My Daughter's Boyfriend

by Cydney Rax

  Regis shrugged, “Y’all just scrubs. Scared to talk. If you gonna be in my crib at my party, you better show your ass ’cause I’ll sho’ be showing mine.”

  Justine replied, “You don’t mean that literally, do you, Rege?”

  Regis smiled and shifted her eyebrows up and down in a silly manner. Then she lowered the straps of her baby-doll nightie, exposing her thick shoulder. Charisse’s face turned red. “No, Regis didn’t mean it. I know that girl doesn’t mean that.”

  “Okay, okay,” Regis said, waving her hands, “I won’t get naked right now. But we playing strip poker later. Y’all game?”

  Everybody murmured, “Sure, Regis. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

  Lia’s thick lips spread into a wicked grin, “Let’s do some girl talk. Okay, which of y’all is sexing?”

  “Which of us ain’t?” That was Regis.

  Mostly everybody laughed. I started fanning myself and felt relieved when Regis dimmed the lights. She motioned for everybody to sit in a circle.

  Regis cleared her throat and said, “Okay, I’ll answer Lia. This easy.” She looked around the circle at each of us, pointing as she talked, “I know my neighbor Charisse not screwing.”

  Charisse adjusted her glasses and lowered her head, but didn’t say anything.

  Regis continued, “I know my cousin Hope screwing, with her whorish ass. She only thirteen, y’all. Ain’t that a shame?”

  Regis acted like her announcement was a news flash, but there was nothing new about that flash. She’d already given Justy and me the scoop about her cousin. Regis said Hope had slept with so many boys, the only part of her body that hadn’t been felt on was her tonsils.

  Fiery yet modest, Hope’s eyes enlarged and her mouth flew open. “Regis, don’t be telling all my business.” Hope reached across Zoe to smack Regis, but Regis raised her hand and grabbed her cousin real quick, then pretended like she was going to twist Hope’s arm.

  “Chile, please,” Regis laughed, and rolled her eyes, letting Hope go. “I don’t even have to say nothing. You can look at Hope and tell she screwing. She got that gap between her legs. You know the kind of gap that look like a girl been riding on a horse.”

  Lia yelled, “Hi-ho, Silver!”

  Hope squirmed, yet managed to giggle. “Oh, y’all got jokes.”

  Responding with an easygoing chuckle, Regis said, “Put it this way, my guess is that seventy percent of the girls in this room is getting some loving, okay?”

  “Are you one of the seventy, Regis?” That was Lia, as if she had to ask.

  Looking at this group of girls, I couldn’t believe how bold everybody was. I hoped they wouldn’t ask me any in-depth questions. If they did, I guess I could lie, say “no comment,” or crack some joke. Letting the crew know the four-one-one about my love life would be too humiliating.

  “Is Regis one of the seventy?” Zoe huffed. “Don’t ask stupid questions, Lia. We’re talking about Regis Collier here.”

  Regis burst out laughing, and shook her braids with wildness. And when all eyes settled on her, she said, “If anybody sexing, you know I am.”

  I couldn’t believe she was giving herself big ups.

  Regis waved her arms and rocked her butt, even though she was sitting on the floor. “How y’all think my ass got so big?”

  I doubted this seriously, but blurted, “Stairmaster?”

  Regis said, “Negative. Dickmaster, girlfriend.”

  Both Zoe and Lia were like, “Ugh! Yuck!” I was thinking the same thing, but said nothing. Couldn’t believe how gross Regis could be. Didn’t know what she was trying to prove.

  Regis continued, “No, for real, y’all. My man Sporty does my body sooo good.” She shuddered like that eyeglass-wearing male dancer in the Beat It video.

  Lia waved her decaled fingernails. “Give us the details.”

  “Okay, okay, okay.” Regis smiled, lifting her eyes toward the ceiling. “Okay, I’ll tell you about one time when we did it.” She looked around the circle. “Oooh, it was sooo good. Happened last summer. My moms went on the church picnic, but I was sick that morning so I asked if I could stay home alone.”

  I asked, “And she believed you?”

  Regis rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I started feeling better around noon. So I paged my baby, Sporty, and asked if he could swing by. First he said no, he had thangs to do. But when I said nobody was home but me, he said he could be there in a couple of hours. He was an hour late and I was pissed, but once we started kissing, I got so worked up you couldn’t pay me to remember why I got pissed in the first place.”

  I couldn’t see how Regis could admit all this. If and when I did start bumpin’, would I tell a bunch of broads my play-by-plays? Weren’t some things considered special enough to be private? If this was the way it was supposed to be, I had to get used to it.

  Zoe leaned toward Regis. “What else happened?”

  “Don’t rush me,” Regis snapped. “I’m getting there. Soooo, then we went to my bedroom and I closed all the drapes and blinds and stuff so it could seem dark. He took off his clothes, then I took off mine. We started kissing and stroking each other’s body. I looked at his thang and he asked me what I thought. And I asked him, I said, “ ‘This here pretty big, but, uh, could you super-size it?’ ”

  Hope smirked. “Ooooooo-wee. I’m feeling you, cousin.”

  “Then what?” Zoe wanted to know.

  Regis’s voice lowered. “I started licking and sucking him till it grew even bigger and harder, just how I like it. And . . .”

  Lia leaned in. “What? Tell us.”

  “I put his nozzle in my gas tank and he started pumping .” She screamed with laughter.

  “Regis Collier.” Justine scowled. “You are one sick puppy.”

  Regis lifted her fingertips and panted, “Arf, arf.”

  Lia sprawled out on the carpet, screaming and flailing her legs in the air. Hope high-fived Regis, and the rest of us just looked at her in amazement while she bunched her shoulders up and down in an impromptu dance.

  Charisse stared at Regis like she’d just met her, or never knew her true nature until just then. “Regis, does your mom know that you’re having sex?”

  Regis stopped cutting up and got serious. “Duh, Charisse, I don’t know what my momma know. Hell, she might, but she ain’t never said nothing to me. Maybe it ain’t none of her business.”

  “As long as you’re living—”

  “Under this roof, blah, blah, blah. Hey, I heard it all before. You ain’t telling me nothing new. But this is life, Charisse. Most teens banging, you know?”

  “Doesn’t mean you have to do it because everybody else is.”

  Regis sighed and rolled her eyes. I felt sorry for her. It wasn’t often people stood up to her antics, especially when she was around several of her friends.

  In a gentle voice, Justine asked, “Do you use protection, Regis?”

  “I ain’t dumb. I always make Sporty put that body bag on.”

  Zoe’s eyes widened. “Well, what if he forgets? You not on birth control?”

  “You on crack? My momma would stab me if she found some birth-control pills around here that ain’t got her name on ’em.”

  “So,” Charisse said in a soft but firm voice, “Ms. Collier doesn’t know you’re having sex, and she wouldn’t approve, would she?”

  “You know, I’m about to throw your corny ass out my house, Charisse. I told my momma not to invite you. Charisse Youngblood, the moral conscience of New Territory subdivision.”

  Charisse lowered her head and whispered, “Sorry.”

  Justine spoke up. “Okay, Regis, chill out. We’re just talking. Charisse, I don’t know you very well, but you seem like a concerned friend. The reality is that it’s too late for Regis and Sporty to go back to hand-holding.”

  Regis’s cheeks spread out into a grin. “Thank you, my sista.”

  “But on the other hand,” Justine said, looking straight at Regis, “with HIV and st
uff, doing the do these days is no game, you hear what I’m saying?”

  Regis’s smile disappeared. “Chile, quit tripping. I ain’t no lesbo. Plus I’m only fifteen. I can’t catch no disease like HIV.”

  “Look here, Miss Smartass. Age doesn’t matter. The number of people who are infected is increasing, especially with heterosexual African-American females.”

  I wanted to smile but didn’t. And inside, my heart was screaming, Go Justy!

  Zoe joined in. “Regis, Justy’s right. That killer disease doesn’t care how young you are or the fact that your butt prefers dick.”

  Since the others had spoken, I felt safe adding, “I heard that.” Hell, why should I be afraid to speak up? Right was right, wrong was wrong. Even though this crew seemed like a bunch of nut cases, I was relieved a couple of them seemed to have some sense, that they weren’t totally out there. Maybe they could influence Regis. Maybe.

  Even Lia pumped her fist. “I heard that, too. Preach, Justy and Zoe.” Hope just looked and listened for the longest, not saying a word. With her furrowed brow and serious look, she didn’t seem like her usual smart-aleck self. I wanted to ask her if she used protection, but didn’t think it would be a good idea.

  Our teenaged voices became murmurs for a while, whispering as we thought about what Justine had said. Listening to her, in a way I was glad I hadn’t start having sex yet. I mean, I wanted to, but it seemed too complicated. Besides, it was one thing to hear my mother give me her warnings of sexual doom and quite another to hear it coming from my peers. But even though I wanted to be cautious, not just because of diseases I didn’t understand and babies I didn’t want, even so, I yearned to be with Aaron, if only just to have him snuggled next to my side. Holding hands and helping me to feel protected at a moment when I didn’t feel all that sure anymore. Yet with all my desire, I knew that when I finally did decide to have sex, it would be for the right reasons, and at the right time.

  Tracey 10

  It was approximately one o’clock on Sunday, my normal day to wash clothes. I had lugged a few baskets of dirty laundry to the complex’s on-site washateria. By the time I’d started a few loads and eased my way back toward the apartment, Lauren had returned home from the sleep-over. She was standing on the second-floor landing in front of our apartment door and inserting her key when she spotted me.

  “Hi, Mom,” she called.

  As soon as we made eye contact I stopped walking. I felt my face warm by several degrees. I allowed myself to walk up the stairs before I answered her.

  “H-hey, didn’t know you got back.”

  “Yeah, Miss Indira took home Justine, then she dropped me off. What’s for dinner?” She entered the apartment and plunked her duffel bag on the floor next to the fireplace.

  “Oh, I haven’t cooked a thing. Mmmm. Maybe we could have dinner at Luby’s,” I suggested.

  “Bet,” she said, and disappeared into her bedroom. Soon I heard the bumpity-bump of music blasting from her room. For once I didn’t mind how loud it was.

  I scoped our apartment and it seemed untidy. Grabbing a broom, I furiously started sweeping the kitchen. Whish, whish, whish, I was calling all dirt from the corners of my kitchen. Was so absorbed in what I was doing that I didn’t notice Lauren standing in the doorway looking at me. She clutched Aaron’s black leather jacket in her hand.

  “Aaron came to see me yesterday?”

  “What? He left his jacket, huh?” I asked, blushing and hoping I was a pro at looking surprised.

  She pressed the jacket against her nose and sniffed.

  “Mmmm, smells just like him, too. I miss my honey. Gotta give him a call,” she replied, heading toward the phone.

  “I wonder why he rolled by,” she yelled from the living room. “I told him I was going to the sleep-over. Guess he didn’t believe me, huh?”

  I busied myself sweeping the nasty dirt into the filthy dustpan. I really needed a new dustpan. Maybe I could run to Wal-Mart real quick, before all the church folks got out of worship service.

  “Hmmm! Mom, I see he called yesterday, too.”

  Damn caller ID. I could’ve choked my own neck for not remembering to delete incoming calls like any normal person would.

  It seems like when you’re caught up, your mind isn’t thinking about all the evidence that could link you to a certain indiscretion. And even though I didn’t believe Aaron and I had done too much to feel ashamed about, guilt shook its finger at me.

  She returned to the kitchen holding the portable phone.

  “You must not have been here when he called, or else why would he come over? He must’ve really wanted something. But I just got through calling him and there’s no answer. Mom, could we skip Luby’s? I’ll just boil a few hot dogs. I want to stick around in case my honey calls.”

  I didn’t speak or look at her when I dumped the kitchen’s dirt into the garbage container. Too much damned housework to pay attention to what she was saying.

  Lauren retreated to her bedroom. I heard the thumping bass of the radio blast even louder.

  Dr. Dre was sounding good to me.

  For once rap music sounded real good.

  WHEN THE DOORBELL RANG AROUND four o’clock that afternoon, I headed straight for the main bathroom and grabbed three magazines on my way. The commode in the master bedroom wasn’t working properly, so Lauren’s bathroom would have to do. I slammed and locked the door. The lid was down and I sat on the stool like it was a chair. I skimmed through a couple pages of Today’s Black Woman, but when I heard Lauren’s voice nearing the bathroom, I sat up and opened the lid. I pulled down my panties, sat on the toilet, and grunted.

  “Hey, Mommy, Aaron’s here. We’re going on the balcony, in case you’re wondering where I am.”

  “Ugh, okay, Lauren,” I called out. As soon as she left, my stomach started hurting for real. Mild diarrhea. Couldn’t believe it. My prolonged visit to the bathroom lasted about thirty minutes. Would’ve stayed longer but I heard a sharp knock on the door.

  “Ms. Davenport?”

  Damn! What did he want?

  I squeezed my thighs together. “I’m indisposed right now.”

  “Well, I need to use it as soon as you’re finished, please, ma’am.”

  “Be right out,” I said, and rolled my eyes like he could see through wood.

  I flushed the toilet and nearly injured my finger trying to force-spray the last of some peach-scented air freshener. I raked my nails through my uncombed hair and wished I had my makeup kit so I could apply some mascara and eyeliner. It wasn’t until I found myself searching through the medicine cabinet that I shuddered.

  What the hell was I doing? How had things gotten to this point? It had to be the fact that Lauren was there, walking around in the same spots that Aaron and I had graced nearly twelve hours before. Yep, that had to be it. Her presence was my reminder, my nudger, and I wasn’t exactly thrilled at how that felt.

  I took a deep breath and unlocked the door.

  Aaron was leaning against the wall when I came out. His calm look didn’t match my frenzied one.

  “Hey, uh, I wouldn’t go in there just yet if I were you.” I half-smiled.

  “That’s all right. I know how to pinch my nose,” he commented, and glided past me.

  When I heard him sniff and then dramatically suck in his breath, I nearly hit the floor. I put some pep in my step and headed for my bedroom.

  Stayed there a good ten minutes until I remembered my clothes were still sitting inside three washing machines. Because a pair of my jammies and some body towels had been stolen from the washateria in the past, I knew I’d better get my butt downstairs before it happened again.

  When I came out, Aaron was sitting on the couch. He stood up and rushed to my side. I kept walking toward the kitchen and squatted to grab the box of fabric-softener sheets from the cabinet underneath the sink.

  “What up with you, Miss Lady?” he said, his eyes finding mine.

  I shook my head in an a
brupt way.

  I saw the pain in his eyes, and it touched the weakness of my heart. “Where’s Lauren?” I inquired gently.

  “Taking a shower. She wants me to drive her to Wal-Mart, then she wants to get some dessert.”

  “Dessert? From where?” I asked, mildly curious.

  “I dunno.” He hesitated. “You wanna join us?”

  “Aaron, what is your problem?”

  “I don’t have a problem. But maybe you do.”

  “Look,” I said, not so nicely, “last night is the past. Don’t ask me to join you on a date with my daughter.”

  “Tracey, are you asking me to choose between you and her?”

  “I’m not asking you to do anything except use your common sense.”

  “Don’t think with my little head?” he said with a slight edge.

  I headed past him out the apartment and ran steps two at a time until I reached the washateria. I unloaded the three washers and tossed the damp clothes in several dryers. I almost went into cardiac arrest when I looked up and saw Aaron standing in the doorway.

  “Aaron, what—what are you doing? Where’s Lauren?”

  “Would you calm down? You act like it’s illegal for me to talk to you. Just came to tell you that we’re leaving now. Lauren’s waiting in the car.”

  Just looking at him standing there, so near yet seeming so far, my heart was touched.

  “Well, how long have you been standing there?” I asked, my voice and legs trembling.

  “Calm down . . . Tracey Lorraine.”

  I didn’t like how he said my name, but I couldn’t chastise him because he left. The sound of burning rubber did not go unnoticed.

  I knew he was angry, and I knew exactly why.

  Aaron 11

  “Aaron, I know you like driving fast, but you can’t be in that damn big a hurry,” was the first stream of badgering that flowed from Lauren’s mouth. Then it was, “Hey, correct me if I’m wrong, but I think we just ran a red light; not really sure, though, ’cause it was like ‘whoosh,’ you know what I’m saying?” she squealed looking behind us like HPD was on my jock. Her feet were set rigidly against the floor of the car, both her hands braced against the console.