Back to Me

by Earl Sewell

  By late afternoon, I’d created Twitter and MySpace accounts. I’d just finished uploading photos that I’d taken with the built-in camera on the laptop to my new Facebook page. I found Anna and made her my first friend. Once she accepted, I saw that she was friends with Maya, Keysha and even Misalo. I clicked Misalo’s photo and then forwarded a friend request to him. I was completely surprised when, less than twenty seconds later, a message popped up, informing me he’d accepted my request.

  “Damn, that was quick,” I mumbled to myself. I looked at his profile page and then clicked on his photos. There were a ton of photos of him and Maya at various events. I clicked the video link to see what he’d posted. There were a bunch of videos of him playing soccer. There was another one of him and Maya walking along a wooded trail. Misalo was videotaping Maya as she walked in front of him. The video must’ve been taken last fall, because there were brown leaves everywhere and the trees were bare. Maya was wearing shorts and a short-sleeved pink top, so it must’ve been one of the last warm days before it became bone-chillingly cold.

  On the video, Misalo jokingly said, “We’re all alone in the woods. A killer could come and murder us.”

  “I’d let him kill you first,” Maya said.

  “You’d let me get killed?” Misalo asked sadly.

  “Wouldn’t you want me to live?” Maya countered as she kicked at a cluster of brown leaves that were at her feet.

  “Of course I would. I put you before everything,” Misalo acknowledged. “But would you at least go for help?”

  “Of course I would.” Maya turned and looked directly into the camera and blew him a kiss.

  “Gross!” I said aloud. How can he stand for her to kiss him? I wondered.

  The two of them came to a creek. Maya decided to walk to the creek’s edge. She asked, “Isn’t this beautiful scenery?”

  “Not as beautiful as you,” Misalo answered. When he said that, I almost gagged.

  “You’re so sweet,” Maya said as she walked back toward him from the creek’s edge. “Let me videotape you.” She took hold of the camera. Misalo stepped into the video frame. He looked cute. His blue jeans were sagging, and he had on a long red shirt with a gold chain draped around his neck. His hair was freshly cut, and when he smiled at the camera, I felt as if he were smiling at me instead of Maya.

  “Do you know what we should do out here?” Misalo asked.

  “If you say ‘Have sex,’ or anything like that, I swear I’m going to hit you on the head with this camera,” Maya warned him.

  “What a prude,” I mumbled. “You could at least make out a little. What’s wrong with that?”

  “Okay, there went that thought.” Although Misalo said it jokingly, I knew he had to have felt the burn of rejection. “We could have fun in a different way,” he suggested.

  “How?” Maya asked.

  “We could do our own version of The Blair Witch Project.” He laughed.

  “You want me to run through the woods, screaming, trip and film the snot running out of my nose? I don’t think so,” Maya proclaimed, as if it were the dumbest idea she’d ever heard.

  I whispered to myself, “I’d be cool with at least pretending something was after me. What harm would that do? Jeez! She’s more of a stick-in-the-mud than I thought.”

  The video ended and I clicked on the next one. It was a prom video. I could hear Keysha’s voice in the background, directing them to stand close together.

  “You guys look so hot,” I heard Keysha say over the loud roar of the music and the crowd.

  Misalo looped his arm around Maya and smiled.

  “Okay, you need to kiss her or something, Misalo,” Keysha directed him.

  He started laughing. Once he stopped, he turned toward Maya, pulled her close to him and kissed her.

  Keysha filmed it for all of two seconds before turning the camera toward herself. She then said, “That’s true love.” When she turned the camera back toward Misalo and Maya, they were slow dancing.

  I clicked on the next video clip and saw Maya standing alone.

  “Okay, I think I can still do this,” she said, just before spinning around on one foot like a ballerina. I was hoping she’d fall flat on her face, but she didn’t. She smiled at the camera. Princess Maya looked too damn happy, and honestly, her cheerfulness made my stomach turn.

  I was about to click on the next video when the chat screen popped up. It was Misalo. His message to me said, I didn’t know you were on Facebook.

  I answered, I just joined today. You’re my second friend.

  I see. Nice profile picture, he replied.

  I answered, Thank you. I don’t look too weird, do I?

  No, not at all. I’m sure plenty of guys will friend you and send you messages, he wrote.

  Is that a compliment? I asked.

  He answered, It can be.

  Then that’s what I will take it as, I replied. So, why aren’t you with Maya?

  Because she’s a liar! He typed out the words in capital letters.

  I was, like, “Wow!” when I saw that. I responded with a question. Do you want to talk about it? There was a long pause before he answered. For a moment, I thought I’d asked the wrong question or that he’d logged off. Finally he answered.

  I still can’t believe how dumb I’ve been. I drove to the mall today to pick up a birthday present for my mother. As I was walking past the food court, I saw Maya, Carlo and Keysha sitting together, having lunch. So, I went up to Maya and asked if I could speak to her for a moment. Then Carlo opened his mouth as if I was stepping to his girl.

  Really? I asked with my fingers glued to the keyboard. I wanted to know every detail of what happened next.

  Yeah, he answered.

  Well, what happened? I was on edge, waiting for additional details.

  It’s like you said. They’ve been dealing with each other behind my back. I even saw him holding up a new bikini, which I assumed he bought for her. At that moment, I saw my opportunity to score points.

  So I wrote, He probably did.

  Yeah, I know. Anyway, Carlo threatened me, which I found to be very disrespectful. I had to defend my honor, so we got into a fight.

  What! I couldn’t type the word fast enough.

  Mall security guards escorted us out through different exits. Next time I see him, I’m going to kick his ass. Misalo was clearly angry.

  I saw yet another chance to score even bigger points and really screw up Maya’s life, so I wrote, You know, I probably shouldn’t tell you this. I paused and waited to see if he’d take the bait.

  Tell me what? he asked.

  No, I really shouldn’t, I replied to string him along more.

  Is it about Maya? he asked.

  Yes, I answered.

  Then tell me, please. I want to know.

  I smiled because I was about to really twist things around. Well, I was walking back from Mr. Submarine earlier. I saw Maya and Carlo parked a few blocks from the house. They were doing some serious kissing. She was totally all over him.

  No way! Misalo wrote back, not wanting to believe me.

  I knew I had to make the lie stick, so I replied, I saw it with my own eyes. Why would I lie? Come on, Misalo, don’t be so naive. You said that you saw them hugged up, having lunch together. How many more signals do you need before you realize she’s treating you like a chump?

  You’re right, Viviana, but my heart is just having trouble believing what my eyes are telling it. I just don’t know what to do or think right now.

  I thought to myself, I’m going to have to really work on him.

  Well, if I were you, the first thing I’d do is change my Facebook status to single. Then I’d delete all the photos and videos of her off of my page.

  I just don’t unders
tand what I did wrong. Why is she doing this to me? he asked. I knew right then that he still had feelings for her in spite of what I’d just told him. So, I took a different approach.

  Would you like for me to spy on her for you? I asked. There was another long pause before he typed anything.

  Yes, he finally agreed.

  In-box me your cell number, and I’ll text you every time I hear or see something.

  Why are you doing this for me? he asked.

  Because I think you deserve a better girlfriend. One who is real and doesn’t play silly games. Like, if I were your girlfriend, you’d never have to worry about me even looking at another guy. I threw that out there just to see how he’d respond.

  As crazy as it sounds, I really do believe you, he wrote.

  And I wouldn’t be such a prude like Maya. I’d shower you with all kinds of affection. You’d never hear me say no to you, I replied, pouring it on.

  How do I know you won’t play me like Maya is? She is your cousin, right? he asked.

  Yeah, she’s my cousin, but that doesn’t mean we’re exactly alike. Maya and I are totally different from each other. I would never hurt you the way Maya has.

  Maya is going to reap what she sows. Now that I think about it, she has always mistreated me.

  Yeah. She and Keysha have probably been laughing at you behind your back all this time.

  I think you’re right again because Keysha has gone through a lot of guys. At least three that I know of, Misalo wrote, finding another point to agree on.

  You know, that old saying is true. Birds of a feather do flock together, I responded, proud at the way I was slinging mud.

  Thank you for being so real, he wrote.

  No problem, baby. I’m here for you anytime you need me, I declared.

  You called me baby. Is that a good thing? he asked.

  I don’t know. You tell me, I wrote, placing the ball back in his court.

  I think it could be a very good thing, he admitted. It was at that point I realized it would be only a matter of time before I had him eating out of the palm of my hand.

  I think you’re right, I replied.

  Can I get your phone number, as well? he asked.

  I’ll send it to your email address, I wrote.

  Cool. It’s been nice talking to you, he replied.

  Same here. I chuckled.

  Keep me posted on what Maya does, okay? he asked.

  Don’t worry. I got you, I reassured him.

  I’ll holla back at you later, he wrote, ending our conversation.

  I leaned back in my seat and smiled, not knowing whether to praise Jesus or thank the devil for allowing Misalo to listen to me. Either way, the war had begun, and Maya had no clue as to what was coming her way.

  Eight

  MAYA

  The next morning, I awoke to the roar of a motorcycle passing my house. I remained in bed, resting on my stomach and thinking about Misalo. After I’d come home from the mall yesterday, I called him several times, but he didn’t answer. I’d logged on to Facebook and forwarded a message to him there, as well, but got no answer. I was happy to see that the photos and videos of us were still up. However, I was disappointed by the number of in-box messages I’d gotten from boys who went to my school and who mentioned that they’d seen my photos and wanted to hook up with me. I’d then got mad with Misalo all over again for what he’d done. I’d decided that enough was enough and that I’d go to his house so we could work out our issues.

  I finally sat up and walked over to my clock radio, which was on top of my dresser. I turned it on, and Tyrese was singing his latest song about lovers who were going through a difficult time.

  “Sing, Tyrese,” I whispered aloud as I listened to the lyrics of his song, which seemed to speak directly to me. After the song ended, I walked toward the bathroom to freshen up. The door was closed, so I knocked.

  “I’m in here,” I heard Viviana shout out. I rolled my eyes and walked downstairs to use the bathroom on the lower level. I freshened up and then headed back upstairs to my bedroom to get dressed. Once I was done, I headed back downstairs and ran into my father.

  “Hi, Dad,” I said.

  “Good morning,” he greeted me. Dad looked as if he hadn’t gotten much sleep.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Uncle Herman’s allergies are bothering him,” Viviana said, approaching him with a box of allergy medicine. “I’m sorry, Uncle Herman, but I think you’re out of medicine.”

  “I’ll have to make a run to the pharmacy,” he said, sneezing and breathing through his mouth.

  “I’ll go with you,” Viviana quickly offered. “I can run back upstairs and change out of my pajamas really fast.”

  “Oh, hell no,” I muttered. First, she tries to take Misalo, and now she’s going to try to get close to my dad. I don’t think so.

  “I’ll go with you, Dad. I’m already dressed,” I said, moving toward him and taking his hand in my own. I started moving him away from Viviana. I had to let her know that my daddy was totally off-limits to her.

  “Viviana, do you want us to wait for you?” asked my father.

  I turned to face Viviana. I was sure she saw the fire in my eyes.

  “No. You guys go,” she said as she walked toward the family room.

  Now, in all honesty, I really didn’t want to go to the drugstore with my father. He certainly was capable of doing that all on his own. In my heart, I wanted to tell him to just go, but if I did that, his feelings would be hurt or he might get suspicious. So, I had to delay my confrontation with Misalo.

  My father and I drove to the local drugstore. He walked over to the personal care section to pick up razor blades, while I went and found his allergy medicine.

  As I was searching the shelf, someone came up behind me and said, “Hey, beautiful. We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

  Startled, I screamed.

  “Calm down,” Carlo said.

  “Boy, I swear, you’ve got to stop surprising me like that,” I griped.

  “My bad. How are you?” he asked.

  “I should be asking you that. I’m so sorry that Misalo attacked you. I didn’t expect him to do that,” I said.

  “Because of what he did, I lost my job,” Carlo explained.

  “Are you serious?” I asked, suddenly feeling horrible.

  “Yeah. The store manager got wind of the fight. When the mall cops kicked me out, I phoned the store to let the manager hear my side of the story. The manager brought all my belongings to the rear entrance of the store, handed them to me and fired me on the spot for what he called a mall brawl.”

  “That’s horrible. Did you explain to him that it was self-defense?” I asked.

  Shrugging his shoulders he said, “I tried, but it was no use. I really needed that job, too.”

  I felt so bad that I wanted to cry. I reached out and rubbed his arm, which was very muscular. “I’m so sorry,” I said, apologizing again. “I wish there were something I could do. Would it help if I contacted the store manager and explained what happened?”

  “I doubt it,” Carlo said, swinging his head back and forth. “Do you really want to know what would make me feel better?” he asked.

  “What?”

  Reaching forward and taking my hand in his own, he said, “Have lunch with me.”

  “I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea,” I said, looking around to make sure my father didn’t see us.

  “What? Is Misalo in here, too?” Carlo asked, searching around for him.

  “No,” I quickly said, “but my dad is.”

  “Oh,” Carlo responded, releasing my hand. “So, even after everything that went down, I’m not worthy of having a decent lunch with you?”
I could hear the disappointment in his voice.

  “Carlo, it’s not that. It’s just…” I looked into his eyes and found it difficult to say no to him. I sighed and said, “It’s just lunch and nothing more, right?”

  “That’s all. I just want to have lunch and talk. Is that cool?” he asked.

  “I guess, but we have to go someplace where no one will see us.”

  “I’m cool with that. Do you want me to come pick you up?” he asked.

  “No,” I quickly answered. “My father wouldn’t like that very much, especially since my little sister was poisoned at your house, and you’re older than me.”

  “Wow. I’m never going to live that one down, am I?” he asked.

  “Sorry. I don’t mean to keep throwing that in your face. I tell you what. Why don’t I meet you at Pizza Hut later on?” I suggested.

  “How much later?” he asked.

  “In about an hour. How does that sound?” I asked.

  “Can I get your phone number?” he asked.

  “Sure,” I said and gave it to him.

  “Cool. I’ll see you later on,” he said and walked away.

  I closed my eyes and exhaled. I convinced myself that it would be a harmless lunch date and that, once I did it, I wouldn’t feel guilty about Carlo losing his job over me. I told myself that I would be with him for only an hour, an hour and a half at the most. Then I’d go hunt down Misalo.

  When I got back home, Viviana, Anna and my brother, Paul, were sitting at the table, eating ice cream. I also noticed my mother was standing at the island counter, putting a scoop of black walnut ice cream in a bowl.

  “Make me a bowl, too, baby,” said my dad, who’d walked in behind me.

  “Isn’t that going off of your diet?” I asked playfully as I stood next to my mom.