by Derrick Jaxn
By the time I stepped out, I was no longer sleepy, but rather trying to decide exactly what to do with my newfound energy. I had a pretty good idea, but wasn't sure if I was up for the challenge. Only one way to find out.
I handed Chantel a towel and grabbed one for myself. Normally, air drying was my thing, but I wasn't going to be able to sprawl out as usual for my normal breeze so a towel would have to suffice.
I grabbed a pair of boxers from the top drawer, just to be on the safe side in case we happened to fall asleep. She looked at me as if she was offended when I did.
"What are you doing with those?"
"Well, I was about to put them on, but never mind I guess." I put them back in and hopped in the bed, reaching for my just-in-case condom stash I had in my jewelry box on the night-stand. I still wasn't hard yet, but hoping things would change soon. Music would help set the mood and get things right.
I reached over to my phone and found my Pandora app. It'd been a while since I'd had sex and the last time I did was with Danielle. We'd always had a playlist ready in the stereo but in an effort to let go of the memories, I'd deleted it months ago.
So I clicked on the first name that came to mind, R. Kelly. Definitely a safe bet for baby-making practice. So I thought.
Chantel slipped under the covers, head first like she was deep sea diving on her way to my penis. She felt around for a moment then began kissing and sucking me back to life.
As much as I was trying to stay focused on the moment, I couldn't. I had a horrible run-in with the police and still didn't have answers as to what it was Danielle was doing that was more important than checking her voicemail and coming to get me.
It was too much in one day.
I grabbed on to Chantel's ass. It was small but soft. Danielle's was much bigger and rounder to my taste. But this would do.
When I finally reached full erection, I tried to slide the condom on under the covers, something I'd never been good at before but this time it worked.
I kept my erection all of five seconds once it was on. Not only was the condom foreign to me after three years of relationship sex, but Pandora and its trusty playlist of associated songs somehow went from R. Kelly's slow jams to Donnie McClurkin with We Fall Down. (No pun intended.) But no way was I about to have sex to a gospel song.
She emerged from under the cover, looking at me frustrated. "Are you tired?"
"Not really, at least, I don't think so. Maybe. I don't know." I took off the condom as I spoke, admitting defeat for the first time. Optimus Prime had always been dependable, but these circumstances were too much for even he to transform under. My poor penis.
"You want me to just suck it for you?"
"Nah, you don't have to do that. The sun'll be up any minute now. Let's just try to get some rest before it rises. We can try again later."
She sucked her teeth. "All right, Shawn. Have it your way."
I reached over and turned my phone off. All the way off. I needed something to blame for the way that ended, and it was the scapegoat of choice.
****
Woke up the next morning, unconsciously flinging my hand over beside me to feel for Chantel. Nothing was there.
As my senses came to, I noticed the muffled sounds from a radio blasting from the kitchen. The same radio I had tucked away in my closet once my new neighbors moved in about two months before because they kept calling the apartment security on me for having my music too loud. My last warning came with a 100 dollar fine. My next one would come with an eviction slip.
I hopped out of bed, speed walking to the kitchen where breakfast was already in progress. Chantel was standing near the stove, switching her hips from side to side and bobbing her head to Queen Bey's new single on the radio. Completely naked, a sight every man deserves to see at least once in his lifetime.
She did a half spin and caught me out of the corner of her eye, then paused for a moment to smile.
"Well, good morning sleepyhead," she said, proudly being caught in the act of preparing breakfast in her birthday suit, a skillfully tailored suit at that. Her pale skin contrasted well with her nipples. I'd seen them the night before but with the full portrait in front of me in broad daylight, I was able to actually appreciate it.
I peeked over at the microwave and looked at the time. It was only seven in the morning.
"Good morning," I mumbled, trying to match her alertness and failing miserably. "Why you got the music so loud? You gon' wake my neighbors."
"They'll live. I closed the door so I wouldn't wake you up, though. But I like to have a little music when I cook. Oh, and you need to go shopping. You're almost out of sausage." She looked down at my boxers and walked up to me. "Speaking of sausage. . ."
"Chill, Chan. We need to turn this music down before my neighbors get upset and call the--"
As I said that, two knocks came at the door.
We both looked to where the sound came from, and then two more knocks came again, even louder.
"Dammit!" I yelled, going to hit the volume on the radio.
She looked at me with the "My bad" expression, and it only made me more frustrated for not pulling the plug earlier.
"Go in the room and get some clothes on while I talk to these folks. Hurry," I said with a hard tone.
Tried to think of excuses I could give to talk the security guard down. He was usually pretty cool but never appreciated having to come up the steps to my apartment for the same complaint every time. He was also very adamant about doing what he had to do, even if that meant I'd be out of a place to stay.
I walked over to the door, clearing my throat so I could speak clearly, and inhaled.
"Hi, Mr. Dae-Hoe."
Thank God, I thought. It wasn't security. Instead it was my little Korean neighbor who stood in front of me with his broom in his hand upside down like a weapon.
"You play rap music loud and wake wife!"
It wasn't rap music. But in his mind, any music black people played must've been rap music.
"I apologize for that. Please tell her I apologize. Won't happen again, my bad."
"Your bad now. Your ass next time! Turn rap music down or I call police!"
I closed the door in his face. Not only did I not want to hear anymore, his breath was being dramatic. Bad was an understatement. His was so bad it was sad and it was so sad, it could bring tears to your eyes. That's why it was dramatic and I didn't enjoy that drama all coming in my house.
He knocked again, and I opened the door.
"I said a'ight, Mr.--Umm...hey, Danielle."
"Hey, I got your message last night. You all right? I came as soon as I could. What happened? How'd you get out? Why'd you go in?"
I was stuck.
"Hello? Talk to me," she said, scanning me up and down for evidence of some criminal activity that'd lead me into going to jail.
"Hey. I mean, yeah, I did call you last night. What happened to you?" I said, trying to switch the subject momentarily while I figured out what exactly to do to keep her on that side of the door.
Stepping outside to meet her there would have been too obvious and I didn't have my key, so I would've been locked out in my underwear until I knocked for Chantel to open the door.
She beat me to a decision and pushed her way through me, dropping her keys on the kitchen counter as she walked in. "You have no idea. I was in my room and I could have sworn..."
She stopped. So did my heart.
"You cooking breakfast now?" She sniffed a few times, following her nose to the kitchen. "Since when you get up this early to start cooking? I never remember you getting up this early to cook. Why are you acting so strange, Shawn?"
I figured it was best I go ahead and let her know Chantel was there while I had to chance. With any luck she'd get pissed off and leave.
"So last night, I went to jail. I thought it was you coming to pick me up, but it wasn't. It was--"
"Hey," Chantel said, standing in the hallway opening and looking at us. "
What's going on?"
Danielle slowly turned around to see who was talking as I silently whispered a few cuss words to myself. My luck had to be the worst.
Danielle turned and looked back at me. "Is that?"
I already could see the memories from the previous visit after our date playing across her forehead.
I nodded, yes.
"With the shirt on that I got you?"
I looked past her to Chantel to verify, then sighed in defeat. Out of all the shirts she could've chosen.
Damn.
"Look, Danielle it's not what it looks like. I mean it kinda is, but just listen."
"You know it's rude to whisper, guys," Chantel cut in with her arms folding. Danielle and I both turned and looked at her. "Danielle, is it? How about you join us for breakfast? We'd love to have you. I'm sure you've worked up an appetite. You look really....really tired." She grinned.
Shoot. I walked towards her to try and get her to the room, "Chantel, this ain't none of--"
"I accept," Danielle snapped. "I'd love to join the two of you."
Chapter 10
Please...Put the Knife Down
The eggs. Bitter.
The sausage. Stale.
The grits. Pasty.
At least that's how it tasted through my struggle to act like the clinging of forks hitting the plates was more than just the calm before the storm.
I tried multiple times to evacuate before it hit. "Danielle, look, there's a better way to go about thi--"
"So Chantel. How did you guys meet?" she said, ignoring me.
I put my head down and kept force feeding myself. I didn't have a snowball's chance in the Sahara to get out of this one.
"Short version or the long version?" she asked cynically.
"Hmm...so there's a long version? Well, that's nice, but I'll pass. The short one will do."
"Well, a mutual friend linked us together after finding out I modeled."
"So you were a referral?" Danielle asked.
"I guess....wait, what is a referral to you?"
"A referral. Like a recommendation. You know, passed to the homies. If this is what you call modeling, then you were definitely that. Just a referral. For lack of a better, and maybe a more fitting term."
"Oh, then- I'd say I'm more like a promotion. Whoever had the position before clearly wasn't getting the job done."
Danielle lowered her eyes while her tongue swiped over the top row of her teeth. I didn't notice at the time, but my mouth was wide open and so were my eyes. I scanned the table for anything heavy and possibly projectile-like that could be used as a weapon, but Danielle caught it first.
She grabbed her plate and slung it like a Frisbee towards Chantel's neck. Despite the precision, Chantel moved out of the way, but not before it nicked her jaw and ricocheted into the wall.
"All right, that's enough!" I protested. "Danielle, you know better than this."
She scooted her chair back from the table. "I don't want to hear it, Shawn! I'm tired of you playing me like a fool."
"You? Tired of me?" I said, my voice raising with the heat of the moment. "So when I needed you most, you were nowhere to be found. But you're tired of me?!"
"I came as soon as I could. I went to the police station the moment I got your voicemail this morning and they said you'd already found your way home so I came straight here."
"You just so happened to not have your phone on you? Every other time you do but not this time? What were you doing last night that was so important? Huh?"
"You got the nerve to be asking while your little slut that, by the way, you told me was just your client is over here eating breakfast with no underwear."
Chantel snapped back, "Who are you calling--"
"Watch your mouth or get slapped in it," Danielle gnarled at her.
"Both of you, chill," I said, stretching my hands out between the two of them now that Danielle's fists were clenched and Chantel had stood up.
I repeated myself. "Danielle, answer the question. What were you doing last night?"
"Who are you? You're not my daddy. You're not my husband or my boyfriend."
That stung.
"Title or no title, we're supposed to take care of each other. Remember that?"
She deflated a bit and looked around as if she was coming out of her emotions. I was still knee-deep in mine.
"If this is what you call taking care of me," she said, cutting her eyes at Chantel, "then keep it. Y'all have fun."
She walked out the door. She didn't slam it, but instead closed it gently as if in those few steps she'd composed herself enough to make a decision she'd stick with this time.
I followed over to the door, making sure it was closed.
"So, you're just gonna let her throw things and then call me out of my name?"
"What do you mean, let? You was standing here just like I was."
"That bitch wouldn't even pick up her phone for you and you act like it's all good that she just dogged me out."
"I didn't let her do anything and I'm not going to let you disrespect her either."
"Fuck her!"
"Chantel, that's the last time. I mean it."
"You so defensive about her but she's clearly not tripping over you. I can see why," she said, looking down at my boxers again.
I took that as a jab that I didn't stay hard the night before.
"So we're going there now?"
She let out a hmph as to say, Yeah so what you gon' do about it?
"You know what, this is childish. You need to get your shit and go."
She sighed, "Wait, okay... I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. Let's just start over, okay?"
"Actually, let's not."
She walked over to me and drug her finger down the middle of my chest. "I promise, I can make it up to you."
I reckon she figured it'd take a bit more convincing once I didn't respond, because she dropped down to her knees and licked her lips, staring at my pelvis.
She repeated herself again, this time in a softer and more sensual tone, "Like I said, let's just start--"
"What part of no don't you understand?" I gnarled. "OUCH!" A pain shot through my stomach. I looked down and saw she had my scrotum clenched mercilessly in her hands. I pulled away and she grabbed tighter.
"Oh, Shawn," she moaned, slowly. "Why must you tease me so?"
"You cannot be serious right now."
"Oh, but I am,"
I don't know if she was trying to rape me or if she thought I was into the whole kinky, pain-is-pleasure thing, but I felt my fists clenching the more I ached. "Chantel, I swear to God. If you don't let me go, I'mma--"
"What? Hit me? You're going to hit me?" she looked up daringly and biting her bottom lip.
"I left my..." Danielle flung the door open and focused on Chantel. "Keys."
Fuck. I forgot to lock the door.
I closed my eyes, trying to just disappear from the moment. Pretending this day wasn't happening. Hoping that when I opened them again, I'd be waking up from a bad dream. Didn't work.
Danielle continued over to the kitchen counter where she'd set them down.
Chantel loosened her grip, without moving. We both just stared silently at Danielle, studying her every move.
She grabbed her keys, and on her way back to the door, paused by the kitchen and looked over near the sink. Then she walked over and reached and grabbed a meat cleaver out of the drainer.
"Danielle, please," I pleaded. "Put the knife down."
"I'm afraid I can't do that," she responded as she walked out of the kitchen. Her eyes focused again on Chantel who had not moved from the floor on her knees. "I was looking for this knife. Seems I left it here when I moved out. I'll take it back now. Have a good day." And she walked out.
I exhaled, as the door shut. Grateful that didn't take the turn it could have.
"Look, just go. Now," I said to Chantel.
"Fine," she puffed out as she stood back to her feet. "But first, whe
re's my money?"
I walked back to the room and dug into the left-hand corner of my dresser where the money I'd saved up to join the fraternity was at. I grabbed the full wad. Her shoes and clothes were in a pile by the foot of the bed so I grabbed those, too, while I was at it.
"Here. Anything else, I'll give it to you later. Just go," I said, shoving the money and her things into her hands.
She walked out two steps onto the porch before she turned around and said, "Do you know how many guys try me every single day? Plenty. And here you are telling me to leave as I stand here, unfucked. You must be gay."
"You know how many people go to a mall and flock to the clearance rack? Plenty. Doesn't say much about the quality of the goods, though, now does it?"
I shut the door before she could answer then went back to the table to finish my breakfast.
***
The next few days were a blur.
With no conversation from Danielle, Chantel, or Ronnie, I had all three of their voices playing in my head over and over.
I came up with a million what-I-should've-said-was responses for Danielle and Chantel. They always seem to come to you when it's too little, too late.
I thought back to Ronnie, too, and what he'd probably say once he found out we went through all that work to get me into the fraternity just for me to come up with no money.
There was less than two weeks left until the submission deadlines for my application, but it wouldn't even be viewed without either the money or one hell of a voucher from Ronnie. I tried calling him a few times only to get his voicemail, something I didn't care to leave messages with at the moment.
Outside of fraternity business, it would've done me some good to just sit down and talk with another brother. There was no better time than now to get an outside perspective, and that's what your boys are supposed to be for.
I needed a break from ruining relationships with bad news and failed explanations, so I'd been avoiding going to the cafe to see Auntie in the meantime.
I stepped out early one morning to clear my head, just my Nikon and water bottle somewhere in the middle of the woods. I didn't do a lot of nature photography but being from the country, I always felt a connection with the wildlife of southeastern Alabama.
