Vérité

by Rachel Blaufeld

  What the hell did she know? Did she read that in one of her books?

  A whistle sounded, bringing my attention back to the game. It was a time out, and the Hafton coach was subbing some players. Tiberius ripped off his warm-up jersey and got ready to go in, but not without taking a long look at the balcony and winking at me.

  Well, I guess I’ve been spotted.

  Ginny nudged my elbow. “He’s super cute.”

  “Shh, here he goes,” I said, quieting her.

  Tiberius was bringing the ball up with Lamar filling the lane, and then he tossed it up to Jamel. Pow, he slammed it into the basket. I stood up, cheering and clapping.

  “That’s called an alley-oop, if you didn’t know, girl,” someone said from behind me.

  I turned to find Chey and Stacy directly behind me. Their shiny black braids were pulled back, and each wore a Hafton headband and a big grin on their faces. They looked like they belonged here in warm-up pants and Nike T-shirts. I glanced down at my ivory wide-necked T-shirt and skinny jeans, and felt inadequate.

  Smiling at them, I said, “Well, thanks. I didn’t know, but it was awesome!”

  I sat back in my seat and continued to watch the game. Tiberius looked so handsome in his uniform; the jersey did his massive arms justice, and his smile radiated as he played.

  “You gotta know the game if you’re gonna drool all over a baller,” Stacy pointed out, disrupting my drooling. She leaned forward in her seat, her lighter skin, well-chiseled body, and flat chest the complete opposite of Chey. She was the picture of confidence, practically oozing athleticism and endurance from her very pores.

  I swallowed back any inadequacies and turned slightly in my seat, one eye on the game and one on my roommates. “Are you being nice or mean? I don’t quite know what you want from me.”

  “Nice,” Chey said.

  “Yeah,” Stacy chimed in. “We figure, if we want to get in good with the other boys, we better play nice with Ty’s toy.”

  I turned back around, ignoring them. Why was everyone referring to me as a toy?

  Ginny glared back at them, coming to my defense. “She’s not a toy, ladies.”

  “Okay, okay, girls,” Stacy said with an exaggerated eye roll. “Don’t get your butt-floss panties in a twist. Ty’s lady . . . is that better?”

  “Oh shit! Look at that,” Chey blurted.

  Tiberius had run all the way down the court, dribbling the ball, and pulled up for a dunk.

  “Holy shit,” I whispered under my breath.

  “Right on, girl. That boy can play, and he looks damn fine too,” Chey said as she high-fived me. “But you gotta do something about those shoes. Chucks are for white chicks.”

  “Isn’t that what I am?” I whispered to Ginny.

  “Stop, just go with it,” she said, jabbing me in the side.

  The players rotated in and out of the game, and Hafton pulled off a big victory. When the game was over and the two teams shook hands and had headed for the locker room, Chey spoke up again. “You gonna go meet your man outside the locker room? ’Cause we’re coming with.”

  “Uh, I don’t know. I’m not sure if I should.”

  “Girl, your boy just had a damn fine game and a dunk,” Chey said with a frown. “You’re going to see him after the game.”

  “Are you sure we can?”

  Stacy just grabbed my arm and said, “Come on, chickie.”

  “I’m heading back over to the dorms,” Ginny said as she stood up. “I’m gonna go hang with Bryce.”

  “You sure?” I asked. I was more worried for my own safety than hers.

  “Be nice, girls,” she said to Chey and Stacy, then she turned to me. “Have fun, babe.”

  Next thing I knew I was standing outside the boys’ locker room. The hallway was closed to the media during pre-season, so it was quiet enough that we could hear almost every word of the chanting and swearing coming from inside through the heavy wooden door.

  “Yeah, boy, we showed their skinny asses the door.”

  “We gonna party tonight, brother.”

  “Did you see Rexie girl in the stands? Someone is gonna get laid tonight. Oh yeah, boy.”

  “You ready for that, Tiberius? You know the ladies love a dunk.”

  “Shit, that dunk was sweeeet. Boo-yah.”

  My cheeks burned. God, I’d never blushed so easily, but the dunk did make me kind of hot.

  Stacy was obviously not affected by the locker-room talk. “See, girl, I told ya . . . you gotta get down here to see your man.” She stood there, her hip cocked to the side, staring down at me from a few inches above.

  Feeling out of my league, I walked over to the opposite wall and slid down it to sit on the floor. After stretching my legs out with my white-girl shoes in front of me, I leaned my head back against the brick and closed my eyes.

  What am I doing?

  Just then a few players started filing out of the locker room. I heard Jamel before I saw him; I couldn’t look up.

  “Bro, time for you to show her what fucking a brother is all about.”

  “Leave it, Mel,” Tiberius said sharply. “Enough.” He stuttered on the last word, presumably because it was when he saw me.

  “Aw, fuck. Sorry, man,” Jamel said to Tiberius, but he couldn’t say anything more because Chey decided to interject.

  “You want to show me what fucking a real brother is like?”

  I rolled my eyes, even though my face was still planted in my hands. A quick peek revealed Chey gyrating her pelvis.

  “Come on, Chey, let’s go. Leave the poor boy be,” I heard Stacy stutter, her usual self-assured conviction nowhere in sight, and I wondered what that was all about.

  Then I heard someone sliding down the wall next to me, and I peered through my hands to see Tiberius’s legs stretched out next to mine.

  “Tingly, look at me.”

  I shook my head.

  “Thanks for coming,” he said, and placed his hand on my leg.

  I spread apart two of my fingers and caught a view of his fingers splayed on my jeans. He was still hot to the touch, or maybe that was just what happened when he touched me.

  “It was a good game.” I spoke through my hands, my words muffled.

  “Can you look at me?” he asked, moving his hand up and down my thigh.

  When I looked up, my eyes were all wet, and I mentally scolded them.

  “That wasn’t me, Rex. You know that. That’s the guys being dicks.” He turned to face me, shifting his weight onto his side, running his other hand down my arm.

  I nodded. “I know it’s not you, but I just feel like they’re all laughing because they know we haven’t done anything, and it’s like they have to force you to fuck me.”

  Tiberius flinched as if he’d been punched, then he leaned in real close. “First off, there’s not gonna be any fucking when I’m finally with you. Second, I told you I’m taking it slow, savoring you. Told you that way back in the elevator. This means something, Tingly. Stop thinking about yourself like a quick fuck. It makes me sick to my stomach.”

  No matter how much I willed it not to happen, a tear dropped into my lap. Tiberius brought his hand to my face and swiped away a few more droplets with his thumb.

  “I’m not sure you want me,” I admitted, not meeting his eyes. “Maybe I’m just some phase.”

  By this time, the hall had mostly emptied, and Tiberius grabbed my hand and pulled it to his chest. “Feel that? My heart is beating a mile a minute for you. With each beat, I want you more.” Then he moved my hand to his crotch. “Feel that? That’s for you.” His dick was as hard as a rock, the lightweight fabric of his sweats doing little to contain it.

  Then he dropped my hand. “Fuck, Tingly! You’re making me act like one of them. That’s not me. I don’t want to have to shove my cock in your hand so you know I want you. My actions should speak for themselves. And since the day I met you, you been throwing all your little traps and bullshit in my face, all your little
conquests. I’m not gonna be another one, or make you feel like you need a conquest to be worthy.” He blew out a long breath. “That’s the fucking truth. I want you. All of you.”

  “Vérité . . . that’s the first time anyone has ever given me that,” I half mumbled, half whispered to myself.

  “What?”

  “The truth. You’re the first person to give me the truth.” I looked into his eyes, sailing away in the blue, riding the waves of his emotion as I tried desperately to hold on to my life jacket—or my resolve.

  “Then cherish it, and don’t throw it back in my face.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “Now, did you come here to fight? Or to celebrate my first game? I got in more than I expected, but I guess it was only a pre-season game.” He pulled himself to his feet, then reached out a hand to help me up.

  “It was awesome––you getting in––and super cool to see, but I don’t know a lot. I have to figure out all the rules,” I said, a smile taking over my face. “And these shoes. Apparently, they’re all wrong.”

  This set Tiberius off in a ripple of loud laughs. His whole body was rocking as a happy tear or two escaped his beautiful eyes. “Yeah, we’re gonna have to do something about your shoes.”

  Tiberius and I went out for something to eat, opting for one of the campus restaurants where we could pay with our dining cards. It was a café-type place with a salad bar and a menu full of greasy food. Reggae music was being piped in through the speakers as we grabbed a table by the window. Students whirred by the glass, texting and listening to music on their iPods, on their way to class . . . or the bars. The place smelled like fries, and I couldn’t help but be reminded of eating fried food at the diner, and what a disaster that was.

  Tiberius stuffed himself while I ate salad and chicken. Taking a break, we didn’t tackle any more discussion of us. Or if there was an us.

  “When I was back home, I realized how much I missed the food,” he said while chowing on his burger and fries. “The type of shit I hadn’t eaten in a long time. Cheap Chinese takeout and New York bagels. And fucking barbeque. Can’t get that here.”

  “Well, you can’t get all this heavy cream and whole-milk crap they serve here in LA. Out there everything is skinny, sugar-free, no calories, no-taste cardboard.” I sipped on my diet soda. I’d pay for it tomorrow; the bubbles would come gurgling up my throat as my feet pounded the pavement, but I loved soda. It was an indulgence I didn’t allow myself often.

  “You’re making friends with your roommates, I see.” Tiberius raised an eyebrow and lifted his lips into a smirk.

  I shrugged. “They’re kinda wild, those girls. And hot for all you guy players. Pretty sure they’ve decided to keep their enemies closer than really be my friend,” I confessed, finding it easy to share my true feelings with Tiberius.

  “Well, I like runner chicks, so no worries there.” He grinned again, this time over his big glass of water.

  “Oh yeah? I’m also pretty sure Jamel would have your hide for saying that. He seems to have different ideas about who you should like.” I stared at my finger as I traced circles around the rim of my glass.

  “Good thing I don’t give a shit ’bout what Mel thinks.” Tiberius lifted my chin with his index finger, and our eyes met. “We’ve been through this. He’s testing you.”

  “I know. Now my roommates are testing me too. I don’t know basketball, and I don’t wear the right shoes. Will anyone ever think I’m good enough for you?” I lowered my gaze again.

  “What about your parents? Will they think I’m good enough for you? ’Cause if we’re really gonna get down to it, let’s get the black-white thing out there.” His expression hardened, his eyes full of fury and pride.

  I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

  “You see, I’m right. Jamel isn’t really our worry; your parents are. I doubt they’re gonna be down with a boy from the hood, Tingly. Let alone a black one.”

  I rubbed up and down my arms, feeling chilled straight to the bone, despite the fact that the café was warm with barely any air flowing from the ducts. This was more fear than anything else, because Tiberius was right. He’d hit home without even knowing.

  My parents barely accepted who I was. Their last hope in life was I would find some Republican hotshot here in Ohio and come back to the uppity fold they raised me in. Well, I couldn’t do that, whether I’d met Tiberius or not.

  “Listen, you’re probably right, but my parents aren’t really part of my life. I know that probably sounds like shit to you, who just lost your mother, but it’s the truth. I never fit their mold, so what I do isn’t their business. Maybe I don’t fit yours either because of that.”

  “Don’t make a statement like that without really thinking about what you mean. Honestly, T, when I first saw you, I wanted to just have a friend in study hall. This isn’t what I imagined,” he confessed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table as he stared me down. “I couldn’t imagine anything else now, and no one’s gonna get in my way. Definitely not Jamel, the girls’ team, or your own crazy thinking. You hear me?”

  “Uh-huh,” was all I could manage to get out. I wasn’t strong enough to address this with him, so I left it at that.

  Fear coiled in my belly. I didn’t start this year off looking for a relationship; I’d just mended my broken heart. Could it withstand more hurt? Because no matter what Ty said, Jamel wasn’t in favor of us and neither were the girls I lived with. Not to mention that Tiberius was a young, handsome guy—what the fuck did he want with me? I was damaged goods.

  “Don’t think too hard, T. We’ll make it work. I’m sorry I said that about your parents. It was defensive and wrong, but I don’t want it to ruin tonight. You coming to my game and shit, that was the fucking best.”

  “Okay.” Another one-word answer from me. My mind was racing, crazy thoughts lapping my brain. “You sure? You know I don’t want to come between you and the team.”

  “Yeah, let’s roll.” He stood and reached for my hand. “So, you liked the game?” he asked as we left the restaurant.

  “Oh, definitely. You guys looked good out there, especially you.” And it was true—I felt some weird pride in my heart for Tiberius. “What’s that alley-oop thing?” I asked, which definitely broke the tension because he broke out into more fits of laughter. He was so tall that when he bent over with a belly laugh, I swore the ground shook.

  “That’s when one of the guys passes a quick high ball, and the dude who catches it high up in the air puts it up for a dunk,” he answered, still smiling.

  “What? What’s so funny?” We were back across College Avenue now, heading back toward campus, and I stopped and turned to him.

  “It’s just cute, that’s all. I’m glad you saw me do that. It’s one of my moves, the kind of pass I was known for at prep.” He threw his arm around me and started us walking again.

  “Well, it’s cool. Must take a lot of strength to get up there . . . for any of you” I said, somewhat teasing.

  I poked him in the side, and he laughed once more. He was the sweetest, most loving guy I’d ever met, which was so strange since he was wrapped in this daunting body of strength and steel.

  “What you doing now?” he asked, interrupting my thoughts.

  “I don’t know. I guess some studying. You?”

  “Yep. Studying. Wanna grab your shit and study at my place?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I do.” I didn’t even need to think about it. I just did.

  Trey was out. “He’s got a lady friend over in Cleveland. Goes to see her a lot,” Ty explained. “She came to the game, and then he took her back. He’ll be back in the morning.”

  “Oh, I didn’t see her. Is she nice?” I asked as I plopped down on one of the stools at the bar, the same one where Tiberius told me about his mother. I hoisted my backpack up to the counter and pulled out my laptop.

  “She is. Her name’s Cherise, but everyone calls her Cherry. Maybe you’ll come to another gam
e and meet her. She’s pretty cool. Keeps Trey in line––mostly.”

  I couldn’t help but notice whenever Tiberius got emotional over something—like my parents or Cherry—he slipped into Jersey speech. He wasn’t the well-educated prep-school boy when he cared about someone or something.

  “I’d like that. To come to another game.”

  He sat down next to me on another stool and brought his hand to my cheek, drawing me closer. “Next time you come to one of my games, tell me first so I know my girl’s there.” It was an order not to be messed with, not up for discussion.

  Not that I had time to answer because he leaned in and kissed me. His lips captured mine, gentle at first, seeking my permission to take what he wanted. He slipped his hand under my hair and pulled me closer by the nape of my neck. My skin warmed as hot streaks of need radiated where his hand burned into my skin, and my heart galloped in my chest. There was barely enough space in my rib cage for its increased pounding.

  Tiberius moaned and I parted my lips, giving him access. His tongue explored my mouth, stroking mine. I’d been gripping the side of the stool, trying to find purchase, but I let go and wrapped my hands around his neck. I drew him closer, deepening our need for each other.

  He let out another long moan before breaking the kiss, still keeping a firm grip on my neck. Steadying me, he touched his forehead to mine. “You feel that? It means something.”

  I nodded. I felt it, but I didn’t want to stop. My mouth sought his, looking for more.

  “Shh,” he said, quieting my actions more than my nonexistent words. “That means something. Everything else we do means something. I’m not gonna treat you like the teacher, like you don’t mean shit-all to me, Rex.”

  “Oh.”

  I broke free from his grasp and saw him—really saw him for the first time. I’d had these little glimpses of Tiberius and what made him tick, but right now in this moment, it all clicked. I knew he was a gentle giant, sweet like a teddy bear when he wanted to be, but it went further.

  Tiberius was the most dedicated, devoted person I knew, and I wasn’t sure I deserved that. But damn if anyone was going to stop me from trying.