing and he was completely fine with the whole thing. He told her to come over the next day so they could spend some time together and—”
Corinne stopped, dropped her head, and cried hard. Then she stopped abruptly and looked up at Lily.
“And this is what he did. He beat her with his bare hands. Then he grabbed a fire extinguisher and bashed her with it until she was completely unrecognizable. The coroner said my sister was already dead by the time he started beating her with the fire extinguisher.”
Lily shook her head slowly, trying to stop crying.
“You think Jake can’t find out the truth? Manny found out. What makes you think Jake couldn’t find out? And what do you think he would do? Send you a dozen fucking lilies with an engagement ring inside? Fat chance, Lily. You’re an idiot.”
Corinne went to a bookcase in Lily’s bedroom and came back out with a photo album filled with newspaper articles.
“Victoria Carmen White,” said Corinne, holding up the album and pointing to a clipping. “She met two guys at a party and then went home with them. They found out she was trans and they shot and killed her.”
Corinne flipped the pages quickly, her eyes on Lily. She stopped on a page and stabbed at it with her pointer finger.
“Myra Ical. Found in a field, beaten to death. She had bruises on her hands that show she tried to fight back. She belonged to a local trans support group.” Corinne looked up at Lily. “Myra was the tenth unsolved homicide against a trans woman in Houston in ten years.”
“Corinne, I know what you’re—”
“Duanna Johnson, Nakhia Williams—” Corinne flipped the pages faster and faster. “Erika Keels, Ruby Ordenana.”
Corinne stopped on one page and shook her head back and forth.
“Gwen Araujo,” she said softly, moving her fingers along the page as she read. “She went to a party with two guys she’d been involved with. They had no idea she was trans. But two other guys at the party were suspicious. They’d heard rumors. They stripped her down and inspected her and discovered the truth. They choked her and then hit her in the head with a can of dog food and then a frying pan. Then they left and came back with a pickax and a shovel.”
Corinne closed the book and tossed it to the side of the room.
“They beat her to death. Hog-tied her and threw her in the back of a pickup truck. Drove her body out to the Sierra Nevada Mountains and buried her there.”
Lily stared at Corinne, praying she was done. She knew all the stories, practically by heart. She was the one who had created the scrapbook. Those stories informed all the choices she’d ever made about how she would carry herself before and after surgery. And she’d thrown everything she believed in away.
“I don’t want to ever talk to you again,” said Corinne, rising to her feet.
“Wait,” Lily pleaded. “You’re right. I messed up.”
“Do you think I want to come here and clean your brains off the walls?! Do you?”
Corinne picked up her bag, stuffed the photos inside, and stalked to the door.
“Do not call me when this shit blows up in your face. You better hire a bodyguard. Or better yet, move.”
Corinne pulled out her keys, removed Lily’s spare keys from her ring, and tossed them on to the couch. Lily followed her to the door, pleading with her to stay. Corinne never stopped or even slowed down. She pounded the button for the elevator and when it didn’t come fast enough, she walked to the stairwell and disappeared.
In the middle of a quick nap on the living room sofa, there was a series of heavy raps at Birdie’s door. He sat up abruptly and looked around. He wasn’t sure if he’d been dreaming or if the knocks were real. When he heard more knocks, he got up and went to the door. He looked through the peephole and then swung the door open.
Gerald, Terrence, and Biz spilled into his foyer, laughing and talking. They made their way into the kitchen and continued talking about their evening the night before. As they talked about groupies and strip clubs, Birdie just stared.
The guy at the refrigerator was his new manager, Gerald. He had been his label rep for the past year and when Travis left, he offered to step in. Although they’d been working together for only a few weeks, he had quickly become a constant presence at the house and he and Birdie had forged a friendship of sorts. Gerald’s assistant, Terrence, was sitting at the counter, swigging a cup of orange juice. Birdie wasn’t sure how he felt about Terrence. He was just the guy who always arrived with Gerald. And then there was Biz, his bodyguard and permanent wingman. The three men he was now closest to were all on his payroll.
Just months ago, Birdie had been shooting his reality show with Travis, Daryl, and Corey. Now Travis had his own management company. Daryl was on the West Coast at Interscope, and Corey was trying to manage a few up-and-coming producers.
Birdie let himself out the patio door off the kitchen and looked out at the collection of cars parked outside the garage near the pool. There was the Mercedes Maybach he got as a present from Jake after his album sold a million copies. Next to it was his Carrera, a present he bought himself after the sales hit five million. Each car, barely driven, gleamed and reflected the rays of the sun. Birdie squinted his eyes and looked out at all that his music career had afforded him. The house, the cars, the trips, the women. It was all nonstop and dizzying. It was impossible to believe that a few months ago he’d been sitting next to Alex on the living room sofa watching his first video on BET. Birdie heard laughter from the living room and he dipped back inside. Gerald held his phone up in the air and waved it in Birdie’s direction.
“Jake said he’s going to rerelease Fistful of Dollars at the end of the year,” Gerald said.
“So?” Birdie asked.
Gerald chuckled.
“So this means you’re probably going to get to diamond status. Ten million records sold.”
“Oh,” Birdie said.
“Oh? What do you mean oh. Do you know how rare it is to sell ten million albums. The Diamond Life club is a small one—especially in hip-hop.”
“OutKast, Biggie, Eminem, Tupac . . .” Birdie said.
“And now you get to add your name to that list. And all you have to say is oh.”
Birdie thought about the club he was joining. Biggie and Tupac were dead. Eminem was still dealing with addiction and recovery. And OutKast hadn’t recorded togeth
er in years. Was being in the Diamond Life really a blessing?
Birdie tried to smile, but it came out looking like he was in pain. Gerald shook his head and got on the phone while Birdie wandered back onto the patio.
“We got some girls coming over,” said Biz, poking his head out of the patio doors.
Birdie nodded without turning around. A few hours later, Birdie was getting a blow job in his basement from a thick brunette with a tattoo of lip prints on her neck. After twenty minutes, he was no closer to an orgasm than when she’d first started.
He finally pushed the girl away, pulled up his pants, and walked her back upstairs. The house was full of people, dancing, singing, drinking, and having a good time. Birdie’s was the only nonsmiling face.
When the last person left the house that night, Birdie locked up and climbed the stairs to his bedroom. In bed, he wondered what Alex was doing. Was she thinking about him? Did she ever? His mind raced through all of the possibilities until he fell asleep.
In the morning, Birdie shuffled into the kitchen scratching at his beard. As soon as the coffee stopped dripping, he poured a cup and went back into the family room. Birdie picked up the phone and pressed 1 on the speed dial.
“Hello?”
Birdie hesitated.
“Bird? Is that you?” Alex asked.
“Hey . . . I wanted to come by, just to say hello. Say Happy Fourth of July and stuff.”
“Happy what?”
“I just want to say hello, that’s it. I have a studio session in Brooklyn tonight so I’ll be in the area.”
Birdie could practically hear Alex turning this over and over in her head.
“I’ll be here,” she finally said.
Birdie slipped behind the wheel of his car and looked in the rearview mirror as he reversed out of the driveway. The fact that Alex would even agree to see him was encouraging. But he knew there were no guarantees.
Erika, the latest woman Birdie had been sleeping with, texted Birdie about his plans for the night. He didn’t respond and drove off the grounds of his property.
The ride to Brooklyn wasn’t long enough for Birdie to figure out what he would say to Alex to make her come back. He had tried to give up and let his new lifestyle take over. But he just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t let her just walk out of his life. Birdie drove down Atlantic Avenue toward the brownstone and watched a group of young kids playing freeze tag on the block. Miraculously, there was a spot right in front of the house. Birdie didn’t get out of his car. He leaned back against the headrest, watching the children, and thought about what he would say to Alex. That he’d changed? That he would never cheat again? That he was the same person he’d always been? The truth of the matter was he had changed. The flashing lights of fame had permanently blinded him and he didn’t know any other way to be. He had the numbers of at least a dozen models who would come over at a moment’s notice and leave before the sun came up. He slept until three in the afternoon and worked through the night, usually while drinking and smoking with his new crew. Everything was different. And Birdie wasn’t sure how to rein it in and make his life make sense again.
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