Butterfly

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Butterfly Page 17

by Sylvester Stephens


  “What’s going on?” Dr. Forrester looked back and forth at Ms. Alicia and me.

  “Her boyfriend’s father thinks his son is too good for her. That’s what’s going on.”

  “Is that it?”

  “Is that it?” Ms. Alicia snapped. “Did you hear what I said?”

  “You have me missing the Final Four for that? The game is on!”

  “So that game is more important than Shante, Johnny?”

  “No, you know that’s not what I’m saying. I just wanna watch my game.”

  “Do you not understand that we have a crisis here?”

  “What is the crisis, Alicia? They’re kids, let them be kids and stay out of their affairs! And who cares what Jeremy’s father thinks?”

  “I do.”

  “Okay fine, but I’m going back downstairs.”

  “Dr. Forrester!” I tried to stop him before he went back to his game.

  “Yes, Butterfly?”

  “Ms. Alicia wants to make me go to Jeremy’s house, so that she can tell his father off.”

  “I don’t want to tell the man off. I just want to ask him what the hell is his problem.”

  “Don’t embarrass that girl like that, Alicia.”

  “Why should she be embarrassed? I’m just going to talk to the man, one adult to another.”

  “No she’s not, Dr. Forrester. She’s going to make a big scene. She’s going to gouge his eye out or something.”

  “Stop being so dramatic, Shante.” Ms. Alicia pointed her finger at me.

  “Sweetheart, will you please stay away from those people?”

  “Okay.”

  “You promise?”

  “I said okay.”

  “Let me see your fingers?”

  Ms. Alicia pulled her hands from behind her back and showed Dr. Forrester her hands. “See.”

  “Okay, now you ladies play fair and stop fighting over boys. I’m going to go watch my game now. Unless it’s a fire, or somebody is dying or dead, do not call me. I repeat, do not call me. Enjoy the rest of your evening, ladies.”

  Ms. Alicia licked her tongue out at me as Dr. Forrester went back to the basement. We started folding clothes again and then Ms. Alicia went upstairs and asked Pa-Pa to watch Brit while Dr. Forrester watched the game. The next thing I knew she was pulling me out of the door by my arm.

  “Come on, girl.”

  “But you promised Dr. Forrester you weren’t going to go over there.”

  “Yeah, but I had my toes crossed. Hurry up! Let’s go before he comes up here for a snack! Move it! Move it! Move it!”

  Ms. Alicia fussed all the way to Jeremy’s house. I texted him to see if he was at home. He was, and I gave him a heads-up that we were on our way. Unfortunately, he told me that his father was there, too. I was so nervous I could not think straight. I tried to talk to Ms. Alicia out of it, but she wasn’t having it.

  When we pulled up, there were a few television and newspaper reporters posted in front of their home. We found a place to park and then walked to Jeremy’s door, but before we could answer, Jeremy snatched the door open.

  “Hi, Mrs. Forrester,” Jeremy looked at me, “Hey, Bae. I mean, Shante.”

  “Hi, Jeremy, is your father home?”

  “Yes, ma’am, come in.”

  Jeremy showed us to their den and we waited for Mr. Winston. Mrs. Winston was gone. Too bad; I would have much rather preferred her. Ms. Alicia looked around the room for something negative to point out and she found it.

  “Um.” Ms. Alicia pointed at a piece of African art. “I wonder how much that old ugly thang cost right there.”

  “Ms. Alicia, shush.”

  “Don’t shush me, girl!”

  “You’re talking too loud, though.”

  “I’m talking loud for a reason. I want these people to hear me.”

  “When Mr. Winston comes in, can you please be nice, Ms. Alicia?”

  “If he’s nice to me, I’ll be nice to him.”

  “At least try to give him a chance...”

  Mr. Winston walked into their den with Jeremy right in his foot tracks. “May I help you?”

  “I hope so.”

  “I, um, my daughter seems to think that you have a problem with her dating your son. And if that is true, I would like to know why.”

  “It’s nothing personal. My son is not your average eighteen-year-old and...”

  “And neither is my daughter!” Ms. Alicia interrupted.

  “I never said she was.” Mr. Winston looked at Jeremy and then looked back at us. “But my son is my responsibility and I have to do everything I can as his father to protect him.”

  “And what exactly are you protecting him from, Mr. Winston?”

  “From the world, Mrs. Forrester.”

  “You can rest assure that there is nothing about Shante that you have to protect him from.”

  “Like I said, it’s nothing personal. In a perfect world I would like to think that everybody we meet had good intentions for my son, but that’s not the reality of his life. People want his spotlight. People want his abilities. People want his money...”

  Ms. Alicia stood up and interrupted Mr. Winston again. “Wait a minute! The last thing Shante needs from Jeremy is money! If we don’t have anything else, we have plenty of that, Mr. Winston!”

  “Ms. Alicia?” I whispered and gently held her hand to try to calm her down.

  “I’m sorry you’re offended. But I have to do what I have to do to protect my son.”

  “And I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry that a grown man can get so caught up in the fantastic world of the NBA that he doesn’t care if he hurts a young girl’s feelings.”

  “It doesn’t seem like Shante is hurt at all. You seem to be the only one upset about this.”

  “Just because she’s not saying it, it doesn’t mean that she’s not feeling it.”

  And Ms. Alicia was right. I did not like it any more than she did. But for the sake of keeping the peace with Jeremy, I ignored it.

  “I think we’ve said all we need to say, Mrs. Forrester. I’m missing a very important game, which could have implications on my son’s collegiate future.”

  “Let me tell you something, Mr. Winston...”

  “Mrs. Forrester?” Jeremy interrupted. “May I say something, please?”

  As much as Ms. Alicia wanted to keep fussing, she let Jeremy speak. “Go ahead.”

  “Dad, you know I have mad respect for you. And I never talk back to you or anything. But this time, I have to tell you, I think you’re wrong.”

  Damn! My boy was becoming a man! Ms. Alicia smiled and her opinion of Jeremy skyrocketed.

  “What did you say?”

  “I said I think you’re wrong this time, Dad. You judged Shante and you know nothing about her. You don’t know that she is the reason why I’m passing history. She tells me to study when I don’t feel like it. She is the one that I call for advice when a million reporters are trying to get at me. I hope I say this the right way.” Jeremy stood eye to eye with his dad. “Look, Dad, as your son, I understand every single thing you have ever done for me as my father. But as my father, you have to understand that you’re not going to be able to do every single thing for me. Does that make sense?”

  “It makes plenty of sense to me,” Ms. Alicia said sarcastically.

  Mr. Winston rolled his eyes at Ms. Alicia and then sighed. Jeremy sat next to me on the couch and held my hand.

  “I love playing basketball, Dad. I love practice. I love the games. I’ll even be honest and say I love the attention that comes with it.” Jeremy clutched my hand. “But I also love Shante. I know you grown people think we’re too young to know what love really is, and maybe we are, but I know how I feel about her right now today. And today is all that matters to me.”

  “You see, son, that’s why you need me to direct you because of that type of thinking.”

  Mrs. Winston walked into the den carrying some bags and looked at everybody in the room try
ing to figure out what the hell was going on.

  “Did I interrupt something?”

  “No, sweetheart, we’re about to wrap this meeting up. The Forresters were just leaving.”

  “The Forresters?” Mrs. Winston shook Ms. Alicia’s hand. “Are you Shante’s guardian?”

  “Yes I am. I’m Alicia Forrester.”

  “Wait a minute, you look familiar. What’s your maiden name?”

  “Murray. Alicia Murray.”

  “Did you happen to attend Spelman?”

  “Hold on, please tell me you are not Stephanie Ballard?”

  “Yes I am!” Mrs. Winston screamed.

  “Oh my God!” Ms. Alicia yelled back. “Stephanie!”

  Ms. Alicia and Mrs. Winston started jumping up and down and hugging each other. They were screaming so loudly we covered our ears. How do you go from perfect strangers to acting like long-lost friends? I guess I answered my own question, huh?

  “Baby,” Ms. Winston shouted, “Alicia is my sorority sister from when we were at Spelman!”

  “Oh, damn,” Mr. Winston growled as he lit a cigar.

  Ms. Alicia was a part of a sorority, Alpha Kappa Alpha, AKA, for short. It seemed like she was always running into one of her sorority sisters everywhere we went. Normally, I would have to wait in agony for her to relive her college days before we could get away, but this time, I was willing to wait all day and all night if I had to.

  “For real?” Jeremy nudged his shoulders. “Wow!”

  “Girl, sit down and tell me what you’ve been doing with yourself, Alicia.”

  “I’m married. I have two girls, Shante and Brit, not through the traditional way, but they’re mine just the same. And I don’t have to ask you what you’ve been doing. I know all about ol’ Jeremy over there. I’m so proud of him.”

  I said to myself, Oh you are?

  Mr. Winston shook his head and walked out of the room. Jeremy grabbed my hand and gave me a quick tour of their house. They had a nice house, but it was not as big as Uncle Mike’s. Uncle Mike’s house was huge, for real!

  Jeremy and I finished watching the rest of the first game of the Final Four and then we watched the entire second game uninterrupted. I really didn’t care who won. I was cheering for whoever Jeremy was cheering for. His cell phone rang or he was texted nonstop the entire time I was there. He ignored them, but I could hear his dad’s loud mouth talking to reporters, friends and everybody who called, throughout both games. That dude was like, making promises to this school, and then making the same promise to that school. All the while, Jeremy was sitting and listening.

  “Don’t you want to make some decisions about your own life, Jeremy?”

  “I do. That’s why you’re here now.”

  “But what about your career?”

  “What about it?”

  “It seems like your dad makes all the decisions.”

  “Basically, he does.”

  “Why? Why can’t you make some of the decisions about what you want to do?”

  “I make the decisions I need to make. My dad has choreographed my career from the time I was five years old and that’s why I’m in the position I’m in today. If it wasn’t for him, I’d just be another tall kid.”

  “No, you have talent.”

  “You think that’s all that it takes is talent? I’m down here because I made a bonehead move and hung out with some guys I had no business hanging out with. They got in some trouble and I was guilty by association.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  JEREMY’S STORY:

  “One night I was walking down the street with four guys from my old neighborhood and we stopped by a liquor store. My friend, Devron, and I stayed outside and my other friends, Bill, Derrick and DeAndre went inside to hustle these older guys into buying us some liquor. While we were standing outside, they were inside robbing the store. They pulled a gun on the cashier and then he pulled one on them and then they just started shooting. We heard the gunshots and then they came out of the store running. When they came out running, hell, I didn’t know what was up, so I ran, like everybody else. By the time my friend Devron figured out what was going on, it was too late. The cashier shot him in the back. Now he’s paralyzed for the rest of his life, and for what? Nothing!

  “The next day, the police came knocking on my door saying one of the witnesses fingered me. It wasn’t that hard. I’m seven feet tall running down the street like a runaway slave. I was arrested and charged with armed robbery. I had nothing to do with the robbery, though. I didn’t even know they were robbing the store.

  “My dad made some moves and the charges against me were dropped. My father knew he had to get me out of New York, so he talked it over with my mom, and she suggested we move down here. The very next day after my fall semester was over, we were packed and on our way to Atlanta.”

  END JEREMY’S STORY.

  • • •

  “My dad didn’t have to do all that for me, but he did because he loves me and he wants what’s best for me. He’s a hard-ass, and sometimes he comes off as insensitive, but he has invested a lot into my life. Not just with basketball, but with my making sure I stay on the right track. He doesn’t want to see me end up another statistic like a lot of those fools in prison.”

  “My dad is in prison, but he’s not a fool!”

  “Oh, here we go.” Jeremy hugged me. “I wasn’t talking about your dad, Butterfly. I don’t even know your dad.”

  “You better watch your mouth, boy!”

  “Man, look, I said I wasn’t talking about your dad.”

  “You need to be worried about being more in charge of your own life.”

  “Okay, Yoko Ono, this is what happened to John Lennon and the Beatles. I’m through discussing my dad.”

  “So are you telling me to be quiet?”

  “Nope, I would never disrespect you like that,” Jeremy paused momentarily, “I’m telling you to stop talking.”

  “Okay, Jeremy!”

  I pushed Jeremy back on the bed and then he pulled me on top of him.

  “Oh, my mom convinced my dad to let me go to the prom. You wanna go?”

  “Hell naw!” I joked.

  “What?” Jeremy tickled me.

  “I’m kidding! I’ll go! I’ll go! I hate being tickled!”

  His tickling turned to kissing. I slid between his thighs and I could feel his erect stick pressing against me. His big shorts made everything loose, so I started rubbing his legs. We stopped wrestling and began to grind on each other. I raised my head and kissed him on his chest. He turned his head to the side and I kissed his neck slowly. He was moaning louder than I was.

  As I kissed his neck, I rubbed his thigh, inching my hand closer and closer to his stick. I grabbed the base and then slowly caressed up and down outside of his shorts. I reached beneath his shorts, so that I could feel the real thing. He opened his legs and I had easy access.

  I pulled his stick out of his shorts and then held it in my hand. He was moaning as if we were really having sex. I was like, this dude must be a virgin, for real! His eyes were closed tight and it sounded like he could not breathe. The faster I pumped his stick, the louder he moaned and the faster he moved his hips. He grabbed my head and stuck his tongue in my mouth. We kissed at almost every opportunity we could, but he had never kissed me that aggressively.

  Although my hands were getting tired, he seemed to enjoy what I was doing, so I kept right on pumping and he kept right on moaning. His legs began to shake and his stick really got hard. The next thing I knew, a stream of white semen shot from the head of his stick and squirted everywhere, then another stream, and another stream and another stream.

  “Shit!” Jeremy pulled me to him and bit into my shoulder blade.

  I let go of Jeremy’s stick and moved the hell away from him. “Ouch, Jeremy! You bit me!”

  “I’m sorry, you all right?”

  I pulled my shirt from my shoulder and looked. “You put a mark on me!”


  “I’m sorry, Butterfly, but that felt good. You want me to do you?”

  “I’m only going to do something like that if you promise that you love me unconditionally.”

  “Why do I have to say that?”

  “Because if I let you touch me down there, I have to know that you are mine unconditionally.”

  “Okay then, yeah.”

  “Yeah what?”

  “Yeah, I love you unconditionally.”

  “Okay.” I leaned and then sat back up. “What if we get caught?”

  “By who? Your mom and my mom are too busy catching up with each other to be worried about us. And my dad, well, you hear my dad. He’s too busy trying to be Jerry Maguire.”

  “Okay. What do you want me to do, Jeremy?”

  “Lay back.”

  “Okay.” I leaned back.

  Jeremy unzipped my pants and slid his hand into my pants. Just the touch of his hand made me moist. He was lying on his right side, with his left hand in my pants. He raised my shirt and moved my bra out of the way. He lowered his head and kissed my nipples left to right. Then I realized why he was moaning so loudly when I touched him. That shit felt good!

  He kept sucking my breasts and sliding his finger closer to my vagina. Even though my pants were unzipped, it was still a tight fit for his hand. He only had room to move his fingers. He was trying to inch closer, but I put my hands on top of his and stopped him. I would let him play with my clit, stop him, and then let him do it again. He kept trying to move his fingers lower, but I kept moving his hand back up to my clit. The faster I moved his hand, the greater the sensation. I moved my hips down into the bed and then lifted them up and grinded on his hands. Wow!

  “Oh baby, that feels so good.”

  “You like that?”

  “Keep doing it like that.”

  “Like that?”

  “Stop talking and go faster!”

  “Oh, okay.”

  I could feel my orgasm approaching and seemed like I was about to explode. “Oh Jeremy! Oh, Jeremy! Oh Jeremy!”

  I wanted to say more than that, but my mind could not think right. All that I was focused on was the pleasure of having something other than my hand between my thighs.

  “Oh Jeremy, I’m coming, baby!” I screeched out a long moan.

 

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