by Derrick Jaxn
"You bought what? Wait. Rewind. He proposed or did you?"
"He did, but he didn't have a ring. Said something about not wanting that to stop us and that he could always get it later, but I wanted to tell my fam, and there's no way I could do it without something on my finger. So, I went and bought it. He said he'll pay me back though."
"Well, congrats, I'm happy for you." Honestly, I didn’t care. I was more relieved to have a reason behind her becoming distant. Her and her man were taking the next step; makes sense that he was getting more of her time and attention. I don't know how I feel about not being in the know exactly when this happened, but oh well. Good for her.
“If you want, we can double date,” she said sarcastically. She knew better than to seriously invite me on a double date. Those are for couples who want to prove to their friends that everything they’ve been gossiping about is all true. Besides, I didn't want Danielle to get any ideas by me taking her out with a soon-to-be-married couple. That was a set-up.
"Nah, I'll pass, but make sure I get an invite to the wedding. When is that happening anyway, next week?"
“Ha ha, very funny. We haven't set a date yet. I think he's moving at a fast pace because he's more mature than most guys. Sometimes you gotta follow your heart and he understands that. Anyway, text me or something, I gotta go.” She got in her car, checking her phone.
She probably thought nothing of it, but I felt like the advice she gave me was a sign. Follow your heart, she said. I don't know where it'll lead me, but it was worth a shot.
Things kept progressing between Danielle and me. Before class, I could always see her walking down the hall and how guys would try to get her attention. She’d either ignore or disrespect them without fail which always put a smile on my face. I couldn't blame them for trying; she was beautiful. But sometimes, I’d even go put my arm around her or some other public display of affection to rub it in. And when we got to the classroom, it didn't matter how many times I opened the door for her, she said thank you each and every time; unlike the other ungrateful ass females I opened the door for and they’d walk through without even making eye contact, as if it was owed to them. I wish I could trip them when they did that, but then I'd go to jail. Wasn't worth it.
But she appreciated the little things, especially when I told her about my childhood addiction to PB&J sandwiches and she decided to surprise me with two Ziploc bags, each with PB&J’s in them; one had wheat bread and the other had white since I wasn’t specific when I told her what I liked. That kind of stuff got to me. She was everything I never knew I always wanted.
Without a title, she was the only one I was seeing regularly and I completely neglected the friends-with-benefits chicks I had on my team. No regrets there. Hurting their feelings to keep the peace was a small price to pay. Besides, Danielle was teaching me how to do my own work so I didn't need them to help me out any more. Sex with girls you don't plan on having a future with is stressful. They're bound to want more; you're content on not giving it, and there's always that lingering 'Did the condom break?' afterthought.
I liked Danielle. A lot. My only concern was how scared of myself I was. What if I couldn’t be the man she deserved right now? What if I waited too long and some other guy came and swept her off her feet?
I didn't want to get caught up in the moment and rush into anything, but the good ones don't wait around forever. Everyone knows that. She was making me a better person just by letting me know her, the type of girl you bring home to your parents, and she was tugging at my heart. Since that's what I was following, I was going to have to make her mine.
I'm a simple man, not too much of a romantic. If I had it my way, I would just go up to her, tell her I was ready to be together, and let her either agree or disagree. But I knew better.
So I tried to get creative. Go to the lake like we always did, and then out of nowhere recite a few lines I saw on a Hallmark card a while back. Girls love Hallmark cards, and besides, it's the thought that counts. I actually thought that would be a good idea.
We pulled up to the lake that night, cut the lights off, turned the slow jams down a bit, and reclined the seats.
"It's so nice out tonight, don't you think?" she said. "Just look at the stars. Don't they look nice?"
"Momma always told me, 'Never look directly into the light. It'll hurt your eyes', and I don't want my eyes to hurt."
"Shawn, stop it. If they were that bright it wouldn't be night time."
"Some of 'em so bright they keep shining after they're gone. Now that's a real star. Like Tupac."
She laughed. "That's funny. Sometimes I wonder what else is going on in that crazy head of yours."
“Actually, Danielle, there is this one thing. I've been wanting to say it and I guess now is as good a time as any.”
“You don’t have to say it. I already know.”
"Hold up. What you mean you already know? How?”
“I saw you watching Think Like A Man. Don’t worry, I don’t have a 90-day rule. When the time is right, we’ll know.”
For a minute I thought she read my mind, but she was way off. I wasn't even thinking about sex. For once. Maybe I was changing after all. The old me had a 91-day rule anyway, and that was for girls who made me wait 90 days, I would be gone on the 91st. But even if she did have one, I would've stuck around. Maybe.
“Oh no, that’s not it,” I said, laughing. “No, what I’m tryna say is-“ my phone rang "Uh..hold up real quick." I peeked at my phone and saw it was Jazmin. We had always texted, but now her ass wanted to chat.
It was going to have to wait. I tried to silence it without Danielle seeing the caller name on the screen.
“Hope it wasn’t important.”
I shifted in my seat. “Oh nah, just my homie. He probably ain’t want nothin',” implicitly lying my ass off.
“But back to what I was saying. I….”My mind went blank. “Um.. Um. You see, I think, I mean I know. Well, I feel like..." I couldn't remember how that Hallmark card went to save my life.
"Danielle...I love you,” I said. Straight to the point, unromantic as hell. I just came out with it.
She looked pleasantly stunned which turned quickly to suspicion. “Shawn, do you know what you’re saying? If this is some kind of sick joke, it’s not funny.”
“No, it’s not a joke, and yes, I do know what I’m saying. More importantly, I know what I’m feeling. I’m in love with you. It’s not enough to just kinda have you anymore. I want all of you and I want to give you all of me. If you’ll have me, I want you to be my girlfriend.” My heart was beating faster than Usain Bolt on crack. Every second she took to make some kind of reaction seemed like an hour. So of course, she sat there and let it all soak in before she finally spoke.
“Wow. I didn't see that coming. Well, I love you too. I knew you were unsure about whether or not you could do the relationship thing so I wasn’t going to pressure you. And-"
"But you didn't pressure me."
"Shawn, can I speak please?" I caught myself and waited for her to talk again.
"Like I was saying, I just didn’t know if you felt ready for the responsibility of my heart. But I believe in you. You’re a great guy and I don’t think you even realize it. So yes, I’d love to be your girl.”
I tried to hold back my smile, and failed. She believed in me. That's music to any man's ears. So there it was. I was officially off the market. I was taken.
Chapter 6
The Calm Before the Storm
I made the transition into being a boyfriend better than I thought I would. There were girls I saw everyday that I'd previously flirted with, and now I acted like I'd never met them. They caught attitudes about it, but a sacrifice had to be made, and I was happy to make it. Had to block a few of them on Facebook because spiteful females can get creative with old pic messages and text message screenshots. Things nobody could really explain.
Meanwhile, Danielle and I were damn near joined at the hip, ankle, and shoulder
everywhere we went. You know the couple you see walking in the mall with their hands in each other's back pocket, and their steps are synchronized? Yeah, that was us. You could've sprayed us with a water hose and it still wouldn't have rained on our parade.
She was my beautiful best friend.
Things were lovely, but the summer break was already approaching. Three months in, she was going back to her hometown in Denver, Colorado, and I was staying in Alabama. Bitter-sweet because I wasn't ready to leave her, but it was due time to see my family too.
I hadn’t made any plans for my summer outside of staying in shape to come back ready for the football season. Wasn't too hopeful on finding a job since employers weren't looking for overqualified seasonal workers with a high school diploma. I was cool with that because being overworked and underappreciated leads to stress. Stress leads to cancer. Nobody wants cancer.
Momma and Mr. Macklin were still going strong and had been enjoying having the house to themselves. I could tell by how half-heartedly they welcomed me back. I saw them peeking out the window when I pulled up in the driveway, both of them, just watching in despondency. But they at least had the decency to put on a smile and pretend they were happy. The effort was there and I appreciated it.
The house was lonely compared to my days in high school. All of my stuff had been cleaned out of my old room and Alvin's old room was the new storage. He dropped out of college after his first semester and went to live with his girlfriend, so while the parent's were at work, it was just me by my lonesome.
That turned out to be a good thing because it got awkward when Mr. Macklin came around. He was skeptical about everything, particularly a college he was successful without.
One day he came home from work and saw me in the kitchen. I was putting up the dishes and he sat there staring at me. I stared back until he got his thoughts together.
Then he said, “Oh, so you a college boy now. You know everythang, huh? Well, tell me this. How come they don’t put real lemons in lemonade, but they put real lemons in lemon-fresh Pine Sol?”
He had a million of these you’re not so smart after all comments in his back pocket. Probably derivative of his disappointment in his own jr.
“The same reason that real lemons are in Pine Sol, but if you drink it, you’ll die. Lemons aren’t good for you,” I said, walking off like a boss.
I made no more sense than did his trivial ass question and purposely so.
After getting used to having my freedom, I was ill-adjusting to having a curfew. Momma was irritable seemingly every day, and going in and out of the house late at night was like asking her to remind me who paid the bills.
About halfway through the break, I was ready to go back. I was horny and hungry 24/7 since Danielle wasn't there, and Momma refused to cook. My old friends from high school were either out of town or already suffering from the real world. The ones that never left had started families, worked multiple 9-5's, and some had gotten caught up in the system.
The tension in the house had gotten thick. Momma and Mr. Macklin were hardly talking and a few times I even noticed him sleeping on the couch.
I tried to find little odd jobs to keep me busy and pretend I didn't notice what was happening but I know they knew. They would take it out on me with pointless arguments about things not being picked up around the house, so I started leaving in the mornings and coming back around curfew.
The summer was coming to an end, and so was I on my rope. I just had to get my expenses straightened out before pre-registration started so I could go back to camp in a few weeks.
My books were the only things not covered by my athletic scholarship, and I needed them to even get into class. I had made a little money, but it was only enough for extracurricular activities. That was the agreement I had since I started working at 15. I made enough to buy what I wanted and Momma would provide the things I needed so long as I stayed out of trouble. But Momma was no longer the breadwinner. Mr. Macklin was.
I hated asking for things and especially from Mr. Macklin because I could count on him giving a smart ass response, but I didn’t have a choice. I was going to have to swallow my pride.
It was July 17th, only three days before my birthday, so I thought maybe this'd make the gift choosing a little easier anyway.
He came home from work and I heard him go straight to his room as usual. I went and knocked on his door.
“Who is it?” he said.
“It’s me.”
“Come in.”
I guess that was his way of showing me he wore the big pants. He knew good and well it was me, but authority over even the small things made him feel more in charge.
“Hey Mr. Macklin, can I ask you something?"
"Ya just did. So yeah, now is that all?"
"No, not that question. I got another question."
“If it’s 'bout money, I ain’t got it.”
“No, it’s about school...books. I need money to get them.”
“How come you can’t pay for ‘em?”
“Well, I didn’t make that much this summer, and what I did make, I already spent.”
“A man’s 'posed to make the money he need to get what he need. You a man now, that’s yo responsibility. Find a way to get the money.”
“If I’m such a man then why you claiming me on your taxes?” I never took this tone with him before, but I couldn’t believe he pulled the whole man card on me for asking for a necessary school expense. School that he bragged about to his church family but didn't have to pay a dime for tuition out-of-pocket. This was the least he could do.
He shifted and said, “Boy, you watch yo tone. You still in my house."
He was right. Whether he was my real dad or if I agreed with him or not, he provided the roof and any rules up under it had to be respected.
“All right then, my bad.”
"You can't come in here just demanding stuff 'cuz you needs it."
"I know that's my bad. I shouldn't have said that."
"I didn't have nothin' growin up. Not no car. Not no college. Nothin'. I got out here and worked for everythang with my bare hands."
"I got it, Mr. Macklin. I said that was my bad. I'm sorry. My bad for asking you for help even though I really do need it," I said, turning and walking out.
I hated hearing no, especially from a man. It just felt like a slap in the face for some reason.
Either way, I wasn't stressing. I knew enough people that I could borrow books from to get me through the first part of the semester.
Mr. Macklin was a pretty cool dude until he got into one of his moods. He must have been in one of them that day because when Momma got home, they started fussing. I guess that's what happens when you get in a marriage at such a mature age. You're stuck in your ways so arguments become the protocol to remain stuck in them.
It was late. Instead of eavesdropping, I opted for some much-needed rest. The more sleep, the faster the days went by.
A couple of hours later, I was awakened by some thumping noises and yelling. I took a glance at the alarm clock and saw it was 3:15 a.m. Nothing should've been more important than sleep at that hour.
“I’m tired of this shit! You and him both can get the hell out my house!” I heard coming from across the hallway.
My door flung open. Mr. Macklin was sweating and had an evil look in his eye. This wasn’t the country, soul music-loving man I had come to know.
“You wanna be a man, then be a man and help yo Momma get her shit packed,” he said before he walked back into his room.
I lit up with anger. What in the hell got into him? He had to be drunk or something. I could have put my hands on him but I was more concerned about Momma. I had to make sure she was okay because if she wasn't, I wouldn't leave a single wall standing in that house.
My mind was alert but my body was still waking up. Trying not to stumble I slipped on a shirt and gym shoes and rushed out into the living room to find Momma on the floor crying.
“Mo
mma, you all right? Did he hit you?”
She shook her head no, still crying. I felt relieved, but we still needed to get our things together and get out. No way were we about to stay where we weren't welcomed.
Mr. Macklin came back in the living room with his arms full of Momma’s clothes.
“The hell y'all waitin’ on? I said get out!” he yelled, tossing her things on the ground.
I had enough of his shit. “Man, what’s your problem?!”
He looked at me, still breathing heavy. “You. You my problem. You come ‘round here like you better than err’body then got the nerve to ask me for somethin’? Cuz you in college now, you ‘posed to be somebody? Well, you ain’t. You ain’t nobody and you ain’t gon' be nobody. AND you gon' get the hell out my house and take ya momma witcha.”
“You know what bruh, fuck you. We ain’t gotta take this.”
“Baby, just…just go.” I turned around and saw Momma looking at me.
“Wait....what?”
“Just go. You need to get out of here.” she said again.
I had never been shot before, but if I had to guess what it felt like, it was about half as painful as what I felt then.
“Momma no. You don’t know what you saying. I’mma help you get your stuff and we can just-“
“No son. You need to go. The longer you stay the worse this is going to get.”
I looked at Mr. Macklin, then back at Momma. Mr. Macklin walked back into his room. Momma looked down at the floor, avoiding eye contact.
I backed up a few steps and stood paralyzed from the neck up. I couldn’t blink; I couldn’t breathe; I could only hear my heart beating.
Mr. Macklin was one thing, but there’s no way she was choosing him over me. I wasn’t completely sure of what was going on, but I needed to act then and finish thinking later. I went to the room, grabbed my duffle bag, and crammed what I could into it. Walked out into the living room and saw Mr. Macklin and Momma sitting on the couch.
“One day, you gon' look back and realize I was right about you.” he said as I opened the door. I pretended to not hear him and kept walking but those words all but missed my ears.
