Never Again, No More
Page 5
LaMeka
Charice hung up the phone on me so fast that I didn’t have a chance to ask if she could take me and Tony Jr. to his therapy session. But I knew why she did. Well, not exactly, but I could speculate. I’d been friends with her long enough to know that her reaction had Ryan Westmore written all over it. I loved her, but I wished she would let go of this fantasy that Ryan was going to one day wake up and come running back to her like Prince fucking Charming, marry her, take her and their kids, and ride the fuck off into the sunset. Oh, but there was a sunset. The sun set on their relationship when she first told his no-good ass that she was pregnant. If I could turn back the hands of time, I never would’ve walked with Miranda and Charice over to that football table back when I was a high school freshman. Hell, I wouldn’t have let Charice walk over there. Both of our lives had changed dramatically that day, and that change had come attached to two names: Ryan Westmore and Tony Light.
I wasn’t as smart and talented as Charice. She had actually had a chance at finishing school with an actual high school diploma and going to college for dance, except God had thrown one more monkey wrench in her plans and had given her three times the blessing instead of one. I, on the other hand, had dropped out because I hated school in the first place, with the exception of science, and I had got pregnant in high school by Tony, but there was a story behind that.
In high school Tony had been Ryan’s protégé, so to speak. Tony had had the potential to be every bit as good as Ryan, if not better, and Ryan had molded him. Tony had played football and had run track and had been one of the school’s premier athletes. However, compared to Ryan, he had been a little more subtle in the way he handled things. While Ryan had approached Charice at the lunch table, in front of everyone, that day, Tony had caught up with me in our sixth-period science class. In fact, we’d been science partners. I remembered that conversation like it had happened yesterday.
“You know, your girl and my boy are going to be the new ‘it’ couple now that Stephanie and Joe have graduated. It’s going to be Miranda and Rodney and then Ryan and Charice,” Tony told me.
I smiled. “I guess so,” I said, putting some of the contents of the petri dish on the slide.
“So when Miranda and Rodney graduate, who is going to be the next ‘it’ couple with Ryan and Charice?” Tony asked.
“I’m not sure, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me,” I said to him, examining the slide under the microscope.
When I looked up, Tony stared back at me. “Me and you,” he said.
I had a crush on Tony but played coy. “You think?”
“I know.”
“Talk about confidence.”
“Tell me you don’t like me, then,” Tony said, challenging me.
I wanted to say I didn’t, but that would’ve been a bald-faced lie. Just looking at him made chills run down my spine. Tony Light was extremely fair skinned, had a few freckles, and had red hair, which he kept in braids. He was the perfect blend of light. Not albino light and not dirty red. He was a nice clean-cut, handsome, fair-skinned fellow who had long, slender legs and a masculine upper body. Not to mention, his head was in the right place. Oh yes, I was definitely feeling Mr. Light. But I didn’t let on.
“Cat got your tongue?” he asked, smiling at me.
“Huh?”
He laughed, having realized that my lack of response clearly meant I was feeling him. “You know you’re the right woman for Mr. Light. We are royalty in the making. I’m the next Ryan Westmore, and you’re the next Charice Taylor. I like you, LaMeka, so let’s do this.”
You couldn’t wipe the blush off my face if you tried. “Tony, do you really want me to be your girlfriend?”
He nodded his head yes. “Girl, ain’t that what I’ve been saying for the past five minutes?”
“Well, as your girlfriend, let me tell you we better finish this assignment before Mr. Hopper gives us both detention for talking.” I pointed to the front of the room, where the teacher was standing and glaring at us.
Tony grabbed the microscope and peered inside. “Hurry up and write something before he comes over here,” he whispered. I giggled and began writing down my initial findings.
That was how Tony and I began dating. Unlike Ryan, Tony was extremely thoughtful and was a good boyfriend. When I say that, I mean it. He even went so far as to help me with my schoolwork. Most guys wanted nothing but sex during alone time with their girl, but not Tony. He wanted the best for himself, and because of that, he wanted the best for me. For instance, since he was good in all subject areas in school, he helped me, because if it wasn’t science, I wasn’t interested. I remembered one night of studying in particular.
“Did you hear me, Tony?” I asked him. We were at his house. He was studying as I flipped through a magazine.
“Yeah, I did,” he answered, his head still in his book.
“So what did I say?”
“Huh?” he asked, looking up at me.
“You didn’t hear me,” I said angrily.
He sighed and closed the book. “Babe, we are supposed to be studying. You are so good at science, but when it comes to other subjects, like social studies, algebra, English . . . hell, all of them, you couldn’t care less. Why?”
“Because I hate school, and science is the only subject that interests me. Everyone can’t be a brainiac like you.”
“Yes, you can. You just have to break it down in a format you can understand.”
I shrugged. “So show me, genius.”
Gazing at me, he accepted the challenge and called my bluff. “Grab your book and sit down.”
“What?” I asked, laughing.
“You heard me.”
I groaned but did as I was told.
With a serious expression, he said, “Okay, so say we’re studying about the law—”
“I know about the law. It ain’t for black people,” I joked.
He laughed and nodded in agreement. “I can’t argue with that, but still, the law would be like a person. The president is like the brain. Congress would be the major organs.”
My eyes flashed, as I understood what he was getting at. “I see where you’re going.”
“Exactly.” He kissed my forehead. “By the time we’re finished, you’ll love every subject in school.”
I didn’t understand everything that night, but I had a better understanding of social studies, and my baby was the key to that. He helped me, and we encouraged each other. I loved the fact that he took everything in his life seriously, even his athletics. Tony wasn’t egotistical like the other ballers, who used sports as a means to gain in popularity and attract females. He actually had goals in life. After making competing at the Olympics one of his goals, Tony discussed his options with his parents, trainer, and track coach. Tony was already ranked third in the region in running. And he’d never admit it, but he was better than his so-called mentor, Ryan. Ryan was fifth, which really burned his ego. With time and a little practice, Tony was on his way to becoming number one.
Our relationship was built for romance novels. We had dated since ninth grade, and we were definitely the “it” couple after surviving four complete years of being together. Don’t get me wrong. We had a few rough spells. We both cheated on the other once, but we rekindled our relationship because we realized how much we had taken each other for granted and how much we loved one another.
I later learned that the reason Tony cheated was that his boys had convinced him that he was being soft by staying tied down to one girl. Tony didn’t want to admit that he was in love with me, which also prompted him to cheat. I suspected he was cheating because for two weeks, he was really evasive with me, not returning my calls as he had promised and making excuses not to see me. See, besides being a couple, Tony and I were thick as thieves. So I knew that this was not typical. Now, because I had older friends, they schooled me on what that behavior meant. Either Tony was tired of being in a relationship with me and didn’t know how to break
up or he was cheating. When we saw each other, he acted as if everything was okay, so I figured it was the latter of the two reasons. And so I did my own investigation into the matter.
This was where boys were dumb. Routines spoke louder than words. If you changed up the routine, your words had better match. I knew that every Friday before a game, the football team met at their favorite McDonald’s to chill and grab some food. Usually, the girlfriends would be there as well. It was another place to show you were a “couple” with a popular boy or girl. This fool had the nerve to tell me he wasn’t going to go one Friday, and he gave me some lame-ass excuse, one that I no longer remembered. I played it cool, though, and my girl, Trinity, and I rolled up to the Mickey D’s to check out the situation. Surprisingly, there was my boyfriend, hugged up with the slut of the year, Monica Simmons. Initially, I thought maybe he was playing, but when she kissed him on the mouth, that was all the proof I needed. I took pictures with my cell phone and left.
No confrontation was needed, because I had my own plan. What boys failed to realize was that girls turned down boys’ advances every day. A young boy’s hopes of getting ass were enough to make him betray many a friend. Tony didn’t know that two of his so-called “boys” had already approached me. So I took Trey Watts up on his offer. Tony had already taken my virginity in the ninth grade, so in our sophomore year, I didn’t feel bad about letting Trey hit this good stuff. Knowing that slut Monica, Tony had definitely hit that. Trust me, she wasn’t a slut by rumor. She was a slut by admission. She had no problem confirming the guys she’d slept with or stolen from another chick. She had to be the most hated female at school. So I called Trey up, he came to my house, we did it, and the next day we strolled through school together, with his arm around my shoulder.
Talk about an explosion. Tony was laughing it up with his boys, but when Trey and I did the proverbial “walk” down the main hall together with his best friend and my girls, Tony couldn’t hide the fact that he was pissed. I thought he’d just be jealous and let it go, but no, he confronted Trey right in the hallway, and one of the biggest fights of the year ensued. In the end, Tony beat Trey like he had stolen something. I confronted Tony about being with Monica by showing him my cellphone pictures and, of course, revealing her admission of having slept with him. Begrudgingly, he admitted it, and we broke up.
After a couple of weeks, Tony came over to talk to me. He told me that he’d slept with Monica because he’d fallen in love with me. That made no sense to me, until he admitted he had got a lot of pressure from his boys to be a player, and this was the only reason he’d cheated. Also, he admitted that seeing me with another guy had made it clear to him that he’d rather be picked on for being in love than lose me. That was when I admitted that I’d been with Trey only out of revenge. We forgave each other. After that fiasco, we decided it was best to stay together and not let people influence how we felt about one another.
When I looked back now, it dawned on me that we were a lot more grown up then than we were now. For a couple of teenagers, we made wise decisions based on love. That was until the end of my junior year, when we decided that we were too horny to use a condom. That sole incident led to the conception of our son, Tony Jr. I was due in March, and with the sickness I endured due to the pregnancy, there was no way I could keep up with my studies. Since school was already a struggle for me, I decided to drop out.
Tony’s parents and my mom were extremely pissed that we’d fallen into the same trap as our friends. However, Tony’s parents wanted him to succeed, and my mom, the low-budget bitch that she was, just kept telling me that I wasn’t shit and that I’d finally proved it. Tony’s parents were supportive toward me, too, and told me that they’d help me with the baby, but Tony was still going to do the things he needed to do in his life, such as finish high school, go to college, and go to the Olympics, for which he’d finally qualified. I was fine with that, since he wanted to stay with me and our child. He was adamant that accomplishing his goals was for our future.
Tony graduated from high school with honors. While I was happy for him, I was a little jealous that while I had to care for our son, he got the benefit of graduating. Hell, I’d busted my ass in school too. In addition, he got the chance to celebrate his trip to the Summer Olympics with a banging senior trip. While he was training nonstop, Tony left the brunt of the responsibility for our son on me. His mom helped, but of course, she was just as focused on Tony’s career as he and his dad were.
One day, I got a call that would change our lives forever. The week Tony was set to leave to compete for the Summer Olympics, he went out to hang with his boys after we had gotten into an argument about him spending less time with his boys and more with the baby. Apparently, they drank a lot, and Tony swerved as he went around a sharp curve in the road and got into an accident. Although I was distraught, the fact that he was still alive was a great relief. That was, until I got to the hospital.
“Mrs. Light!” I screamed when I saw Tony’s mom in the hallway outside Tony’s room.
She hugged me and took the baby out of my arms as tears poured down my face. “He’s in the room,” she cried.
“Is he all right?” I asked through my tears.
“He’s alive but . . .” Her voice trailed off as tears flowed down her face.
“But what?”
She shook her head, unable to speak, as she slowly sat down on a bench with the baby. An eerie feeling tapped at the pit of my stomach as I headed toward the room and the unknown. When I walked in the room, I found Tony literally in tears as his dad held his hand while praying and comforting him.
“Tony,” I said softly, causing them both to look up. I rushed to his side. “I’m so glad you’re all right.”
“All right?” he said, his voice filled with disgust. “All right!”
“You could’ve been killed, baby. I was so worried,” I wailed, grabbing his hand.
He quickly snatched it away. “This is your fucking fault!”
“Wh-what?” I asked in disbelief.
“If I had never gotten into that argument with you, I wouldn’t have been drinking, and I wouldn’t have done this!” he screamed.
I looked at his dad for answers, and he obliged. “Tony’s leg was crushed in the accident. He’s going to have to have surgery to repair the damage.”
“Oh God!” I cried.
“So there goes my fucking future!” Tony yelled.
My heart dropped, but just as quickly, I hoped to offer him some comfort during this time of despair. Rubbing his shoulder, I said softly, “You’ll get better—”
“You are so damn stupid!” he yelled, interrupting me. “Who gives a damn about being better? I won’t be able to run. Not now, not later, and not ever again!” he screamed.
“Tony, calm down. It’s not her fault. She loves you,” his dad said sternly. Seeing the dejected expression on my face, his father continued, “I’m sorry, LaMeka. Maybe you should leave. You can come and see him when he’s a little calmer and levelheaded.”
Not up for an argument, I agreed. “I love you, Tony.”
He rolled his eyes as I turned and walked out of the room. I took the baby from his mom and headed home.
That moment changed Tony. During the surgery, he had so many pins and screws placed in his leg. The physical therapy after that was excruciating, to say the least, and despite all of that, he still walked with a slight limp. Even though he didn’t want it, he was able to get disability due to his injury. He hated being labeled as a cripple and felt that being on disability did just that. Worst of all, Tony refused to go to college, even after being offered an academic scholarship, since he could not, for obvious reasons, accept the track scholarship. After a year of staying home, drinking, and smoking weed, his dad kicked him out of the house. That was when he came to live with Tony Jr. and me in public housing. We continued to live off the system, and we used his disability checks as an additional source of income.
Then I got pregnant
again with our second child, LaMichael. That was also around the time I noticed something odd with Tony Jr. He would sit in a room full of kids, such as at his pediatrician’s office, and not interact at all. He’d just gaze at everything around him. I knew he wasn’t blind or deaf, because he could walk by himself and he responded when I called him. He would mimic sounds and repeatedly say, “Mama.” After having him tested by specialists, I found out that he was autistic. When I told Tony, the news seemed to send him into an uncontrollable downward spiral. After finding that out, he became someone no one knew.
“He’s what?” he asked, confused, while he drank out of the orange juice carton as we stood in the kitchen.
“Autistic. Tony Jr. has autism,” I cried as I sat holding the test results in my hands.
“What the fuck is autism?”
“It’s a developmental disorder that affects certain neurological functions of the brain, like the ability to communicate or interact,” I explained.
He looked dumbfounded. “So you’re saying my son has a disorder, and he can’t get his mind right?”
“Why you gotta put it like that?”
“Are you telling me my son is a fucking retard?” Tony yelled at me.
His comment pissed me off, but somebody had to remain calm. Instead of lashing out, as he had done, I decided to attempt to have an adult conversation. “No he’s not. Most autistic kids are very intelligent.”
“So he’s a damn weirdo?”
That was it! “God, Tony! Do you have to be so harsh about this? He’s our son, and this is very real. Be serious and stop trying to overanalyze this! And stop disrespecting our son!”
He shot a glare at me. “Oh, and look who just stepped off the short bus themselves. You’ve been around these doctors so much, you’re starting to sound like one. I’m the one who had to help you with your English, or have you forgotten? I’m the one who graduated, so stop treating me like I’m just some illiterate hood nigga!”
My mouth flew open. We’d been arguing more and more, but Tony had never been so disrespectful. Sure, I wasn’t a self-proclaimed genius like he was, but I was nowhere near stupid. I just didn’t like school, and it wasn’t solely my fault that I had never graduated from high school. So to say I was pissed was an understatement.