A Cheating Man's Heart 2

by Derrick Jaxn

  That was something I didn't do much of when I was with Danielle. She'd get jealous of the attention I was giving my notes, prance around naked, close my binder then say a sarcastic "oops" at the end. But when I woke up the next day, whatever I was reading had highlighter notes in it because she refused to let me fail.

  I loved that about her. How she'd never let me get too far off track. That's when you know you have yourself a winner. I'd bet my next paycheck that a "We can have fun but we will not lose focus" type of woman is in every successful man's life.

  I did my round of modern-day studying--Google. But it was too much for one night. I got the basics down then split the rest off for the next morning so as not to prolong my sleep struggle any longer.

  After double checking my alarm, my screensaver returned to the face of it. It was a picture of Danielle and me. She was sleeping, and I was smiling. Aside from me looking like a complete creep who'd just chloroformed her, it was really romantic.

  For the past few weeks, I'd been mentally taking swims into that water under the bridge we called our good times. Never deleted our pictures, never changed her caller ID from what it had always been, Baby.

  Before I dozed off, I put a few possibilities on how I could cup that water in my hands for another sip in the far corner of my brain and locked it. Promised myself that if one of those ideas broke free by sun-up, I'd give it a shot.

  Chapter 4

  Why Didn't You Say That in the First Place?

  I rolled out of bed the next morning, and before I brushed my teeth, I checked my phone. A habit we're all guilty of that needs to end.

  I must not have locked that box of possibilities of seeing Danielle again too securely because one of them made its way out and strutted around my mind the entire morning. Teasing me. I don't know if it was the restlessness or if I was just eager to walk face-first into her impenetrable guard, but I was ready to give it a try.

  I went into the building her class was held in, inconspicuously finding something to read in my phone as people passed by. Professors never really let class out when they were supposed to so I set a twenty-minute window that I'd wait. If that didn't work, then that possibility of seeing Danielle was going back into its lock box where it belonged.

  But the door flung open and out came the slackers who'd been asleep all session, finding life in their pursuit of another time-wasting endeavor. Due to my height, I could see over the crowd they made and noticed Danielle's natural poof a few students back.

  But instead of walking by her as she came out of class as usual, I stepped in front of her, interrupting the people walking out behind her too.

  "Hey, what's up Danielle? How are you?" I asked, smiling and waiting for her confused expression which soon came.

  "I'm fine. What are you doing?"

  "I'm speaking."

  "Okay...you spoke," she said, uninterested and trying to move past me.

  I side stepped in front of her again, mindful of how this might appear stalker-ish to the untrained eye. But there was a method to the madness and I had come too far to stop at close.

  "Can I at least get a hug?" I said, stretching my arms out and beckoning her to come to me with my hands. I looked more like an over sized toddler hoping to get picked up by his mommy, but it worked.

  She rolled her eyes and gave me a completely platonic hug. Despite that, every nuance about her from the texture of her skin to the smell of her clothing made me ache with hopefulness.

  I moved out of her way to let her walk by, trying to hide the excitement of my breakthrough. She didn't run away and she didn't call the cops...yet. So it was a breakthrough to me.

  My joyride on cloud nine came to a halt just an hour later at the sight of one person.

  Lewis.

  He was leaning against the side of the biology building with a few of his basketball player teammates, throwing bait out to the sea of women walking by, hoping for a bite.

  I knew it was him because his car was parked inconveniently in the middle of the road to make sure nobody missed his paint job and rims that his parents bought him for Christmas.

  I'd been meaning to settle a score with this brother for the longest.

  My heartbeat sped up and the hairs on my neck stood to attention. I was still in damned good physical shape, and even if I wasn't, it wouldn't have mattered. My adrenaline was flowing like water from a new faucet. Just walking away would've been the right thing to do, but being right is overrated. Everyone knows that.

  I hadn't shaken the guilt of not being there to stop him from beating on Jazmin. How she couldn't run fast enough, scream loud enough, or beg hard enough to keep him away. How he never had to answer for his actions; he just went on with his life as if it didn't matter how much he'd hurt people. He needed to know what that pain felt like.

  I kept walking to my car so I could drop off my phone. I didn't want it to break if we went to the ground which would probably happen once his friends jumped in.

  That didn't bother me though. My adrenaline-heightened hands felt like I'd just grabbed hold of a live car battery. Tremorous, and every vein running through them fully charged begging for me to turn them loose.

  I closed my car door and started walking towards him, not sure if he even recognized me.

  People were everywhere, some walking and talking, others posted up waiting for their next class.

  I wasn't sure if cameras, professors, or any campus security were close. I just needed to cross the street and purge this energy and ill will that was increasingly overwhelming me the closer I got to him.

  His two friends saw me and stopped talking to stare. They were both about my height, but frail in comparison. I think my clenched fists gave me away that I wasn't coming for a friendly chit-chat.

  Clothing around this time of year for females was either tight, scarce, or both. This meant hormones and street harassment were out of control, which meant Lewis was in his natural habitat.

  He cat-called to a freshman girl walking by. "Gah-dayumn, shawty. What dat mouth do doe!" reaching for a dap to his friends for them to join in, the kind of thing that gave all brothers a sordid name. Then their focus directed to me, which stopped him mid-laugh.

  He squinted, trying to see if he could recognize me, then looked back at his boys as if to ask if they knew me. They shrugged, leaving Lewis to turn around to me again, but a little too late for an introduction.

  I snatched the neck of his shirt with my left hand, and thrust my right one towards his nose with every ounce of strength I had.

  It landed.

  The force made him slip from my hand and hit the ground.

  At that moment, I heard someone yell out, "Woooorld Staaaaar!" before students milled around us from the building and the surrounding dorm lawns.

  I pounced on top of him, swinging a few more times before realizing he wasn't fighting back. I thought maybe I had seriously hurt him, which sobered me out of my anger, but only briefly.

  "Who are you?! Get off me! Let me go, man!" he screamed. His voice was feminine. "Ay man, y'all just gon' sit there?!" he yelled, looking up at his boys.

  I looked at him, still breathing heavily with a lot of energy left to spare, then up at his friends who were recording the whole thing on their phones. The crowd around us had followed suit, all making sure they got HD footage of the scene.

  I looked back down, and since he was healthy enough to talk, I put my hands around his throat.

  So much hatred was permeating through my finger tips enclosed around his neck.

  I squeezed harder.

  He really had no idea all the destruction he'd caused. All the pain. How his actions nearly led to me losing my life, but more importantly the physical and emotional scars of my friend, the only friend I'd had till that point.

  Yet he had the nerve to be begging for help.

  I glared at him, his face turning a deep dark red now, then for a split second, Jazmin's face flashed across my eyes. I could see the terror she'd had the
night he beat her as she ran to get away but couldn't. Her face stared at me with the same fright that was now in his eyes too.

  I let go.

  He gasped for air.

  I put my finger on his forehead and got closer to his face so what I was about to say would reach his ears only.

  "Listen and listen close. Stay away from me and my friends, or next time--"

  "Yo friends? Man, I don't know you or yo friends."

  "Jazmin. That ring a bell?"

  He looked back and fixed his mouth to answer before I cut him off.

  "Shut the fuck up!" I yelled, raising my fist to hit him again. "Her and Danielle. They don't know," I said, looking around at the spectators, "but I know. I know exactly what you did."

  I stood up from him, contemplating kicking him, but opted out. He didn't have the guts to fight back. Typical behavior of a coward who'd put his hands on a woman.

  I walked back to my car, cognizant of my surroundings in case campus security had gotten called and I needed to keep it cool. But even with all the people who had their phones out, no one called the authorities.

  I started the engine, trying to figure out what in the hell had just happened. It was out of my character to act like that. Even in my days on the football field, I could always keep my cool but at that moment, I just...snapped. Momma told me my dad had a temper like that.

  My phone's alarm went off, letting me know I had 10 minutes till time to meet up with Ronnie at his apartment.

  My clothes smelled like outside and I was still sweaty from the altercation. I grabbed a can of air freshener from the back seat and sprayed a mist into the air to fall down on me and my clothes. It was a quick fix, but it helped.

  I pulled up at his apartment with about seven minutes left to spare. Trying to remember what door he told me he was in, I grabbed my phone, remembering that I had saved it in there somewhere.

  Found it.

  Walked up to the third floor and followed the voices. Knocked on the door and someone opened it right away. I didn't know them. They didn't know me either and welcomed me in anyway.

  "Hey, what's up bruh?" Ronnie said from across the living room, this time a lot more spirited than before.

  He looked at the girl closest to him and handed her his red cup, then he got up and walked past me, not saying anything, to a room in the back. I assumed that it meant to follow him so I did.

  "You're late." he said, with his nasally congested tone as he closed the door. He had a real teenage fast food shift leader 'you missed a spot' air to him. It was starting to bug me, but I didn't let it show.

  "What you mean? I was five minutes early. It's not even six o'clock."

  "Like I said, late. Come earlier from now on or I'll feel like you don't take this seriously. Did anybody see you?" he asked,

  "I don't think so. I wasn't looking though."

  "You have got to be more careful. If this gets out, it's over with, regardless if I like you or not. You understand?"

  "Yeah," I said.

  "Go ahead, have a seat." He pointed to his computer chair as he sat at the edge of his bed.

  His room was particularly clean with a new-car smell in it. I think they sold that in stores, just never heard of anyone actually buying it for their room's fragrance. A few pictures of sports vehicles hung on the wall, but other than that, nothing was too out of the ordinary.

  I walked over to his desk, trying to mentally rehearse all of the info I had jammed in my brain the day before, pushing my way through the recent memory of my fight with Lewis.

  He pulled out a folder from under his bed before sitting down, then opened it. Flipped through a couple pieces of paper.

  "So, tell me. If you had to pick one item to be in a grocery store, what would it be?" he asked, still flipping through pages and not making eye contact.

  I looked at him for a second, trying to figure out if this was a trick question or if he was just making small talk while he got his things together. He paused and looked up, seeing what my hesitation was about.

  "I, uh, I guess I'd be an...uh--" I murmured. "I'd be a flashlight."

  He straightened up on his bed, pushing his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose, and squinted with bewilderment. "A flash light? From a grocery store?"

  "Well, yeah. They sell flashlights at grocery stores. They even have the little batteries at the front before you check out."

  "Hmm...okay. Continue."

  "Well light is usually a good thing, especially with the world being so dark. Dark with ignorance, dark with judgment, dark with hopelessness because people can't see a reason to go on. So if nothing else, I'd like be the one who brings the one thing that can combat, if not fix, all of that. I'd bring the light."

  He let out a long, "Hmmmmm..." as he rubbed his imaginary beard in deep thought.

  He closed his folder and looked at me, his face expressionless. Awkward ensued.

  "Nicely done, Shawn. Okay, interview over. I'll help you get down with me and the brothers." he said, putting his folder back under his bed again.

  "That's it?"

  "Yup."

  "Man I did all that studying last night, and you only had one question. One question that had nothing to do with it?"

  "Oh, it had everything to do with it, and you nailed it. Good job," he said, starting back towards the door.

  I felt like I'd been played.

  "So, why that question then?"

  "Your answer showed me the way you see the world, which is what I needed to know before we went any further."

  Why didn't you say that in the first place, I thought.

  He continued, "I think you'll be a great fit, but that's not good enough. Now it's time to convince them," he said, nodding towards the door and the commotion on the other side of it.

  "Okay, cool, well how do we do that?"

  "We'll talk about that later. I honestly didn't expect you to answer the question that well so I didn't plan for it. Let's just call it a day and I'll send you a text next time we need to discuss anything. No worries, you'll be fine."

  He patted me on the back and let his hand rest on my shoulder in reassurance. But the energy I'd gotten from him thus far was everything but reassuring.

  I shook my head and let myself out the door, making my way through his frat brothers and their female friends. I was relieved and frustrated at the same time but didn't have time to sweat it.

  I was in need of a shower, some sleep, and, with a reminder from my screen saver, a talk with Danielle.

  I managed to get my foot in the door but if I didn't hit her up then that door was bound to slam shut without too much time left in the school year to pick the lock. So, I sent her a text.

  Me: Hey Dani. How are you?[7:34 p.m.]

  I knew not to expect a reply any time soon, but figured she might send one through by the time I reached the house.

  I started feeling the effects of my little 60 second bout with Lewis. My back was sore and my knuckles were throbbing. I must've missed and hit the ground. Either that or he had a steel enforced chin.

  I didn't even like fighting. Swore I'd never be one of those types. I was educated. Civilized. Supposedly beyond the barbaric means of settling disputes. Most of all, I was lucky to get out of there before campus security came lurking for a highlight to their day because that entire situation could've gone left in no time at all.

  I pulled in to my apartment and checked my phone.

  Nothing.

  My new addiction to air fresheners and fabric sprays had the house smelling like a fruit orchard. It's how I kept it company-ready, particularly for my clients and partly for the thought of female company. Even though there was no bedroom action going on, I knew there was no better turn-off than for a woman to walk in a place that smelled like old dish rags and possum pussy.

  I heard my phone vibrate from the kitchen counter and all but sprinted. I wasn't going to delay a reply to Danielle for anything. But yet again, it wasn't her.

  Cha
ntel: Hey you.[8:27p.m.]

  It doesn't matter how harmless or kind a text is. If it's not from the person you wanted it to be from, it'll annoy the hell out of you just for getting your hopes up.

  I flung my phone on the couch, then walked back in the room, stripping and stepping out of my jeans along the way. Hopped in the shower trying to rinse some of my tension off.

  After about thirty minutes and pruned finger tips, I got out with the steam still rising from my shoulders. Thought briefly of the dishes that needed washing then shortly after decided to procrastinate as usual.

  I had that problem since I was a little boy. Hated chores paid a hefty price of butt whoopings for it too. But I think the agilities I practiced moving in and out of the furniture when Momma chased me with her belt was partly why I eventually was able to earn my football scholarship. I wonder if my dad would've caught me.

  I reached up to the ceiling fan and tugged on the chain to cut the lights out, then flopped back on the bed.

  I tried to get comfortable but couldn't shake the feeling I was forgetting something even though I couldn't quite place it.

  I knew the stove wasn't on. Pretty sure I locked the door. Don't think I had any homework. I looked over to the wall outlet and saw my phone wasn't on the charger.

  Shit.

  My phone.

  "No, no, no!" I yelled, remembering that I was expecting a text from Danielle.

  I hopped up and looked on my dresser. Didn't see it. I grabbed my pants and patted the pockets.

  Wasn't there either.

  Went back into the living room and tore the couch pillows up. Still couldn't find it.

  Okay, so I walked in, I thought out loud, trying to retrace my steps. Then I came right here, and I turned around and threw my phone to the...-- I looked on the other side of the couch and saw my phone against the wall.

  "Gotcha," I said, triumphantly. I unlocked the phone and saw Danielle's text. My smile wiped away when I saw it was from a half hour ago.

  I called her back instead of texting so I could hear her tone in case she was pissed. About the sixth ring, she finally picked up.