“Come on in.”
I sat behind my desk making love to a triple white chocolate mocha cappuccino and preparing myself to put on a happy, supportive, and caring counselor face for whomever it was this time.
But it was my sweetheart, who I often refer to as my adopted daughter, Delilah.
“Hey, Ms. Brown.”
Delilah reminded me of the senior that I was almost ten years ago; independent, sassy, hard, and in the need of a lot of love.
“What’s going on with you this morning, Delilah?”
“Nothing,” she answered smiling and leaning into the door way. “Just coming to say hi.”
I looked at her suspiciously as I asked, “You sure?”
“I promise,” she said with a smile.
This was suspect. At the beginning of the 2007-2008 school year, I made a heartfelt speech to every homeroom. I introduced myself as the new Kraton High counselor and told them the mild version of my life story; dead mother, father that abused me, raising myself, no family, few friends, single mother, been there, done that, and seen it all, so they can, therefore, talk to me about anything. Apparently that speech struck a chord in Delilah, because ever since, she has been in this office spilling her guts out. This is fine because that was my purpose of becoming a high school counselor. I didn’t merely want to guide children into good grades and help them fill out college applications. I wanted to be that shoulder, that advice, that parent that I was missing when I was in their very shoes when I walked these halls.
However, Delilah is how I earn a paycheck. Her mother is a single parent with five other kids younger than Delilah. With three different fathers producing those children, and a few step-daddies here and there, Delilah obviously has issues. Thankfully, her focus is on getting the hell out of Chicago, so her grades are superb and she wants badly to be accepted into any HBCU.
If she could only get rid of the twenty-four year old drug dealing boyfriend from the Westside, she’d be perfect. But it is very hard for her to shake him when his finances and love for her makes up for the welfare her mother is on and absence of any father-figure; especially when she opts to live in the boyfriend’s condo in Hyde Park versus her mother’s cramped two-bedroom apartment on the Low End.
“So how are things going?”
Delilah grinned as she answered, “Great! I finally got my spot in the student parking lot.”
“As if parking a block away wassoooo bad,” I teased.
“I just wanna be able to park in the lot with the rest of the class of ‘09.”
I laughed, rolling my eyes in the back of my head. “Girl, please miss me with the overbearing class spirit.”
“‘Miss me’? Ms. Brown, please don’t try to be cool.”
I balled up a piece of paper and threw it at her. “I’m cooler than most,” I told her. “I can teach you a thang or two.”
Delilah smiled. “I know. That’s why I like you.”
“So are you going to stand there until homeroom is over, or are you going to make it on time for attendance?”
As she rolled her eyes, Delilah answered, “Bye, Ms. Brown.”
“Bye, Delilah. Come see me later.”
“Will do.”
As I opened my email, yet another visitor came knocking on my door. I could tell by the rhythmic beat that it was Crystal, an English teacher that has become a very good friend of mine since I started working here.
“Come on in.”
Crystal appeared on the other side of the door looking somber and gloomy.
“What’s wrong with your face, girl? Cheer up.”
But I knew what was wrong with her. Her husband, Sean, has been the source of her sadness since I met her. I live for the day that she walks up in here and I don’t see that ring on her finger. However, rather than seeing a tan line from where her ring used to be, I often see black eyes, busted lips, and bruises. I get so angry because it reminds me of the days that I wore the same bruises because my father beat me every time he got drunk or simply just felt like it.
Crystal sat in her usual seat in front of my desk. Though evidently sad, she looked cute today. Usually she goes overboard to look like a bum so Sean won’t feel insecure when he drops her off at work. Yes,drops her off. He always finds a reason for her car to stay parked at home so that he can know when and where she is going.
Anyway, she actually put some effort in her physical appearance today. She had on make-up and heels. She even combed her hair out of that awful ponytail.
“You actually don’t look like shit today,” I said while lightly clapping. “What’s the occasion?”
Crystal flipped me off as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Then she answered, “Sick of Sean and his bullshit.”
“What did he do now?”
“What doesn’t he do?”
“Was it that bad?”
Couldn’t have been any worse than his usual stunts, but for the sake of being a friend and keeping my smart ass comments to a minimum, I played along.
“I went through his phone and saw that he’s been text messaging some bitch.”
This wasn’t new. Though Crystal has never caught Sean’s dick in the other women’s vagina, there has always been text messages, weird phone numbers, and times when Sean has tip-toed into the house at five o’clock in the morning.
“What did the text messages say?”
“They ask each other how their day is going and say good morning. You know, that little getting to know you bullshit.”
There really wasn’t much that I wanted to say. Like I said, it was every other week that she and Sean were having one issue or another, but she never leaves him.
“So what’s up with you? Did you and Vince go out last night?”
I answered, “I already told you that I’m not going out with him again.”
“You say that all the time, but you know you can’t get enough of that chocolate motherfucka.”
Chocolate he is. Vince is an Offensive Tackle for Chicago’s Arena football team. In his spare time, he assists our full-time coach, Coach White, with the Kraton High Bronco’s. For the past year, he and I have been in a peculiar situation. When he first attempted to date me, I immediately declined because I knew that I had yet to get over how my relationship with Taij ended. Then I started to get over it by entertaining myself with emotionless connections. I just wanted, and want, to have fun with no possibilities of my feelings getting hurt, so I date people with the same motives. Vince has made his motives of wanting a relationship with me very clear. So we may go out, flirt, and have kissed a couple of times, but I refuse to take it any further because I know that my guards are up and won’t allow for my emotions to get as involved as his already are.
Yet, the more I run, the harder he chases me.
“You’re right,” I admitted, while taking the last sip of my cappuccino. “I can’t get enough of him. He spoils me, but I feel like I’m taking advantage of him.”
“Why? You told him that you weren’t interested in a relationship. If he chooses to continue to attempt to persuade you into one with wonderful friendship and quality time, let him. I don’t see why you keep running from commitment anyway. You and Taij broke up almost two years ago. It’s time for you to stop punishing very good potentials because of one asshole.”
“I have to see Vince on a regular basis in a professional environment, so treating him how I treat my randoms is a no-no,” I explained. “I just want to be unattached, and I don’t want to hurt Vince’s feelings, so I have to keep my distance from him.”
“What’s wrong with being attached?”
“The very reason you came in here with the shit face because your husband is text messaging some strange woman.”
Crystal looked as if she wanted to rebut, then recanted and simply replied, “Hell, you got a point.”
But I didn’t need her confirmation to know that I was right. Listening to Crystal’s stories clarifies my decision to fuck them and leave them, rather
than fall in love with them.
LYRIC
“So are you going to tell me why you stormed out yesterday, or are you going to just continue to sit here like everything is okay?”
Veronica looked at me as if I ruined her lunch by even mentioning the obvious. She met me at Pizza Capri in Hyde Park for lunch. For the past forty-five minutes, she has been smiling and chatting as if her actions yesterday were normal.
“How long did you think I was going to let you act like nothing is wrong?”
“There isn’t anything wrong,” she insisted.
“Don’t play with me, Veronica. You stormed out of the house like a baby.”
“I didn’t storm.”
“There was obviously something wrong.”
“I was fine.”
“Even Bradley noticed that something was wrong.”
At the mention of Bradley’s name, Veronica’s eyes slightly rolled into the back of her head as she ate her Chicken Caesar salad.
“See? Something is obviously wrong with you,” I told her.
Giving up, she said, “If I answer your question, I want to talk about this and not just leave it lingering in the air like you always do.”
“Fine. Talk.”
“Why haven’t you said anything about me not wanting you to marry Bradley?”
“Because I am still waiting on you to tell me that you were just kidding when you said it.”
Veronica looked crushed, but I was more at awe of her audacity to ask me such a thing.
“I was very serious when I said it,” she told me.
“Why would you wait until two months before my wedding to tell me this?”
“Because I never thought you would seriously marry him.”
“Didn’t I look very serious as I wore the ring for the past six months?”
Veronica sighed and shook her head. I understood her frustration. This was a very peculiar situation to be in, and I felt bad because I put us in the middle of it while poor Bradley knows nothing and thinks his fiancée is the best woman in the world.
“Veronica, you knew I wanted to get married, and you knew I wanted to marry a man. I love you. I love you so much. But you’ve always known that I want children and a husband.”
“But I also know that you’ve been fucking me for the past year.”
“Just as long as I’ve been fucking Bradley. Your point?”
I may sound harsh, but she should expect my hostility. Veronica is all of a sudden throwing this at me at such a critical point in my relationship with Bradley. She perpetrated as if she was all honky-dory with us just being friends and fucking merrily, and now, as I approach the best day of my life, she wants to grow feelings and give me ultimatums.
“The point is that you’re moving on into this happily ever after and not giving a fuck about me and my feelings.”
“Veronica, you’ve always had a choice. When I got into a relationship with Bradley, I gave you the option to move on. You chose to stay. When I found myself falling in love with him, I made sure that you were fully aware that I’d found the man that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Did you think that I was joking?”
“I just never thought it would last.”
As Veronica sat across from me looking down into her plate, I could swear that her eyes were filling with tears. I knew she had feelings for me, as I have for her, but my feelings were never so strong that I would consider never being with another man again. I assumed that it was the same for her.
“So what do you want me to do?”
Quickly, she answered, “Don’t marry him.”
“And then do what?”
“Just be with me.”
“What about the husband and children that I want?”
“We can have children.”
“Not in the same way,” I argued. “I don’t get it. You’ve always known that I wanted to marry a man. We’re not lesbians. We are bisexual. We like men as well. I need a man. I like the idea of having a man in my bed every night.”
“And me in your bed too.”
“I sure do; which is the definition of being bisexual.”
Again she sighed, huffed, and puffed in aggravation. I understood her sadness. I always commended her for sticking by me all of this time. Veronica is loyal, and I am sure that it’s hard to realize that I love someone else more than I love her. But I have never required her commitment. Her loyalty has never been a must.
“I don’t understand what’s happening here,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief. “I feel like you’ve been putting up a front for the past year. You’ve never expressed any issues with me being with Bradley. You were always so comfortable with it.”
“I thought it wouldn’t last.”
“Wouldn’t last and then what? It would be me and you?”
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t marry you. So you mean to tell me that all this time you thought in the end it would be me and you? Me and you living in a house and adopting children?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“It’s not what I believe in, and it wasn’t what you believed in either.”
“Things change.”
“So you’re a lesbian now?”
“Lesbian. Bisexual. Stop putting labels on everything. It’s about being in love and wanting to be with the person that you are in love with. Not because that person has a dick or a vagina, not because society thinks it’s right for you to be with that person, and not because society taught you that the only option to marriage is a man. It’s about love.”
“I love you. I love you for the time we spend together and the friendship that we’ve developed. I love the sex that we have. I love how you make me feel. But I amin lovewith Bradley, and I want to marryBradley.”
I couldn’t think of any other way to say it. I was flabbergasted. And as Veronica continued to look at me as if how dare I choose my fiancé over her, my confusion grew. Suddenly I felt as if I was sitting across from a woman who wants attachment and that didn’t sit well in the pit of my stomach at all.
“Well, what the hell did you expect, Lyric? You all have been together for over a year.”
Upon arriving back from lunch, I replied to a few emails and took the elevator to the sixth floor to pop in on Tricey.
“No. We have not been ‘together’ for over a year,” I disagreed. “Veronica was never my girlfriend. She knew from the beginning that I wasn’t comfortable with having a girlfriend. I wanted the fantasy, the friendship, and the sex. Period.”
“But you admit that you love her.”
“I love you too though!”
She responded with a laugh. “But you aren’t fucking me! Sex plus time equals feelings. That’s with any sexual relationship; hetero or homosexual. You can only have sex for so long before either or both parties catch feelings.”
I sighed shaking my head as I sat across from Tricey’s desk in desperate need of an alcoholic beverage.
“So you mean to tell me that you don’t have any feelings for Veronica? That you only love her as friend? No different than how you love me?”
I reflected for a moment and searched deep in my soul to find the most honest answer.
I answered, “Yep”, without too much additional thought.
Tricey laughed, shaking her head and saying, “You ain’t shit.”
“How so?”
“Heartless bitch.”
“How am I heartless?!”
“What in the hell did you think was going on in the girl’s head while she never once was with another woman or a man? How could you have not realized that you were her significant other?”
“Veronica knows that I am all for the traditional family. She knows that I want a man-a penis. I want a big ass musty beer-bellied man laying up with me every night for the rest of my life. I have never desired to be in a relationship with a woman. Though Veronica and I have been having sex for a year and a half, we are simply very good friends that get along great
, shop together, hang out, and have great sex. In result of that, I still wish to have no commitment between us. You, my dear friend, cansurely understand that.”
Tricey laughed as she shook her head and put her hands up in defense. “No you won’t. You will not drag me and Amiel into this.”
“I’m just saying. Don’t try to sit there and make me feel like a heartless bitch for not having feelings for Veronica when you have a married man at your beck and call. To me, it doesn’t seem like you care too much about commitment either, while you are driving around in a forty-thousand dollar car.”
“Which I spent many of nights earning.”
I rolled my eyes in disgust of her arrogance.
Tricey then asked me, “So what are you going to do?”
“What do you think I should do?”
I waited to hear the intelligence of someone with no emotional attachment to my situation. Since she was on the outside looking in, I thought that Tricey would be able to tell me the right thing to do.
“Stop having sex with her.”
And this chil’ gives me the most ridiculous answer!
I was damn near appalled. “Stop having sex with her?! Are you serious?!?!”
Tricey was cracking up laughing as she answered, “Yes, I’m serious.”
“Why would I do something like that?!”
“To spare her feelings,” Tricey answered as if it were obvious.
“But I can’t stop having sex with her. That’s easy for you to say because you’ve never had sex with her. The girl is very talented…”
“Spare me please.”
“… She eats pussy like a champ.”
Tricey laughed as she threatened, “I am going to kick you out my office.”
I shrugged as I replied, “I’m just saying. Don’t make crazy suggestions like that. Let’s not get carried away with ourselves.”
“Then what the hell are you going to do? She doesn’t want you to marry Bradley, and she is starting to act out. Let’s not forget that you are getting married in a matter of weeks, and I be damned if I have been letting Billy Blanks kick my ass for nothing. I look damn good in that dress, and I’m wearing it in a wedding. I don’t give a damn which one of ‘em you marry, but, gawd damn it, you gone marry somebody!”
Good Girls Ain't No Fun Boxed Set (The SIX romance and urban fiction volumes of the LOVE, SEX, LIES series) Page 5
