Better Than Okay

by Jacinta Howard

  “Thrilling,” I deadpanned. “I gotta go if I’m gonna get some studying done before rehearsal.”

  It was already almost seven-thirty.

  “You’re a nerd,” he said, falling step beside me as we continued on the way to my dorm. “So where were you coming from?” he asked. “Obviously not a class.”

  I sighed audibly. “I stopped by Jer… J’s.”

  He shook his head at me like a disappointed father or something.

  “What?” I said, feigning agitation.

  “You don’t even like him,” Devin answered, shooting me a look.

  “He’s alright,” I lied.

  “You don’t even know his name, Jersey.”

  “It’s ‘J’,” I said, huffily.

  He shot me another look. We’d reached my dorm building and he pulled open the front door for me and followed me in.

  “You need to stop kicking it with lames that you don’t even like,” Devin said as we made our way up the steps to the second floor, where my room was located.

  I sighed heavily, beginning to get irritated.

  “Just drop it, Devin, damn. You’re pissing me off.”

  “When have I ever given a shit about pissing you off?”

  He had a point. It’s one of the reasons our relationship works so well. He doesn’t sugarcoat anything and neither do I.

  “I’m just saying,” he pressed.

  “No, I’m just saying,” I interrupted, trudging up the stairs. “I don’t harass you about the chicks you sleep with that you don’t even like.”

  “That’s because it’s different. My feelings aren’t all involved.”

  I stopped in my tracks, my hand on the freshly painted rail. A couple of girls passed by us on the stairs and gave Devin the once over as they laughed loudly. But he wasn’t paying them attention. He was looking at me with an irritable scowl, although his eyes were concerned.

  “You think my feelings are involved? Come on, Devin. You know me better than that.”

  I shook my head and continued up the steps.

  “Your feelings are involved. You may not have feelings for the lame ass dudes you mess around with but your emotions are definitely involved. You run off of your emotions, Jersey. You try to act like you aren’t, but you’re one of the most sensitive people I know. And messing with these dudes isn’t anything but you being emotional about other shit and trying to compensate for it with them. I guarantee you talked to your Pops today, huh?”

  I sighed loudly and rolled my eyes, even though I felt a little flustered and exposed because he was right, I had talked to Pops. This wasn’t the first time that Devin had hit me with his psychobabble bullshit, but today it was extra irritating for some reason.

  “Just drop it,” I breathed. We’d reached the long hall leading to my dorm room.

  “What happened with your mom wasn’t your fault, Jersey,” he said softly, halting outside of my room.

  My chest started to burn as anger and frustration and whatever else formed there.

  “I said drop it, Devin.”

  The tone of my voice and my severe look must’ve worked because he just shook his head and closed his mouth. We were right outside my dorm and I didn’t want Willow overhearing our conversation. She doesn’t know about my mom and although it isn’t a secret or anything, I want to keep it that way. It’s embarrassing, and personal and as soon as she finds out, I’m sure she’ll look at me with pity, which I freaking hate.

  I pushed open the door to my dorm room and was greeted by the intense scent of strawberries and vanilla, which meant that Willow and her body spray of the month were there.

  “Hey, Jersey!” she sang brightly.

  Willow is, by far, the happiest individual that I have ever met. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, with a book open next to her laptop, which had a huge Hello Kitty sticker covering the back of it. Her bright yellow comforter was dotted with lime green flowers and actually matched the yellow sundress she had on. Her jet-black hair was braided to the side and hanging over one shoulder. She kind of looked like she could’ve been Tia and Tamera’s third twin or something.

  “Did you remember to record A Different World?” I asked, entering the room and throwing my bag on the pitifully small desk that was shoved in the cramped corner of the room.

  “Sheesh, Jersey, ‘hi’ to you too,” she laughed, easily. “It’s recording now.”

  She glanced at Devin and looked away quickly. Normally, I find such happy people to be irritating, mostly because it’s fake and they’re usually trying to hide something by being extra bubbly. But Willow doesn’t bother me. She’s actually genuine and sweet and even though I have absolutely no motherly-instincts in my bones and we’re both nineteen, I feel the need to protect her. Which is why it’s so troubling that she clearly has a thing for Devin’s whorish ass.

  “What’s up Willow,” Devin greeted her, plopping down onto my bed, shoes and all.

  “Hi Devin,” she said a little shyly.

  “Devin, get your crusty-ass feet off of my bed,” I snapped, scowling.

  “Fuck yo’ bed, Jersey!” he said, wildly stamping his feet all over my dark red and purple comforter in a terrible impersonation of the Rick James skit on The Chappelle Show. I slapped his legs off, not finding him to be funny in the least.

  Willow giggled and he flashed his dimples at her. She blushed and dropped her gaze to her laptop. I swear Willow is like an actual ABC Family character. She’s never had a boyfriend and as far as I know, has only gotten to “third base.” She literally said “third base” when she was telling me one night after I convinced her to drink some shooters with me.

  “You want to come hang out with us at rehearsal tonight?” he was asking her, studying her in the intense way that made women’s insides melt.

  He was deliberately messing with her and I shot him a warning look, which he ignored. I’ve told him on more than one occasion that Willow was off limits. She’s too sweet and innocent to have her heart broken by Devin. And since Devin is my best friend and she’s my roommate, I really don’t want to have to deal with her heartbreak when he inevitably loses interest. Honestly, I'm protecting my own selfish interests by keeping them apart.

  She shook her head, her cheeks red. She’s so fair-skinned most people assumed that she’s mixed, although both her parents are black. I know because she has a framed photo of them on the nightstand that separates our twin-sized beds. They look happy and carefree, and nothing like any of the people I know back home.

  “I would come… I want to come…” she stammered.

  I watched Devin’s expression and knew his perverted ass was thinking about her very non-deliberate sexual innuendo. Willow was oblivious. “But I have a paper to write for Psych,” she finished.

  He shrugged easily, grinning again. “No worries, maybe next time. But you definitely have to come to our show Saturday, okay?”

  Her face lit up and she nodded her head enthusiastically. “I love watching you guys play. Jersey is so talented.”

  I shook my head.

  “Really, Jersey. I think it’s so cool that you play the bass guitar,” she told me for what had to be the millionth time.

  I waved off her compliment and reached for my laptop, which was buried somewhere under my comforter.

  “We only have thirty minutes to cram now,” I told Devin, pulling up my notes before passing the laptop to him.

  He sighed exaggeratedly as he took it from me. We spent the next twenty-minutes studying before I hopped in the shower to wash J’s sweat off of me.

  Much as I hate to admit it, Devin is right. I really have to stop sleeping with these lame-o’s.

 

 

 
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