Niya

by Fabiola Joseph

  She looked at me for a brief moment, and when I felt her hand in my hair, I wanted to find out where this was about to go.

  “Oh, you don’t know?” Niya asked as I felt her finger roaming through the back of my hair. “Is this going to help you?” she asked, and then she pulled me in close to her and kissed my lips. “Tell me, Jamilla, do you know now?”

  Another wet and delicious kiss. My body was begging my mind, asking it to throw caution to the wind. Her lips left mine and traveled down my neck. She was rough, she was intense, and she acted as if she would do whatever it took to get an answer out of me.

  “Tell me what the fuck you were about to say, Jamilla.”

  I tried to speak the truth, but it just wouldn’t come out.

  “So . . .” A kiss. “You want to play this game with me?” Another kiss. “Jamilla, I am going to get this shit out of you even if that means fucking it out of you.”

  Now her kiss was long, wet, and forceful. She stood me up while our mouths wrestled to the sounds of Melanie Fiona’s “Bones.”

  I needed to feel her. I needed to have her. I needed to have her love me. So after we landed on the bed, I let things go further than I should have. As she kissed me, she flipped me on my back, slipped her hands down my pants, and demanded an answer.

  “What were you going to say?” she asked as her fingers met my clit, and even if I had wanted to, I wouldn’t have been able to answer. “Look at you, eyes all rolling to the back of your fucking head. Tell me. Tell me what you were about to say.”

  The funny thing was, she was asking me to answer, yet her mouth constantly covered mine. The faster she moved her hand, the more open I became about telling her the words that were stuck on my tongue just a few minutes before.

  “Go on. That’s right, Milla boo. Tell me, baby. Just go on and tell me.”

  As my body was pulled to the edge with her skillful handiwork, I let it out. “Niya, baby, Niya.”

  “Say that shit.”

  I wasn’t ready, but I had to . . . Oh shit. I was about to cum, and so were my words. I was about to ejaculate verbally the one thing that I just didn’t want to release.

  “Niya, oh fuck. Yes, Niya . . .”

  “Fuck, Jamilla. Just say that shit.”

  I looked into her eyes, and I just couldn’t hold back anymore. My body, my mind, my spirit were being taunted by her carnal powers. Sexually, she had defeated me, but mentally, I would still be the winner in the game of denial.

  I reached up and pulled her lips to mine. Between kisses I said, “Niya, baby, I’m about to cum, baby.”

  “Yes, Jamilla. Say it, baby.”

  “Oh, fuck. I’m cumming. Shit. Fuck.”

  “And?”

  The answer never came, although I was sure we both knew what it was.

  Chapter 46

  Niya

  It was crazy. She lay on my bed, sweaty, satisfied, and looked as if she has just seen a damn ghost. The air was filled with relief on my end, but I wasn’t so sure about hers. My body had relaxed after hearing the truth after all this damn time. Sadly, though, as I looked at her, I saw that all pleasure had left her body after she came. She just lay there, staring at the ceiling, and said nothing. I was afraid to speak, afraid that I would say the wrong thing. So I waited for her to declare her stance on her revelations.

  “I’m thirsty,” were her first words. I got off the bed, went into the bathroom, washed my hands, and came back with a bottle of water. She took it from me and sat up as I got back on the bed. Her back was to me as she sipped her drink. I sat with my back against the wall and watched her from behind. I watched her back rise and fall as she took in and exhaled deep, long breaths.

  “Jamilla, are you okay?”

  “Yeah . . . I’m fine.” She took another deep breath and still just sat there.

  “Jamilla, look at me.” I touched her back, but she pulled away, as if my touch was no longer needed.

  “Niya, listen, what I just said—”

  “Aw, hell no. We are not about to do this shit. It doesn’t matter what you said or didn’t say. We know the fucking truth.” I could feel my face turning red. She was starting to piss me off.

  “I wasn’t going to say . . . I just, I just—”

  “You just what, Jamilla?” I asked as I rolled my eyes. I was getting tired of her shit. Just when I thought that we had finally had a breakthrough, she wanted to take ten fucking steps back.

  “I don’t want you to think that what happened changed anything. I . . . I still don’t think that I could really be with a woman.”

  I jumped off that bed and within seconds was on my feet. “What the fuck do you mean? Man, you know what? Forget it. Honestly, I’m sick of this shit. Do what you want, say what you want, and feel how you want. This game you’re playing is called solitaire, ’cause I’m not joining in.”

  “That’s a real fucked-up thing to say. Why the fuck can’t you understand what I am going through? Look how long it took you to face the truth about who you really are.”

  “Really? You are trying to compare me to you? I have known that I liked girls for some time now. I didn’t go around hiding it. I just didn’t speak on it.”

  Jamilla started to laugh, and that shit boiled my blood. “So when Rodney called you out on the street, you didn’t say that you weren’t gay?” she said.

  The stare off began. I was trying to think back to that night, but anger wouldn’t let me take a trip back down memory lane.

  “Look, you are going to have to face the fact that you like girls sooner or later. Whatever you do, stop using me as a crutch to lean on. ‘Finger fuck me, Niya, but I’m not gay.’ ‘I love you, Niya, but I’m not gay.’ Bitch, you are gay.”

  I didn’t mean to call her a bitch, but fuck it. I was mad.

  “Bitch? You are going to call me a bitch ’cause I won’t admit to something I am not even sure of? Fuck you, bitch. Fucking dyke-ass bitch. How fucking dare you?”

  I had to look away from her to stop myself from slapping her clear across the face. I was at my breaking point, and for some reason, I knew that it would take a while for things to get back to normal between us.

  “Now ain’t that the dyke calling the dyke . . . a dyke. Yeah, I’m a lesbian, but I can face my truth,” I snapped. “How about you? You sure it’s not getting too tight in that ‘straight’ box you’re trying to fit into? You sure that the ‘straight’ air ain’t suffocating you? Yeah, I’m gay, but at the end of my day . . . I know just who the fuck I am. I’m not a wannabe straight girl who likes to get finger popped by a full-fledged pussy-eating lesbian.”

  I got real close to her face and held her chin so that she would look directly into my eyes. “You are a fucking dyke, a lesbian, and no matter how you word it . . . that’s what the fuck you are. Now, deal with that shit all on your own. I’m done. You say you love me. Well, now you are going to have to prove that shit. I think that I have done my part. Now it’s time to show and prove on your end.”

  “Fuck you, Niya. Get the hell off of me,” was all she said.

  I looked around the room, grabbed my phone, and left her ass sitting right there on my damn bed. That shit was for the birds. I loved the girl with every fucking thing I had in me, but goddamn!

  Chapter 47

  Jamilla

  She walked out, and to me, that was the ultimate disrespect. I wasn’t sure if what I had just said was the truth or was built on emotions or not. Truth was, I had found myself looking at Rodney harder than I should have. He was cute, and for a few seconds while at his house, I had noticed him in a way I had never done before. It was quick, and I don’t think anyone caught it, but he had made a joke, and when he’d smiled, it just made me stop for a minute. So with that feeling, how could I be a lesbian? I had never felt that way about women, just Niya. However, the feeling Rodney had given me with just a quick smile, I felt all the time for men.

  The messed-up part about it was that Niya just wasn’t giving me enough time to
deal with my feelings. Why was it that not only Niya but the whole fucking world always wanted to put labels on people? Why couldn’t we just live and love without having to be called gay, straight, or bi? That was so ridiculous to me. She had gone through that same damn thing in front of everyone, so you would think that she would understand. Everyone needed to do things at their own pace, in their own time, but no. She wanted to know things right away. Plus, she’d called me a bitch. That was the worst part of it all. Niya was an emotional creature, but above everything, she should know that I loved her. I tried my best always to tell her and always to show her, but still, she wanted me to pick a side, and I just wasn’t ready for that.

  At first, as I sat in her room, almost afraid to move, I felt as if she could still see me, see all my insecurities. I swore I wasn’t trying to hurt her. I just needed time. I knew that in some ways I was wrong for letting her touch me, but I needed her touch. Being around her always did that to me: it made me want her in ways that I knew might not be right. Soon I decided to pour myself a cup of Cîroc. Under the bottle was one of her notebooks. I picked it up and found a blank page. I sat in her room, and everything I saw reminded me of the woman that I loved. I could smell her cologne in the air, her clothes that hung in her closet reminded me of her style, and her bed reminded me of what had just gone down. I picked up the pen that was on her night table and tried to write down my feelings.

  Close to you . . .

  Close to you, I feel safe. You feel like home; you feel like this is right where I should be. Tonight I watched you, and you were on top of me. I watched you breathe and thanked God for giving you life. Niya, my love, you are my world. You are the reason I love. Yes, Niya, I love you. Yes, Niya, I need you. And yes, one day I will have you. Just wait. Just wait for me to figure all of this out. I know what I feel, and I also know what I am fighting, but all I ask is that you wait for me. Trust in me, trust in our love, and just know that you will not wait for too long.

  Damn. You’re so fucking beautiful. Did you feel it? Did you feel when I leaned in and kissed your lips as you slept the other night? Today what you did for me, it gave me chills. Chills because I see what you are capable of, and chills because what you are capable of doing. . . was all done for me. The way you fight for me, even when I can’t fight for myself, the way that you love me, even when I fight to push you away, this doesn’t go unnoticed. See, when you sleep with me right next to you, I get wet. Wet because just the sight of you turns me on, wet because as you sleep, I want to wake you up so you can make love to me.

  But . . . but . . . but . . . there are too many buts. There are too many reasons—reasons for us not to be, reasons that we can’t be—but the reason we shouldn’t be just makes me want to be with you . . . but just not right now. One day, Niya, one day I pray I figure it all out. See, Niya, I love you. I love you way more than I need you.

  When I was done, I left the notebook open on her bed so that she could see what I had written, and then I went home. That night I stayed up, finished my book, and thought about Niya.

  Chapter 48

  Niya

  I didn’t do much that night I left. I called Marlo to see if she could come out, but she said she was out in Jersey, visiting her father. Since she wasn’t available, I hit up Rodney, and he told me to come over to his place. I just needed someone to talk to, and he was a friend. When I got to his spot, he told me that he had been working on some new beats and needed to finish one up before he could take a break. So I sat on his couch in the basement, watched him work, and thought about Jamilla.

  Touching her had been paradise. Being so close to her and feeling her as she let go of all her inhibitions was . . . it was . . . Damn, that shit was love. I had paid attention to everything about her as she opened up and let me inside. Yes, her body had felt good under me. Her wetness on my fingers had sent chills through my body, and her moaning had elevated it all, but it meant so much more than the physical. For the first time, I felt like she had let down her guard when it came to her sexuality.

  Sure she had freaked off with Smiley, but this time around, she’d been so open to it all. Honestly, as I thought about her emotionally, physically, and mentally, I started to get turned on. I sat there thinking about fucking her, really fucking her. I had yet to taste her, and the truth was, I always held back from that. It was as if by touching her only with my fingers, I wasn’t going all the way. I knew that if I tasted her, tasted her flavor, there would be no going back for me. I was already in love with her, so to me, going all the way could possibly turn her out, but . . . what if it didn’t? Would I be stuck loving a straight girl for the rest of my life and never be able to have her?

  “So, what’s wrong Niya?”

  I looked at Rodney as he came over to the couch. I twisted the top off of my bottle and smiled.

  “Who said that there was something wrong. I just can’t chill with my nigga?”

  The smirk on Rodney’s face let me know that he wasn’t buying my shit. “Niya, come on now. Spill it.”

  I sat back and just let it all out. Afterward, Rodney asked, “So, is she gay?”

  I sucked my teeth and threw my hands up. “Nigga, you tell me. Your guess is as good as mine.”

  “So wait. She does like dudes?” Rodney was asking questions I just couldn’t answer.

  “Man, I’m telling you, I really don’t know. She says she straight but lets me finger fuck her until she cums.”

  “Yo, I was watching you two during the shoot, and I thought for sure she was gay, but the way she acted after. . . Man, I just don’t know.”

  “That bullshit blows the hell out of me, man. I wish she would just pick a side and just stay there. Gay, straight, or bi.”

  “So what are you going to do, Niya? Are you going to try to hold on, or are you just done?”

  I sat there thinking. If I could have Jamilla the way I wanted her, I would hold on for dear life, but this shit, this shit was killing me.

  “I want to say that I am done, but I don’t know, man.”

  “So . . . what if she started fucking with someone else, like a guy? Would that change how you feel?”

  Rodney’s last question made me look at him sideways. “Look, man, if she’s straight, it’s gonna suck, but I will have to respect that.” I watched Rodney to see if what I was picking up was right, but I saw nothing there.

  “So . . . I just want to tell you—”

  My phone started to ring, cutting Rodney off.

  “Oh shit. It’s White Boy. I don’t even feel like dealing with this dude right now.”

  “Go ahead and pick it up. Let’s make this money, instead of sitting here thinking about Jamilla.”

  I picked up my phone, got an address, and found out how much drugs to bring. White Boy’s flunky spoke fast and got straight to the point.

  * * *

  Rodney and I got to the meeting place with White Boy, and once we greeted him, I realized that he wasn’t feeling too friendly.

  “Where the fuck you two been? Y’all ain’t up to making this money?” White Boy groused.

  I could see that my being MIA for the past few weeks wasn’t to his liking. I had made Jamilla a promise and was working on keeping it. Plus, I was feeling the music thing more than I thought I would.

  “Nah, we just been busy. You can always get shit off of another nigga, that is, if you don’t like the wait,” I replied.

  Having to make these runs was becoming a nuisance. Dealing with White Boy at times drained me. I had never really trusted him, and the info he had on me was unsettling. He laughed at my last statement as he smoked his Black & Mild.

  “Oh, so that’s how it is, huh, nigga? I can go elsewhere?”

  I didn’t answer him verbally, but the smirk on my face and the rise of my eyebrow let him know that my answer was yes.

  “See how people get?” he asked one of his men. “They get a little shine, and all of a sudden ‘You can go elsewhere. ’” White Boy pulled out his phone and st
arted playing “Team Take Yo’ Bitch.” “Yeah, you sounding real good. You about to blow up, huh?”

  I didn’t answer his question. Instead, I asked my own. “Man, can we get this over with or what?”

  “Aw, what’s the matter, Niya? You don’t want to talk about your new venture?”

  My quick temper was about to show itself. “Not when it don’t have shit to do with you.”

  I was looking right at him, and my stance told him that I wasn’t backing down. He started to laugh, and his goons joined him.

  “You are a silly little girl. What makes you think that your music career won’t have anything to do with me? Bitch, I own you.”

  It took me a minute to realize that White Boy was talking to me.

  “What in the fuck did you just say?”

  I reached for the gun on my waist while his men reached for theirs. Rodney jumped in front of me, with his hands in the air, and tried to calm the situation down.

  “Whoa, okay? Everybody should just calm the fuck down.”

  My heart was racing, as if it would beat out of my chest. I was so enraged that I was ready just to let the bullets fly. I might not make it out alive, but it would feel great to put a bullet in his ghost-white ass.

  “She better hand over that fucking gun before I get upset,” White Boy said to Rodney. At first, I wasn’t going to budge, but common sense kicked in when I looked around the room and saw that I was outnumbered. Rodney took the gun from me and stepped back. White Boy put out his cigar and walked over to me slowly.

  “After what I did for you, you will always be in debt, understood?” he said.

  I didn’t answer. I just scrunched up my face and let the anger I felt on the inside rest on my lip as it curled up.

  “Bitch, you think I’m playing with you?” he snarled. White Boy’s hand was around my neck, and as Rodney tried to come to my aid, one of White Boy’s men grabbed him. “Now listen to me and listen to me good. Outside of this drug shit, I want twenty-five percent of whatever you make on this music shit. You will pay me until the day you die. Now, I can make that sooner if you would like.”