by Shelly Ellis
“Man, I don’t wanna hear no preachin’ from you,” Cole sneered, “you corny-ass nigga! Dolla buys and sells niggas like you!”
Derrick felt his anger perk up at those words, but he fought to get himself under control. He reminded himself that despite Cole’s bravado, he was still an angry, scared teenage boy—much like Derrick had been at that age. As he had many times in his life, he channeled the words of his mentor.
Don’t give in to the anger, Dee, he heard Mr. Theo say in his head. Don’t be a sucker for that bullshit.
“And you’re just as expendable, Cole,” Derrick said calmly. “You’re useful to him now, but what’s gonna happen when he turns on you, because he will. The only loyalty a dude like Dolla has is to himself.”
“I’d like to hear you tell him that shit to his face,” Cole said in a whisper that almost sounded like a hiss.
“He doesn’t have to,” Morgan said, making Cole’s gaze snap back to her. “He said it to you—and I’m saying it to you too. That man is using you and wasting your life and all the potential that you have, Cole. And frankly, it pisses me off! I feel stupid and used!”
“Used?” Cole looked genuinely taken aback and embarrassed. “I . . . I wasn’t trying to use you, Miss Owens.”
Derrick knew the boy had feelings for Morgan. If anybody could strike his emotional core under that tough exterior, it had to be her—and that was exactly what she was doing right now.
“You asked me to help you research colleges, to try to find you scholarships. You told me stories about your dreams, about how you wanted to build furniture like me. So were you just running some game on me too? You had the dumb wood-shop teacher thinking that you really gave a shit about getting a degree in design. That folder I gave you is probably sitting in the bottom of a trash can right now, isn’t it? Admit it!”
Cole quickly shook his head. “No, Miss Owens. I mean . . . I haven’t filled out the applications yet, but I . . . I wasn’t running a game on you. I really do want to go to college and study design, but I just . . . I just . . .”
“You just what?” she asked.
“Working for Dolla ain’t all about the easy cash. Back in my old neighborhood it was hard for me, you know?” He went sheepish. “I got . . . I got my ass beat a lot. Niggas used to steal my stuff. When these dudes came around saying they could protect me, and all I had to do was a few favors for them every now and then, it seemed like a good deal.”
“Does it still seem like one?” Morgan asked.
“Most of the time,” he answered softly, then lowered his eyes. “But not today.”
Morgan dropped to her knees in front of him, catching both Cole and Derrick off guard. She grabbed his hands, making him meet her eye to eye. “Look, Cole, I need you to listen to me, and listen to me good, okay? You’re sixteen and I know that right now you think you understand everything . . . that old-ass people like me don’t get it, but I swear to you that I do. And I’m scared for you. I really am. If you keep doing this shit, if you stay mixed up with Dolla, who knows what is going to happen to you. I need you to stop. I need you to stop this shit today.”
He shook his head. “I can’t, Miss Owens. I can’t just—”
“Yes, you can,” she insisted. “If it means moving away from here to get away from him, so be it. I’ll help you find a college that will take you.”
“But my mom . . . my mom can’t just move! He’ll find her. He’ll—”
“If you’re worried about your mother, I can talk to some people,” Derrick said. “Maybe they can help her with relocation and her expenses. If there’s a need, we can make it work.”
“So will you stop? No more working for him. No more smuggling suitcases. Make excuses for now to bide your time with him, until we can get you out of here. But please stop this shit, Cole,” she pleaded. “You’ve got to stop.”
The young man looked between her and Derrick. “It’s not that easy.”
“We know. But you’re not doing it alone,” Derrick said.
After some time, Cole finally nodded. “Okay. I’ll stop workin’ for him.”
“You mean that?” Morgan asked. “You aren’t just telling me shit I want to hear just because I want to hear it?”
He shook his head. “No, I mean it. I wouldn’t lie to you, Miss Owens.”
She smiled and let go of his hands. “Thank you, Cole.” She then rose to her feet.
“All right, Cole. Go back to lunch or whatever class you have this period,” Derrick said. “We’re just going to have to take your word for it.”
About a minute later, after Cole had stepped out of Derrick’s office, Derrick rose from his chair and rounded his desk.
“I think he really meant what he said in here, believe it or not. He’s scared, but I think he’s going to try to stop working for Dolla,” Derrick said as her gaze drifted back to the door where students now wandered up and down the hall.
“I think so too.”
“You did a good job with him.”
“So did you. I could tell he got under your skin, but you kept your cool.”
“Yeah, it was easy knowing you were doing the heavy lifting. I guess we work well together.”
Her eyes drifted from the doorway, back to his face, and again he was filled with regret—for the decisions he made that he knew he had no choice but to make, for what he threw away.
“Look, Morgan”—he stepped around her and closed his office door—“I . . . I know whatever apologies I make will sound empty—”
“Stop, Derrick.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“But I feel like I should explain what happened. Where my mind was at when I—”
“I don’t want to talk about it! What part of that do you not understand?”
“But I want you to know that . . . that my feelings for you never changed.”
Her eyes shot open.
“I still care about you. I still . . . I still love you.”
He could see she was blinking back tears. “If you loved me, then why did you hurt me?” she choked. “You’re still with her, Derrick!”
“Because I made a promise to Melissa. She and I have been together since we were kids. I proposed to her. I was ready to walk away from her, but when . . . when she told me that she wanted to make it work, I felt like I didn’t have a choice. I had to stay.”
“So you felt obligated to be with her? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
“Not obligated! It’s not like we had some contract. I love her.”
She burst into laughter. “Oh, here we go! You love her too! You love her. You love me. You just love fuckin’ everybody, huh, Derrick?”
“You know it’s not like that. I made her a promise,” he repeated. “That means something.”
“I understand,” she said as the tears spilled onto her cheeks and she wiped them away with the back of her hand. “Your promises to her meant more than the promises you made to me. Got it.”
He exhaled and his shoulders sank. “That’s not true.”
“No, it is fucking true! It is true! I told you, I will always be the side chick to guys like you. I will always be the runner-up. You know it, and I know it.” She then turned back around to the door, to escape.
“Don’t say that,” he argued, grabbing her arm, stopping her. “That isn’t how I see you. You mean more to me than that!”
“Let go of me!” she shouted, trying futilely to pull away from him. “Get your hands off of me!”
He wanted to let go. He told himself to do it, but he didn’t. Instead he tugged her toward him and looped an arm around her waist. He pulled her flat against him. “You mean more than that to me,” he whispered, staring down at her.
When he did, all the fight seeped out of her. She looped her arms around his neck and stood on the balls of her feet. He didn’t know who had done it first, who had made the first move, but within seconds their lips collided. All the bottled need and des
ire he’d felt for her came bursting out like a genie from a lamp, and for a while he couldn’t tell where his mouth ended and hers began. He shifted her so that she was pressed back against his desk and she clawed at his back as the kiss deepened. They didn’t even pause when they heard the knock at the door.
“Dee! Dee, you in there?” Melissa called out as she pushed the door open. “They called an early dismissal at school today so I thought I’d surprise you for lu—”
Her words tapered off as her eyes landed on Derrick and Morgan, mid-embrace.
Derrick released Morgan and tried to ease her away, but the damage was done. Melissa stared at the couple in shock.
Why, of all the days for her to just show up, did it have to be today?
“Lissa,” he said just as the fast food bag and soda she held slid from her hands to the linoleum floor, exploding on impact, sending Coke and French fries splattering in all directions. She then turned and stumbled dazedly out the door.
“Lissa!” he shouted, running after her, but he slipped on the soda and collided with the door frame. He landed sprawled on his ass in the pool of Coke. “Lissa, wait!” he yelled after her, but she didn’t stop. He watched as she disappeared into the stairwell.
* * *
When Derrick arrived home less than forty minutes later, he expected to find the entire apartment destroyed. He thought in a fit of anger and hurt that Melissa might trash the place and all his clothing and belongings would be dangling off their balcony or decorating the bushes in front of the building. But instead, he found the living room and kitchen in the same neat condition that he had left it in that morning. His album collection, stereo, and prized signed Chicago Bulls jersey that hung on their living room wall remained untouched, which actually worried him more.
She was home. He had seen her car parked in their parking garage reserved space. Melissa wasn’t one to take something like this—discovering her man kissing another girl—lightly. So what was she doing?
“Lissa?” he called out as he shut the front door behind him and locked it. She didn’t answer him, but he heard the sound of drawers being slammed shut in their bedroom. He walked down the hall and found her throwing clothes into a suitcase. Brownie sat on the bedroom floor in his carrier, meowing plaintively.
“Lissa?” he said, walking to their bed, where one of her carry-on suitcases sat open. “What . . . what are you doing?”
“What the fuck does it look like I’m doing, Dee? I’m moving out!” she said as she grabbed a handful of shirts and hurled them into the suitcase. “I left my engagement ring on your dresser. Do whatever the hell you want with it. I don’t care.”
He cringed. “Don’t do this, baby. Can we please talk about this first?”
To his surprise, she paused in her packing to glare at him. She strode around the bed and stood in front of him. “Sure, let’s talk about it, Dee. So just how long have you been messing around behind my back? I want to know. And tell me the truth—that is if you’re even capable of doing that.”
He opened his mouth then closed it. He pursed his lips. “It’s been . . . It’s been a few months. We . . . we started back in November.”
“November?” she repeated back, sounding shocked. “You’ve been cheating on me for damn near six months? You had me crying about kissing Jamal and the whole time you were fuckin’ some—”
“I never fucked her!”
“I don’t believe you! I don’t believe one goddamn word you say, Dee! Everything you’ve told me has been a lie! Everything you’ve promised to me—”
“I’m not lying! We never had sex but yes, I did . . . I did cheat. I did see her almost every night. I went to her place more than once. But baby, you and I had hit a rough patch when Morgan and I started . . . started talking. We weren’t communicating and things were so . . . so much easier with her.”
“So much easier?” She pointed at her chest. “Are you really trying to blame me for your cheating, Dee? You’re really going to pull some shit like that?” she shouted.
“No, but you have to admit that things had changed, Lissa! We weren’t the same anymore and being with her was like . . . it was like how it used to be between us. But then things got better for us again,” he said feebly, “and I . . . and I told her that I wanted to try and make our relationship work so I—”
“So is that what you were doing?” she yelled, shoving him in the chest. “Is that what the fuck you were doing when you had your tongue down her throat? You were trying to make our fuckin’ relationship work?”
He stared at her mutely.
“Answer me!” she screamed, slapping him across the cheek. And he accepted her blow as due punishment, as his penance. “Don’t just stand there lookin’ stupid!”
“I didn’t mean for this to happen. I swear to you. I didn’t . . . I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want to hurt her either.”
And it was true; he hadn’t wanted to hurt either one of them because he cared deeply for them both. But Mr. Theo had told him a while back that when you tried to please everybody, you inevitably would end up disappointing everyone. He now knew what the older man meant.
“You didn’t want to hurt her?” she repeated in disbelief and then shook her head again bemusedly. “You’re . . . you’re in love with her, aren’t you, Dee?”
A voice in his head told him to lie, to try to salvage whatever feelings Melissa may have left for him. If he lied good enough, fast enough, she might forgive him in the end. But he couldn’t lie to her again. She deserved better than that, even if it meant losing her, so he nodded.
“Yes. Yes, I love her. But I love you too.”
“Oh, God. Oh, my God,” she whimpered, raising her hands to her temples, shaking her head in disbelief.
“I thought I could choose . . . but . . . but I can’t. I can’t, Lissa.”
The tears began to spill then. She angrily wiped them away. “Fuck you, Dee!”
He watched helplessly as she returned to the bed and closed the zipper on her carry-on suitcase. She dropped it to the floor and rolled it past him, shoving him out of the way before she leaned down and grabbed Brownie’s carrier.
“You know what? You don’t have to choose between us. I’ve already made the decision for you.”
She then walked down the hall to their front door, lugging her suitcase and carrier, and slammed the door shut behind her.
Chapter 17
Ricky
Ricky stared listlessly into his drink, not saying anything. Instead, he settled into the familiarity of the atmosphere. He and Derrick were at Ray’s Bar and Lounge—a childhood hangout. It was comforting in some ways to be here tonight and he knew he didn’t need to say anything. Derrick would do all the talking. After all, he was the one who had asked to meet up this evening. He wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t have something to get off of his chest, and judging from the story he’d just told, he had a lot to offload.
“I fucked up, right? I fucked up big, didn’t I?” Derrick asked.
Ricky shrugged.
“I tried to talk to her while she was packing up her shit, but it didn’t change anything,” Derrick conceded as he took a drink from his beer bottle. “She left me. She even took Brownie with her. Took the damn cat. I just don’t know where she went. She’s not returning my phone calls.”
Ricky didn’t comment. Instead, he took another sip from his glass.
“I mean . . . I get it. I cheated. I’m in love with someone else, but I’m still in love with her too. I didn’t want to lose her! But what do I do? What the hell do I do? I don’t even know what . . .” His words drifted off as he squinted at Ricky. “Hey, are you listening?”
“What?” Ricky said absently, raising his eyes from his shot glass.
“I said are you even fuckin’ listening? You’re sitting over there lookin’ bored. My whole world just fell apart and in the thirty minutes we’ve been here, you haven’t said shit!”
Ricky loudly groused and slumped back ag
ainst the booth cushion. He sucked his teeth. “Dee, your world is always fuckin’ fallin’ apart. You’ve always had some drama with Melissa. That shit never stops. It doesn’t change! As a matter of fact, your fucked-up relationship is yet another reason why I don’t ever wanna get serious with any broad. Who needs the headache?” Ricky coughed out a cold laugh and took another sip from his glass, letting the burning liquid slide down his throat. “Talkin’ about ‘I fucked up.’ Yeah, you fucked up! You were fuckin’ around on her with some other girl, and she found out about it. What do you expect?”
“I wasn’t fuckin’ around on her,” Derrick clarified, twisting up his face. “Morgan and I never hooked up!”
“So you didn’t put your dick in it—yet. Big damn deal! You told her you were in love with the other broad. That’s worse than just fuckin’ her! And Lissa caught you kissing her, bruh! The honest truth is that she should’ve left your ass! You left her with no choice. Shit, as far as I’m concerned, good for her! What was she supposed to do? Say, ‘Yeah, Dee, I get you can’t make a decision. I guess you can keep your side piece.’ See how stupid that sounds? Stop being so goddamn selfish for once!”
“The honest truth?” Derrick’s face went stony. “Oh, so we just being brutally honest now?”
“You told me to talk. Were you expecting me to just lie to you and tell you whatever the fuck you wanted to hear?”
“No, I didn’t expect you to lie. But while we’re being all honest, how about I break some shit down for you too?” He tilted his head. “You claim that everything that’s happening to you is that chick Simone’s fault, but let me tell you as an ‘honest’ friend—it ain’t! You brought this shit on yourself. She was just an excuse! How many times did I tell you that you should’ve cut ties with Dolla? Huh? How many times did I warn you?”
“Oh, you’re pissed about shit you did, so now you want to give me a fuckin’ lecture?”
“Everybody knew what you were doin’!” Derrick continued, ignoring him. “We didn’t snitch on your ass, but someone else was bound to do it eventually. It was only a matter of time. She just did that shit before anyone else could. So I’m not the only one who’s getting what they deserve.”