I Gave Him My Heart

by Krystal Armstead

  My reputation had already been shot to shit. Everyone already thought I was a hoe anyway, so why not prove the muthafuckas right? Right? Wrong. I hung out with more boys than I did girls because the majority of the females that I knew had an issue with the way that I looked. I can’t tell you how many fights I’d gotten into just for being pretty. If I wasn’t defending myself, I was defending Nina. The girl couldn’t wear her long hair out without some bitch trying to yank it out. To avoid the drama, I hung around mostly males. Though most of them started to show feelings towards me, the relationship didn’t go any further than fondling. I let muthafuckas think what they wanted to think because people were going to talk regardless. Brittanie and Peanut assumed that what Bobbie did to me sent my body in heat, and Nina never questioned it. She didn’t understand why I wanted to have sex at such a young age, but she didn’t make me feel like a slut. It was the people around her that made me feel like a slut.

  People only saw my sex appeal when they looked at me. No one ever saw my talent. Never knew I could sing. Never knew that I could paint. Never knew that I could draw just as well as my cousin. Never knew that I wrote poetry and short stories. I was just as smart as my cousin, but no one ever saw it. All they saw were the rumors that were spread about me. Nina got all the shine in school because of her academic achievements, not to mention all of the art competitions that she’d won. Academics meant everything to my cousin. She was the smart one, and I was the hoe, as everyone else liked to tell it. School was her escape whereas mine was physical touch. And I hated myself because of that craving.

  I met Tyson Unique when I was thirteen. He lived in Compton. I met him after going to a Snoop Dog concert with some of my guy friends. He was cute as fuck. Brown skinned, pretty brown eyes, the perfect smile, the perfect teeth; everything about him was fly. He was the first nigga who taught me that I didn’t have any real male friends. To prove it to me, he dared me to offer any of the dudes I rolled with some pussy and to watch their reaction. Out of the ten guys that I asked, twelve said hell yeah (the ten dudes I rolled with plus two of one of my dude’s friends). Niq’ (I loved calling him by his shortened last name) was my nigga. He was smart as hell. He was one of the only guys I knew who didn’t approach me in a sexual way.

  I never introduced Niq’ to my friends because I just knew that they would make fun of the fact that I was really in love with that dude. No infatuation, no lust, no sexual desire. I just wanted to be next to him. I remember one day; I broke my ankle during cheerleading practice. I had to wear a cast for a month. This dude would massage my feet and paint my toenails. It wasn’t until the night that this man washed my hair for me, gently massaging my scalp, that I wanted him to massage more. We had sex for the first time, Thanksgiving Day 1996 to be exact. And it wasn’t until Christmas Eve that year that I found out that I was pregnant. I was just thirteen-years-old and pregnant.

  On Christmas, my mom threw a dinner party at one of her boyfriend’s banquet halls. She told me to invite whoever I wanted. I intended on telling my girls that I was pregnant. Nina was the first person that I planned on telling that day before I told anyone else. I’ll never forget; I was sitting at the fancy banquet table with Nina, about to tell her about Niq’, when my cousin, Justine, walked into the dining hall with her dinner date, followed behind Brittanie with her dinner date. And last, but not least, Peanut strolled in with her date, Niq’. Turned out, the two had been dating off and on for a year. I had absolutely no idea. He never once mentioned that he had a got-damn girlfriend. I showed the nigga tons of pictures of my girls, and he never once mentioned that Peanut was his girlfriend. I was around that nigga for damn near six months and he never once mentioned any other girl to me. He played me. I loved that muthafucka with the very life of me, and he fuckin’ played me. From that point on, I was on my fuck-love-and-anything-to-do-with-that-bullshit-tip. A week after New Year’s, I scheduled an abortion.

  Chapter Two

  Fuck Love

  1998

  1998 was the year of Ricque Cole. This dude was the hottest shit poppin’ off in those days. He was a rapper/singer/actor. And the nigga showed up at Francis Parker High. I can’t tell you how many bitches were all over that nigga, but he only had his eye on one - my cousin, Nina. She pretended not to be in love with him, but that didn’t last too long. She needed that boy. He was all about her, and she was all about him. She had always been so cool and laid back, something I was sure that dude wasn’t used to. He was used to girls in high-heels and expensive clothing drooling over his ass. Nina, on the other hand, just treated the boy like he was a normal person. Sure the sound of his voice serenaded her heart, but she played it cool around him. She started off as his tutor (which we later found out was a front to get closer to her), and ended up being his first true love and vice versa. My boo needed every bit of love that that boy gave her because Aunt Rayna sure as hell wasn’t giving it to her. She was too busy fuckin’ to give a fuck about her daughter’s needs back then.

  “They make an awesome couple; don’t they, Kourtney?” Ricque’s friend, Ernesto Ortez, whispered in my ear one day at the movies.

  I rolled my eyes at him as he slid his arm over my shoulder. Ricque had gotten us tickets to see “Rush Hour” almost three months before the movie was supposed to come out. We had the theater all to ourselves. There had to be at least thirty people that Ricque invited; most of which consisted of his staff members and their dates. Ricque hated riding with a huge entourage, but his manager always seemed to bring the world with them wherever they went. Nina and Ricque sat across the theater in a row to themselves, and I sat alone with Ernesto.

  Ernesto really liked me. I mean, he liked everything about me. Not just my looks but my everything. From the way I rolled my eyes to the way I smacked my lips. He was one of the hottest, sexiest Dominican teenaged boys that I’d ever met. I tried my damnest to not fall for this boy, even though he made it damn near impossible. He was the color of creamy peanut butter, with gray eyes and jet-black hair. He had the cutest smile and the sexiest foreign accent I’d ever heard. His voice was amazing, and it was hard to listen to this dude talk to me in Spanish, which was all that came out of his mouth some days. I never knew what he was saying, but whatever it was, soothed my soul. He stayed giving me compliments. It was to the point where I would do just about anything to avoid the compliments. He would tell me that I had the prettiest hazel green eyes he’d ever seen; my mean ass would put in dark brown contacts just to piss him off.

  By the time I was kicking it with Ricque’s crew, I was on my fuck-love-tip. I graduated from touchin’ and suckin’ niggas to fuckin’ niggas. That freshman year alone, I think I might have had sex with about fifteen guys, all of which were seniors. Mom tried to tame me by making sure Nina went with me everywhere that I went, but that didn’t help much. Shit, with them got-damn hips on Nina? Niggas were flying left and right to get to us once we stepped through those high-school doors. And Nina’s smart, innocent, schoolgirl appeal made the niggas want us even more. Put both of us in the same room and those other bitches might as well have gone the hell home. I was so glad that Nina was nothing like me. She didn’t use her body the way I knew I would have if I had the body she did. She kept a level head, and I wish I could have kept one, too. My past had taken a toll on my heart.

  After finding out Peanut was dating Niq’, I only kicked it with her every now and then. You already knew she felt some type of way about me basically ditching her. Both Peanut and Brittanie wanted to kick it with Ricque’s crew, too. Every now and then, we’d invite them, but Nina was the main person that I wanted to be around. She wouldn’t let me get into too much trouble. She let me have my little fun, and she never judged me. She never understood the root of my problems, but she knew that I needed her. I depended on Nina. She kept me from going all out on a suicide mission. Watching her with Ricque gave my heart a little boost at times, but it still never made me want a nigga falling in love with me. I just used boys for fun. Boys were t
oys. All except Ernesto who refused to be used and tossed away like the others.

  It was June 22nd, Ernesto’s birthday. It was his idea to go out to a movie before we all went over Ricque’s aunt and uncle’s crib to party until the sun came up. Shit, it was the summer time, and school was fuckin’ over. Nina and I basically ran the streets the entire summer. After two months of playing hard to get, Nina finally let Ricque inside of her. Literally. Nina gave it to him on his seventeenth birthday, June 1st, the week of finals. Her mother overheard a conversation that we were having that night about Nina’s first time, and from that point on, she swore she was going to keep Nina away from Ricque. Sure, yeah right, that was a got-damn lie. Aunt Rayna would tell Nina to stay her ass in the house, and as soon as she was out the door, so was Nina.

  Ernesto turned seventeen-years-old that month, too. You couldn’t tell that boy he wasn’t a man. He stayed with his cousins, who lived on the Naval base as well, not too far from my house. I didn’t know much about Ernesto, but what I did know about him was that he was the oldest of eight children. His parents died in a plane crash when he was ten years old, leaving all eight of the children to be separated throughout the family. It was as if every last one of my crew had a hurtful past. But no matter how much that boy was hurting, he kept that smile on his face. He was living the life. Ricque made sure of that.

  “So, you gonna let me unwrap my birthday present tonight?” Ernesto gripped my thigh in his hands. “Dame un poco de ese azúcar moreno (Give me some of that brown sugar).”

  I looked at him, trying not to giggle.

  There he was, gray eyes searching my face. Biting that lip of his. I think Ricque’s crew was the first group of boys that I saw making gold, platinum, or silver teeth look sexy as a muthafucka. Any other time, I hated seeing hood niggas with a mouthful of gold teeth. But on those boys, it looked dope as fuck. I can’t tell you how good that cold metal felt grazing against my clit when Ernesto put my pussy in his mouth. I had been having sex with that boy from the day the crew showed up to Francis Parker, two and a half months earlier. I tried my best to stay emotionally detached from Ernesto. During sex, I barely looked him in the face, though he’d often grab my face, trying to make me give him eye contact. I tried not to let him kiss me, but he’d always find a way to trap my lips in his, often biting my bottom lip to keep me from turning away. He gave my heart a serious jolt, but I didn’t try to get to know that boy outside of the bedroom. He tried telling me about himself, but I’d always change the subject. I didn’t have time to get personal with a nigga. I was on my lick-my-pussy-fuck-me-right-then-leave-muthafucka shit.

  “You can open it now if you want, Ernie.” I grinned, getting up from my seat, pulling my tight Tommy capris over my hips a little. “Meet me in the ladies bathroom in about five minutes.”

  Ernesto grinned, eyeing my belly button ring dangling as I slid past him, on the way out of the row that we were sitting and into the aisle.

  I winked at him as I made my way up the aisle and to the bathroom. I waited in that got-damn bathroom a good fifteen minutes before growing impatient. I stormed out of the bathroom, about to go back into the movie cinema that we were seated in, when I paused in the lobby to see Ernesto laughing his ass off with Niq’.

  My heart nearly stopped in my chest. I hadn’t seen Niq’ since Christmas, 1996. It had been almost two years since I’d seen that boy, and when I tell you he was looking like a sexy cup of hot chocolate, I mean that shit.

  I cleared my throat, walking up on Ernesto and Niq’ chatting away, seeming to be catching up on old times.

  Ernesto looked back at me. He grinned, grabbing me by my hand as I approached him. He pulled my body super close to his. “Tyson, this is my girl, Kourtney. Kourtney, this is my homeboy, Tyson. We used to live next to one another when his mother lived in New York. Yo, it’s been a long time, for real!”

  Niq’ looked at me. “Yeah, sure has. How are you, Kourtney?”

  I rolled my eyes, turning to Ernesto, looking up into his face as Ernesto kissed me.

  Niq’ grinned a little, looking at me as I licked the moisture of the kiss from my lips. He looked back at Ernesto. “I gotta go catch up with my family. I’m taking my niece out for her birthday. I’m free tonight, bruh. What y’all getting’ into tonight? I already know you and Ricque’s crew are gonna hit up a club or something.”

  “Nah. Vamos a tener una fiesta esta noche. We’re having a party tonight. It’s my birthday, homie.” Ernesto dapped Niq’. “If you don’t have plans, why don’t you roll through?”

  Niq’ nodded, grinning at me, and then back at Ernesto. “A’ight, bet. What time is the party?”

  I sighed, rolling my eyes. “Lawd.” I muttered to myself.

  ***

  I sat alone outside on the back porch of Ricque’s aunt and uncle’s mansion, smoking a cigarette. I was so pissed. There I was, supposed to be having fun with my celebrity crew, and I was mentally having a panic attack about seeing Niq’ again. I still loved that boy. No matter how bad I was hurt about what happened a year and a half earlier, I still missed him. Turned out that Peanut was pregnant back in 1996 at the same time that I was pregnant with Niq’s baby. She had twins by the nigga at the end of July, a few weeks before my baby would have been due. The two dated for about a year before they broke up. Peanut was so hurt. She really loved Niq’. Probably just as much as I did.

  “Hey, homie!” Nina bopped me on the back of my head before sitting down beside me on the porch.

  I rolled my eyes, grinning at her as she handed me a can of Fanta Orange soda. “Hey, boo.”

  Nina looked my face over as I popped the top of the soda. “Why are you sitting over here alone when everyone else is over there chilling at the pool? You’re too cute to be over here looking all sad, ladybug.” Nina flipped one of my long cornrow braids over my shoulder. “And please put that cigarette out. You’re too cute to smoke that bullshit, too.”

  My eyes glossed over a little as I flicked the half-smoked cigarette into the grass. I took a sip from my soda can. “You see that dude over there that Ernesto is talking to?”

  Nina glanced over at Niq and then back at me. “Yeah, that’s Tyson, Peanut’s ex-boyfriend. Why? What about him?”

  I sighed. “He was mine, too. I dated him for like six months before even finding out that he was seeing Peanut, too.”

  Nina’s eyes widened. “What? Say word…”

  I nodded. “Girl, that nigga had me sprung. The only boy that I ever loved. I couldn’t believe that he was dating Peanut’s ol skinny ass. Had no idea he was dating the trick until he showed up with her to Christmas dinner in 1996. Broke my heart all to pieces. He could’ve been Mr. Kourtney Chambers.”

  Nina laughed out loud. “I don’t think that’s how it works, cuz, but I feel you.”

  We looked over at the crew laughing and joking with Niq’. He glanced over at the two of us looking his way.

  Nina shied her eyes away, facing me, but I kept staring at him.

  We locked eyes until he finally sat whatever it was that he was drinking on the picnic table that sat alongside the pool and rose from the table.

  Nina sighed, looking over at Niq’ as he approached us. “Kourtney, you are at Ernesto’s birthday party, remember? I swear, if you leave the party with this nigga, knowing Ernesto really lo—”

  “Nina, he’s just coming over to say hi; that’s it.” I rolled my eyes at Nina.

  Nina shook her head, rolling her eyes back at me. “I can’t even blame you for your indiscretions, you’re only imitating the life of your mother. If you wanna follow in her footsteps, who am I to stop you? I’m only your best friend, who wants what’s best for you.”

  I looked at Nina as she rose from the porch, making her exit just as Niq’ approached me.

  “What’s up, Nina?” he said to her back as she strolled past him, on her way back over to her man who stood alongside the pool.

  Nina waved him off, smacking her lips at him, not sayin
g so much as a hello.

  Niq’ laughed her coldness off and then came over and sat beside me on the porch.

  Oh, he smelled so good. He was dressed in a crisp white t-shirt, sagging ankle-length jean shorts, white baseball cap, and fresh, white Nikes.

  I felt him eying my profile, but I didn’t look his way. I just sipped from my soda.

  “How you been, Ma?” Niq’ asked.

  I didn’t say anything. I just held my soda in both hands.

  “So, when did you start kickin’ it with Ricque and his crew?” Niq’ wanted to know.

  I still continued to ignore his stupid ass.

  “So, you’re not gonna talk to a nigga, huh?” Niq’ laughed a little. “I came here to talk to you, and you’re just gonna ignore me?” I felt his eyes staring at my profile. “Say something. Anything.”

  “Fuck you, nigga.” I snapped. After not speaking to him for year and a half, it felt so good to let those three words out.

  Niq’ took a deep breath. “I guess I deserve that.”

  “You guess?” I rolled my eyes. “You didn’t tell me about her, Niq’. You were one of my best friends, Niq’, and you lied to me about having a girlfriend! But not just any girlfriend, my best friend!”

  “Kourtney, she wasn’t my girl. We slept together every now and then, but she wasn’t my girl,” Niq’ said, sounding like a typical nigga who didn’t know how to admit that he’d fucked up.

  I looked at him. “You expect me to believe that dumb ass shit, Niq’? If that was the case, why the fuck did you act like you didn’t know me when she introduced you to us at my mother’s Christmas dinner party? You played me, and you never once told me that you were sorry!”