by Desirée
I felt my face slowly scrunch up as I let the tears break free. Leaning forward on the dashboard, I cried hard.
“Aye, fuck that nigga, Jade! Don’t waste yo’ tears over someone like that! Nigga don’t know shit about you, never tried to even get to know you like that. You were the one that changed for that nigga! I bet he don’t even know what the fuck yo’ favorite color is, or what you like to eat.”
“Or yo’ favorite movie,” KD threw in.
“The Breakfast Club,” they all chimed in before laughing.
I sat up, wiping my face, trying not to laugh.
“Nigga never did shit for you but tell you about yo’ self and make you hang out with his friends. Make you dress a certain way so you could look good next to him. Bruh!” Chris snapped, looking back at Mo and KD. “You know how many niggas hit me up on a regular, asking about her ass? None of these niggas is scared of Trent or his brothers. They still want to snatch you away from him.”
“No they don’t,” I said, wiping my eyes as more tears came down.
Without warning, all three of them reached in and hugged me hard and cussed me out at the same damn time.
“Aye! You are a beautiful woman who is stupid talented with the paintbrush and pencil. You—”
“Do he even know you do art, Jade?” Mo retorted.
I shook my head no, still locked in their embrace.
“Nigga lost out; not you, mama,” Chris cooed, kissing me on the side of the head. “Let that nigga go. He ain’t doing nothing but dragging you down. He don’t appreciate what he has, so let him go fuck with that bitch then. Shit, help that nigga out and cut him loose so he can fuck around with whoever while you move on to better things. You feel me?”
“Yeah,” I mumbled, wiping my eyes as I looked at my three boys. My amigos. “I swear I love y’all more than you will ever know.”
“Ahhh!” they all let out, hugging me harder as I laughed.
“Love yo’ mean ass too, shawty,” KD said, rubbing my locs. “Fuck that nigga, bruh, real talk. Nigga was slick gay anyway.”
* * *
Back in my room, I took a shower, still crying, still replaying the scene of him kissing that girl like he was in love with her. He never kissed me like that. Never. I almost forgot he was supposed to be on his way over, because I ended up lying in the bed, crying to myself, ignoring that nagging knock on the door, until I heard Tia answer it, going off on him in the process.
“My bad,” I could hear him say before walking to my room. Opening the door slowly, he came in, keeping the lights off as he slipped out of his clothes and lay in the small bed next to me, wrapping his arm around my waist.
“You ’sleep, Jade?” he whispered, kissing my shoulder.
I cringed, more silent tears coming down.
“Jade?”
“What, Trent?” I mumbled in a shaky voice.
He sat up quick, popping the lamp light on, and leaned over to see my face. His hazel eyes were wide in horror and shock.
“Shit,” he hissed as he quickly got up to get on my side of the bed, bending down to eye level to look at me. “What’s wrong? What happened, baby?”
I just stared at him, wiping my eyes. “Don’t worry about it—”
“I ain’t never seen you cry before, and you telling me not to worry about it? Did someone say something? Are you hurt?” he asked, checking underneath the covers like that was the cause of all my pain.
I stayed quiet, just looking at the man I thought I was falling for—beautiful, perfect face with those eyes that could melt your heart.
“Jade, baby, talk to me,” he pleaded, trying to look concerned. “You not pregnant, are you?”
“No.” I barely mumbled the response.
He took his thumb, wiping the fresh tears as his face furrowed in confusion and uncertainty. “I can’t really handle you crying on me, Jade. I’m not sure how to take this shit right now. Seeing you like this,” he said softly. “Can you please tell me what’s wrong, baby? Did I—”
“What’s my favorite movie, Trent?” I asked.
His eyes grew wide, mouth slightly open, like he was searching for the answer. “I . . . uh . . . I don’t know,” he admitted.
“My major? What I want to do in life? Do you know?” I asked, and he shook his head no. Unbelievable. I knew everything about this man. Everything and more. He didn’t even know why we were going to the same damn school.
I slowly got up from the bed and went into the closet, grabbing my giant canvas book to hand to him. It held my paintings, pencil work, photography, everything. I watched him go through the book in awe, and then he looked at me, smiling.
“You did these, baby?” he asked, sounding shocked.
I nodded. “I’ve been working with my professor so I can have an art show in the spring,” I said softly. “My first show in Atlanta.”
“Aye, this is beautiful,” he said, looking at one in particular.
“Thank you.”
He looked up at me as we locked eyes, just staring.
“What?” I asked.
“Why were you crying, Jade?” he pressed again in a serious tone. “You never do that. What’s wrong?”
I slowly smiled, thinking I was going to let him hang himself before completely ending it. He was so used to me popping off at the mouth and talking shit constantly. Not anymore. All I saw now when I looked at him was that girl, him kissing and touching up on her like they’d been together for years. If that was the kind of girl he wanted to be with, be seen with, and have everyone like, then I’d let him get to it, nigga. I would take my leave, but not before giving him hell for the next few days before cutting him loose.
“Nothing is wrong, Trent,” I said, wiping my face one last time. “Just having a girl moment is all.”
Welp
Noelle
“So, you haven’t heard from him since?” Layla asked as her, Tyree, and I sat in the living room late Friday night. It was going on a week since that violent incident had occurred. He hadn’t texted me, or called, or come over. I hadn’t seen him since, and we lived right next door to each other.
“I haven’t,” I answered, looking at my nails. It was supposed to be girls’ night out, but clearly, we weren’t doing any of that. Waiting on the pizza that we ordered, we sat in tattered clothes, basically bumming it out on the couch, with two of Tyree’s friends on their way to my place to join in on the men bashing. I sat in basketball shorts that I was just now realizing were Shiloh’s, and a shirt that had my church from back home on it. My hair was hanging freely, nowhere near done. I felt like a fucking wreck on the inside and looked like one on the outside.
Even after witnessing everything for myself, I had still told the police I didn’t know who the guys were, and I felt awful about lying. Yet, here I was thinking I was going to get an explanation from Shiloh, but nothing. Not even a text message to see if I was okay. Aunt Alice had been knocked out to the point where her memory was completely gone, and the kids were too terrified to speak. They reported what they saw, but they each had their own version of the story, giving the police nothing to work from. The guys in the house said nothing, and whoever Lee’s friend was ended up being shot directly in the head as he was walking out of his house two days later. Just the thought of Shiloh killing someone made me cringe in regret that I had even entertained his crazy ass.
“Hellooooo,” Tyree waved, throwing one of my pillows at me as he smirked, drink in his hand. “Bitch, you stay daydreaming. Why don’t you just call him?”
“And say what, Tyree? Hmmm? You were going to let your brother rape me? I saw you pull a gun on someone?” I questioned, thinking back to how he and I had first met. I could feel tears start to come down. I should have known he was off his fucking rocker to begin with when he pulled that stunt with me.
“Honey, I told you those brothers are not to be played with. Hell, Trell used to stay being caught up in some mess when we first met.”
“Have you spoken to him?�
�� Layla asked as Tyree rolled his eyes, rubbing his bald head while sipping his wine, sitting there in a small T-shirt and even shorter shorts.
“Chile, no. I hear he’s been trying to get my new number, though, from some of my clients. I told them, ‘If y’all love me, you won’t give my ex-boyfriend the number, no matter how much he tries to pay you.’ Nigga lost his damn mind, talking about, ‘I’ll be back.’ Yeah, I miss him, but I don’t miss having to worry about who he’s sleeping with and who he’s talking to on the phone, with me trying to listen for a bitch’s voice. He wasn’t ready for a relationship.”
“How can you be with someone who’s like that? Who’s so . . . violent and—”
“Noelle, you are going to have to toughen up, boo boo.” Tyree laughed. “Trell never put his hands on me in a violent way, never threatened me, and never let nobody fuck with me. Yeah, they are rough as fuck, but as long as that shit isn’t directed towards you, I don’t see the problem.”
“Mm-hmm,” Layla chimed in.
My mouth dropped as I looked at them. I couldn’t believe they were condoning this.
“I’m still a little mad you didn’t get a chance to test that dick game out,” Layla said.
“Biiitch! You too?” Tyree laughed as they slapped hands. “Girl, I’ve been wondering about Shiloh’s fine ass since he first got out of prison. I was like, please let this man be into niggas too, because I will gladly cheat on Trell for Shiloh. I was hoping his fine ass got turnt out.”
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” I mumbled as they continued, alcohol definitely influencing the conversation.
“Shit, I was telling her that he probably can eat, stroke, and pound like a champion! Like, bam!” Layla let out, standing up as she twerked. “Have a bitch looking back at it like, ooooh-wee!”
“Hold up, trick. Let me show you how Shiloh looks like he get down,” Tyree said, getting up and lying flat on the carpet. He began grinding slowly, humping the air with one leg up as Layla screamed.
“Yes, baby! Yaaaaas!” she said as they laughed.
I tried my hardest not to smile, but I could see why Shiloh didn’t like staying over here when Tyree was here. He was too much.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Tyree got up to answer it, letting in two girls who had drinks in their hands. One of them was pregnant like she was about to pop, and the other looked like she ran her mouth too much, like Layla.
“Welcome! Welcome! I was just telling them how we think Shiloh be having sex, how he be stroking,” Tyree said, and they laughed. “Niya and Tiffany, meet Noelle and Layla. My work bitches meeting my ride-or-die hoes.”
Once the greetings were out the way and everyone became comfortable with each other, the drinks were passed around to everyone, minus Tiffany, since she was pregnant. Somehow the topic of me not having sex with Shiloh continued to come up. It seemed like everyone wanted to know what he was like, not caring that I was still traumatized over this past weekend.
“Well, before you cut that nigga off completely, you need to go ahead and fuck him one good time. You know how many girls would kill to be with that nigga?” Tiffany asked, rubbing her belly as I rolled my eyes.
“She don’t even realize how good she got it,” Tyree said, shaking his head. “I be telling her all the time that he don’t do that girlfriend shit, so you know he really liked her.”
“Whatever. I don’t do killers and convicts,” I mumbled just as Tyree’s phone blared loudly on the coffee table, showing an unknown number.
“Who the fuck is this calling me from . . . probably one of these sorry-ass females in Atlanta, calling me from a house phone, trying to get done up for a club. Honey, I don’t do fashion charity,” he groaned, answering the phone as he clicked speaker. “Hello?”
“So, you changed yo’ number on me, nigga?”
Tyree’s face dropped as we all looked at each other, hearing the voice. I recognized it immediately as the one who’d had his hand over my mouth. Tyree’s face quickly softened up, and for the first time, the always overly confident, bald-headed gay man I knew him to be looked vulnerable, weak, and afraid to even respond. I’d never seen him like this, but Niya took the phone, seeing Tyree was too shocked to speak.
“Why are you calling him?” Niya asked. “He said he was done. You should be happy now that you got a chance to sleep around without hurting his feelings in the process. Go back to being a ho and leave my nigga alone.”
“Niya, get the fuck off the phone and put him back on—”
“You’re on speaker!” Layla called out.
“Who the fuck is—”
“Do it matter?” Tiffany chimed in.
“How many of y’all is it? Like, damn! I’m trying to talk to him in private!”
“Tyree, do you want to talk to him?” I asked softly, seeing his eyes about to water up as he shook his head no. He was quiet as a mouse. Unbelievable.
“He said he ain’t trying to talk to you,” Niya said.
Trell sighed. “Ty, please don’t do this to me,” he begged softly. “Why you got me on speaker for all these fuck bitches to hear?”
“Who you callin’ a bitch?” we all shrieked at the same time before laughing. We definitely weren’t going to make it easy for him.
“Whatever you gotta say to him, you can say it to all of us, because guess what, Ontrell? Every time you fucked him over, he came running to us, crying about yo’ sorry ass, so you owe us all some type of an apology, explanation, and another apology just because we don’t like yo’ dog ass,” Niya snapped. I wished I had a friend like that.
“Can he hear me at least?” Ontrell asked.
We looked at Tyree, who kept his gaze to the carpet, stuck on sad.
“He can hear you,” I said.
“You got a nigga freaking out right now. I thought you would have . . . I don’t know . . . called me or something, but I gotta find out you changed yo’ number on me? Why won’t tell me where you staying at? And you still won’t come home?” he asked, voice getting weak.
“I’m sorry, Tyree. You know I am. We got two years of being together. Why you trying to leave me after all that we been through? I don’t even know how to fucking function without you, bae. I woke up the other night sick as fuck, and I’m so used to you knowing what to do, telling me what medicine to take and nursing a nigga back to health, but I . . . I don’t . . . can you come home, please?” he begged, voice shaking.
I felt my eyes watering up. I started to fan my face, keeping the tears from escaping, seeing the other girls were shaking their heads. Tiffany wiped her eyes, while Layla went to comfort Tyree, who started to cry.
“Ontrell, Ty isn’t saying anything right now,” Niya said softly.
“Is he still there?” he asked.
Tyree looked at the phone. “I’m here,” he answered, voice cracking.
“Come home, Ty. Please come back home. I can’t sleep by myself, I can’t eat, I can’t fucking think without you,” Trell begged.
I heard the sounds of a familiar car engine from afar. Shiloh was home. He should have been over here begging for my forgiveness like his younger brother.
“I’m done, Trell. I’m so done. I can’t let you put me through the same shit you been doing again—”
“I learned my lesson! I’m done with it. I’m done talking to these bitches and fucking around. None of them can replace what you and I have.”
Tyree got up and grabbed the phone. “What we had, nigga,” he corrected before hanging up and turning it off altogether.
“That’s what the fuck I’m talking about!” Niya cheered. She went to hug him, but he pushed her away.
“Don’t do that. I still love that nigga more than I love life itself,” he snapped, wiping his eyes. “Shit, we need to go out tonight. And I’m not talking about no local-ass teen club or dry-ass lounge. I want something that is turnt the fuck up before we get there. I ain’t got a nigga holding me back, and all y’all bitches single as hell, so let’s
go.”
I groaned, not wanting to leave the house. I was comfortable, and it was cold outside. I didn’t feel like stepping out. “Y’all can go ahead,” I said, waving them off.
Tyree pursed his lips, taking my hand and yanking me off my seat.
“I don’t want to go!” I laughed with a whine.
“Bitch, you already done fucked up with me by not having sex with Shiloh before you decided to cut him off.”
“I didn’t cut him off! He hasn’t called me!”
“Maybe he’s waiting on you to call him,” Layla suggested.
I rolled my eyes. It was amazing how they stuck up for him because he had a dick that they themselves wanted. Unbelievable.
“Look, we not about to worry about it no more. As far as I know,” Tyree started, hand on his chest as he looked at all of us, “we are the finest mothafuckas in Atlanta. We are single, sex game is on point, and we deserve it with all this shit we been through. Let’s get out this damn depressing-ass house.”
“Hey!” I chimed in, but he waved me off. “My house isn’t depressing. It’s the people.”
“Let’s go fuck some shit up!” he continued, stepping onto the couch, drink raised in the air as we looked at this fool. “Let’s go take these fuck niggas of Atlanta for everything they got!”
“Whooo!” Niya screamed in agreement. “Preach!”
“We are young, fine as shit. We don’t, and will never, settle for anything less!” Tyree screamed out as they all cheered him on.
I stood there, arms crossing over my chest, trying to resist the power of the turn-up speech. I had a sour facial expression.
“I’ve been living in Atlanta long enough to know that when all else fails?” he screamed out in anticipation. “Nigga, y’all turning the fuck up!”
“Amen!” Tiffany screamed as they laughed.
I shook my head with a smile before walking back toward my room.
“Where you going, chocolate? Don’t fight it, boo!” Tyree laughed as I waved him off.
“I’m about to find me an outfit!”
“Aye! Now we got Noelle prude ass on one! Leh go!” Tyree shouted. “Turn that radio on. Let’s see where all the parties at in the city tonight.”