by Amour
“My phone. I need the time.”
“Almost four,” he told me.
I got up and got in the shower. He came in and flushed the condom down the toilet and washed off his dick at my sink. Sex with him was so different. It was like I was a different person. I felt weird, but I liked it.
I found him pulling the sheets off of my bed when I got out of the shower.
“Where you want me to put these?” he asked while balling them up.
Yeah, Omar was way different from the rest. I had never pillow talked, nor had anyone taken my sheets off the bed for me.
“Just put them on the floor. I’ll get ’em.”
Omar had to go back to the block, but he promised that we would do something later. I wrapped my towel around me and walked him to the door. He kissed me on the forehead before he left, and I shut the door behind him.
I peeked out my window to see what kind of whip he was pushing. It was nothing special. He was driving a black Charger with no tinted windows and no rims. They all can’t ball, I thought.
I ran up the stairs to get dressed, and then I ran back down to look for my phone. Finally, I found it on the couch. I grabbed my keys, and I was out the door and on my way to pick Crystal up from school. I decided I would tell Treecy about my new boo. When I went to dial her number, I saw that I had four missed calls from Cliff and a voice mail. I instantly called to see what he had to say.
“Look, Angel, I don’t know what you call yourself doing, but if this has anything to do with that one incident between us, I’m sorry. I don’t know what it is about you, but my feelings are growing and I really want us to be together. Give me a call.”
I was confused. That situation had happened almost a month ago, and although we hadn’t talked as much since then, I didn’t see why he was bringing it up. He apologized a million times for it. He had told me he was drunk that night and, now that he had these feelings for me that he couldn’t control.
I believed him. He hadn’t put his hands on me since that incident, and I was happy that he wanted to take care of my sister and me. I just hated depending on people, because I liked having my own stuff. This good dick source that I had recently discovered . . . there was no way I could let it go.
I called Treecy, like I had intended to do in the first place, and I told her every detail there was to tell.
She just kept asking, “Are you for real?”
I asked myself that question, too, because that little boy wasn’t little at all. “I lost my job too.” I hadn’t really faced the fact that it was gone up until now. What was I going to do?
“Damn them nosey-ass paparazzi bitches,” she said.
I knew she felt bad for me, but she couldn’t help me.
I pulled into Crystal’s school parking lot. “I meant to tell you that Cliff wants me to go to ATL with him, but . . .” I paused.
“But you’re not about to do that dumb shit . . . are you? He hit you once. He’ll do it again,” Treecy preached.
“All right, boo. I’m about to get Crystal. I’ll call you when I get out of here.” I didn’t feel like hearing it, so I ended our call. I dreaded going to get my sister more than anything. They acted as if we were coming to get criminals. All the shit you had to go through. Signing them out, physically going in the class to get them, checking in at the desk once you got them, and then you could leave.
After the thirty minute process, we were out of the school and in the car.
“How was school?” I asked, looking at her in the backseat.
“Okay. I’m tired,” she stated through yawns.
I smiled and shook my head. She was only eight, but she acted like she was grown.
After my mother was diagnosed with the cancer, she wasn’t able to really take care of Crystal. Although she still had legal custody of her, she asked me to take care of her, because she didn’t feel that she could care for her alone. I agreed. It didn’t seem like my mother really liked her, anyway.
Crystal and I shared the same mother and father. Our mother was Teresa Gable, a teen mom who was looking for love in all the wrong places. She met my dad, Albert Jacobs, at a club that she had no business being at. He had a woman that he had been with for years. The woman’s name was Sarah. My mother knew about her. She was just young and dumb, and she thought she could take him from Sarah. When my mother discovered she was pregnant with me, she just knew my dad would be all hers. Little did she know, having a child by him was the worst thing she could have done.
At first he showered her with gifts, sneaking her out of the house and spending time with her. When she got knocked up by him, she didn’t hear from him until she delivered me. He would come by just to see what I looked like, and when he did, he felt I resembled him, yet he still wanted a blood test. When the results came back that I was certainly his, he started coming around a little more, but nowhere near enough. He didn’t speak to me or anything when he came by. It was always at night when he surfaced. They would make me go to bed so he could fuck her, and then he’d be out like he was never there.
My mother would always shed tears because of him, not believing that she was the one to blame. She allowed him to walk all over her. She was overprotective of me at first, but a little after my sister was born, when I turned about fifteen, she started treating me like shit. It was weird because I didn’t remember her even being pregnant with Crystal. I guess she hid it good.
My father went to jail soon after Crystal was born. I didn’t know why, but I did know he had a long bid to do. I didn’t know if he’d been released or if he was still incarcerated. Either way it went, I didn’t give a damn, because he never gave a fuck about me or my sister. Hell, I wouldn’t even know the man if I saw him.
When I got to the house, Crystal was asleep in the backseat. I carried her in and took her upstairs to her room. After I tucked her in bed, I decided to give our mom a call. After a few rings, she answered with an attitude.
“Yes, Angel?” she said through the phone.
“How you feeling, Teresa?” I gave her an attitude back.
“Good, and you? Have you been taking your meds like you’re supposed to?” she asked. She was very concerned.
I just shook my head. I hated when she asked me about those damn pills. There wasn’t anything wrong with me, so I didn’t think I needed to take them. I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I took them.
“I guess that’s a no,” she said.
“Mom, I don’t need them.”
“Angel, you have a problem, and you don’t act normal without them. You need to take them,” she instructed. “If you’re not going to take them, send Crystal back.”
“You’re not in any condition to take care of her. You barely can take care of yourself.” She must be crazy.
“And if you ain’t taking them damn pills, then neither are you!” she yelled.
I pressed the END button on my phone. I was done listening to her fuss. I really didn’t know why I had even called. We argued every single time we spoke. I went upstairs to get the pills that I should have been taking for almost eight years now. I opened the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and grabbed the bottles. Abilify and Lithium were prescribed to me years ago.
I was fifteen when I was diagnosed with this bullshit. I couldn’t recall everything that led up to me being bipolar. Maybe I just didn’t believe it. I mean, would you? No one knew about my diagnosis. Not even Tiffany. I felt they had no reason to. I hated for somebody to judge me. If they knew I was bipolar, every time I flipped out, they would assume it was the disorder taking its toll. Another reason was that I didn’t think I had a problem.
I hadn’t taken the medicine daily, like it was prescribed, in over ten years, and I was doing just fine. I hadn’t harmed a soul, but I was the crazy one? I couldn’t stand my mom for making me feel that I was going crazy all this time.
I opened both of the bottles and poured all the pills in the toilet. After both bottles were empty, I flushed the toilet. I wa
sn’t going to take them, anyway, so there was no point in storing them in my medicine cabinet.
Chapter 6
Octavia, one of my friends, had thrown a party because her parents had gone out of town. Any drugs or bottle of liquor a teenager could want was there. At this time in my life, I was in love with Grey Goose and weed. I was drunk and high.
I never thought of myself as the prettiest girl, but the guys thought otherwise. I was light skinned and had shoulder-length hair. I stood five foot five inches, and had Chinky brown eyes. I was a stick figure. I weighed 110 pounds. When it came to fashion, I was a plain Jane type of girl.
Growing up as the only child for fifteen long years was lovely. My mother spoiled me with her love and attention. Although my father came over all the time, we never spoke. It didn’t really bother me, because my mother made up for the loss. My father always wore a baseball cap and big sunglasses to cover his eyes, even in the winter. He was about six-two. He was very tall if you asked me, and he was a slender guy with a beer belly and a deep voice.
The last time I saw him was right before I went to Octavia’s party. I was taking a nap, and when I woke up, he was leaving my room. I rubbed my eyes to make sure they weren’t playing tricks on me, but he was already gone by then. I knew that before I fell asleep, I had been covered up. Now my covers were on the floor. I looked down at my pants, and they were a little crooked. I sat there in deep thought, wondering why things were in disarray. After looking at the clock and seeing that the party was about to start, I hopped out of bed and walked across the hall to the bathroom to freshen up. After I was done with that, I called Octavia to see how the party was doing.
When she picked up, it was very loud in the background. I heard music and people. “I was calling to see what was going on, but I can hear for myself,” I said and giggled.
“Yeah, hurry up. Mike keep asking about you,” she told me.
“Okay,” I said before I hung up the phone.
I was already dressed, so all I had to do was tell my mom where I was headed. She was sitting on the couch, smoking a Newport, while my father was nowhere in sight. I told my mother that I was going over to Octavia’s for a study party. For that reason, she said I could go.
My mother was a very pretty, light-skinned lady. She used to have a nice shape, but stress and life had made her lose her figure and damn near her mind. We weren’t poor, didn’t live in the hood or the projects. We lived comfortably. Comfortably meant that we could afford our lifestyle. We were like best friends at one point in time, until one day I started feeling like she hated my guts. I didn’t know what I had done or even if I had done anything. I just learned to stay out of her way, and my life ran much smoother.
After she gave me permission to go, I called my friend Tiffany. She lived across the street from me, and we decided it was best that we walk to the party together. Tiffany was Mexican, and she was fast as can be when it came to boys. She was the youngest out of five girls, and I always thought she was trying to keep up with her sisters. She would tell me that she was still a virgin, but that was far from the truth. I let her think that I believed her, although she had to be a fool to think that. Either way it went, she was the closest thing I had to a best friend, so I never judged her.
After we hung up, we met each other outside. She was with her cousin, Nicole, so all three of us made our way to the party. I couldn’t wait to get there and be with Mike. He wasn’t my boyfriend, but he had taken my virginity, so he was valuable in my life.
“Girl, I know it’s going to be some niggas up in there,” Nicole said. I guess being boy crazy ran in their family.
“I ain’t even thinking about a nigga. I’m trying to get high,” Tiffany said. Tiffany and I had developed this obsession and a need for weed. We had tried it a few times with her sister Jamie before we got hooked on it.
Octavia opened the door with open arms. She was smiling from ear to ear as she gave each of us hugs. We smiled and then walked into her house. There were people everywhere. My eyes searched the house for Mike, and I found him cuddled up with Lindsey Price. I smacked my lips and rolled my eyes. I was ready to go already.
Tiffany grabbed my arm.
“Girl, fuck him. You ain’t come here just for him, anyway,” she said, making a lot of sense.
I sighed and shook my head, letting her know that she was right. Octavia stopped in front of us.
“Y’all want something to drink, a blunt, a seat?” She laughed.
We all followed her to the kitchen, where the drinks were being poured and served. I got a full glass of Goose. Nicole kept telling me that I was drinking too much, but under the circumstances, I needed it.
The whole night, Mike was all over Lindsey, like I wasn’t even present. I was hurt and feeling sick, but I couldn’t let them see me down. I went to the patio, where a few guys were smoking a blunt. I sat down so that they would know that I wanted to partake in what they were doing. One of the guys was Davon, a popular guy in school. He was Mike’s best friend and was the running back for the school football team.
“You sure you want to hit this?” he asked. His light skin gleamed under the patio light. He was cute, but he wasn’t quite my type. I nodded my head as he passed me the blunt. I inhaled it and exhaled it. I took one more hit before I passed it to the boy who sat to the right of me. Whatever kind of weed they were smoking, it was strong.
I instantly started feeling a little different. I was thinking of Mike and how he was better off dead, Lindsey too. The blunt made its way back to me, and I puffed it twice again, then passed it. My vision became a little cloudy, and I couldn’t feel my hands. I decided that it was best that I went back into the party. I went to go find Tiffany. It seemed as if there were a million people there. I could hardly see their faces or hear their voices. I looked for Tiffany for about an hour before I decided to give up.
All of a sudden my bladder got full. I rushed up the stairs and into the bathroom. I barely got my shorts down, but I managed. I sat down, and it felt as if I had held my bladder for days. The urine just wouldn’t stop coming out. When it finally stopped, I hurried and wiped myself. There was a loud thud on the bathroom door, startling me. I moved slowly as I stood up and pulled my panties and shorts up. Paranoid, I slowly walked up to the door. I was afraid to know who it was.
“Hey, hurry up! A nigga gotta piss.” It was Mike’s voice.
I calmed down and opened the door. He smiled as he pushed me back into the bathroom. He closed the door behind us, and I never said anything about what had happened earlier, although I wanted to. My mouth just couldn’t let the words escape.
“You been smoking?” he asked while grabbing my face and staring into my eyes. I wanted to say yes, but I just couldn’t. “Angel, have you been smoking?” he asked, repeating his question.
I managed to nod my head.
“With who? Not Davon, was it?”
Still, the words wouldn’t come out, so I nodded again. I wanted so badly to speak, but it was like my mouth was glued shut. He threw the door open and ran down the stairs. I didn’t know what was going on. The room was spinning, and I was in a standstill mode.
I closed my eyes and sat down. I couldn’t stand this feeling much longer. Tiffany and Octavia came running up the stairs. They kept asking me if I was okay. I didn’t see what all the fuss was about. All I did was smoke a blunt and drink some Goose. I did that all the time.
I couldn’t answer them, nor could I move. I just felt my body press up against the bathroom floor, and I kept my eyes closed. I heard Octavia tell Tiffany that Davon had laced the weed. It was like she was saying I had gotten a Mickey slipped to me. My brain couldn’t register all of what she was saying. I stopped caring about what she was talking about.
They picked me up off the floor and carried me into Octavia’s room. They put me in the bed, left me there, and shut the door. Lying there, I kept seeing dragons fly across the room. I was scared for my life. I gripped the covers tightly. Moments later
the door was flung open and in walked Mike. He sat down on the bed. He began rubbing my hair while shaking his head. He kept telling me that I was going to be okay and that he would always love me. I continued to watch the dragons fly.
He began kissing me and touching me. I remembered him repeatedly saying he was sorry. I started kissing him back, holding his face. I was horny as ever. I pulled his shirt over his head, and then he stopped me.
“Naw, Angel, I can’t,” he told me. I ignored what he was saying and continued trying to take his shirt off. “No, baby, you’re not in your right mind,” he said as he kissed my hands. I couldn’t understand why he didn’t want to fuck me. I thought he loved me. I tried my hardest to curse him out, but the words wouldn’t leave my mouth.
He stood up and started walking toward the door. He stopped with his hand on the knob, and then he looked back at me. He told me he loved me and that he was so sorry and that he would pray for me. Then he walked out.
I continued to lie in the bed, horny as ever. If Mike didn’t want to fuck me, I was sure somebody else did. I tried getting up, but I couldn’t get the strength to lift my head from the pillow. While I was struggling to get up, Davon walked in.
“Look, Angel, I apologize for not telling you that I laced my weed,” he said while walking up to the bed. I didn’t hear a word he said. The only thing I heard was, “Angel, I want to fuck you.” The closer he got, the more I wanted to fuck him.
When he was within my reach, I grabbed him and began kissing him. At first he pulled away, but after a while he began kissing me back. He started unzipping my shorts, and I took his shirt off. It was weird how I got all my strength back when I was about to have sex. It was like I was powerful again.
He pulled his basketball shorts down, and then out came his dick. He fiddled in his pocket, and then he pulled out a LifeStyles condom. He bit it open and took the condom from the package. Before I knew it, my panties and shorts were off. I spread my legs, and Davon got in between them. He slid his small dick inside of me and began to pump me fast. He reminded me of a rabbit. As I lay there laughing, I could tell I was making him mad.