Seems Like You're Ready: BWWM Romance

by Heather Rae

  “Because you are a nice person.”

  “I am, but that doesn’t mean I have to tutor you. Like I said, you couldn’t be bothered before,” I stated and started up the stairs. “Plenty of others tutor.”

  “I don’t want them; I want you. Help a brotha out, girl!” His voice echoed in the stairwell. “Meet me tomorrow after school outside the cafeteria?”

  “I didn’t agree to anything, Dre,” I yelled, but it was useless. He had already gone through the double doors that led outside. I shook my head and took the remaining stairs two at a time as the bell blared. For the first time in my life, I was late for class.

  Before I left for school the next morning, I scribbled a note for my parents stating I’d be late coming home; that I had agreed to tutor a classmate. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew once my mother found out who I was going to be helping study, I’d be in some trouble. There was something about Dre Carter though, so I was willing to take that chance.

  A part of me had already believed Dre to be full of it. I had expected him to not show up. In class he had never once acknowledged me, either. By the time the end of the day came around I was sure that he would not be waiting for me between the two school buildings. Surprised was an understatement when I saw him leaning against the metal rails.

  “How about we walk over to the city library?” I suggested.

  “Cool,” he shrugged.

  We fell into an awkward silence as we walked three blocks over to the library. I picked a long table away from anyone or anything that might have distracted us. I sat down and flipped open his book.

  “So you got a boyfriend?” he asked, while I scanned over the current chapter that was being taught.

  “I’m going to need for you to focus,” I said absently.

  “I am.”

  “On math, Dre. Not on whom I am dating.” I glanced up at him.

  “My bad.”

  “It’s fine. Now…let’s get down to business.”

  Every Saturday we continued to meet at the library at 11 am. I explained to him the chapter lessons that he was unable to grasp during class. While he worked on the practice problems I made up for him, I filled out college applications. We would stay until closing then part ways outside.

  I had to keep reminding myself that the time we were spending together was not personal. We were together because he required my help; he needed me. It didn’t matter that I wanted him, or that we were becoming friends.

  October was testing all month long. When our results were given, Dre was excited. He entered class grinning, and tossed his packet onto my desk. The large 'C' stood out in the top center of the papers. Without thinking, I jumped up and threw my arms around him. I hugged him tight and pressed my lips hard to his in mutual excitement, momentarily forgetting classmates and my on again off again boyfriend, the football captain Greg.

  A huge fight broke out in class. Dre and Greg grappled with one another, knocking over desks and chairs as everyone egged them on. There I was in the middle of the two of them, crying and attempting to break them apart. All 3 of us ended up in my mother’s office. I assured my mother it was a misunderstanding and we could all get along together; that there would be no more problems.

  My mother let it slide and dished out warnings, but that evening at home was a different story. She demanded details about my involvement with Dre. I had explained to her that the only time I had saw Dre outside of school was at the library for our tutoring sessions. I assured that I was his tutor and Dre didn’t even like me.

  “The boy was kicked out of school for fighting and having drugs on him! He’s nothing but trouble!” my father shouted, something he never had to do at home.

  “Daddy, I am NOT seeing him!” I argued back.

  “I know you’re NOT because I FORBID it! You will not see that boy at all!”

  “I am only helping him with his math class, Daddy! He doesn’t even like me!”

  Although I told my parents this, I was fully aware that Dre did indeed like me. He was used to playing the street tough guy and now he was in a pissing contest with Greg. Both of them were competitive in nature. Dre made sure he sat next to me in class, walked with me to the next and spoke every time he saw me in passing.

  Soon the Christmas dance was upon us. We decided to meet each other at the dance to prevent any problems with my parents. It was of no surprise that Greg was there as well with a new girlfriend, not that it bothered me. I had Dre, sort of. Under the slow-spinning strobe light, we swayed back and forth to the music.

  “Can I tell you something?” Dre asked, looking down at me.

  “Yeah, what is it?”

  I gazed up into his hazel eyes and smiled, and before I knew what had happened, he kissed me.

  The next day Dre was waiting for me at the library. I had considered not going at all. How was I to tutor him when I had just kissed him the previous night? It would be awkward! But I showed up, 30 minutes late, just as he was walking out. I had refused to discuss the events of the dance. I insisted that we needed to concentrate on studying. That had lasted about all of a week. The next session ended with me being backed into the corner, his mouth on mine.

  My parents got wind of the Christmas dance. Again, any further involvement was forbidden, even tutoring. So I did what any other normal teenager in love would have done; I lied. I was eighteen and nothing was going to stop me from being with Dre. Never had I not told the truth to my parents and I felt so bad about it. But when you find out you can get away with something once, you tend to continue despite how it eats at you.

  Shaylah was my best friend. Going to her house and spending the weekends there was an escape for me. It was also the only way I could see Dre. Shaylah was sneaking to see her boyfriend as well. Together we would devise plans for the following week. Dre wanted to act right for me, to be a good guy. But it was difficult, in part by his older brother Brandon.

  The both of us were making mistakes. We were on a downhill slope where everything was beginning to get tricky. It was my parents’ anniversary weekend and my father had made elaborate plans for my mother; a romantic getaway.

  “I’ve already spoken to Shaylah’s mother. She’ll be home the entire weekend and said it was fine for you to stay with them.”

  “I’m perfectly capable and responsible to stay at home by myself for two nights, Momma,” I replied, drying the dishes in the drain board.

  “Yes, we know. You might not burn the house down but…” Her voice trailed off.

  “Momma.”

  “I said…” my father bellowed as he entered the kitchen, “you will go stay at Shaylah’s while we are gone.”

  I didn’t want to cross my father if I didn’t have to. He’d previously threatened to have Dre arrested on site, just because. The last thing I wanted was to argue. A fight with my parents before their departure could ruin all the plans I had going on in my head.

  “I’ll stay at Shay’s house then,” I conceded and stacked the dishes in the cupboard.

  “Good. I’ll drop you off after school lets out tomorrow, so why don’t you go pack up your bag now; I’ll finish these,” my mother suggested.

  “Yes ma’am.”

  Upstairs in my room, I grabbed a duffle bag from the back of my closet. There was a basketball game the next night so I needed to take my cheer uniform with me as well. I dug in the bottom of one of my drawers and located the hidden stack of clothes. I hurriedly stuffed the short Lycra mini skirt and half top in the bottom of the bag before either one of my parents happened to walk by. It didn’t matter how fashionable the outfit was, my parents would have beat my ass had they seen it. I needed it though, and had saved up my money from my afterschool job to buy it.

  The game had ended early that Friday night. The visiting team had shown un-sportsman like conduct from the moment their bus arrived. Much was to say the same of the fans, parents and students. We barely managed to make it through the first quarter when officials had enough and called the ga
me. Dre had been waiting outside for me to come out.

  He stood leaning against the metal pipe bars that ran along the sidewalk with a round woman next to him. I stopped short and smiled at her, not knowing who she was. Dre slipped his arm around my shoulder and planted a light kiss on my cheek.

  “Momma, this is Nikkia. Nikkia, my momma Sylvia.”

  Sylvia stood about five-foot-three. She had wide hips, large breasts and a jagged scar that ran from the corner of her mouth across her cheek. She pursed her lips at me for a moment while tired sharp eyes inspected me. For a second I felt as if I was under one of the microscopes in the Chemistry lab.

  “You’re the girl that’s been helping Dre out then,” She said, clearing her throat.

  “Yes ma’am, I have. He’s up to a B now,” I grinned, happy with the progress we had made. Then I extended my hand to her. “I’m Nikkia Miles.”

  Miss Sylvia sucked her teeth at me then pulled me into her arms. She hugged me tightly, rocking back and forth on each foot.

  “Thank you, baby!”

  Then quickly she released me. I wasn’t quite sure if she had felt embarrassed or if she did not want anyone to see her softer side. Regardless, I instantly liked the woman. She and I were destined to be close.

  That night, Shaylah and I were meeting Dre and her boyfriend Mike-Mike at McDonald’s. From there we were going to a house party. Shay and I were both so excited. We were young, inexperienced, and sheltered. As we walked in the house of a friend of a friend, we were assaulted by thick smoke and bodies all over. The deejay was setup in a corner as huge speakers blared music from the late 80s and 90s hip-hop and rap. The bass was so intense it was felt in our chests. It was great! Thrilling! We were on the verge of freedom!

  The lights dimmed and the music slowed. Dre caught my hand and led me over to the corner for a slow dance. His fingertips slid down the length of my arms, causing me to shiver as his thumbs caressed the sensitive underside.

  “Gimme some sugar, Nik.”

  I rolled up onto my toes to kiss him lightly, feeling self-conscious in a room full of people. His hand traced down my side and slid around to press into the small of my back, urging my body closer to his. It was obvious he didn’t care about kissing me, so I acquiesced and leaned into him, opening my mouth to him. His tongue tasted of liquor and intensified the intoxicating effect he had on me.

  My head began to spin and warmth spread up my neck as his hand found its way to my breasts. My eyes snapped open, and I tried to focus through the haze clouding my brain.

  “Dre,” I warned him.

  He hadn’t pressured me, but while I may not have been experienced, I wasn’t stupid either.

  “You can’t blame me, Nik.”

  “Do you want to argue?” I asked him and put some distance between our bodies.

  “No, baby…but damn, what do I gotta do to prove I’m worthy of some lovin’?”

  I shook my head and glanced at the huge watch on my wrist.

  “I gotta get Shay. We have a curfew.”

  Miss Goodie Goodie had resurfaced and Dre picked at me the entire ride back to McDonald’s where I had left my car. By the time we got out the car I was boiling hot mad at him. I slammed the door and strolled across the parking lot.

  “C’mon Nik! What the hell is your problem?” he yelled after me.

  “You always have to make fun at me!”

  “Oh please! Really?!”

  “You do!”

  “Baby…”

  “You know what, Dre? Go to hell!”

  I got up the next morning in a funk. By the time the afternoon came around, I had only become angrier. Shay and I had talked about how stupid boys were all day and at that point, my head was pounding.

  I gathered up my belongings and went home. I got a jump start on my chores, downed a few Tylenol then stretched out on the couch. Closing my eyes, I wondered where things were going to go with Dre. We had our entire lives ahead of us…

  The chime of the doorbell interrupted my thoughts. I peered through the lace curtains and shook my head before fling the door open with a pout on my lips.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to talk to you, Nikkia.”

  “About?”

  “You’re my girlfriend, I don’t want to fight with you,” he said as he stepped into the foyer.

  “I can’t tell.”

  “Huh…am I such a bad guy cuz I wanna be witchu? Nikkia, I love you.”

  That was all it took. I pushed the door closed and flipped the locks. He grabbed me by the waist as my arms twisted around his neck, our mouths greedily drinking from one another. We stumbled up the stairs and down the hall to my bedroom. Anxiously and awkwardly, I had sex for the very first time.

  Over the weeks to come, we would practice at every opportunity we had. We were gonna take on the world together, but we weren’t counting on a few things. The first was getting caught together by my parents. The second had much more serious repercussions; I was pregnant. Prom was no longer on my brain. The conversation I needed to have with my parents had overridden everything else on my mind. Abortion was never an option - that was discussed between Dre and me. We did the deed and we would be responsible for our actions. Besides, we loved each other. That should be enough, right?

  ~~3~~

  I would never forget the look of disgust and disappointment on my parents’ faces when Dre and I told them about having a baby. My mother and I had to literally pull my father off of Dre. Daddy stormed out of the room, bellowing he was going for his pistol. I hurried Dre out of the house with tears pouring down my cheeks.

  Momma cried and cursed, rivaling any proverbial foul-mouthed sailor. Oh, she was livid! She began to quote statistics on teenaged pregnancy rates, dropout rates, and poverty rates and any other demographics that could possibly apply. Dre had told me later that he could hear our shouting from outside across the street.

  On the corner was where I had found him two hours later. My parents refused to accept my relationship with Dre, let alone allow me to remain under their roof.

  “GET OUT!!” My father’s voice had risen to deafening levels.

  “Daddy!” I had cried, torn in two. “Momma!”

  “I am so ashamed,” my mother said tightly. “As far as I am concerned, you don’t exist.”

  I pleaded and tried to appeal to her, but I had defied my parents. They refused to be swayed, no matter how bad it hurt. Under the watchful eye of my father, I packed my belongings. As the front door to the house was held open, I was forced to relinquish the key to my parents’ home. The one concession, since I had paid for it, was I could keep my car. Now at the tender sweet age of eighteen, on the tail end of my senior year of high school, I was pregnant, exiled, and homeless. But I had Dre, so everything would be just fine.

  I moved in with him and his mother in their two-bedroom apartment just inside the city. Okay, I’m being politically correct. We lived in the ‘hood. Quite honestly, my only other option was to go to a shelter. The thought alone frightened me more than living in the projects. Dre's mother, Miss Sylvia, was a tough woman who had lived a tough life yet she had a sensitive, soft side. We bonded relatively quickly. She was my sounding board, and offered me guidance and direction.

  I still managed to graduate with high honors, as did Dre, despite the statistics my mother had rattled off. The afternoon of commencement when my name was called to receive my diploma, it was presented by the assistant principal as my mother walked out of the auditorium. At the time, I didn’t understand. As I look back on everything, I can accept and respect how they had felt at the time. It was excessive and extreme, but I learned a valuable lesson even though it wasn't recognized until later on in life.

  I had given up the dream of attending medical school. Shortly after graduation, I went by the community college to look into the programs they offered. I brought two information packets back to the apartment, one for myself and one for Dre. However, despite my urging and support, D
re wasn’t receptive in furthering his education. I enrolled myself in classes to start right away in the Health Sciences department. I also applied for public assistance and was able to get an apartment for our growing family, two buildings over from Miss Sylvia’s.

  “You and Dre need your own space,” Miss Sylvia winked as she boxed up some extra things she had for me. “Especially with the baby coming.”

  Time was passing quickly. As Fall came in, my belly went out. Dre and I still didn’t have all we wanted for the baby, but we had what we needed. I read everything I could get my hands on so that at least one of us would be prepared. I was fidgety over every little thing, and Dre repeatedly told me I was overreacting. I was petrified and he didn’t do too well at easing my fears. On October 31st, at 8:30 pm, a precious baby girl weighed in at six pounds even, and screamed her way in to this world.

  I named her Kiandre, and she was absolutely perfect. Dre never left my side from the onset of labor. He had said I deserved wings and a halo for what I had done. Swaddled in soft pink blankets, we counted 10 tiny toes and fingers on our baby girl. She had Dre’s hazel eyes and my head full of wild curls. An angel she was.

  Dre fell in love with Kiandre which made me love him all the more. We didn’t have much, but we were happy with what we had, and we had each other. By no means was life perfect, oh no, far from that, but we were determined to make it.

  Time went by rather quickly. Before I knew what had happened a year had passed. We had celebrated Kiandre’s first birthday; she had a mouthful of teeth and was walking on her own. Dre and I, however, had made no progress. As a matter of fact, we suffered a few setbacks. Dre had lost his little gig at the gas station due to his mouth, and I had to lessen my class load in order to work a few extra hours at the restaurant. To top it off, we were still living in the hood. I tried to suck it up and not fuss with Dre about it, but I hated it there. Life was not what I had envisioned at all.

  Bad-ass kids ran rampart through the complex, screaming and carrying on at all hours of the day and night. I swore their parents had to be on the verge of being arrested for truancy; then again, the mothers were either crack heads or skanks. Either way they were more worried about where their next fix was gonna come from rather than the education or wellbeing of their children. From the time the sun rose, they lined the cement walls.