Niya

by Fabiola Joseph

  “You are going to be great, boo, I believe in you,” Smiley said as she patted me on the back.

  “Yeah, you got this,” Rodney added.

  And as my name was announced, Jamilla leaned into my ear and said, “This is fate. This is destiny. Just step into it, and the world will be all yours.”

  I pulled her close, gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, and stepped into the light that had always been waiting for me.

  Chapter 55

  Jamilla

  The police, the sexual exchange, the ride to her showcase—they had all seemed surreal. I’d been there, but I really hadn’t been there at all. I wouldn’t take it back. I would do it all over again just for her, just to make sure she didn’t miss that night. So as I took a seat in the audience with her bag of money between my legs, I said a silent prayer. I asked God to help her forget what had happened just an hour before. Sitting there, I looked around the room and waited to see everyone’s reaction to her. Most just seemed a bit shocked and perked up with interest. Her look was different from the norm. A pretty stud who came out with so much swag that no one would think that she had just been through hell.

  Niya rocked the crowd as I smiled for her. If she didn’t have their attention when she first came out, by the end of her set, all eyes were on her and heads bobbed to her sound.

  “You know, I had a little, short joint I wanted to kick a capella, but as I stood up here and looked out there and saw her, saw how happy she is for me, and knowing how much she means to me, something different came to me. I just gave you my fly shit. Now I hope you feel this real shit,” Niya announced.

  And with that, she filled the room with everything that was authentic. She filled it with our truth. Her song went like this.

  Baby, we young and reckless, young and reckless.

  Bonnie and Bonnie, baby, we young and reckless.

  I let the things I did forever affect us,

  Pushing her away, too scared I’ll never have her,

  Tryin’a gain her trust, hoping one day it will just be us.

  But I got her, just not the way I want her.

  Heart so filled with her, feel like I’m about to burst.

  Love and friendship merge, making us come first.

  Fuck with what we got, and you’ll need a hearse.

  I was going to do this rhyme without even having to curse,

  But fuck and shit just seems like the only words that would fit

  ’Cause the shit we just went through got a nigga feeling sick.

  Something out of a flick,

  Something I hope we’ll be able to kick.

  Bad decisions lead to improper procedure.

  Seen her do things I wish I could erase,

  But no matter what she been through, none of it will ever defeat her.

  Thinking they can break her, but that just isn’t the case.

  Don’t ever worry, baby. You’ll always come in first place,

  Baby, we young and reckless, young and reckless.

  Bonnie and Bonnie, baby, we young and reckless.

  I let the things I did forever affect us.

  Just know that the shit you tryin’a prove, baby, I already know.

  Living life fast got niggas screaming YOLO.

  But no matter how many times we live through the rain, wind, or snow,

  I want you right beside me, from the apartment in Brooklyn to the motherfucking chateau.

  Baby, we young and reckless, young and reckless.

  Bonnie and Bonnie, baby, we young and reckless.

  We always love ’cause that shit so precious.

  When we not together, nights always restless.

  The way we love is always selfless.

  When she’s with me, she’s my antidepressant,

  And what we got forever effervescent.

  Yeah, we young and reckless. Yeah, we take love and don’t stress shit,

  Shit you can’t afford, ’cause our love . . . priceless

  And with time and love, this shit . . . endless

  Baby, we young and reckless, young and reckless.

  Bonnie and Bonnie, baby, we young and reckless.

  I had tried my best to bury what had happened that night, but I’d been numb until that very moment. While I listened to her words, the tears started to fall, and there was no stopping them. Everything flashed through my mind, and what had been suppressed emerged and landed on my chest. I got up, went to the back of the room, and just stood there crying. I would take none of it back, but I wished that it had never happened at all. I felt dirty, thinking of that man inside of me. The things that he had said and the way he had touched me left me feeling filthy.

  As Niya’s rap came to an end, the crowd went crazy. I watched her search the audience for me. I could tell she was about to panic, until her eyes landed on me. She lifted the mic to her lips, and it was as if she saw no one else in that room but me. While looking dead at me, she said, “I love you.”

  * * *

  I was making my way backstage to tell Niya how well she did when I was stopped by a man with a suit on.

  “I saw you, you know, standing in the back, crying. Did her lyrics touch you that deeply?” he said.

  I looked at the man and was about to keep on walking, but for some reason, I told him the truth. “Yeah, they did, and they always do. She’s special that way. She touches your heart when she’s not even trying.”

  We stood there, and from the look on his face, I could tell he got it.

  “Yeah, she’s a star,” he observed. “You can just tell. But let me ask you this. What about how she looks? She seems to roll harder than most of the niggas I know, and that’s just her stage presence.”

  I smiled, because Niya’s presence could never be missed. “Yeah, but that’s what makes a star. She’s different, she’s real, and she’s just her. No gimmick. She always gives just Niya.”

  He stood there thinking before he asked, “And her being gay . . . Do you think that she will femme it up a bit?”

  I laughed. “Hell no. She’s a ‘take me or leave me’ type of chick.”

  I left him standing there and headed backstage. Her dressing room was packed, and everyone seemed to crowd around her. It seemed like everyone wanted to know who this Niya chick was. She was just starting to make a name for herself, yet she had reporters, music executives, and new fans all around her.

  I stood in the doorway, watching her. She smiled for pictures and answered questions, but I could tell that she just wasn’t there 100 percent.

  “She did great, huh?” Rodney asked when he came over and stood beside me. I couldn’t even look at him. I felt as if he could see the night’s events on me.

  “Niya, this is the dude I was telling you about,” I heard June say to Niya.

  In walked the guy I was just talking to, and June introduced him to Niya.

  “That shit rocked,” Suit and Tie said to Niya.

  She thanked him before she let him continue. I wasn’t really listening to everything the man was saying, because he was talking so fast and seemed to have so much to say. But when I heard the words L.A. and Atlanta, my ears perked up.

  “Yeah, I have shit poppin’ in Atlanta too. One of our artists just worked with the Brazilian Barbies. Are you thinking about relocating?” he said.

  Niya looked my way as she said, “Yes.”

  “Well, take my card. Call me Monday morning, and let’s talk business.”

  Suit and Tie was gone as fast as he came in, and it seemed like the groupie train rolled in.

  “Ay, we about to head to Rainbow Dreams. Who rollin?” June asked with a full bottle of Cîroc in hand.

  My prayers were answered when Niya said she wasn’t going. I just wanted to go home and take a shower, and I wanted her to take me. I needed to talk to her before this night ended.

  “Come on, Niya. Do you know how many business cards I got for you? You are about to blow up, baby. This is your night.”

  June was on a hun
dred, and I couldn’t blame him, but he also had no idea what we had been through.

  “Nah, me and Jamilla ain’t going. Just drop me off at my car before you turn up,” Niya told him.

  “Niya, are you sure that you don’t want to come with us and celebrate? You turned this night into your night. You deserve to party,” Smiley said as she ran her hand up and down Niya’s back.

  “Nah, Smiley. It’s cool. I just really don’t feel well.”

  * * *

  We had been driving in silence, as if we were in our own worlds. I was so tired that I couldn’t find the energy to speak. We pulled up to our building, Niya got her things out of the trunk, and together, we entered the building. It was an eerie feeling, us standing there in the middle of the lobby, with our flights of stairs waiting to separate us. It was as if we should not have been there, as if our presence surprised the air, which just wasn’t meant for us. But by the grace of God, neither Niya nor I would sleep in a jail cell that night. Only by the grace of God had we cheated the cruel hand fate had dealt us.

  “Niya?” Her name was all that I could say. We had been standing there, not looking at each other, not speaking. Words had gathered in my throat, but they were wedged between my heart and my teeth.

  “Jamilla, baby, we don’t have to talk about it. We never have to talk about it.”

  She wouldn’t look at me. I just needed her to look at me.

  “Niya, look, we, I . . . you know that—”

  “No need to talk, Jamilla boo. I already know what it is. I have always known.”

  Still, her eyes graced the floor.

  “But we need to talk. We need to make sure that things are okay.”

  “They are. Just go home, take a shower, and try to sleep. We don’t have to talk about it, Jamilla. We don’t ever have to talk about it. Just go.”

  “But, Niya—”

  “Just go, okay? Please, just go. I know everything that you want to tell me. I just want you to know that I’m sorry and that I love you, but right now . . . just go.”

  She was trembling, and her face was turning red. I was afraid that she was breaking, that she was breaking right before my eyes. I got close to her and just hugged her. I hugged her until she said it again.

  “Jamilla, just go.”

  Chapter 56

  Niya

  I just couldn’t be that close to her, knowing what I had caused. I watched her walk away only because I was dying to look at her, but I just couldn’t look into her eyes. What she did for me that night would haunt me for the rest of my life, and in that moment, I was just trying to deal. When I got inside my apartment, to my surprise, my granny was still up. I stood with my back against the door, but I could see her on the couch.

  “Niya, mi amor, I so happy you come home so soon. I stay . . . I stay up until my Niya come and tell me everything. Come to de living room.”

  I couldn’t move. Facing my grandmother with so much on my heart was another conquest that I just wasn’t ready for.

  “Niya, honey, you hear me?”

  I couldn’t even answer. Flashes of that cop and Jamilla filled my brain. I just couldn’t move. I could hear her getting up, and I swear to God I tried to will my feet to move. I just wanted to run into my bedroom, but I just couldn’t move.

  “Niya, qué pasa?”

  My granny stood in front of me, and I wanted to answer her, but I couldn’t. I started to bang the back of my head against the door, and I didn’t know why.

  “Niya, what is wrong? Cuál es el problema?” My granny pulled me away from the door and into her arms. There, for the first time that night, I felt safe.

  “Granny, it was all my fault. It was all my fault.”

  “Mi amor, tell me. Tell me what happen. Tienes que decirme qué pasó para yo poder ayudarte.”

  We were now on the floor, with me in my grandmother’s arms. She rocked me back and forth as I screamed and cried.

  “Tell me, Niya. You have to tell your granny what happen.”

  “That spell that you did before I left? You were right, Granny. It saved me, Granny, but . . . but it used Jamilla to save me. It killed her and saved me, Granny. Oh my God. What did I do, Granny? I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “Niya, you have to say what you problem. I will help, but you tell me first.”

  At that point, there was no holding back. I had had enough. All my life I had fought to be strong, all my life I had had to be strong, and I was tired. I lay in her arms and told her everything. I didn’t just start with what had happened that night. I told her about me dealing drugs, about what really went down with Rodney, and about the happenings with White Boy. I even tried my best to get her to understand my love for Jamilla. The love I felt for her before that night and the love I felt after what she did for me seemed like two different things now.

  When I told her about Jamilla sleeping with the cop, she said to me that Jamilla was my living angel. She said that the liquid she got from the voodoo man did just what he said it would. It protected me from deviated dreams, and Jamilla in a sense stopped the bullet. She said that no matter what I did or said that night, Jamilla would never have gotten out of my car when I stood screaming at her in front of my building. She said it was all fate, from our first real meeting on that stoop to her being my angel that night.

  “So now, in the morning, we go see tu padre. He know how to fix that puta White Boy.”

  I had fought everything when it came to my father, as if I was holding a grudge against him. He had never really been there, giving me only pieces of himself from time to time. But that night, when my granny said that she would call on my dad for help, I knew that adding him to the mix was my only way out. I knew that this was going to be his chance to save me, and after years of fighting every battle by myself, I welcomed him with open arms. I was tired and in need of rest.

  Chapter 57

  Jamilla

  I stood in the shower, trying to wash away the dirtiness I felt scorching my skin. Niya, without trying to, had made me feel as if she couldn’t stand being close to me, as if I disgusted her. With thoughts of her repulsion for me burning our night’s events into my brain, I tried to scrub my skin off. Part of me was happy that I was standing in my tub, because my night could have turned out differently, but it also bothered me that it had been so easy for me to give up my body. It made me question my self-worth. Did I really have so little consideration for my body that I was willing to give it up just to save us? Whatever the case might have been, it just left me feeling ill.

  Once out of the shower, I turned on my computer and let it boot up. I looked at my phone the whole time I dried off and got dressed. I wanted her to call or text, and I wanted to do the same, but . . . what would I say? I even picked up the phone and held it in my hand, but still, I drew a blank. So instead, I went to my computer and checked my e-mail. I was so thankful to find my teacher’s e-mail waiting for me. She was done with the edits on Rainbow Hearts. I looked at my calendar. I had only about a week to get the cover in and the formatting done. I e-mailed both parties, paid them, and had their word that they would put a rush on both things. I went to bed with Sade playing in the background and hoped to dream of happier times with Niya.

  * * *

  I stayed in bed most of the next day. On Sundays my house was always filled with delicious aromas, as my mother cooked a big Haitian feast. I looked over at the clock that was beside my bed, and it read three in the afternoon. I lay there for a little longer and decided to jump in the shower and at least comb my hair. Before going in, I looked at my phone and saw I still had no call or text from Niya. I broke down and reached out to her, hoping that she was okay.

  Hey, big head. I just wanted you to know that I was thinking about you. I love you, Niya.

  I jumped in the shower and let the hot water soothe me. After getting out, I still didn’t have a text back from Niya. My stomach was growling, so I headed to the kitchen to see what my mother had cooked.

  “Jamil
la, go to the store and get some Malta.”

  I looked at my mother sideways, because my stepdad was the only one who drank that shit. Why would she send me to the store for the man she thought I was trying to steal from her?

  “Send his daughter,” I answered without a second thought.

  “You know we don’t like her going out by herself after the girls fought her. Ale pou mwen.”

  I rolled my eyes and took the money from her. I turned the music on my phone on high, put in my earbuds, and headed out. It was a little cold out, but I had forgotten my jacket. I hurried to the store and got what my mother wanted. I was halfway home when I again checked my phone for Niya’s message, but I still had nothing from her. When I felt someone grab me from behind, I screamed and dropped the bag in my hand.

  “What are you fucking doing? You scared the hell out of me.” I was clutching my chest and breathing heavily. Rodney was smiling, as if he thought it was funny.

  “My bad, baby. I was just happy to see you. Plus, I called you, but you didn’t turn around.”

  “You made me break my stepdad’s Malta. What is wrong with you?” I asked, a little annoyed.

  “My bad, Jamilla. I will buy you some more. Don’t be mad. You looked so cute while screaming.”

  He made me crack a smile.

  “Come on, Jamilla. Let’s go back to the store. Have you heard from Niya? June and I just left her apartment, but no one answered the door.”

  “No, I texted her, but she didn’t hit me back. Why are you looking for her?”

  “People have been getting at June all day about this girl Niya. She’s blowing up, and everyone wants to know who she is.”

  As we walked to the store, I thought about life and how messed up it could all be. Whenever I looked at celebrities, I always saw the glitz and the glamour. I would dream about being them. To have people scream your name, show you love no matter where you went, and to have people look up to you . . . I had always thought that life was easy for them. It wasn’t until that moment that it hit me that they were human too. Sure, we saw them shine, but now I wondered what was behind the bright lights and smiles. Were they dealing with things like family, depression, anger, hurt, and pain? Niya just had what should have been the best night of her life. Her dreams were unfolding and coming true right before her eyes, yet misery had preceded her happiness.