Who You Wit'?

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Who You Wit'? Page 11

by Paula Chase


  “I guess I’d have to be,” Lizzie said. She hugged her knees to her chest in a sullen pout.

  Mina saw the uncertainty in Lizzie’s eyes. She knew Lizzie meant it, but saying you were cool with a breakup and living through one were two different things. Goose bumps crawled up her arm in the warm night, and before she could squash it, one selfish thought entered her mind—I’m running out of time to spend with Brian. Where am I going to find time to be there for you if you guys break up?

  She dunked her feet in the water, butterfly kicking them to distract herself from her own thoughts. Her hands fluttered to check her hair, safely secured in its Pomeranian ponytail, smoothing the sides absently.

  As if summoned by her thoughts, Brian appeared by her side, towering over her. He touched the top of her head. “Hey. Come here for a second.”

  Mina stood up. “I’ll be back, y’all.”

  “Sprung,” Michael mouthed before tugging Lizzie onto the chaise with him and shoving off and into the middle of a volleyball game.

  Mina followed Brian into the house. It was deathly silent inside compared to the cacophony beyond the French doors. Mina shook her head to make her ears pop. She hesitated when she realized Brian was heading upstairs.

  “What about your parents?” she whispered, peering around for any signs of them.

  “They’re out front on guard duty.” He ignored the quizzical look on Mina’s face, took her hand, and urged her along the stairs.

  They walked into his darkened room, which overlooked the backyard. A wide slice of light from the pool filtered in from a window, brightening a single spot in the room. Mina stood in the slice of light, looking out over the fun.

  “So, you mad at me?” Brian asked over her shoulder. His chin brushed her spiky pony.

  Mina’s shoulders hitched even as relief flooded her body. She’d pretty much expended all her energy making up with Lizzie last night. It was too hard to be mad at him while Lizzie was mad at her. It was like flying without a net.

  Brian stepped in closer behind her.

  It took every ounce of Mina’s willpower not to turn around and throw herself in his arms, but she kept her vigil over the party below them. Her waist grew warm when his hands rested there on her bare skin, just above her sarong. The feeling intensified when Brian’s lips brushed her ears, giving her the warm chills.

  “You got me in trouble,” he said.

  Mina craned her neck to look at him. “How? What did I do?”

  Brian nodded toward the backyard. “You and your party.”

  “I didn’t invite all these people, honestly.” She mentally ticked off how many people were in attendance, stopping at forty because it was hard to count with so many people moving around. “You know stuff gets crazy whenever it gets out an upper is having something.” Mina gnawed at her lip. “Should I tell your mom it was my fault? Is she really po’ed?”

  Mina felt Brian shake his head no against her ponytail.

  “What’s your punishment? She’s not letting you go to Duke?”

  Brian laughed. “You wish.”

  “You know I do.” An involuntary sigh of resignation escaped her lips.

  His hands wrapped around her as he spoke. “I didn’t mean to leave you hanging yesterday.”

  “Really?” Mina scowled in the darkness. “Because it sure looked like you meant to.”

  “I was mad at how you came at me.”

  “I’m sorry,” Mina said. Her eyes wandered the yard until she spotted Lizzie and Michael in some oddball lounge race. “I did come at you wrong. But Lizzie was mad at me, and I was mad at myself. So I took it out on you.”

  Brian tweaked her side. “It’s cool.”

  Mina took a step forward and sat on the window’s ledge, facing Brian. “Everybody’s saying you’ve got me sprung.”

  “Umm, ’cause you are,” Brian said. He pulled her off the ledge and toward him. They kissed long and full, his hands kneading her waist. Just when he’d gotten Mina to the point where the rest of the world ceased to exist, he pulled back, smiling down at her. “What’s wrong with being sprung?”

  Guess who’s coming for pizza?

  “I still got a lot of pain, I ain’t dealt with it all.”

  —Bow Wow ft. T-Pain, “Outta My System”

  Icould get used to this, Kelly thought.

  She and Greg were having a great time. She’d been a little freaked out about going on a solo date—it was her first one—and had told herself it would be just like a tutoring session. Thinking of it like that had calmed her down lots. But now, sitting across from Greg in the booth at Rio’s Ria, she realized it was nothing like tutoring at all. And that was a good thing.

  Greg was much more confident when he wasn’t bumbling over translations. And instead of being frustrated by his weaknesses, Kelly could focus on how funny he was, how he seemed to know so many people, as evidenced by the number of people, especially girls, who stopped by to say hello, and how dang cute he was. His nearly hairless face made him look like a little boy. But when he’d shown Kelly a slash he’d gotten on his leg at a lacrosse game weeks before, the bulge of his calf muscle reminded her, a little boy he wasn’t.

  So this was what it was like to be with a nice guy.

  A flash of shame bolted through Kelly’s mind. Angel wasn’t really a bad guy. He…oh, my God, don’t think about Angel right now, Kelly chided herself.

  She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and smiled brighter, hoping Greg didn’t realize she was daydreaming.

  “I’m surprised it’s not packed in here,” Greg said, gazing over the thick, but not wall-to-wall crowd.

  Kelly nodded, then it hit her. “I think I know why it’s not as crowded.”

  Greg’s eyebrow raised in question.

  “Do you have anything to do after this?” Kelly’s heart fluttered.

  Greg shook his head as he sipped from his soda. “You?”

  “Actually, yes.” A deep fissure of pleasure zipped through Kelly’s heart when Greg’s face fell. So he cared that she had something to do. Score! Goal or whatever you say in lacrosse.

  Greg glanced down at his cell phone. “Do you need to go now?”

  Kelly’s head swished back and forth. “No. But do you want to go with me later? Brian James is having a pool party tonight. So I was heading over there afterward.”

  Greg’s face lit up. “Yeah? I know Brian. We had gym together last semester.”

  “Well, you know that’s Mina’s boyfriend, right?”

  Greg nodded slowly, as if he were trying to reconcile his memories while answering.

  “That’s where I’m going.” Kelly balled up her napkin and sat back. She continued shyly, “Mina told me to invite you. But I wasn’t sure if you already had something else to do or whatever.”

  Greg grinned. “First, I thought you had double booked. I was like, ‘snap, she nexting me.’”

  He and Kelly laughed, and just as Kelly was about to say something witty in reply, her tongue froze. Either her mind was playing tricks on her, or Angel was walking in, heading her way.

  She tried to tear her gaze away, but couldn’t. His smile, stretching from his thin lips to his light brown eyes, was easy and confident. Kelly noticed that his brown hair was much longer on top, thick with waves, than when she’d last run into him at Jacinta’s a few months back. Finally, Greg turned around to see what she was looking at. By that time, Jacinta and Raheem were also in. Kelly saw the worry on Jacinta’s face. It looked like Jacinta was trying to get to the table first, but the Ria was too crowded for her to do any zipping by Angel, who seemed to have a radar on Kelly as he beelined for the table.

  “You know them?” Greg asked.

  “I…”

  “Wassup, mami?” Angel said. He sat on Kelly’s side of the booth, scooting her in as he made himself comfortable. He stuck his fist out for a pound from Greg. “What’s up, man? I’m Angel.”

  Greg tapped Angel’s fist lightly with his own. “Hey, man, I
’m Greg.” His eyes glided over to Kelly, confused, questioning. If he didn’t know who Angel was, the terror in Kelly’s face was probably giving him a clue.

  “Hey, Kelly.” Jacinta finally reached the table. “Sorry to barge in. But you weren’t answering your phone, and I had to ask you something.”

  A few million unasked questions floated between the two girls as Raheem muttered an introduction to Greg, followed by more fist pounding.

  “So, Kellita, what you been up to, girl?” Angel’s platinum grille shone as he grinned. He winked suggestively at Kelly, and her stomach dropped. He nodded toward Greg. “Is he why you too busy for me?”

  As if that was the proof or signal he needed, Greg stood up. “I’ll be back, Kelly.”

  Angel snickered once Greg walked off. “Damn, he a ol’ punk. How he gonna let some other dude bust up in here with him and his girl and then leave?”

  He put his hand out for some dap, and Raheem smacked it lightly.

  Kelly’s chest heaved. She spoke evenly, anger and fear lacing her words. “Angel, what are you doing?”

  “’Cause I texted you the other day, and you didn’t get back to me. So.” His shoulders hitched, finishing the thought—I’m here.

  “Kelly, honestly, I did try and call you. Is your phone on?” Jacinta asked.

  “I can’t hear it in here,” Kelly said. She pulled the phone out and saw Jacinta’s five missed calls.

  “So what, that’s you now?” Angel thumbed over to Greg, who stood talking at a table of his lacrosse buddies.

  Kelly shuddered as visions of a gang fight screamed across her mind.

  “Angel, I don’t want to go to prom with you.” Kelly spoke like she was lecturing a child. “Why would you even ask?”

  Raheem and Jacinta made themselves scarce.

  Angel’s light brown eyes darkened. “’Cause I think you tripping. I know you was pissed about that little traffic stop—”

  “You mean drug bust?” Kelly snapped.

  Angel chuckled. “Okay, bust? The cop didn’t even know I had something on me.”

  “Because you made me stash it in my pocket.” Kelly spoke through clenched teeth.

  “Alright. But that was last year. It’s not like we got arrested.” His voice softened to what Kelly called his romantic thug lilt, and he asked in Spanish, “You telling me you still mad?”

  For a second, Kelly’s limbs went jelly, remembering how safe that voice used to make her feel, however brief she and Angel’s time had been. “I’m not mad,” Kelly admitted. “But you lied to me, saying you had stopped dealing drugs. Well, you did what you had to, and so did I.”

  Angel’s head reared back. He looked Kelly up and down. “Look at little mami, all spicy.” He chuckled. “See, that’s why I can’t stop thinking about you, girl. Look at you, got me all sprung, chasing you and shit.”

  Kelly fought back a grin.

  It’s not cool to be happy about that, she thought. Still, she couldn’t help it. She tucked her hair and swallowed the smile before it spread.

  “Angel, I’m serious. I don’t want to go…”

  “Come on, Kelly. I leave for school in August. Hang with me one more time,” Angel said.

  “School? What school?” Kelly asked curiously.

  He winked. “Yeah, see, you thought I was gonna be a ol’buster just running the streets.”

  “I didn’t say that,” Kelly stammered. Of course that’s what she’d thought.

  “I’m going to Towson University.” He nudged her. “So you more down with going now that you know I’m ready give up my life of crime?”

  “If you had given it up last year, we wouldn’t be in this mess,” Kelly muttered.

  Angel leaned in close, his lips touching her ear. “You don’t need to answer me right now. Call me tomorrow.”

  “Prom is next week. What am I supposed to do about a dress?” Kelly asked, flustered, knowing full well she had a whole closet full of what her grandmother called cocktail dresses—more than perfect for any prom. But she didn’t know what else to say.

  Angel’s grin was a mile long. “You know I got you. I’ll take care of that.” His eyes softened with innocence as he said, “You know, if you decide to go.”

  He stood up, winked, and strolled away from the booth. Kelly watched him go over to Greg, say something, then point at her. She wanted to fall through the floor.

  Jacinta laid into Angel once they were back in the car before Raheem could pull back into traffic. “That was ignorant. Man, just let her be, Angel. She not trying to get with you.”

  From the back seat, Angel’s light brown eyes blazed with a smug satisfaction. “Then she need say that.” He licked his lips. “If she was all into the dude she was with, why she sit there and let him walk away?”

  Jacinta rolled her eyes. “Because that’s Kelly. She wasn’t going to make a scene just because you trying to get your swagger back.”

  “What you talking about? I never lost it,” Angel snapped. He railed against Jacinta. “This between me and Shorty anyway. So be ’bout your own business, girl. Go play mommy.”

  “Man, whatever.” Jacinta sucked her teeth. But Angel’s comment had accomplished his goal. She sat in the front seat, arms folded, glaring out the window.

  Raheem nudged her playfully. “You take the test yet?”

  “I haven’t even bought one yet,” Jacinta said. She felt Raheem’s eyes on her, narrowed in confusion or maybe, disapproval. She pretended not to notice.

  “She don’t need no test to tell her what she already know,” Angel teased, practically basking in Jacinta’s discomfort.

  “When you gonna take it, Jacinta?” Raheem asked.

  The gentle tone of his inquiry surprised her. She glanced over at him through the darkness and saw that his eyes questioned softly. It flooded her with a mix of guilt and wariness. She had no intention of taking any test. She was going to wait her period out, that was that. But she wasn’t going to get into it with Angel in the car. Seeming to understand that, Raheem moved on.

  “Since I’mma have a room to myself at Georgetown, you and the baby can visit anytime you want.” His teeth flashed in the darkness as he grinned. “I mean, I don’t know about staying the night, though. I need to see if Coach is down with getting me a hotel room when y’all want to stay the weekend.”

  Angel laughed along. “Naw, they probably not down with no crying baby in the dorm.”

  Jacinta gritted her teeth. She absently scratched at a spot on her face, hot and tingling with frustration, and wondered how Raheem could see them so clearly with a baby, like it was getting a dog or having his nieces and nephew for the weekend. The whole picture made her stomach clench. She knew a girl who had gotten pregnant when they were twelve, Taquon. She’d walked around with her big belly hanging out, still trying to wear baby doll tee shirts and miniskirts. Jacinta thought Taquon looked a hot mess, but no one else seemed to think it was a big deal. A few adults even said Taquon looked “cute, all tiny with that big belly.”

  And Taquon never seemed embarrassed. If anything, she had a certain hip-swaying walk like she was proud of it—well, until she was too big and could only waddle.

  Taquon worked at the Auntie Anne’s in the mall now. Last time Jacinta had seen her was last year when she’d gone to get a pretzel and they had caught up on old times. Taquon had shown Jacinta a picture of her four-year-old son, and they’d popped some yang about getting together one day. Something they knew wasn’t going to happen. They weren’t really friends to begin with, but once Taquon had gotten pregnant, her father made sure Jacinta knew he expected better.

  Jacinta hadn’t given Taquon a second thought until recently. Now she couldn’t get Taquon off her mind.

  Taquon wasn’t the only young chick from Pirates Cove Jacinta knew who had gotten pregnant, but she had been the youngest. And Jacinta still remembered her father watching Taquon walk down the street in a bikini top and bootie shorts, stretch-marked stomach on display, shaking h
is head and wondering aloud where her parents had been while she’d been out having sex with a boyfriend who was fifteen but still only in seventh grade.

  Up until that day, Jacinta had never heard her father speak a bad word about their community or anyone in it. He’d been, and still was, actively involved in community affairs, neighborhood watch, the whole nine yards. Everyone knew him, and he seemed to know them. But it took seeing a twelve-year-old with a stomach the size of beach ball for him to utter the first negative words about the place she’d grown up.

  “Don’t you ever call yourself strutting around like it’s some badge of honor that everybody know you been laying with some dude,” he’d said so angrily Jacinta thought he was mad with her. “People around here act like using a condom is a federal crime.”

  Raheem and Jacinta had just started going out the summer Taquon had her baby. Sex was the last thing on Jacinta’s mind. And by the time it was on her mind, her father’s narrow-eyed anger floated back into her head, and she’d made sure she and Raheem always used a condom.

  Now she couldn’t remember the last time they’d used a condom. They hadn’t on a regular basis since she started taking birth control at thirteen.

  Suddenly, Taquon’s voice, stuck in an automatic happy customer service tone, saying, “Girl, we need to hook up and hang out one day,” mixed with her father’s steely, angry words, “Don’t you ever call yourself strutting around like it’s some badge of honor that everybody know you been laying with some dude,” in her head. She closed her eyes, pushing both voices to the back of her mind, working unsuccessfully to mute them.

  Her eyes fluttered open when Raheem said, “Am I still dropping you over to Brian’s house?”

  Jacinta nodded, then realized Raheem couldn’t see that in the dark. “Yeah,” she said simply.

  “What, you don’t want to hang with me and Heem tonight?” Angel pushed on the back of Jacinta’s seat.

  No, Jacinta thought. I don’t. I want to be somewhere I don’t need to think about babies and boyfriends and futures.

  But out loud, she said, “Naw, I’m hanging with my girls tonight.” As an afterthought, she added, “And stop pushing my seat.”

 

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