Forty-two Minutes

by Janay Harden

  It blasted through the house and this time; Beyoncé and DJ Khaled blared from the speakers. Jaxon pulled me and Mila to our feet and he gave us more red cups filled with something else that smelled like it could grow hair on my chest. I took a swig of this cup and it tasted worse than the one before. We were mixing liquor. even I knew that was a no-no. The room swayed, and I stumbled to stay on my feet.

  “Oh shit, looks like Miss Perfect, isn’t,” Jaxon grinned.

  Mila was giving her best white girl dance, swinging her head and hair to the beat and shaking her shoulders. I did the same, but with a little more flavor. Will still sat on the couch and watched us dance. His legs were perched open, and he leaned back on the slumped couch. His eyes were on me, and Mila’s eyes were on him. He didn’t break his gaze, and Mila didn’t take her eyes off of him. I knew he was watching, and I didn’t care—I kind of wanted him to. His cologne still tickled my nostrils and every time I swayed, I smelled him. I danced harder and became more pronounced with my movements. Swaying my hips and moving to the beat, my long curly braids swung at my waist.

  Will sat up straighter on the couch, and I knew I had his attention. The way he gazed at me; it was like he saw me—really saw me. He had to have the same thoughts I did—he just had to. I could see it in his eyes.

  My stomach fluttered, and this time, it wasn’t from the red cup. Why did I care that he saw me? Our friendship had changed, just like he screamed it at me one summer night in Chicago over the phone. No, he isn’t looking at me that way; I shushed my nerves.

  But he is. But he is.

  Will and I locked eyes as I swayed to the beat as he full-on stared at me, and his mouth was slightly open. I could see his tongue rolling in his mouth.

  “Asshole!” Mila screamed. She tossed her drink in Will’s face, and just like that our spell was broken.

  His eyes bugged out and the football team chanted, “Yo fight, fight, fight!”

  “What the fuck, Mila?” He jumped up and his cream-colored sweater was covered in red juice.

  “You’re always looking at her!” Mila exclaimed. “You always loved her.”

  The three of us said nothing; the elephant in the room was no more—Mila slayed it.

  I inhaled sharply. “Mila, what are you talking about?”

  “Just tell her, Will—tell her.”

  The football team stood behind us, whooping and hollering. Mila turned to me, “You’ve known all this time. He loves you; he’s in love with you. He loves you,” she repeated, this time softer. Mila was hurt, I could see it in her face. But her anger wasn’t towards me, it was towards Will and a red sweater once cream-colored.

  Will did love me, and we both knew it. He was quiet. His shoulders were slumped, and he looked like he was holding his breath. The anger I felt towards Jaxon, towards a lot of things in my life, built up. The feelings I tried to hide were bubbling over and seeping through my pores. They were almost on full display, ready to be unleashed at any moment. Even though Mila’s words were the truth, they incensed me.

  Will and I are friends. And regardless of what we both felt—that’s all we would ever be. I had too many other things to worry about. He was my friend—my best friend. Anything more was too confusing right now. The thoughts ran through my mind, but I also knew they weren’t entirely true. Something in me belonged to him. But I wouldn’t give it up without a damn good fight. Besides, he thought I was crazy anyway. Mila didn’t have to throw a drink on him, but in sidekick fashion, I’m glad she came and interrupted the moment.

  “I’m leaving,” Will snapped.

  “Where are you going?” Mila questioned.

  “Home! Do you see me?” he glared at his now red sweater.

  “Go then, Will. Let’s still not talk about it,” she jabbered.

  Will glanced in my direction and opened his mouth, starting to speak. He shook his head, scowled once more at Mila, and walked out.

  “Ohhhh, another one bites the dust,” the football team chanted.

  “What is going on over here, ladies?” Jaxon returned with more cups. “You ladies are running all of my guys away. This is turning into a real chick fest. Oh well, more honeys for me,” he giggled walking away.

  “What’s your problem?” I said to Mila. “Why have you been acting like this? The shit with JT—and now this. What are you thinking?” I demanded.

  “Shut up, Indy,” Mila shook her head. “You’re too busy trying to get rich or die trying that you don’t even realize Will has been in love with you for like, forever. Did he ever tell you that’s why we broke up? Because he’s in love with you. Always has been.”

  My eyes widened at Mila. “No,” I shook my head. “That’s not true.”

  Mila snorted. “Indy, have you convinced yourself it’s not true? He could never be with me because his first and only love has always been you.”

  Somewhere in me knew that was true. Mila was kicking nothing but facts tonight. I didn’t have time for this, not for Will and these feelings. I wasn’t trying to get rich or die trying. I just wanted what others had. Was that so much to ask?

  “Ladies, no fighting,” Jaxon interjected. “Will set another game of Beer Pong before he left.” He handed us more red cups and this time I drank the whole thing, finishing in two gulps.

  “That a girl,” Jaxon grinned. He took one of my braids in his hands and palmed it. “These are curly like macaroni and cheese.”

  My hair was funny to him. I pushed him away and the football team roared once again.

  The rest blurred and I’m not sure what happened. Minutes turned into hours. I came to, and drool seeped out the sides of my mouth. Jaxon stood in front of me in the bedroom with his phone. The flash made me shield my eyes. Where is everyone? I peered around.

  “They’re not here. It’s just us,” Jaxon said.

  We played Beer Pong like Jaxon had begged, and the next thing I knew, everyone was kissing. Mila and I stayed late into the night when, one by one, someone would tire and leave or retreat to a room in the house.

  Now, Joya lay across my lap motionless, and I wondered when she had returned to the party. The click of the camera made me jump, and Jaxon moved in circles, snapping pictures of me and Joya.

  I struggled to stand and stumbled to the bathroom as the music pounded my ears. It was still blaring from the speakers and the pain cut through my temples. I heard a loud groan, and when I peeked out of the bathroom, Mila came shuffling into the room. Jaxon’s hand was placed in the arch of Mila’s back and her hair was disheveled, and she was missing a shoe. Her eyes were bloodshot red.

  “Whoa, whoa,” he slyly smiled while I leaned into the bathroom doorway to steady myself. The room was spinning, and I was concentrating on not vomiting all over this expensive looking tile. I slid down to the floor, gravity getting the best of me.

  Malachi, I thought. Shit. He was gone. Will—Will was surely here. Shit, he was gone too. His sweater. The bathroom had wet washcloths on the floor, and I slipped on one and fell on my back. I hit my head on the floor tile under me and I saw stars. The pain ripped through the back of my head and I howled in pain and my eyes were blurry. Feeling around for my phone on the floor that had slipped out of my pocket, I cringed as my hands landed in the cold wetness that came attached with a smell I was familiar with, urine.

  My hands landed on my cell phone, and Jaxon kicked it away and chuckled. He took my phone and pulled his out. The flash of his camera burned my eyes and I struggled to see.

  “A day in the life of Indigo Lewis,” he joked.

  I gritted my teeth. My stomach turned so bad, and I didn’t fight him for my phone. My curls that I had spent hours rolling, were wet.

  “Uh-uh,” I struggled to find the words before I blacked out again.

  CHAPTER 16

  “Pump the gas, Ma!” I screamed.

  Mom floored it, and my head
slammed against the back of the seat. The old man came into our sights; the closer we got, the more he was real. He had a cane, and he hobbled across the road, unaware he was target practice that day. Mom and I glanced at each other and grinned. She wanted to see how high he could bounce, and so did I. He was older and walked too slow for his own good; they could spare just one. We were yards from him when he arched his back and turned towards us. He dressed like an old man and walked like an old man, but his face. His face was Jaxon’s.

  My body jolted in my bed and I sat straight up. My throat was dry. I found a half empty water bottle on my dresser and I cracked it open and sucked it down, but it did nothing for my thirst.

  I vaguely remember Joya taking me home last night, but I distinctly remember vomiting in her car. She was returning later to pick me up for her appointment and it was my stomach that was in knots. My eyes burned and I rubbed them until I saw stars. The sun peeked through my small window, but it was still too bright. I laid back down and covered myself in the blanket. Balling myself into the fetal position, I closed my eyes.

  My phone buzzed, and a text from Joya came through. She was picking me up in one hour. I thought I had more time to rest, but she was on her way. Last night I had three intentions: have a ball with my friends at the party, talk to Will, and clear things up with Malachi. I accomplished one, but maybe it was the one I shouldn’t have. Will’s words were still in my mind, “You know, like your mom.” Tears flowed from my eyes under the blanket where I was getting hot, so I peeked my head out and let some cool air hit my face. Fat tears rolled down my cheeks, and I returned my head back under the blanket where I wiped them away.

  An hour later, Joya and I rode in her new Audi in silence. I still smelled the stench from vomiting last night and Joya had the windows down, letting in cool air and the foul smell—out. The car was gorgeous and it glided down the highway whizzing past everyone. I wore large blacked out sunglasses, and I had my hoodie up. Joya was also wearing sunglasses and she had a large iced coffee in her cup holder. It was the biggest size and it had whipped cream at the top. I eyed it, pissed that I didn’t tell her to grab me one too.

  “Do you want some?” Joya pointed to the coffee.

  My mouth watered looking at it. “I thought you’d never ask,” I replied as I grabbed the coffee and took a long sip. The cold liquid quenched my thirst and felt so good in my mouth. I laid my head against the headrest and closed my eyes, trying to focus on not vomiting up the savory drink that was so needed right now.

  “Are you okay? I wasn’t expecting to see you last night at the party.” I finally asked. I sucked down Joya’s coffee with fervor.

  Joya sighed and pulled down the blinker button hard.

  “A few of the football players invited me, and I didn’t want to stay in my house. My parents were having one of their ‘what are you doing with your life’ conversations and I just didn’t feel like being there anymore.”

  “I saw Mr. Chestnut pick you up last night. Did he bring you back too?”

  Joya was silent. Her eyes looked distant as she gripped the steering wheel tight. “He knows I’m going today. He said he would have come with me if… you know. He could. I guess I’m okay though. I shouldn’t have gone to the party; he came to tell me that. He’s mad that I went.”

  “Why? Did you… hook up with anyone?” I eased into the question cautiously, trying to see what she knew. My memories were still fuzzy from the night before. I really wasn’t a big drinker, and it didn’t take much for me to start feeling it. I knew the ropes—Mom didn’t raise no fool. Never accept a drink from someone you don’t know. Don’t go anywhere alone with someone you just met. Always be mindful of your surroundings and your crowd. Mom ran down the rules to being a woman when I was young, but yet last night I still went against everything she had taught.

  Visions of my mom followed me everywhere. Her voice followed me everywhere. I knew it was her—it was her words, her tone. Sometimes she just sat there and commented about my day. Other days she was angry when someone did me wrong. She sang and danced. But lately, she told me about different ways to end them. I did a good job of pushing the thoughts out of my mind, but now that they forced me to share air with Jaxon Green, Mom pitched a tent and set up camp in my head. Mom was always there, cursing someone for me, threatening someone for me. I wondered if she came to Sidney like this. No, I fussed. Sidney would tell me if that were the case.

  “No, I didn’t. I was drinking, but you were the one tossing them back!” Joya gave a half smile.

  I held my breath before I asked her my next question. “… Did I… hook up… ”

  “You don’t remember?” She shifted her eyes from me to the road and back again.

  I shook my head.

  “After Will and Malachi left, the party did get pretty wild with Jaxon. He and your girl, Mila, disappeared for a few hours and I’m not sure what they did, but you were in your own world. We were in the bathroom at one point, before I took you home. You kept saying, ‘Leave me alone, Mom. I don’t want to do that to them.’ You were so upset I thought you were talking on the phone with someone, but nope, you were talking to yourself,” she giggled.

  Saliva collected in my mouth and I had to concentrate to keep down the bile that was forming in my stomach and throat. She heard me talking to Mom, to the voices. Shame washed over me, and I pulled the drawstrings on my hoodie tighter onto my face.

  Joya and I rode the rest of the way in silence until we made our way to a small building with no names or windows. My eyes bugged out of my head when I saw a group of older white women standing outside of the building with signs that read ‘Babies are a gift from God,’ and ‘Say no to abortions.’

  One of the women held a bullhorn, and she screamed, “You don’t have to do this, choose another option.”

  Joya stared out of the window at the women as she parked, and soon she began breathing harder and wringing her hands. “Why are they out here? Why would they do this?”

  I didn’t have answers as they continued their protest, and the woman on the bullhorn screeched, “You have options, we can help.” By now the line was getting longer, and once Joya and I hurried to the end, we were still behind at least ten girls. I stared at the girl in front of us. She looked about our age, and she gawked at the women yelling up front. When she moved, I saw her round belly even from the back. How far along was she? I studied the other girls around us, and while they looked like different versions of terrified and annoyed, they didn’t look pregnant yet.

  This girl’s petite frame looked alien-like against her round belly. An older woman who shared the same face, nose, and aghast look, clutched the strap of her purse and stood next to the girl, staring at the women up front still shouting. I peeked at Joya and she stared at the woman next to the young girl; maternal instinct passed between them. Joya’s gaze was piercing and for a second, I thought she might vomit. She pulled her sunglasses off of her forehead and snapped them over her eyes when she saw me looking.

  The security guard at the front checked IDs admitting people into the facility and every so often he looked over his shoulders at the women behind him. By now, one of the women was on her knees with her arms outstretched, praying. She said, “Dear Lord, please let these girls know we love them. They are not alone, and they don’t have to do this. All lives matter.”

  “Excuse me? What the fuck you say?” A heavyset Black girl with her bonnet on in the front of the line yelled.

  “Good morning, I hope you are doing well, beautiful child. You don’t have to do this, you have options. All lives matter, and I would love to talk with you more to explain why. You were meant for more than this,” the woman held a rosary between her hands. The line moved slowly and everyone paced and talked to each other with sharp voices.

  “You don’t know me! Don’t tell me what options I have, and don’t tell me all lives matter, Karen!”

 
Other girls in the line grumbled at the women, and their ringleader got on her bullhorn again. “You have options. Don’t be mad at us—Jesus saves!”

  “She don’t know shit about me!” The girl before Joya and me in the line screamed. Two more security guards rushed outside with their hands on their hips clutching at nothing. When they arrived, the girls in line settled down but the women continued with their protest.

  Joya kept her head low, but I observed everything around me with wide and curious eyes. I was glad I decided to come with her, hangover and all. No girl should have to experience this. Joya and I entered the building, and for the next three hours we sat shoulder to shoulder with dozens of other girls. The office played a painful song and dance of calling up Joya, verifying insurance, sitting back down, calling her back up again to check a million little things. Joya’s insurance covered the procedure today, and she could thank her parents for that one. I looked around the room at all the different faces. The women were young and old. Some looked like they had been out partying the night before, like Joya and me. Others looked professional. They wore slacks, work shoes, and they clutched their designer purses and wallets, waiting for their name to be called. Some of them stared off into a faraway place and were lost in their thoughts. Others conversed with their friends who came along for moral support. From what I could see without looking too nosy, there were only two women here with their male partners.

  Just two. Just like Mr. Chestnut, the men were able to skate out of the hard part and left the women to deal with it. None of the girls were crying.

  Joya and I waited in a corner of the room, and we were shivering because it was so cold. The frigid air blasted out the vents through my hoodie above us and my toes were numb as I crossed and uncrossed my feet trying to get the blood flowing while we waited. I looked around the room and most of the seats were taken and there was nowhere else for us to sit. I saw Joya shaking every few minutes and I couldn’t tell if it was because it was freezing in here or she was nervous. Maybe both.