by Landis Lain
“Yuck!” said Sammie, with an elaborate shudder. “I just got a chill down my back. It’s a relief to be a virgin. I’m never having sex.”
“From your lips to God’s ears. Hold that thought until you get twenty-five,” said Mrs. Evans. They all laughed.
“He’s not a total villain, is he?” said Mrs. Evans, after she’d sobered.
“No,” said Brielle, looking down at her hands. “He said he loved me. And then he dumped me. And didn’t even tell me why he was dumping me. I had to find out from his sister. Now, he wants to get back with me, like nothing happened. But how do I know if it’s real?” She looked into Mrs. Evans eyes. Mrs. Evans looked back at her with compassion filled eyes.
“We all struggle with the answer to that question,” said Mrs. Evans. “It would be a whole lot easier if we could read minds. All I can say is pray about it and then talk to your mom. Take it slow. Follow your heart.”
“What does all that mean?” asked Brielle.
“That I can’t answer that question,” said Mrs. Evans, honestly. “And I’m floundering around because I don’t have all the answers for you.”
“It’s just so hard,” said Brielle. They all nodded.
June
Brielle and Damon
Brielle was cleaning out her locker. It was the first week in June and school was out next week.
“Hey,” said a deep voice from behind her. Brielle stood up to her full height and turned slowly to look Damon in the eyes. He stood staring at her as though he’d discovered something new and delightful.
“Hey,” she said softly.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
“How’s your hand?” she asked.
He wiggled his fingers. “It’s getting better.”
He shuffled from one foot to the other for a few seconds and dropped his eyes. Then he zeroed in on her so closely that Brielle took a step backwards.
“You are so beautiful,” said Damon, softly.
Brielle felt a little of the old thrill, but suppressed it and scoffed, “Yeah, right, Damon.”
“No, I mean it,” said Damon. “At first I looked at you and it was like okay, she’s nice looking. Every time I look at you, your beauty, it just glows more and more, um, incandescent. It’s like when you get thirty, I’ll only be able to look at you at night because in the day time your beauty is going to be blinding. I’ll have to wear sun glasses all the time.”
“Spit that game, boy,” said Brielle, spitefully. “Maybe someday, some stupid girl will believe it.” Damon dropped his head.
“I thought about what you said,” he mumbled.
“Okay,” she said. He shoved his hands into his pockets.
“You were right,” he said.
“About what?” she asked, not budging an inch. He heaved a big sigh.
“When you said that I was acting like it was all Sasha’s fault,” he said. “I been thinking about it for weeks and maybe the real baby’s father is a dog. And he let her down. So she chose me because I’d been there, too. She was looking for love and I didn’t love her. So I let her down, too.”
“Took you a month to come up with that, huh?” asked Brielle. The knot around her heart loosed a little bit.
“Naw,” he said. “Took me that long to get up the courage to approach you again. Plus, I talked to my dad about it. I just never thought about how girls must feel when they were hanging all over me. It was like they weren’t even people, just sexers, there for my convenience, whether I wanted them or not. I wanted to blame it all on Sasha because she approached me. She was just another sexer. But I could have said no.”
“Yeah, you could have,” said Brielle, tightly. “And Sasha was a girl who cared about you, not a sexer, or whatever you call it.”
“I should have said no,” said Damon. “Because of one stupid mistake, I missed the prom. I’m not having a graduation open house because my parents had to spend all that money for legal fees. I almost didn’t get to go away to college and I lost you.”
“You didn’t lose me,” said Brielle. “You blew me off.”
“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry. Let me finish this, okay?”
She nodded.
“Then one day, well yesterday, I realized I was shutting you out like I did to her because I didn’t want to deal with the complications; and I said, "No way!"
“What?” she asked.
“One day I’m going to have kids. And I want to love my baby’s mother. That is not going to happen if I lay down with just anybody. Sasha and her family are totally whacked.”
“Yeah, they’ve got issues,” said Brielle, although she had no idea if they did or not.
“I want my kids to have hope for a better future. I don’t have much hope for Ricky, as much as I still love that kid. His mother, she doesn’t have too many maternal instincts and her home life is awful. When you don't have hope, you do some stupid things with your life. I don’t want my future baby’s mother to be just another sexier. I just want to be the best father I can be for my children. Like my dad or Mr. Tally. And I decided that I want you to be the mother of my children.”
“Whoa. I’m only sixteen,” Brielle protested. “You’re only seventeen. And you didn’t even ask me how I felt about being your future baby mama.”
“I know that,” he said, reaching over to yank on her braid. She flinched away and he dropped his hand. His eyes darkened with misery but he was determined to finish his speech. “I don’t mean right now. Maybe in ten years.”
“You decided, huh?” she asked in a neutral tone of voice. “How you going to make decisions for my life?”
“Well, you’d have to agree to it, of course,” said Damon, in exasperation.
“Yeah, like I’ve had a lot of say in how this relationship went on” said Brielle, in derision. She looked so bitter for a moment that Damon plunged into the depths of depression. He felt like he was drowning, but he had to keep trying to make her understand. He couldn’t give up.
“I’m so sorry about that,” said Damon, fighting for his life. “But that was then, this is now.”
“What does that mean?” asked Brielle.
“Whatever you say it does,” he said, simply. The knot in her chest loosened a little more, but she said nothing. Hope destroyed was too hard.
“I’d like to start over,” he said. “Like all of this never happened.”
“It did happen,” said Brielle, folding her arms across her chest. She turned away and stared into her locker, as though there were some answers in that dark cavern. “And you really hurt me. But I learned that I’m okay without you.”
“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry. How many times should I say it?”
“I don’t know if I can trust you with my heart, again,” she said. “Would you, if you were me?”
“I think so,” said Damon, honestly.
“Right,” said Brielle, with a snort of derision. She deepened her voice to mock him. “I’ll never trust another female as long as I live? Does that ring a bell?”
“I was hurt,” he said, simply.
“So was I, Damon,” said Brielle, fiercely. She turned back towards him and looked into the distance over his shoulder. Meeting his eyes made her weak and easy to manipulate. “So was I.”
“I know I hurt you, Bri,” said Damon, starting to feel desperate. He touched her shoulder with his hand. She snatched away and he dropped his arm to his side. “You have to forgive me. I need you to.”
“It’s always about you?” asked Brielle.
“I didn’t think you’d understand,” said Damon.
“You didn’t give me the chance to understand,” said Brielle.
“What was I going to say?” demanded Damon. “I got a baby on the way, it’s Sasha’s and I still want to date you?”
“How about,” said Brielle, nostrils flaring. “I need to talk to you and tell you what happened. I need to tell you why my life is going out of control and I can’t see you right now?”
Brielle rolled her eyes. She started to turn away. Damon tried again.
“I thought you were too good for all the drama. I didn’t want anybody else to feel what I was feeling. I felt like I was the goldfish that jumped out of the bowl. I didn’t have time to catch my own breath, let alone think about how you were feeling.”
Brielle froze; expression arrested.
“Couldn’t catch your breath, huh?”
He looked down at his feet, clad in black and red Air Jordan’s.
“Nope,” he said, as though admitting to a shameful secret. His hands wanted to reach out and tug on one of her braids so bad that the palms itched but he controlled the impulse.
“Well,” said Brielle relaxing, expression brightening. “That clears things up. Not being able to breathe is serious for an asthmatic.”
“Life and death,” said Damon, meeting her eyes.
“Then maybe I forgive you.”
“Just like that?”
“Hasn’t it always been that way?” asked Brielle, with a shrug.
He reached for her. She held up her hand to stave him off.
“I forgive you, but I don’t want to put myself out there like that again for you.”
“If you give me a chance, I’ll never shut you out again.”
Brielle laughed without humor.
“Just like that? You are such a dude. You run away from stuff, Damon. How you gonna change how you deal with problems?”
“For you, I’d do anything,” he said. “Besides, I didn’t run away from Ricky. I stepped up and then he got snatched away.”
“That’s how I felt when you dumped me, too. But you didn’t care. It was all about you.”
“I know,” said Damon, looking away briefly. He hesitated, took a deep breath, exhaled and then met her eyes again. “I wouldn’t blame you if you never spoke to me again.”
Brielle snorted. “Then what are you doing here?”
“I wouldn’t blame you but I’d be crushed,” said Damon. “I can change.”
“I didn’t want you to be anybody but yourself,” said Brielle. “I just needed you to talk to me and tell me what was going on and not leave me hanging.”
“That’s why I want to start over,” said Damon. “Like it didn’t happen. Like we’ll pretend that Sasha and Ricky never existed.”
“Here we go. How you gonna do that?” asked Brielle, biting her lip, trying not to smile. For a deep thinker, Damon came up with some of the dumbest ideas. Brielle fisted her hands on her slim hips.
Damon met her eyes and squared his shoulders.
“Well, then, like it did happen, but I grew up and stopped acting like a punk about my part in it,” said Damon, relieved by her smile. “I’ll change and do better, I promise.”
“About time,” said Brielle. “Even though I don’t believe it.”
“So, will you?”
“What?”
“Let me back in?”
“I guess you won’t know until you try,” said Brielle.
Damon sagged with relief and reached out to tug on her braid. Brielle did not flinch away from him. He didn’t touch any other part of her, just caressed the braid for a long moment.
“You’re not a punk,” said Brielle, feeling weak and easy.
“I missed you,” he said. “Like I missed fresh air. I haven’t been able to breathe properly for months.”
Brielle felt herself melting and then she stiffened her spine.
“I’m still not having sex with you,” she said.
“That’s kind of a relief at the moment,” he said. “I’m a little messed up behind my last experience.” He looked away and then took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The tightness in his chest eased even more. They both stood stock still, waiting; a long awkward pause.
He stuck out his right hand.
“Hello,” he said, lips quirked in a half smile. “My name is Damon Hamilton. I’ve been watching you for a while and I’d like to know if you would go out and have a milkshake with me? We could get a burger, too, but I’m allergic to shellfish.”
“I heard you got into Howard University,” said Brielle. Damon nodded.
“I’m leaving for pre-college summer session next week,” said Damon. “I’ve already ordered my books and everything. I can’t wait to get started.”
“Congratulations!” said Brielle sincerely. “That is so awesome.”
“I’m gonna call you every night, okay?”
“You’re going to meet some college babe and forget all about me,” scoffed Brielle.
“I will never forget you,” said Damon.
“Let’s just go get a burger,” said Brielle. “And let the future take care of itself.”
If you liked Daddy’s Baby, pick up
Catfish by Nina Foxx
www.BrownGirlsBooks.com
Turn the page for a Sneak Peek…
One
Dana
My father was not slick. I tried not to twist my mouth as I listened to him attempting to convince me that what he talking about was a good thing. We have a pretty good relationship since he and my mother got divorced, but sometimes he was just transparent as hell.
“Dana, you’re gonna love this new church.” He looked at me all starry-eyed and he talked in that voice he used on me when he wanted something. He looked and sounded the same way my boy crazy best friend, Damika did every time she met a new hottie.
I groaned. “Church?” Since when had he found religion? Our time together was limited and we didn’t usually spend it in church. I wasn’t sure he’d even been inside one since before my mother divorced him, and even then, he’d only gone kicking and screaming.
He wanted me to say something. So, I did.
“And what’s your new girlfriend’s name?”
My dad’s mouth dropped open. That probably wasn’t what he was looking for. I might have been sixteen, but I wasn’t born yesterday. The only reason my father would be talking about new churches and religion was behind a woman. I shook my head. He was going to have to text me from hell.
I couldn’t blame him, really. My father was a hot commodity. He’s a single, good-looking black man with a good heart. He owned his own home and paid his child support like clockwork. Plus, he had it going on - for an older man. Even though he had a teenaged daughter, he was still attractive and dressed well. He might not be all swole with underwear model abs, but he was a catch. Back in the day, he was really into fitness and now that he was old, it paid off. He didn’t have a potbelly like other people’s fathers, so I was used to women chasing him. They’d done that before, even when he was married, and it had only gotten worse since.
A lot of kids get messed up when their parent’s spilt up, but me, I was okay with it. It was a relief actually, because when they were together, they’d fought all the time. My mother said they loved hard and they fought hard, too. The problem was, I remember the fighting more than anything. If there was love, I never saw it. A few times I’d have to keep myself from throwing up when I heard the noises in their bedroom, but even I knew that sex and love wasn't the same thing. Toward the end they would yell and scream way into the early hours of the morning.
“It’s okay. I’ll go if you need me to.” It almost hurt me to say that. I really didn’t feel like going to church, especially one all the way in Brooklyn, but it was easy to see how my words had made him happy. Unlike my mom, he was easy to please. His shoulders relaxed and the nervous look on his face was replaced by a smile.
“It’s not what you think. I actually used to go here with my mother when I was a kid,” he said.
I folded my arms across my chest and cocked my head to the side. “So, you’re saying that it’ll just be the two of us?” I knew the answer, but I couldn’t resist asking anyway. My father was just too easy sometimes. Clearly, I was the one running game here.
> Dad fidgeted a little; similar to the way I did when I was about to tell an un-truth. “No. A friend invited me.”
“Um-huh. I knew it. You can’t put anything over on me, Dad. I’ve only been your daughter for sixteen years.”
He laughed. “You’ll like her. You’ll see.”
That remained to be seen. Lots of kids had hot moms, but having a hot father was another matter. Women threw themselves at him all the time, all kinds of women. They would hear that “boom-chicka-wawa” when he came in and it was all over. My parents fought about that often, like his swagger was something he could control. My mother would get mad and say it was my father’s fault. Now that they were apart, the women threw themselves at him and me, like they had to win me over, too. And they were right, they did.
I had to admit that I was going to miss the last one. She’d been a buyer for Macy’s, and let me tell you, that had its benefits for me. I owed the hot Baby Phat outfit I had on right now to her. She'd hooked me up with clothes regularly, but of course, the gear stopped coming as soon as they'd broken up.
“Dad, what happened to Susan? I liked her.”
“Too high maintenance. Can you go upstairs and put on a dress? If we’re going to get there on time, we gotta get going.”
I was a little upset that we'd be spending what was left of our weekend with someone that was practically a stranger to me, but it was obvious that my father really wanted me to go. I could overlook my disappointment just this once.
We picked up my father’s new girlfriend just a few blocks from the church. I sat in the back so she could ride with my dad, and she was very polite. We’d been through a few girlfriends by now and I’d learned to watch and wait. If they made it past a few weeks, then maybe the two of us could be friends. Otherwise, there was no reason to get attached too early. One mistake, and poof, she could be gone, just like that.
If nothing else, this one was well-dressed, even if she was wearing one of those old lady knit suits. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and her makeup was flawless. She looked a little uptight, but was tall and Top Model thin. Her navy suit fit her like a glove, and she smelled good. Two points for the new woman. My dad was into smell. The funny thing was, this one seemed as high-maintenance as Susan had been. Another mom-ism echoed in my head. What was that she’d say? The things that attract you also make you crazy later? It was like my father was attracted to the same woman, over and over.
