by Ni-Ni Simone
It was almost as if we were in a movie and someone put us on pause, ‘cause we were all standing still while Big Country was in his own zone singing, “Know when to hold ‘em/Know when to fold ‘em.” The only thing that snapped him out of his place in space was Shae slapping him on the back of his neck.
“Have you lost yo mind!” she screamed as people filed toward the door, swearing that Big Country’s first party was retarded.
“Oh my fault. My fault. Don’t go nowhere,” he said, slapping on Drake’s CD, just in time to stop the crowd from leaving and save the party’s rep. “Big Country ‘Da Stunna’ got this,” he said into the mic, “See y’all was ‘bout to leave and this pajama-jammy-jam is ‘bout to turn into a fish fry!” He popped open the extra large cooler that sat beside his DJing table and said, “I got some dressed po-boys and Doritos y’all!”
The crowd went wild.
He continued, “I got some crawfish. We ‘bout to break the heads off!”
“Yeah!” the crowd serenaded him.
“All silkie-silkie nah! I got some grilled chicken livers with pepper sauce and mustard greens straight outta my mama’s care package. And fo’ er’body from up north, my Jersey and New York crew, I got some Chinese chicken wings, some cat sticks, I mean crab sticks and whities! Oh yeah, baby. Ya smellin’ me now, ain’t you?” He turned the music up, the crowd was already amped, but now with the promise of food their excitement went through the roof.
“Cornbread.” Big Country turned toward Shae, calling her by the nickname he’d given her when we were in high school. “Go fire up the deep fryer, baby! It’s about to be on and sizzlin'!”
The deep fryer? All I could imagine was the fire department and the campus police shuttin’ this down—which meant one thing: this was my cue to leave.
“Khya.” I tapped her on the shoulder, ‘cause there was no way I wanted to hear Shae’s mouth.
“Wassup?” She smiled a little too hard and that’s when I noticed she had some dude checking for her.
“I’m retiring for the night.”
“You sure?” she asked, paying me little to no attention.
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
“All right, I’ll meet you back in the room.” She looked at the cutie she was kicking it to. “In the morning that is.”
I shook my head. “Bye, girl.”
“Bye,” she said, never turning around.
I stepped into the hallway and felt like I was walking through hell. It was hot, sweaty, and filled with a million people.
I walked toward the exit and suddenly stopped dead in my tracks.
I could’ve sworn that I saw … nah, that’s not him … but wait, let me just stand here and get a good look. After all, nothing was worse than running up on somebody and they turned out to be the wrong mofo.
I just knew my eyes had to be deceiving me. Students passed back and forth before me, so I was doing my best to see clearly.
I stood still and waited for a few seconds—that felt like hours—until my view was clear. That’s when I knew without a doubt exactly who I was seeing: Josiah. Boldly leaning against somebody’s room door, showing every last one of his thirty-twos; while some chick—who had every ounce of her C cups spilling from the deep plunging neckline in her midriff—was all in his face.
Now we had a problem.
My first instinct was to straight trip, cuss, and go off. But then I thought about how that would only make me look stupid. I did all I could to fight off the tears I felt banging on the backs of my eyes.
“Seven.” Shae ran up behind me. “Why are you”—her words started to drift—“leave … ing.” She was silent for a moment. Long enough for me to clear my throat and get myself together. “Hold da hell up, is that Josiah?” she spat. “Yes, it is. Oh, I’m ‘bout to tear him up!”
“Who we ‘bout to give it to?” Khya said as she rummaged through her purse. “Where are my nunchucks? I could’ve sworn they were right here.”
“You can chill,” I said. “We don’t need any weapons, and anyway where did you two come from?”
“I came to find you,” Shae said.
“And I came behind her,” Khya answered. “Now’s what’s going on?”
“We just found Seven’s boyfriend.” Shae pointed to Josiah.
“Awl right, now.” Khya gave a sexy growl and snapped her fingers. “Ouwl, hey, lil tender—”
“Khya!” Shae spat.
“What had happened was ummm … what I meant to say was …” Khya pointed to the girl Josiah was standing next to. “Let’s just get to the point—who is that chick? And is she the reason Josiah hasn’t called you in a year?”
“It’s been a two days,” I corrected her. “And I don’t know who she is.”
“So you know what this means, right?” Khya said, answering her own question. “It’s ‘bout to go down, round!” She looked Josiah over. “I mean, he is fine. Looking like a straight Trey Songz. And yeah, he’s all tall and big.” She smiled. “Looking all strong like he can handle a girl with a lil meat on her bones … and yeah, he looks the exact way that I envisioned my baby daddy. But that doesn’t mean, we just gon’ take anything off of him. Oh hell nawl. We ‘bout to shut Soulja Boy down!”
“Don’t worry,” I said, successfully putting my hurt feeling at bay. “I got this.”
I arched my back, patted the sides of my fitted Juicy Couture jeans that were glued to my thick hips just right. My hair bounced to the small of my back as I stepped along side of Josiah and said, “Wow, you like what you see?” I looked the girl over. “I give her about a three.”
Josiah was clearly in shock and caught so far off guard that he took a step back and then two steps forward toward me. “I thought you weren’t coming until next week?”
“Oh really?” I batted my eyes. “Perhaps had you checked the zillion text messages I sent you, you would’ve seen that we were able to get housing a week before classes started.”
“Who is this, Josiah?” the girl questioned him.
“I’m wifey and you are—”
“Some lil greasy Wing Shack ho.” Khya looked the girl over. “Yup, I said it—and what?”
“Oh, I know y’all ain’t bringing no smack to me?” The girl looked at each of us and rolled her eyes.
“Oh, word?” Shae smirked. “Let me put you on notice real quick. I don’t do a buncha chitchattin', I straight pimp smack. Now look at me like that again!” She turned to Josiah and pointed into his face. “And when I’m done with her, you know I’m comin’ for you!”
“Chill,” Josiah said. “It ain’t even like that.” He reached for my hand and I snatched it back. “Seven, listen to me.”
“Oh you don’t owe me any explanation,” I said. “It’s cool. Your message is loud and clear, son.”
“What?” He frowned. “What are you saying?”
“Listen, boo.” I gave him a fake smile. “I gotta go, now.”
“Seven—” Josiah called behind me. “Sev!”
I didn’t even turn around; instead I kept walking down the hall and out of the building.
Shae and Khya walked in silence with me. Once we reached our dorm, Shae said, “I’m sorry that happened to you, Seven. Like, I don’t even believe this.”
“We shoulda just lumped him up, and then we would feel better,” Khya said. “But you know what, Seven, don’t even sweat that. Tomorrow, I’ma introduce you to somebody else.”
“Okay, enough of the pity party. For real.” I looked at them like they were losing it. “Do you see me sweatin’ it? I don’t care. I’m cool. I prefer to know the truth.”
Shae looked at me strangely. “You can keep it funky with me, Seven.”
I hated that she knew me so well.
“Shae—” I quickly looked her in the eyes and then looked away. “I’m fine. I wanted to chill in our room anyway. So listen, you and Khya go back to the party and have a good time. You got a boo that loves you to death; and Khya, you had a cutie who was all up
on you. So for-real, for-real, I’m straight. I’m ‘bout to wrap my doobie up, put on me some pajamas, and get some serious sleep on.”
“You sure?” Khya asked, concerned. “ ‘Cause cuties come a dime a dozen. And if I leave, trust and believe you won’t be seeing ya girl ‘til the morning.” She laughed a little. “I’m just saying, one of us has to tour campus.”
I laughed. “It’s cool, Khya. Now you and Shae go back to the party. I promise you, I’m okay.”
“All right.” Shae looked at me with reluctance in her eyes. “Call me if you need anything.”
“Okay, but I won’t be calling you,” I said as I watched them walk away.
By the time I stepped into our room I felt like I was going to break down at any moment. My eyes scanned the stacked boxes and for the first time since I’d arrived here this morning, I wanted my mother. I picked up the phone to call her and quickly changed my mind. The last thing I needed was to confess to her in my moment of hurt. Not a good move, especially since mothers forget nothing.
My sister, Toi. I’ll call her. Fail. She’d just tell Mommy.
The iron fist in my throat beat like a drum and the pounding grew harder and more intense, forcing me to the point where I couldn’t fight it anymore, so I laid across the foot of my bed and cried like I was in mourning.
That’s when I realized that suddenly and without warning I’d become that chick. The stupid chick. The one we never set out to be and swear to all our friends we would never become.
You know the chick you laugh at, shake your head at, and admonish for being desperate, needy, dying for her boyfriend’s attention. I was her and she was me. I’d called Josiah a million times a day, texted him over and over and over again. I knew it wasn’t cool. And I knew I needed to stop. But if I knew all of that … why didn’t I stop? Why did it have to come to this?
It’s not like I didn’t see that he’d been acting shady. Heck, I remember the exact moment when it happened: March 8th, 8 p.m. I called him and he spoke to me as if I were his boy. “Yeah, wassup? Let me get at you later,” he’d said in one breath, and before I could even ask him why he was talking to me like that, I heard a girl’s voice in the background as he hung up.
I wonder was it the same girl he was with tonight?
I confronted him on March 9th, the next morning when he called me back. And he said, “I can’t believe you sweatin’ me with this. Why would I have some random chick around when I’m your man and especially when I’m talking to you on the phone?”
“But you were talking to me in code.”
“Code?” he said, as if I were stupid. “What code? You know what?” He sighed. “If you don’t trust me, then maybe—”
Don’t ask me what he was going to say after he’d said maybe, because for me the implication was enough, so I didn’t let him finish. Instead my mouth said, “Of course I trust you.” Even though my heart didn’t.
I went on, “And I’m sorry for trippin'.” Even though I felt my trippin’ was warranted.
“I love you, Seven.” I felt like he was saying that out of habit.
“I love you too.”
“A’ight,” he said. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Later.”
And from that day to this one, I’d been warring with thoughts of us growing apart. But we’d been together since high school. I was his shortie and he was my boo.
We were a fairytale.
A hood love story.
A Romeo-and-Juliet romance, but we were supposed to get married and have kids at the end.
He always told me I was number one.
And I always asked him what’s higher than number one?
I guess tonight he gave me an answer.
We were supposed to last forever.
But why did forever have an expiration date …?
This had to be my fault.
But sometimes things just happen….
But us breaking up was never supposed to happen!
It was official: I was that chick and I didn’t exactly know how to change it.
This was sooooo crazy. The overflowing river of tears left a bitter taste of salt on my lips. I always swore that I would be strong and not cry; snap my fingers and everything would be all right … but I tried that and all I came up with was a phony lecture to myself filled with more “forget hims,” “I don’t need hims,” and “I got thises” than I could count….
I closed my eyes and hoped that when I awoke all of this would be a dream.
4
A part of me wants to leave
But the other side still believes …
—MELANIE FIONA, “IT KILLS ME”
“Seven!” I jumped out of my sleep; my heart pounded so hard and fast that I felt like it had dropped to my feet. My eyes scanned the room and nothing. All I saw were cardboard boxes and two empty twin beds. I ran my hand over my face and closed my eyes.
I have to be dreaming.
I turned over and snuggled deeper into my pillow.
“Seven, answer the door!”
That was Josiah. And I wasn’t dreaming. My eyes roamed my room until I found a small alarm clock on top of a box that read 3 a.m.
“Seven, don’t play with me, answer the door! It wasn’t what you thought!”
He pounded again. “Why aren’t you answering the door, Seven? What, you got somebody in there?”
Is he serious? Did he just come pounding randomly on my door … and now he’s screaming like a fool about a what? A who? Another dude?
How about let’s discuss that heifer you were giving the up-down to. I wish I would open this door. Puhlease!
“Oh, it’s like that, Seven? You leaving me out here like this?” He paused. “I hope I’m not hearing another dude up in there.”
I couldn’t stop smiling long enough to process how ridiculous—scratch that—how jealous he sounded.
Good for him. Touché. Now he knows what it feels like. ‘Cause he’s got hella nerve pounding on my door questioning me. What about “I’m sorry, Seven?” “You been there for me before there were any groupies.” What about that?
True story: Just hearing him pounding on the door, sweatin’ me, felt like someone had intravenously given me energy. I felt like I could lie here all night, not cry, and make him wait.
I loved him, yeah. I wanted to see him, yeah, but did I want to continue being played? No.
He pounded again. “All right, so you playing games now?”
I turned over and closed my eyes. Now I knew for sure I would sleep without having crazy dreams of him being with that chick, because the reality was he was outside of my door doing his best to get in here with me.
“If I leave,” he said through the door crack, “and find out that you ran into the arms of another man, it’s gon’ be a problem.”
And?
“And,” he stressed, “if I leave just know that I will never come back.”
Do you. I know he didn’t think that I would be moved. Puhlease. Not me. Go kick that to the chick you were with. Hmph!
I laid still, doing my best not to laugh out loud. A few minutes passed and Josiah’s pounding stopped. A few seconds after that, an uneasiness came over me, forcing me to wonder what he meant when he said he wasn’t coming back. Did he mean forever? Did he mean he would be gettin’ with that other chick? Did he mean that I wouldn’t be on his mind anymore … I wouldn’t be his shortie … wifey? Was lying here being stubborn to prove a useless point
worth giving away my man? I’m not sure… …All I know is
that his pounding was music to my ears and just like that it was gone.
I had to get up. Josiah was more than just some random dude—he was my high school boo. The present love of my life. The future Mister to my Misses. We had a history together…. Our yesterday was beautiful. He deserved to have me listen to his explanation. I mean, it’s not like I saw him tonguing the girl down or feeling her up. He was only leaning against the door … kicking it with her�
��.
I hopped out of the bed and hoped like hell that yesterday wasn’t all we had left.
My heart awakened the nervous butterflies in my stomach. I opened the door to find … nothing. I looked wildly from right to left and still nothing. Tears filled my eyes. This was too much. Why didn’t I let him in?
I leaned against the back of the door, closed my eyes, and as tears covered my face, I felt soft lips pressed against mine.
“Looking for me?” he whispered.
My baby. I breathed a sigh of relief as a thousand pounds felt like they’d fallen off of me. We kissed, and a few minutes in, he broke the kiss and asked, “You got somebody in there?”
“What?” I frowned. “Please, no, heck no. You don’t have to worry about me. But I can’t say the same—now who was that chick? And why didn’t you call me? You been cheating on me?”
“Seven, I swear on everything I am, I don’t even know that chick.”
Just when I was prepared to believe almost anything he had to say, he says something stupid like this. I twisted my lips. “You didn’t know her? Sure,” I said sarcastically.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Seems you don’t mean a lot of things.”
“Listen, I know that chick from around campus. I was only speaking to her. That’s it!”
“Why didn’t you tell me that when I was standing there?”
“You didn’t give a chance to explain.”
True, I didn’t. “You could’ve made me listen!”
“How? When you walked away and when I called you, over and over again, you wouldn’t even look back.”
He’s right—I didn’t look back. But what did he expect me to do? “Josiah, listen, maybe we just need to take a break.”
“A break? Oh, so that’s what this is really about? You wanna break up with me?”
“You’re the one who hasn’t been returning my calls. Ignoring my texts. Straight-up dissing me. I expected you to help me move in and where were you?”
“I thought you were coming next week!”
“You shoulda called me back instead of being in that trick’s face, and then you would’ve found out that my housing came through early!”
