Vérité

by Rachel Blaufeld

  “My dad’s in prison, my momma raised her bastard son, and now she’s gone. Nothing is gonna change how I feel,” he told the top of my head, landing a kiss there before he started undressing me.

  “For someone who wanted to take it slow, you’re taking it fast now,” I said, breaking the moment.

  “I know, ’cause I’m going to take a shower with ya,” he answered.

  While the water warmed up, I asked, “By the way, who were you telling Chey not to get involved with?”

  “Oh, that. Not Chey, that girl Tiffanie. And Trey,” he said, running his hands all over my now naked body.

  “She was asking a million questions about him the other night . . . while she was slapping my shoulder,” I said with a wink.

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “I didn’t say anything about Miss Cleveland,” I said, defending myself.

  “I know, but that’s why I warned her off. Miss Cleveland does not like sharing, and from what I hear, she pops out here and starts smacking girls around.”

  “Oh, wow. Okay. Well, I just said I didn’t know anything. What’s her name again? Apple? Miss Cleveland?”

  “Cherry. You’ll meet her, I guess, babe.”

  He snatched me up and deposited me in the shower. Once we were under the spray, he picked me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist. When he slid inside me, I let out a gasp at the decadent feel of Tiberius deep inside me as hot water cascaded all around us.

  We were pinned against the wall, pressed against each other while Tiberius held all my weight when he said, “S’okay I’m not gloved? Want me to pull out?”

  “I’m on the pill. It’s been more than a year,” I said without looking at him.

  He brought his hand to my chin and forced eye contact. “Don’t care about any of that, T.”

  And then Tiberius made love to me against the shower wall with one arm holding me tight and his other hand between us, touching our connection and teasing my clit. I’d never come with someone I cared about other than the night before, and this made that look like amateur night.

  I had a feeling that when something meant something, it was going to be better than I expected.

  With fall coming to a close, the temperatures dropped, and Tiberius and I grew closer. His season heated up and mine cooled down. It was mid-November and the basketball team was traveling and playing nonstop, but Tiberius still made time for me. It was a foreign concept, yet sort of sweet all the same. Pierre never made time for me unless it was for fucking, and always quickly at that. To me, the act of sex meant something on its own, and I was quickly learning how mistaken I was.

  I went back to study hour with Tiberius so we could steal a stolen glance or two of each other, grabbing a few meals before or after in the Union. Usually one of his teammates would roll up to our table and join us, teasing us about each other. We weren’t about any of that sickening stuff, all touchy-feely every minute, shoving our tongues down each other’s throats every second, but it felt good to just be together.

  The track team was moved inside for winter conditioning, which took place painfully early in the morning, so I didn’t stay with Tiberius every night. Lucky for me, he understood; he was an athlete too.

  He also needed time to hang with the guys, and it had become obvious that the party scene wasn’t me. So he went without me. When they weren’t practicing or playing or partying, Tiberius and his teammates were always around. Somehow along the way my own roommates had infiltrated every facet of my life, and tortured the boys into hanging all the time.

  We were in a little routine, but Thanksgiving was coming, and my parents kept texting and asking me to come home. I hadn’t done it once before, so I wasn’t sure what gave them the idea I would now. Tiberius had nowhere to go, and I knew this first holiday without his mother made his heart heavy. I just wasn’t sure how to approach the subject, or if we were even at the point to share a holiday.

  He’d been away the last two days at a game in New Jersey, and I was sitting at a table in the Union, twirling my hair around a pen as I tossed back my coffee and read a textbook on my iPad. At least, I was pretending to read, but really I was thinking about Thanksgiving and Tiberius.

  I wanted to see him. Badly. I missed him, everything about him—his smile, the way he tossed his arm around me, when his dimple came out and when it didn’t. Especially that.

  Something tickled the top of my hand and I moved to swat it away, but was startled when someone grabbed my hand and held it tight. Turning, I looked up and saw the man of my daydreams.

  “Hey,” he said, pulling me up for a kiss. It was a soft, closed-mouth one, but not disappointing in the least.

  “Hey, you. I saw your game on TV. You guys looked great, and you played the whole fourth quarter!” I knew I was grinning from ear to ear like a cheese ball. My cheeks were aching, my smile was so wide.

  He ruffled the messy bun on top of my head, causing strands to come loose and fall around my face. Then he pulled me close and kissed the top of my head. “Yeah, I did.” His voice was light, easygoing, and laced with hints of want and need. “You eat yet?”

  “No, just been drinking coffee.” I pointed toward my almost empty mug.

  “Ah, the love liquid. Girl, you gotta consume something more than that. Come on, let’s go out to eat. Pack up.”

  When his mother passed away, Tiberius inherited a small life insurance policy she’d set up for him. He also got a stipend as part of his scholarship, but I still suggested we split the tab as I packed up my backpack.

  Surprising me, his mood turned dark, fast. “Uh-uh, Rex. You think I’m some freeloader who doesn’t take care of my woman? Shut your mouth!”

  I’d never seen this side of Tiberius. He was raging—no smile, no dimple, nothing.

  Shrugging, I said lightly, “I was just trying to be fair.” I hoisted my backpack on my shoulder and turned, no longer sure I wanted to go to dinner.

  He whipped me around so we were facing off in the middle of the Union. “You want your parents’ money? You like their handouts? Or are you making it on your own?” he asked, gritting his teeth on a tense whisper.

  “You know I don’t want their money,” I said with an eye roll.

  He knew I hated them and all they stood for; we talked a lot about them. But I still hadn’t told him about my sexual escapades within their circle. I knew this was probably a mistake, but he kept saying the past was the past.

  His fierce expression eased a bit. “Well, you make do with your grandma’s money in the bank and your tutoring job and don’t worry about me. We’re making this work, and I take care of my woman. And I wanna take you out to eat.” He put his arm around me and pulled me in for a hug before walking us out of there.

  We went to a small Italian place where we got a booth in the back. We sat across from each other and Tiberius stretched his legs out. I was still a little unnerved about his outburst, not saying much, and he nudged my ankle with his and said, “Drop it, Rex. It’s over.”

  “Okay.” I let go of our argument and picked up a piece of bread before dunking it in garlic oil—only because Tiberius had done the same. If we both ate garlic, it wasn’t a big deal.

  Our food arrived soon after we ordered, and we both laughed at the heaping plates of pasta steaming in front of us. The place was crowded and all around us were couples, groups of girls, and families, all eating, smiling, talking, and having a good time. I didn’t think I’d ever done anything like this with my family or my stuck-up friends from back home.

  “This is great! I wish I’d grown up in a family-friendly town like this.” My eyes betrayed me, getting a bit misty at the thought.

  “Oh yeah?” Tiberius asked.

  “It seems like everyone is just so much happier here. Genuinely happy.” I twirled my spaghetti around my fork, then took a bite and chewed, closing my eyes against the tears that threatened as I moaned a little at the carb-infused goodness.

  “Good?” he asked.

&n
bsp; “Yep. Wanna try this?” Without any hesitation, he stuck his fork right into my enormous pile of spaghetti with olive oil and garlic.

  “Back home, we lived in the city,” he said after he swallowed, “but still had fun just hanging in the coffee shop or on the blacktop courts. Of course, kids got into trouble, went the wrong way, but I knew my mom had enough on her plate. She didn’t need any more, so I stayed clean. Yeah, I tried drinking, but stayed away from the drugs and shit. A few of my old buddies ended up going down a bad path, landed in jail. And a few of us got out.”

  He took a long sip of his water and dug back into his own pasta with meat sauce, or Bolognese, as I’d teased him when he ordered. He’d countered, “I refuse to eat anything that fancy, especially when it’s ground beef,” and I smiled to myself at the thought before I spoke.

  “You had so little, but still sounds better than our vacant lives back in La La Land. My friends and I would go to the fancy food court and eat empty calories of frozen yogurt, licorice, and diet sodas. On special occasions we’d eat at fancy sushi joints, driven there by private limos so our parents didn’t have to change their plans. We’d drink stolen champagne in the limo and sake later, even though we weren’t old enough.”

  Smiling sadly at him, I said, “Then we’d end up climbing the Hollywood sign and flashing the world, or raging in someone’s media room. There were a lot of Vine and YouTube videos of us dancing, tipsy and smiling, and cruising Santa Monica with one of us sticking our head out of the limo. To anyone else, it looked like were having a blast, but in reality we were just trying to stuff a bleeding hole with gauze. Your mom worried, but our parents only cared about themselves unless we fucked up their reputation.”

  Tiberius listened quietly, his eyes warm pools of seawater.

  I tilted my head back against the booth and took a deep breath. “If you had a son or daughter in rehab or some facility for an eating disorder, it was like a status symbol. You were so rich that you could get your kid the best care, and she or he would come out all shiny and new. As long as they didn’t slum around.”

  I knew right away what he was thinking, that I was slumming with him, so I quickly spoke. “But that life wasn’t for me. This right here—sitting and eating garlicky goodness and talking about everyday stuff—that’s for me. None of that other bullshit.”

  He winked at me. “I don’t know if you mean it, but I like it. That life sounds pointless. Christ, even if I go pro, I’m not gonna live like that. Gonna raise my kids right.”

  “Speaking of pro, what did the coach say about your game?” I turned the conversation, pushing my plate away.

  Tiberius gave me a wide smile, his lips curling up, his eyes dancing with a blueness that rivaled a summer sky. “He said it looks like I may get a chance to start a few non-conference games.”

  “Oh, wow! Will any of them be at home?” I asked. I didn’t go to every game, but I tried to catch most of the home ones.

  He nodded.

  “Cool!” And it was. I looked forward to seeing it.

  “So, what’s your plan for Thanksgiving?” he asked, turning the subject serious again.

  “None. I went home with Ginny last year, and the year before that I spent the day waiting for Dr. Dubois to meet me, but he never showed. I guess he was with his fiancée.”

  “Well, we play on Saturday night, so we’re all here. Trey and his lady are doing something in Cleveland at her apartment. Want to go?”

  “With you?” I asked.

  “I would hope so, Rex.” His smile was back, and the sight of it made me melt a little.

  “Um, I guess. Is Trey okay with that?”

  He leaned across the table. “Yeah, he is. You’re my woman. But you can’t have any of your roommates tag along.”

  This time, I laughed. “They’re gonna go crazy trying to figure out where you’re all going.”

  “I know. I told them not to mess with Trey.”

  I held my hands up in the air and said, “I’ve been staying out of the whole mess. Ever since I caught a look at Trey’s room and saw the condoms and the booze, I stay away.”

  At the mention of condoms, Ty raised an eyebrow.

  “What?”

  “I was just thinking, I don’t think I’m ever gonna be able to go back to using those. You feel so good with nothing between us. Want that forever. Not just that. All of you.”

  His eyes were narrowed, but Tiberius was no longer smiling. He was contemplating whether he’d overstepped his bounds with me. He knew I loved to run when things got real, and he was probably wondering whether that comment was going to have me lacing up my shoes. His furrowed brow spoke volumes.

  “Come on, let’s think of the now,” I said, standing up to go.

  He threw some money on the table and we walked out. Except this time, Tiberius didn’t put his arm around me.

  Tiberius tucked his “forever” comment away—somewhere deep—and I found myself disappointed. That night after he said it, he made love to me at his townhouse before he walked me back home, leaving me at my door with his usual sweet kisses. But this time there were no promises of what tomorrow would bring.

  The next day I woke up and went for a run, pushing my time and pace as usual. It was freezing and my fingers felt frostbitten, my gloves no match for the brutal late fall winds. I stopped in town for a latte, warming my hands on the cup as I walked back to my dorm, but I didn’t feel like going inside.

  Instead I walked up to the Ag building like Tiberius and I did at the beginning of the school year, but this time I was alone with my thoughts. I could have asked Ginny to come, but she was figuring her own shit out. She also didn’t have the same baggage I carried around, which was why her personality was so light—she wasn’t strapped down with a million pounds of bad history.

  I could talk to Chey and Stacy about it, but somehow I knew their suggestions would be a little more forward than I was used to being. Plus, they would only accuse me of being a nutty white chick. They wanted a man like Tiberius, and if I told them he’d said he wanted forever with me but I wasn’t sure how to handle that, they’d admit me to a mental hospital for not jumping on it.

  So I stood on the corner underneath the street sign, leaning up against the pole with my latte in hand, and did something I’d really never done before. Thought about what kind of woman I was.

  Back in Los Angeles, I wasn’t a forever kind of girl.

  With Pierre, I thought I could be one with him. And I was dead-on-balls wrong.

  With Tiberius, I didn’t want to be one, but I was. Period.

  The bottom line was that this situation was up to me to fix. Alone. So I decided to talk with Tiberius around Thanksgiving.

  That’s what I had in mind when the guys played a game at home the night before Thanksgiving. Of course, I went and cheered like a crazy girl every time they pulled up for a three or ran the court for a layup. Tiberius was getting in his fair share of minutes and contributing to the team, and the guys appreciated him for it. They were winning, so everyone was on a high, especially after winning a home game and getting off until noon on Friday after Thanksgiving.

  I didn’t wait outside the locker room; after the first time, I never went back there. I did wait by the back entrance for Tiberius, agreeing to go to a house party with them all. As we walked back toward campus, Chey and Stacy stepped in right behind us like heat-seeking missiles. They weren’t going to miss a good time with these guys. Ginny was spending the night with Bryce before she went home for the holiday, and he stayed behind to play on Saturday too.

  We hurried through the wind toward an apartment past College Avenue. As soon as we crossed the threshold, everyone began hooting and cheering for the guys. Beers were passed around and the music was turned louder. The place was full of what were considered to be “ball babies”—girls who would do anything to hang with the team. Chey and Stacy didn’t fit so easily into the category because they were ball players too, but they certainly wanted to oust a few of
the ball babies.

  Tiberius skipped the beer, grabbed my hand, and pulled me out to dance. With his large hand spread on my hip bone, he moved us in sync; my hips and his were on the same page even when we weren’t between the sheets.

  “You gonna tell me what’s up?” he yelled over the music into my ear, his arm flung around my back, holding me tight.

  “Let’s not ruin this.”

  “Tell me,” he growled into my ear.

  “You just won, and I don’t want to do this here,” I insisted.

  Before I knew it he dragged me back toward a bedroom, opening the door and locking us inside.

  “Tell me, T,” he demanded, his deep voice rumbling throughout the vacant bedroom.

  We were standing face-to-face, but not touching. He hovered close, but was careful to give me space. After all, I was a flight risk. If he got too close, I might bolt, and if he was too far away, he might not be able to catch me. It was a very dangerous game to be playing, and I needed to stop.

  “You mentioned forever and you haven’t brought it back up,” I whispered, staring at the floor, hoping he couldn’t hear me over the vibrating beat.

  “Because I know you’re gonna fucking run, that’s why. I saw the look on your face. You’re not ready for that word, and I’m not losing you over it. It’s gonna happen,” he said, then pressed me back against the door and kissed me hard.

  “Maybe I am,” I muttered between kisses as wetness pooled in my panties.

  “Then say it, Rex.” He lifted his head to see me, all of me. His eyes bored into mine, searching for the truth.

  “Maybe I’m ready for forever. I don’t know. I’ve never even considered it before, not until you. Yeah, I thought about it with Pierre, but that was nothing more than a schoolgirl’s fuck-you to my parents thing. This feels real for the first time in my life, and I want that forever. Real.”

  Without a word, Tiberius grabbed my hand and whipped the door open. Dragging me through the party, he fist-bumped everyone who crossed his path, saying, “Yo, see you all later,” in his New Jersey way, and we were out of there.