by Dream Jordan
* * *
Our food came, smoking off the plate. I was about to dig in, but Percy grabbed the white cloth napkin from the table and told me to put it on my lap. “Oops, my bad,” I said, trying to play it off like I knew. If I wasn’t mistaken, Percy even shook his head at me.
Well, I wasn’t about to embarrass him anymore tonight, so as hungry as I was, I took small, dainty bites of the lasagna. It was delicious, but still, small, dainty bites … while Percy wolfed down his food.
Bianca came back to our table. “Is everything okay?” she asked Percy.
“Everything is fine,” said Percy. When he said “fine” he emphasized the word, as if he was referring to her. And when Bianca placed the check on our table, she flashed Percy one last googly-eyed smile, and said good-bye to him, barely acknowledging me.
Percy paid. We got up and headed for the exit. I spotted Bianca standing in the corner of the room. Before leaving, I flashed her my famous eye roll, and then sashayed behind Percy, holding my head high.
Once outside, Percy turned to me and said, “Let’s take a walk to the Promenade. Ever been there before?”
“No.”
“See?” began Percy, “there’s always a first time when you’re with me.”
* * *
As we walked down a quiet, cobblestone, tree-lined street, Percy asked, “So did you really enjoy dinner, or were you just gassing my head up?”
“No, it was really good,” I said. “Wish I could make lasagna.”
“I know how to make lasagna. It’s easy.”
“You can cook?” I asked, incredulous. I never met a guy who admitted being able to cook. I was impressed.
“Please … my mother had me in the kitchen as soon as I was tall enough to reach the stove.” Percy’s face darkened when he said this.
“Oh,” I said, feeling awkward. His mother, again. At least this time, he quickly recovered, thank goodness. And if he could recover so quickly, so could I. I pushed Bianca way in the back of my mind. Maybe I was being too sensitive anyway.
“Matter of fact, I can teach you how to make lasagna,” said Percy.
“Wow, really?” I had always wanted to play house with a guy I really liked: him cooking beside me, me washing dishes, him drying. I had all of these romantic scenes in my head and they were finally about to play out with Percy.
We sat on a bench facing the inky-black water, watching the small boats and big ships sail by. The Brooklyn Bridge loomed in the distance. The night summer breeze felt good on my skin. I was feeling so warm and fuzzy in the company of my man. Percy kept grabbing my hand and kissing it, telling me how much he was enjoying himself. I was in seventh heaven. I didn’t want the night to end. But as always … here comes the curfew countdown.
“Well, I have to go,” I said reluctantly.
Percy sighed, got up, and we walked to his car.
Once inside the car, Percy immediately went for my lips. We were parked on a quiet street, so no one was around to see us getting down. Percy was going hard, feeling me up all over, and making me feel so good, like he was yearning for me.
Then he stopped his lips short and told me to climb in the backseat. As I climbed, he reached out and tapped my behind. “Man, baby, you got it going on.”
Percy settled in beside me and we started going at it hot and heavy again. But when he started sucking ferociously on my neck, as good as it felt, I told him to stop.
“Why?” he asked, panting heavily.
“I don’t want a hickey,” I said, pushing his lips away.
Percy jerked his head back. “Black as you are?” he exclaimed. “Nobody’s going to see it.” He busted into chuckles, but then he noticed I wasn’t even cracking a smile.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” he asked. “You can’t take a joke?”
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to argue. I just looked away from Percy and stared out the window deep in thought.
For as long as I could remember, I had a complex about my dark skin, about not being model thin. “You’re pretty for a dark-skinned girl” was all I heard growing up. And just when I started saying to myself, “Bump the color-conscious clowns, I’m black and I’m beautiful,” now I had my doubts again.
Percy grabbed the bottom of my chin. “Why won’t you look at me?”
I had nothing to say.
“So you’re going to stay mad at me?”
“I’m not mad,” I lied.
When I wouldn’t budge on my brooding, Percy huffed, and climbed into the driver’s seat. I stayed seated in the back. So he drove me home like a cab driver. And when he tried to kiss me good-bye, I gave him my cheek instead of my lips. I left my rose inside his car on purpose.
YOU LEFT YOUR ROSE.
SORRY. I FORGOT IT.
SO IT DIDN’T MEAN ANYTHING TO YOU?
LIKE I SAID, I FORGOT IT. SAVE IT FOR ME.
IT’S ALREADY DEAD.
Chapter 20
Percy didn’t contact me for three days. I didn’t bother reaching out to him, either. I was still upset, and it’s never good to communicate when you’re upset. I wasn’t so sure if Percy’s words were reason enough to end our relationship, but I knew I was surely hurt by them.
As disappointed as I was, I had to admit: I missed Percy. Three whole days without him had dragged by like a year. I had gotten so used to Percy’s daily texts, checking up on his “baby.” I had gotten so used to Percy period, the first real boyfriend in my life.
So when Percy texted me three days later, I can’t even front, the butterflies revived inside my stomach; and his foul “hickey” comment flew right out the window like an annoying fly swatted far away from my mind.
Percy asked me if I could come over to his father’s apartment to learn how to make lasagna. Of course, I could, was my reply. So Percy ran down the meet-up plan. And I flew out the house anxious to see my man.
I was picked up at the Jay Street station. Percy passionately kissed me hello like we hadn’t seen each other in years. His usual intensity overpowered me so much, I leaned my head back in exhaustion after the kiss.
We drove to Pathmark to buy the lasagna ingredients. On the way, Trey Songz singing “You Belong to Me,” was pumping through the speakers, and Percy kept reaching over to caress my hand, while he steered his wheel with the other.
I felt so loved and adored.
When we stepped inside the brightly lit supermarket, my ecstatic feelings continued. We walked up and down the aisle searching for ingredients, giggling with each other, comparing prices; it felt like we were an old married couple. Shucks, I even pictured a baby girl riding inside of our shopping cart. I noticed women shooting wistful glances at us. I couldn’t blame them. We looked mad cute together.
Percy paid for everything, and kissed me on the cheek in front of the cashier. I felt so special. I can’t even begin to explain how special I felt.
We hopped back inside the car. Then Percy drove to DUMBO at breakneck speed. My heart was in my throat the whole time.
As soon as we walked inside Percy’s father’s apartment, he set down the bags and pressed me against the hallway wall. He tongued me down for ten minutes straight. His feverish need for me was so incredible. The way he held me in his arms so tightly, like he never wanted to let me go. I swear, it felt like any minute, he could get it. We shared so much earth-shaking passion between us; our chemistry was off the Richter scale. It was taking all of my might not to give in.
“Okay, baby,” said Percy, pulling himself together. “Let’s get it popping in the kitchen.”
“No doubt,” I replied, all giggly. “Show me the oven!”
First, Percy handed me a knife, an onion, and instructed me on how to chop it into shreds. My eyes were burning and watering like mad, so I said, “Cutting onions is not a game!”
“Yeah, that’s why I have you doing it.” Percy laughed.
“Aww, that’s not right,” I joked. “Why do I have to do all the dirty work?”
“Beca
use you’re the woman of the house,” said Percy, smiling. “That’s what you’re supposed to do.”
I chuckled slightly, but my eyes were not amused. I wiped a tear away.
Finally, I got through with the tortuous onions. Then Percy poured the chopped onions and ground beef into a pan. He boiled a box of noodles and when they were done, he showed me how to peel them off of each other by running cold water over them.
Everything was coming along nicely. The meat was simmering and smelling good. My stomach growled.
“Sounds like you got a rabid dog inside your tummy,” said Percy.
“I know, right?” I giggled.
Percy stood behind me as I followed his instructions, adding layers on top of layers of ricotta and mozzarella cheese. I was having so much fun.
Done with my duty, Percy grinned at me and said, “I see you’re a pro at this.”
“Oh, yes, I am.” I laughed and hugged him, feeling myself opening up to him even more. “Thanks for teaching me.”
“You’re welcome, Baby.” Percy kissed me, and then patted my behind.
* * *
The lasagna was lip-smacking delicious. I wanted seconds, but the other day Percy had made a comment about my weight. So I wasn’t about to reload my plate.
After we washed and dried the dishes, we lounged arm and arm on the couch.
“That was so good,” I said, “I can’t believe I just made lasagna.” I leaned my head against Percy’s chest.
“We just made lasagna,” corrected Percy. “We’re a team, remember?”
“True,” I said. “And now that I can actually cook, I’ll be one step ahead when I get to Green Hills.”
“What’s Green Hills?” he asked.
I explained the whole independent-living program and Percy looked so sad after I gave him the explanation.
He softly caressed my face and said, “Kate, if we work out, you won’t have to be moving to another facility. We could get our own place together.”
I thought Percy was joking, so I smirked.
“Wipe that silly look off your face. I’m serious. What? You don’t see us being together?”
“I do … but—”
“But what?” Percy interjected. “Don’t you know how much I love you?”
I just stared at him, dumbfounded.
“I love you,” repeated Percy, looking deeply into my eyes. This was my first time ever hearing these three words from a guy on the serious tip. I felt overwhelmed. Too overwhelmed to say the words back.
“Don’t you love me?” asked Percy.
I nodded, feeling rushed off my feet.
“I don’t read sign language, sweetheart. Do you love me?”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me you love me.”
“I love you.”
Boom. I said it. Now it was official.
Percy caressed my face. “I’m giving you all that I have … so please don’t play me.” His eyes were blazing with full concentration on me.
“I won’t play you,” I said. He squeezed my hand tightly, and stared at me deeply.
Percy’s intensity was almost ruining this beautiful moment.
“Kate, I don’t think you understand how much I care about you,” Percy pressed on.
“I do understand.”
“Then act like you know, sweetheart. Don’t look so afraid about what I’m saying to you.”
Percy grabbed my chin and brought my face close to his. First, he he kissed me gently on my mouth, suckled my bottom lip, and then he kissed with so much force and passion, I melted into him. My body drifted away from my mind. I was burning inside. I matched his tongue movements stroke for stroke, even threw my arms around his neck and held on to him mad tight.
“So, when can I make love to you?” Percy whispered in my ear.
My arms dropped away from his neck. Here we go again.
“I don’t know … soon,” I said.
“How soon?”
Obviously, he wasn’t going to stop questioning me about it, so I had to think of a bulletproof excuse. “Percy … trust me … I want you, too … but you already know it’s illegal for us to have sex … because of our age difference—”
“And?” he interrupted.
“And I don’t want you going to jail over me.”
Percy jerked his head back. “You plan on telling somebody?”
“No.”
“Okay, then, what are you saying?”
“Percy … please don’t take this personal.… I’m just not ready.… It has nothing to do with you.”
“Listen, just forget it,” he snapped.
And just like before, Percy looked mad disappointed. Without a word, he got up and went into the bedroom. He stayed in there for a while. And then he took a trip to the bathroom. Then he went into the kitchen, walking around aimlessly, opening cabinets and closing them with a bang.
He had left me on the couch, sitting there like, duh? What just happened? But I wasn’t about to follow him around like a lost little puppy. I knew in my heart I was in the right. He was in the wrong. Real love waits for sex, point-blank period.
I sat in my spot self-righteously until Percy returned to me. When he finally came back, he clicked on the television, and pulled me up into his lap, like nothing had happened.
I blinked. A brand-new Percy. Just like that.
He started massaging my back. Then he reached down and removed my sandals and began rubbing my stubby unpolished toes; even more confirmation that he had to love me. I’m saying, who does that?
“Feels nice,” I said, in ecstasy.
“I can make you feel even better … if you let me.”
Just then, my phone rang in my pocket. I was about to ignore the call, but Percy told me to answer it. Before answering, I was about to get up from Percy’s lap, but he pulled me back down. So I answered from where I sat.
“Hey, Kate … I need to talk to you,” blurted Felicia.
“Who’s that?” Percy asked.
I was hoping Felicia didn’t hear Percy. Apparently, she did because she said, “Oh, you’re with him now.”
“Yeah,” I said. Then I took the phone away from my mouth and whispered to Percy, “It’s Felicia.”
“Tell her you’re with your man right now.”
When I got back on the phone, I told Felicia I had to go.
“Oh,” she said. I could tell she was holding back words.
Click.
Just in case she tried to call me again, I secretly pushed the “off” button on my Pearl; I had to do it slick. Didn’t want Percy getting suspicious over why I had to turn off my phone.
After that fiasco, nine o’clock rolled around. I told Percy I had to go.
“Damn, Kate, I really wish you could stay with me all night.”
“Me, too,” I said.
“I mean, we don’t have to have sex. I just want to hold you in my arms all night.”
“Yeah, that would be nice.”
“So then, let’s make it happen.”
“Okay, I’ll try.”
“You’ll try?” asked Percy. “That doesn’t sound so convincing.”
“Okay, I will,” I stated firmly. I didn’t want to upset Percy again.
“When?”
“Soon,” I said, vaguely. “I promise … real soon.”
Luckily, I really had to go, so he didn’t press me further.
Chapter 21
Bright and early in the morning, Belinda called for me from downstairs. “You have a visitor,” she announced.
Oh really? I thought. Who could it be? I knew Percy wouldn’t risk getting me into trouble. I was mystified. When I got downstairs, Belinda nodded her head toward the door, which was cracked halfway open. I hesitantly made my way to the threshold, and boom, there was Felicia, standing on the porch, looking nervous and fidgety. She wore a bright yellow T-shirt, black yoga pants, her favorite busted yellow sneakers, and she was holding a manila envelope close to her chest.
&
nbsp; “Sorry I came unannounced,” she began, “but you refuse to return my calls.”
I paused, still taken aback by her presence. “Um, I been real busy,” I finally managed to say, feeling bad for dodging my best friend all this time.
“Well, I just came to give you this,” she said, handing me the envelope. “My mother is parked a few cars down. So I can’t stay long.”
Dang, she even had her mother bring her here? I scanned the street and sure enough, three cars down, I spotted Felicia’s mother sitting in their shiny black SL550 Benz.
“What is this about?” I asked, apprehensively staring at the envelope.
“You’ll see,” said Felicia. “Just don’t open it until I leave, please.”
My goofy, loveable homegirl was now acting so cold and businesslike toward me; it was hard to take.
“Well, alrighty then,” I began, slowly. “So, um, can I call you later?”
“Of course you can,” said Felicia. “That’s why I’m here. I need to talk to you.”
“Okay, but really … I meant to call you back.… I just been mad busy.”
“Okay, Kate,” said Felicia. “Whatever you say.”
Felicia’s mother tapped the horn twice. Felicia’s cue to go. Good, because I felt the tension thickening in the air between us.
Felicia gave me a stiff hug good-bye and reminded me to call her.
“I will,” I promised.
But once I was locked safely inside the bathroom, and ripped open the envelope, I wasn’t sure when I’d be calling that fool.
I sat on the tub’s edge, and muttered, “Is she serious right now?” as I laid eyes on an Abuse Facts Sheet, five pages long. I couldn’t believe Felicia had really taken it there. But like a car wreck you can’t look away from, my eyes gravitated toward some of the warning signs, including: frequent check-ins on a mate’s whereabouts, bursts of bad temper, name calling and put-downs, controlling the way one dresses, eats, talks.… I couldn’t read any further. None of these warning signs really applied to Percy. But then again …
I blocked the words out my head. I ripped the sheets to shreds, balled up the scraps, and made a three-point shot into the bathroom’s garbage can.