by Ni-Ni Simone
“Gem, I need you to believe me and understand that I didn’t cheat on you. I love you. I swear I love you more than anybody I’ve ever loved. You make my life complete. Believe me.”
“How can I believe anything you say, and you won’t even admit that you know the chick?”
“I don’t!”
“Oh so, you really don’t know Kamani Sanders, but Kamani Sanders knows you like the back of her hand and swears you’re her man!”
Ny’eem paused and then he said, “I kicked it to her for a minute—”
The fist that had gripped my throat had now moved and was beating me in the back of my head, but instead of crumbling and giving in to the pain I chuckled in disbelief and said, “First you don’t know her. And now you kicked it to her for a minute. Whatever. We’re done. Through. It’s over and I don’t ever want to see you again! I hate you!”
“Oh word,” he said calmly, but his eyes welled with tears. “So you just gon’ bounce? Like what we had is nothing.”
He paused and I stood silently, doing all I could to stop the tears that were revealing too many of my feelings.
“That’s what you’re saying, right?” he pushed.
“Yeah,” I swallowed, still looking away from him. “Exactly.”
Ny’eem softly turned my face toward his and said, “Keep it gutter with me in my face. Now say it, since you loved me yesterday and hate me today. Look me in my eyes and tell me that. Say it. Because I promise you if you say it and you mean it then I’ll step all the way off. But, if you can’t say it, then that means you don’t mean it. Which means we gon’ fix this because I didn’t do anything!”
I looked Ny’eem in his eyes and when I realized that tears were seriously threatening to spill from them, there was no way I could tell him that I hated him, because I didn’t. I loved him and that’s what I hated. “Ny’eem,” I sighed. “It’s over. I’m done.”
“Nah,” he said and took a step back. “This is far from over, and I put that on everything I love.”
24
“Time to get up.” Ms. Grier walked into my room, pulled the curtains back and opened the blinds. “It’s been two days. The whole house has given you space and now it’s time to get things back in order. Now sit up.” She tapped the edge of my bed. “Come on. Sit up.”
Just when I thought she wasn’t crazy anymore . . .
I slid the covers from over my head and the sunlight she’d let into my room blinded me. I quickly squeezed my eyes shut, took a deep breath, and slowly peeled them open, one at a time.
“Sit up,” she said, sitting on the edge of my bed. “I want to talk to you.”
I sniffed and hoped that when I sat up—that this time, unlike yesterday and the day before that, that I could sit up without unwanted tears sneaking up on me and spilling down my cheeks.
I was tired of crying.
Tired of being weak.
And yeah, I’d had a broken heart before, but the difference between those and this one—this time I felt like my heart was killing me.
And I didn’t want to die. I wanted to act like none of this existed.
But it existed. And every waking minute reminded me of it...
I thought when I cut up all of Ny’eem’s pictures that the pain would go away. But it didn’t—it just left a mess. A mess that I sailed and scattered across the room and now everywhere I looked there he was, literally.
And then there were the memories, etched in my head like mind tattoos.
I felt paralyzed.
I couldn’t eat.
Couldn’t sleep.
Couldn’t even dream in peace.
All I could do was think about Ny’eem and replay Kamani telling me that he was her man . . . her man . . . not mine . . .
“Come on, I said sit up,” Ms. Grier repeated. She gently pulled the covers down and over my shoulders. I looked up at her and tears filled my eyes.
“Oh, baby,” she said, hugging me. “It’s okay—”
I hate that phrase . . . it’s anything but okay...
A few minutes after giving in to these stupid tears I wiped my eyes and sat up. My hair spilled wildly over my shoulders and not until I sat up did I realize that I was wearing one of Ny’eem’s basketball T-shirts that he’d given me. I fought off the urge to break down again and instead crossed my legs Indian style, “I’m up,” I said to Ms. Grier.
She stroked my hair behind my ears and smiled at me. It was clearly a sympathetic smile. “I know it’s hard and I know it hurts.”
Don’t cry again . . . I thought to myself, as my lips started to tremble.
“And I know,” she continued, “that you may not think or believe that things will get better, but they will.”
“I want them to get better now,” I managed to say and then I threw in a nervous laugh. “Right now.”
“It’s no magic pill to heal, baby.”
“I just loved him so much,” I said without thinking, “and he hurt me. He could’ve just left me alone or never said anything to me from the beginning. He didn’t have to use me. I didn’t deserve that. I feel... so stupid.”
I held my head down and surrendered to feeling like a fool.
“Let me tell you something,” Ms. Grier said sternly. “You are anything but stupid. There is nothing stupid about loving someone and wanting to be with them. There is nothing stupid about being true. Nothing stupid about walking away when they’ve hurt you. You are not stupid. In life things happen, and love happens, and sometimes love happens over and over again. That’s just the way it is sometimes. I was nineteen years old when I gave birth to the twins. I was married to their father for over ten years. I loved him and he loved me, but it didn’t work out.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because he made other choices,” Ms. Grier said.
“Did he cheat on you?” The look on her face said it all. “So they all cheat,” I said as I shook my head.
“That’s not what I’m saying,” Ms. Grier said. “What I’m saying is that things happen. And yes, he took me through some things and some of the things I chose to stand there and take. But when I decided to get up and out of the bed and take care of myself is when my life came together.”
“I wish it was that easy for me. But he’s in all my thoughts. I can’t even think about him without crying!”
“Gem, my brown beauty, you are a smart girl and I’m telling you that it’s okay to cry for a little while, but it’s not okay to cry forever. You don’t give your power away to anybody, for anything. And when you are in a relationship and it no longer feels good it’s because it’s not good anymore. Move on. Love doesn’t hurt. Lies do. Deceit hurts.”
“But I thought he loved me.”
“And he may have loved you, honey, but is that enough when he was manipulative? Love is a beautiful thing, and it has absolutely nothing to do with pain. When it turns into pain, walk away.”
“Just like that?”
“At sixteen, yes, you can walk away just like that. You are responsible for the decisions that you make. And as your mother I’m telling you that I’m raising you to be a strong young woman because around here strength is an expectation and that’s bottom line.”
“I understand that, but still . . .”
“There are no buts and there is no time to stand still.”
“Maybe you’re right, maybe being with him was just a mistake.” I shrugged, hopelessly.
“In life there are no mistakes, only lessons—”
“And what lesson is this? That I have a bottomless well of tears?”
“The lesson is strength. The lesson is you are beautiful no matter what your circumstances are. Now I want you out of this bed, dressed, and back to handling your business.” She stroked my cheek. “I’m serious.”
“Okay.” I gave her a small smile.
“Now you go on and get ready for school. Your father and I have a parent-teacher conference for your brother Malik that we have to get to. Seems he’s trying t
o be the class clown.”
25
After practice I was torn about whether to shower and change in the locker room or if I should’ve waited until I got home. I’d rather deal with Cousin Shake’s tirade about me smelling up the living room and putting a bad taste in his food than deal with the tension and the ra-ra that I knew awaited me in the locker room.
Not that I was scared.
I just didn’t feel like squashing rumors, cussing Janay out, and gripping Kamani by the roots of her sew-in and dragging her through the shower stalls.
It just wasn’t worth the three-game suspension—not when I was getting more playtime than she was. Not when I was scoring more points in a single game than she had ever scored. And not when I knew that if I dragged her I’d beat her so bad that the three-game suspension would probably turn out to be a jail sentence.
But, I didn’t want to look like the punk either.
So, I figured to heck with it, if anybody came for me, I’d just have to show ’em why stepping out of bounds wasn’t a good idea. Pop had already told me that she was down for whatever; and if she saw me toss a swing that she’d follow up with an uppercut first and worry about what happened when we got to the police station.
“Umm hmm, she was trying to do me dirty and be a home wrecker,” Kamani said to her captivated and signifying crowd. “But like my man, Crook, told me, it’s always gon’ be gutter-rat-groupies trying to come between us.” All the girls standing around Kamani created a choir of ‘that’s a mess, girl’ and one of them even said, “I knew she was a trick.” Yet, when Pop and I stood in their faces, instead of behind their backs, all of the random chatter ceased. Some of the girls even left the locker room altogether.
“I thought so,” Pop said loudly. “They don’t want none!”
And I guess they didn’t, because no one said a word as we walked into our individual shower stalls.
I showered quickly because I just wanted to get out of there. Everybody stared at me, talked about me, was all in my business—and no matter how many girls I could tackle to the ground and sling by their hair it wouldn’t stop the pain that fly-kicked me in the chest.
So, I needed to get home, because I knew that at any moment tears would knock against the back of my eyes again.
Pop and I stepped out of the shower, got dressed, and then walked over to the lounge area, where Kamani continued on with her rant. “Yeah, me and Crook spent last night together. He was so scared of losing me that I had to stay with him to prove that I was ride or die.” She turned around, rolled her eyes at me, and continued, “And I proved—all night—how ride or die I was. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s back at my door tonight again, begging for a repeat.”
Don’t say anything, let it go.
I can’t let her play me . . .
I swallowed the iron fist in my throat, smiled at Pop, and said, “Are you ready?”
“Yop,” said Pop, who definitely was not smiling. “I’m ready for a few things.”
“Girl, we don’t sweat the small stuff.” I waved my hand and looked over at Kamani—who was staring at me. I bucked my eyes at her and said, “Any particular reason why you’re looking dead in my mouth? You wouldn’t be worried would you?”
“Worried?” She arched a brow.
“That I’ma take your man again, ’cause I can assure you, boo-boo, that I’ve already got what I needed and I’m now finished with him. You can have him back.”
The look on Kamani’s face told me I’d sent her straight to twenty. But I didn’t give a damn, ’cause honestly, I was looking for a reason to leave her with some lumps.
I cocked my neck to the side and mouthed to Kamani, “Bring it. I dare you.”
Before she could get up the muscle or the nerve Janay skipped in smacking on a lollipop and said, “Kamaneee, your boo’s outside. He wanna talk to you.”
Pause . . . What? What did Janay say? Ny’eem is here? Really? Ny’eem is actually here for Kamani? He is really her man . . . really, really, her man . . . I don’t know what I did to piss God off, but obviously for this to be happening, Jesus has beef with me.
I swallowed.
Did my best to maintain my game face.
Pop turned fire red. “I’ma beat his—”
“Pop, just drop it. It’s cool,” I said, determined to keep my composure, ’cause there was no way I would let any of these chicks see me sweat.
Not. Even. An Option.
Kamani looked nervous as she said to Janay, “Crook’s outside for me?”
“Where else would he be, Kamani,” Janay giggled. “He can’t walk through walls. And he said hurry up.”
Kamani blushed. “Told y’all.” She looked from one end of the room to the next. “That’s my baby.” She turned toward Janay. “How do I look?”
“Cute,” Janay said. “Real cute. Just put a lil gloss on.”
“Okay.” Kamani searched through her purse, pulled out her gloss and shined her lips. “How does my gloss look, Nicole?” she said to one of the girls on the team, who’d been mesmerized by Kamani’s rants about Crook. “Are they poppin’, girl?”
Nicole smiled and said, “They’re poppin’, girl. You look real cute. Now go on and get your hottie.” She snapped her fingers. “’Cause you already know everybody’s trying to get up on ’im.”
“Maybe I should go freshen up first,” Kamani said.
“Kamani,” Janay said. “You just took a shower, so you got an hour before you start sweating and everything. And anyway boo-boo seemed a little agitated when he asked for you. So I wouldn’t keep him waiting.”
“And plus I wanna meet him,” Nicole said.
“Me too,” said a few of the other girls from the team.
I wanted to run out of there, but there was no way I could do that. So I just stood there and wondered was this even real? Or was this a nightmare . . . but then, nightmares didn’t last this long.
I looked at Pop and she whispered to me, “All you have to do is say the word, and I will have my cousin Benny over here shuttin’ down the block. As long as you have twenty dollars for his cell phone minutes, girl he will take over the world.”
“No, I’m cool.” I slung my duffle bag over my shoulder. “I couldn’t care less what Ny’eem, or better yet, Crook does with that hollah-back-thirsty-bird.”
“What you say, Gem?” Kamani barked my way.
“I said, that I don’t care what Crook-Ny’eem, whatever his name is does with you, you hollah-back-bird.”
“You forgot, thirsty—” Pop added.
“Oh, yeah, hollah-back-thirsty-bird.”
“You can call me names all day,” Kamani said. “But one thing you can’t call me is the sideline ho!”
Janay sarcastically clapped her hands and said, “All up in ya grill with the truth! Now come on, Kamani, and go get your man.”
“Yeah,” Kamani said, “I think I’ll do that, jealous trick.” She walked out of the locker room and the heavy metal door made a thud sound as it slammed in place.
“What did she say?!” Pop raced toward the door. “Did she call you a jealous trick?”
Before Pop could bolt out after Kamani I said, “Just let it go.”
“What?” Pop batted her lashes as if she were returning from another planet. “Let it go, are you serious?”
“Leave it alone. I’m not sweatin’ it,” I said, struggling to act as if my confidence hadn’t been kicked to an all-time low.
Pop blinked. “All right.” She paused. “All right. Since this is your fight. I’ma let you direct it, but just know they got one mo’ time to say something crazy and it’s on!”
We walked out of the locker room and the closer I got to the exit door the heavier my feet felt. I couldn’t believe that this was happening to me. There was no way Ny’eem ever loved me. No way.
I approached the glass exit doors and saw Ny’eem standing there. He was dressed in slightly baggy black jeans, a black YMCMB hoodie, and Air Yeezy sneakers. The look on his
face said that he was stressed. He locked eyes with me and for a moment I thought maybe he missed me.
Check yourself.
I shifted my eyes from his and instead made it my business to put a little more swish in my hips as I placed my hand on the handle, pushed the door open, and prepared to walk past him.
“Are you sure you don’t want to slap him?” Pop asked me. “’Cause thugs don’t scare me.”
“I just want to ignore him,” I said, slyly sipping in a nervous breath.
“Kamani,” Ny’eem called out to her as she took slow steps toward him. “Come on, ma, what you waiting on? Come here.” He smiled at her and she smiled back. She looked over at me and I guess the hurt in my eyes caused her to put pep in her step and switch her way over to Ny’eem. Most of the team stood around and either gawked at Ny’eem or chuckled while taking sneak peeks at me.
“He got any friends, Kamani?” Nicole giggled.
“Yeah, girl,” Kamani said. “Plenty.” She strolled over to Ny’eem and said, “Wassup, boo?”
“You know exactly wassup.” Ny’eem looked over at me, as Pop and I were attempting to walk swiftly away, and said, “Yo, let me hollah at you real quick.”
“She doesn’t need to come over here!” Kamani snapped.
“I sure don’t. ’Cause I don’t do threesomes, you and your little freak can leave me out of your mess!” I said to Ny’eem.
“I said come here,” Ny’eem said sternly.
“And I said I’m good.”
“Gem, don’t play with me,” he said as the veins in his neck stuck out and made a road map into his shoulders.
“Go ’head,” Pop said. “’Cause this just might be the excuse we need to jump him.”
Reluctantly I walked over toward Ny’eem and Pop followed closely behind me. “What?” I said with major attitude. “What you want? Ain’t that your girl right here?” I pointed to Kamani. “Haven’t you been disrespectful enough?”