“Start my own shit? That’s never been in the plans. I mean, that’s a lot of work. Not to mention the capital I’d need to make it look legit,” I replied, the hypothetical to-do list already giving me anxiety.
Still, Gina saw things much simpler, leaning in to ask, “Bella, haven’t I taught you anything? Lick, suck, swallow, repeat.”
There was no use in holding back my laugh at her four-word tutorial, though it was clear she was dead ass serious when she didn’t join in with me. And once my laughs simmered, I did my best to make it plain, telling her, “I regret to inform you, but head is not the answer to everything, Gina.”
“Well head got you fired, so it must hold some type of weight in this world,” she fired back, sucking the air out of the room - and my lungs - as I was hit with the reality of my situation all over again.
My mood instantly dropped back into the somber haze I had been in since leaving Princeton’s gym and Gina was quick to pick up on it, hopping from her couch to mine and wrapping an arm around my shoulder to apologize. “I’m sorry. Too soon?”
“Way too soon,” I replied, peeling from her hold to grab the bottle of wine and opting to sip straight from it instead of pouring more into the glass.
Gina was quiet as she watched me take bigger gulps than necessary, not even bothered by the little bit that slipped from the side of my mouth onto my white shirt - just another thing to add to my streak of bad luck. But once I put the bottle down, she got back into business mode when she said, “Seriously though, Bella. What’s your next move? I mean, you’re way too talented and your voice is way too important for you not to be writing for somebody. Or at least writing for yourself.”
The buzz of the wine had settled in enough to have me spewing random ideas. “Maybe I’ll just put an ad up on Craigslist. Or maybe I can be a substitute English teacher, do some freelancing until I can find something permanent.”
Gina sat up a little straighter as she agreed, “Freelancing is a good plan! But I hope your savings account is sittin’ right because publications love taking their time with those freelance checks.”
Since my savings account was nowhere near “sittin’ right”, I fell back quiet, still in disbelief that I had gotten myself into this mess in the first place. But Gina didn’t let things remain quiet for long, snapping her fingers when she squealed, “Ooh! What about that interview you did with “The Prince”? Have you thought about shopping that around?”
Just the mention of his name made me feel warm and fuzzy all over again.
Or maybe it was just the wine.
Either way, Gina had given me a lot to think about since an exclusive with Princeton was definitely a moneymaker, his elite status as a championship-caliber athlete combined with his good looks making the variety of options both online and in print look greater than ever. But I also had my reservations since I had already told him it wouldn’t see the light of day, not to mention how heavy things had gotten.
“I don’t know, Gina. I mean, it’s such an intimate piece. So… personal,” I insisted, my mind drifting even more so to the things I hadn’t included than the things I had. It was the same information Princeton had confirmed in order to help me loosen up in the gym while simultaneously breaking my heart as I thought about how troubled his childhood must’ve been.
Since Gina didn’t know any of that, she immediately brushed me off when she replied, “Girl, you say that like you weren’t going to waste all of that intimate shit on Fullest Disclosure when it really belongs on a much bigger platform.”
“Maybe you’re right. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to ask,” I said, digging around to find my phone.
But Gina halted my digging with a hand against my arm so she could suggest, “Head first. Then you ask.”
Instead of replying to her ridiculous advice, I only rolled my eyes, pulling my phone from the side of the couch it had slipped into and deciding on a text while I had the courage to do it. A text that took forever and a day for me to type out and send thanks to my slightly tipsy state.
“Hey Princeton. I was wondering if you’d mind me shopping around that interview we did to a few blogs and publications.” - Bella
I glanced over the message for typos as if it wasn’t already sent while waiting for a response. And when one didn’t come within the five-minute window I expected it to, I followed up with another text that seemed to take me even longer to type out.
“It’s okay to say no. My feelings won’t be hurt. I’m just trying to stay on top of my bills and this would really help.” - Bella
“Jesus, now I probably sound like a charity case,” I thought to myself as I stared at my phone, trying to think of what he could possibly be doing right now to not be able to text me back in an instant.
“Maybe he’s with those two women,” was the first thing that came to mind, the visual making me sick all over again until I saw the three little bubbles meaning he was in the process of replying.
Thank God.
My heart skipped a beat the second his response popped up on the screen. And even though Gina was already over my shoulder trying to see what it said, I decided to read the message out loud.
“Just send it on over to me and I got you, B.” - Prince
A million questions ran through my mind as I tried to process what that even meant.
Why does he want it first?
How is it possible for him to “have me” with something like this?
What will he think about the write-up?
Of course none of that mattered to Gina as she pushed me in the shoulder and shouted, “See, Bella! I told you. Closed mouths don’t get fed. Open ones do.”
While I knew she had a point since things were somehow looking up, I still couldn’t help but ask, “Is that another one of your head references, or...?”
“Come on now, Bella. Keep up.”
&
My head resembled a winery, though it wasn’t the classy wine-tasting in the vineyard with your homegirls’ version. No, it felt like there were literally bare-footed people stomping grapes against my temples as I made an attempt at dodging the sun that was beaming through my window when I rolled over and covered my face with a pillow, regretting every sip of wine I had drank with Gina the night before.
Well… every sip of wine I had drank for Gina the night before.
I wasn’t sure what time it was, and it only made me feel worse when I realized it didn’t matter since I didn’t exactly have anywhere to be. But even without a job nor a morning destination, that didn’t stop my phone from buzzing incessantly against the nightstand, making its way to the edge before I reached over just in time to catch it from falling on the ground.
Shit. Moved too fast.
The room seemed to be spinning when I groaned, “Hello?”
It wasn’t until I heard his voice that I realized who the call was even from, and I was a little jealous of his chipper tone as he said, “Good morning, sleepyhead. Did you get my text?”
“What text?” I asked, my eyes scrunched against the sun I had tried to avoid as I sat up in the bed so that I could gain my bearings.
“Go check it out, B. It’s good news,” he replied without giving much away. And since it didn’t seem as if he planned on giving anymore, I followed his directions, putting the call on speaker so that I could scroll through my phone and see what he was talking about.
The message I found wasn’t exactly a text for me, but a screenshot of his texts between him and… someone who loved my work?
Someone who wanted to use the interview for their cover story?
And they were willing to pay me how much?
“Princeton, what is…?” I asked, thinking maybe I was only imagining what I was reading as some dreamlike, best case scenario.
I was just about ready to pinch myself awake when Princeton confirmed it wasn’t a dream at all by adding, “The cover shoot will be as soon as next week if you accept their offer.”
The mention of an “if” made me chuckle si
nce it wasn’t even a question that I was going to accept, not to mention I didn’t have much of a choice if I expected to be able to pay rent this month. But I was also caught up on the fact that Princeton had went out of his way to pull some strings for me seemingly overnight, making me want to jump through the phone and kiss him all over again.
“So what’s up? What you thinkin’, love?” he asked, reminding me I hadn’t exactly given him any answer.
My lip was pulled between my teeth as I grinned while skimming the messages one more time before replying, “Mama didn’t raise a fool, so I need to see this in writing. But this number is looking quite generous.”
“What I tell you, B? I got you. Can’t have you out here taking unnecessary pay cuts,” he replied, the fact that he had not only looked out for me, but made sure I was taken care of monetarily warming me up even more.
Even though it hurt to smile - to move, period -, I couldn’t hold it in when I replied, “And I very much appreciate that.”
“Now the question is, do you have me back?”
“I should’ve known there was a catch…” I muttered more to myself than him, shaking my head as I braced myself for some bullshit.
Of course Princeton played it down, quick to assure, “Nah, it’s nothing like that. Well I don’t think it’s anything like that, but…”
“Just spit it out, Princeton. What do you want? Some head or somethin’?” I asked, already rolling my eyes as I thought about Gina’s advice manifesting itself one way or another.
But not only was I wrong, I was embarrassed as hell once I heard him answer, “Damn. Wasn’t even thinkin’ like that. But if that’s part of the bargaining agreement, I’m not opposed.”
“I’m sorry. Last night got a little weird. But what were you saying?” I asked, hoping he’d let it blow over as nothing.
He didn’t, instead barking out a laugh. “Nah, nah. I’m tryna talk about what you’re talking about now, B. I like your idea much better than mine.”
“Princeton…” I whined, the back and forth with a side of embarrassment making the dull headache from my hangover return with even greater strength.
And I suppose it was my obvious pain and agony that encouraged him to let me off the hook, getting to his original request as he said, “Aight, aight, fine. I was gonna ask if you could come to this thing with me. For my foundation.”
“You have a foundation?” I asked, sitting up a little straighter at what was honestly a pleasant surprise.
Though Princeton made it seem as if it shouldn’t have been a surprise at all when he fired back, “Don’t all athletes?”
I shrugged as if he could see me. “I guess. I don’t know. I don’t really follow you guys like that.”
This time his laugh was more sarcastic when he sighed, “Damn. Thanks for the ego stroke, Bella.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I just… that’s really, really cool. What does it support?” I asked, always curious to learn more about what Princeton did outside of the career he was obsessively committed to.
And I couldn’t help but be impressed as I listened to him explain, “Mainly inner-city schools. We’ve done little things before, had my sponsors donate everything from new uniforms and sports equipment to the latest classroom technology. But this year, we’re hooking up five hundred kids with their very own backpack full of supplies for the new school year.”
The painful smile was back when I gushed, “That’s amazing, Princeton. I’d love to help out.”
“Well it’s this Saturday at the gym. And feel free to bring an extra set of hands. We’ll need all the help we can get,” he replied, my mind first going to Gina who would be ecstatic about being around “The Prince” even if it was for some community service. But the second place my mind went to was thoughts of him. And before I could contain it, the question slipped from my lips.
“Is your dad going to be there?”
It really didn’t make any sense for him not to be there, not to be a part of a moment like this at the place he owned. Still, while my mind was already on facing him again, I could hear the confusion in Princeton’s tone when he asked, “My dad? What does he have to do with anything?”
I didn’t want it to sound too alarming nor did I want Princeton to be under the impression that I couldn’t hold my own. So I did my best to choose my words carefully. “He uh... he just wasn’t very happy to see me in the gym when I came to interview you.”
“Wait… you talked to my dad that day? Bella, why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his confused tone turning much harsher as he waited for an answer.
But the truth was, “There really wasn’t anything to say, Princeton! I mean, he made things crystal clear. Your input wasn’t exactly required at that point.”
Somehow, I could feel the disappointment in his heavy sigh along with the elongated silence that I was just getting ready to fill-in with another apology until he finally replied, “Well to answer your question, he won’t be there. He’s not really into this part of the game. Only into the training.”
“Thank God,” I thought to myself before teasing, “You mean, only into torturing you?”
The little laugh he let out put me at ease as he agreed, “You could say that too.”
Since there was another bout of silence, I made sure to fill it with gratitude. “Thank you for finding me some work, Princeton. Seriously. You didn’t have to do that, and this is… it’s an opportunity of a lifetime.”
I honestly couldn’t have fell into a situation more perfect than this one. I mean, a paycheck for something I was already done with plus the potential of more work with this particular publication since they were so impressed with my writing style?
Princeton really might’ve gotten that head if he wanted it. But he mostly stuck to his original request instead when he replied, “Well you can thank me by showing your pretty ass up to the back to school drive in one of those dresses you wear so well. Or maybe even those jeans that make your booty look bigger than it actually is.”
“Oh my… shut up!” I squealed, my hand rushing to my temple to soothe some of the throbbing that came with my laughter.
But the pain seemed worth it once I got another one of Princeton’s full laughs as he said, “You know I’m just messin’ with you, B. I don’t care if you wear a damn family reunion shirt and a pair of beat-up Air Force Ones. I just want you in the building. So will you come?”
While paying back a favor was high on the priority list, somehow supporting Princeton in his endeavors felt just as if not more important. And even if I didn’t have much of a choice, I was still proud to tell him, “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Princeton
There were only a few stragglers left playing around on the punching bags, but I felt confident in calling the event a success as I watched my team of volunteers - Bella included - break down the now-empty boxes along with the tables we had used for what I hoped would be the first of many back to school events. My cheeks were aching from smiling for selfies and Snapchat videos all day and the tightness in my back was showing my age after having to bend over to talk to all of the kids. But there was no better feeling than giving back to the community that had supported me from day one, sometimes more than those closest to me.
Before I could spiral down the hole of those dark thoughts, I felt Tony sidle up next to me with perfect timing, crossing his arms over his chest to catch the same view that I was. Truth be told, it seemed as if he was always there to stop me from going down that path. Because while I could easily start a list of people who hadn’t always been there for me emotionally, Tony was the first on the list of people who had. He was always there to help me bounce back from one of my father’s beat downs, always there to give me the encouragement I needed to push through on the days when I really wanted to quit. And now he had been there to support me during an event that meant more than he knew while the guy he considered a brother hadn’t bothered to even show his face.
Still, instead of focusing on who wasn’t there, I focused on who was as he said, “Yo, P. I’m really proud of you. This event was real nice. And these kids, man. They were so happy.”
I wrapped my arm around his shoulder to tell him, “Appreciate that, Tony. Glad you and Denise could help out.”
He gave me a short nod just as Denise was slipping in front of us carrying another sign of my age in her hands. “Let’s not forget about this.”
While I was a little peeved by her putting me on the spot, the glow from the candles along with the effort she had obviously put into making me a homemade birthday cake didn’t allow for me to have a real attitude. But just before I could express my gratitude, Bella and her friend joined us, the friend taking notice first to ask, “Whose birthday is it?”
Bella was already busy reading the handwritten message on top, her eyes shooting my way once she realized, “Princeton, it’s your birthday? Why didn’t you say anything?!”
“I didn’t know it was something I was supposed to announce,” I answered with a shrug, catching a mean side eye from Denise who didn’t appreciate my sarcasm.
“Well how are you celebrating?” she followed up with, a question I hadn’t even thought about since I was a child.
According to my father, birthdays weren’t really anything special. Just another day to train and get better since an extra year meant you were only another year closer to the end of your career, whether that meant retiring in your prime or falling from grace after trying to extend it beyond that point - like him.
Just the thought had me quick to make a wish and blow out the candles so that I could answer, “Like this.”
But once I opened my eyes, it felt like everyone else’s were on me, though Bella’s friend was the only one bold enough to speak. “Prince… now I know I’m just meeting you, but you can do a lot better than spending your birthday around a bunch of snotty-nosed children playing Summer’s Santa. We should go out. I have a connects just about everywhere around here. We can get us a nice section in VIP and all that.”
Her enthusiasm made me laugh, though it didn’t exactly convince me to change my nonexistent plans. Still, I was sure to let her down easy when I said, “I appreciate the offer, Gina. But I’d rather just chill out at home with my pup.”
In His Corner Page 6
