True Story (3 page)

This dude was always somewhere I didn't need him to be. Seriously, did he just walk up behind me or was he standing here the whole time gawking at me?

Ugh!

Josiah was truly the last person I wanted to see, especially since I'd just gotten to the place where I didn't think about him anymore or have internal bouts of wondering what had happened between us.

I should've known I would see him at this party though. After all, he was one of Stiles U's all-star basketball players and Big Country was his boy. But still . . . we had a history... and it wasn't pretty.

After being together for almost three years (two years in high school and half a year at Stiles U), this dude went crazy on me. Lost his mind, and his morals. And while I was off loving him, he took my heart, my secrets, my dreams, my virginity, my faith and belief in him, laid it all on the bed, sandwiched it between him and some ho, and together they screwed me.

Royally.

And now he stood here trying to play me . . . again, like really?

I twisted my lips and just as I was about to work through my attitude enough to be cordial to him, something came over me and forced me to say, “Yes. I
can
speak. But I didn't.” I turned back toward Khya and Bling.

“I see you still feeling some kinda way.” Josiah chuckled arrogantly.

I whipped back around, looked at Josiah like he was crazy, and what did he do? He laughed in my face. And the single dimple in his left cheek lit up. Ugh, I hated that he was so fine all the time! I mean, Jesus, did this dude ever have a busted day? Everything about him reminded me of my weaknesses: Tall—six-four. Smooth skin the color of caramel.

He'd gotten a little more buff since the last time I had seen him; and his hard, protruding pecs definitely had a presence as his deep purple Omega Psi Phi T-shirt, with Big Brothah Fly written in gold, lay nicely over them. His baggy jeans fit just right and his purple Nikes . . . oh, baby, this dude was doin' it in the deliciously cute department.

But. What. Ever.

Because I knew that underneath all that fineness was a creep. Plain and simple.

My eyes inched over Josiah from head to toe as I curled my upper lip and said, “I'm definitely not feeling any kind of way but happy. 'Cause from what I see, you did me a favor, boo.”

“So then tell me.” He took two steps toward me and boldly stroked the right side of my hair, tucking it behind my ear. “Why you mad?”

Did he just touch me?
“Boy, I don't have time for you.”

“You need to learn to tell the truth.” He took two more steps toward me and we were chest to chest with my back pressed against the bar. My heart pounded like thunder and I wondered if he could feel it.

“Why's your heart beating so fast?” he asked.

Silence.

“I know why, 'cause you and I both know you gon' always have a place for me.”

“Oh word?” Zaire, my new boo, said, seemingly appearing from nowhere.

I felt like someone had drop-kicked me in the gut. Instantly I pushed Josiah back and away from me.

Khya leaned over and whispered to me, “We may have to jump him.” She slyly pointed to Josiah. And all I could think was she was probably right.

Josiah looked over to Zaire and then turned back to me. “Oh, I see you're still rebounding with convicts.”

Screeech . . . What the eff did he just say?
“Excuse you!”

Khya snapped her fingers and twisted her neck. “Slow down, Low Down. You might be cute and have a bright NBA future ahead of you, Josiah. But yo trill is all ill! How you gon' say something like that? Zaire is re to the formed!”

“Yo—” Zaire said, but Josiah cut him off.

“Oh, my fault. I forgot that jail and the judge helped you turn your life around, bruh.”

“Exactly!” Khya agreed.

“Khya!” I snapped. The last thing I needed was her agreeing with this fool.

Judging by the way thumping veins created a winding road map that ran along the sides of Zaire's neck and up into his throat, I knew he was milliseconds away from making Josiah a murder statistic.

“Please stop before he kills you,” I said to Josiah and then turned to Zaire and reached for his hand. “Come on, babe.” But Zaire snatched away and walked up on Josiah. My heart pounded so hard I could feel it in my throat.

I wedged myself between them and faced my man. “Zaire, babe, let's just go. Please.”

Zaire ignored me. Actually, it seemed as if I'd disappeared from his sight as he sandwiched me between himself and Josiah.

I just knew the music would be coming to a shrieking halt at any minute. Big Country would be flying over here, and they would both be gunnin' for my man. And, yeah, I knew he could take them one-on-one. But. I wasn't so sure how things would go down if they jumped him. “Please, let's just leave, Zaire,” I begged.

Zaire stared at Josiah intensely. “Hear me on this, pot-nah. These lil frat boy clowns you got standing around—I dare any one of 'em to buck. Straight up. Where I come from, ballin' lil suckers like you get put to sleep permanently. So let me warn you, unless yo mama got a pretty little black dress you wanna help her get into, you'll stop comin' for me so I don't have to finish you.”

“Zaire, baby—”

“Bruh.” Josiah sneered. “The only thing between us is air and opportunity.” Josiah placed his hands on my waist, picked me up, and placed me to the side.

I quickly wedged myself back between them and spun around toward Josiah. “Would you shut up? What is wrong with you?” I turned back toward Zaire and he wasn't there. All I could see and hear was the growing crowd staring me down, hissing and snickering.

“What the heck are y'all looking at?” I spat, aggravated. I couldn't believe that Zaire had walked away and left me standing here with the enemy.

I quickly turned back toward Josiah and it took everything in me not to haul off and slap the spit out of his mouth! Instead, I swiftly walked away and did my best to find my baby.

“Girl.” Khya grinned in disbelief, catching up to me.

“Whatchu workin'—voodoo? You got these two fools trippin. ' ” She put her hand up for a high five and I left her hanging. “Gurl, you got that bomb!”

As we neared the door, we heard, “Ah, 'scuse me,” as someone cut straight across our path, and we practically tripped and fell over one another.

“Ah, 'scuse me.” Courtney stood before us with his suitcases in tow and his greasy lips poppin'.

“Not now, Courtney!” I attempted to go around him.

He ignored me and blocked my path. Moved his shoulders and feet to the beat, did a Michael Jackson kick and spin, and snapped his fingers. “Ah, 'scuse me. But I'ma need you two to do me two favors. One: I'ma need you to drop those stank attitudes. And two: I'ma need you to watch my suitcases for me, so I can get my dance on!”

And just as I went to tell him
No, and get out of my face!
all that was left of Courtney were his suitcases and an echo of him screaming, “Party ova here!”

I
bolted out of the Dip-Threw's door and did my best to catch up with Zaire.

This whole scene was crazy and was so anti-me. I was not the type to run after anybody and especially through a party. At most, I'd take a second glance. I might even wish they'd come back.

But that was it.

Not yell their name.

Plead with them to slow down and turn around.

Or chase after them in five-inch pencil heels.

So why I chose this night to go against my grain . . . I don't know . . . I just knew that this was a nightmare and I needed it to end.

“Would you hold up for a minute?”

Nothing. He didn't even look my way.

“Zaire!” I yelled, causing a few people standing on the sidewalk and sitting on the galleries to gape at me like I was crazy.

I hurried up the street.

Zaire had reached his black F-150.

He started the engine.

I made it to the passenger side.

He put the gear in drive.

I snatched the door open.

Hopped in.

And in between me huffin' and puffin' and wondering if I would ever catch my breath again, I pointed at Zaire and said to him, “You trippin'.”

I let out a hard sigh. “Whew. Lawd.” I fanned my face and looked down at my feet. “Do you know that these are five-inch pencil heels?” I held a spiked heel up. “These shoes are not made to beat the concrete. They are made for one spot. The stand-still-and-be-cute spot. And here you had me racing up half a block after you? Mmph, my feet hurt so bad I feel like an old ho on a Sunday morning. Tired. Stroll. Shut. Down.”

Zaire frowned and stared at me like I was stupid.

I fanned my face and then side-eyed him. “So you were really going to leave me?”

Silence.

“You had me chasing after you. Do I look like Queen Thirsty? And I
know
you heard me calling you!”

More silence.

“You didn't even slow down or give me a chance to say anything. You bolted, leaving me with the enemy. I didn't sign up for the front line. I'm not about that life. How you just abandon the platoon, homie?”

Zaire looked at me like he was disgusted and was seconds away from asking me to leave. “Really, yo, you really tryna be funny?”

“Funny? I'm in pain! My ankles hurt. My feet hurt. I haven't eaten all day. Courtney was in there channeling Michael Jackson and then he dumped his luggage on me! Well, me and Khya! And now you—you're not even listening to me!”

“I don't have to listen to you. I'm not stupid. I can see.”

“This is not about you being stupid! This is about you being wrong because what you
thought
you saw was not it at all!”

“Did Josiah have you pressed against the bar?”

“Yes, but—”

“No buts. Were you or were you not standing there while he whispered in your ear?”

“Yes!”

“Exactly.”

“But it wasn't like that!”

“Seven!”

“Would you just let me finish?”
I screamed at the top of my lungs.

“You'd better take that down,” he said sternly.

“Then listen to me! Instead of jumping to conclusions and assuming. You know Josiah is an idiot! We were having a freakin' argument! Yeah, he stroked my hair . . .”

“Oh word?” Zaire arched a brow. “Now he was playing all in your hair?”

Why did I say that?
“I didn't say he was playing all in my hair. And anyway, he was trying to be sarcastic! Not get with me!”

Zaire chuckled. A chuckle that revealed he thought I'd just spat out the dumbest bull in the world. “So he was stroking your hair and you were all up in his face letting him do it. But he wasn't trying to get with you? He was just trying to be sarcastic? Don't play me, Seven.”

“I don't have to play you!”

“Then keep it real. I saw how he looked at you. And you know I did! So cut the stupid act. 'Cause it's only pissing me off even more! And then you were arguing with him?” Zaire looked at me in disbelief. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“It's the truth!”

“Do you even know the truth?”

“What?”
Instantly, I felt like I'd been sliced across the throat. “It was an Ar. Gu. Ment!”

“Yo, listen, I'm workin' two jobs and I took time off of work to come to some whack party to be around you and a buncha ridiculous Muppets!”

“Muppets?”

He continued, “And this is how you play me? By being in your ex-boyfriend's face? What kind of dude do you think I am? Did you forget where I'm from? The streets. Yo boy is lucky I didn't bust his ass!”

“He's not my boy, and if bustin' his ass will make you feel better, then you should go lay him down Big Easy style and see how that works out for you. Now let's get back to the Muppets. Did you just call me fat?”

“There you go with the dramatics!”

“I am anything
but
dramatic! Now I'm trying to revive you from your heart attack and explain to you—”

“Didn't I just tell you I didn't want to hear it?”

“You need to listen!”

“And you need to grow up!”

Rewind...
“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Yeah, I heard you, but you can miss me with all of that. You're being real extra right now and I understand you're mad, but you are really feeling yourself.”

“No. What I'm feeling is single!”

Did I just get gut punched?
“How about this? Since you're feeling single, then you need to be single.” I threw up a two finger peace sign, quickly slid on my shoes, and just as I placed my feet on the ground I turned around and faced Zaire. “You know what, eff you, your attitude, and eff how stupid I am for loving you so much!”

I slammed the truck's door and if my feet didn't hurt so badly I would've kicked it and maybe even busted out the windows with the spikes in my heels! But I didn't. Instead, I bit into my bottom lip and quickly prayed that the tears I felt sneaking into my eyes stayed in their place, at least until I got out of there. I might have loved Zaire, but one thing I'd learned since breaking up with Josiah was, never let a guy see you cry. Ever. No matter how much you love him.

Just as I put my catwalk stroll in motion and headed back toward the party—where the only thing that mattered was a dope bass line and a smile—Zaire hopped out of his truck. “Seven, hold up. Wait.”

Hearing him call out to me unexpectedly, caused me to hesitate.

I turned around and faced him. “Oh, you expect Miss Piggy to wait for you now?”

“I didn't call you Miss Piggy.”

“But you did say you were feeling single. So, how about this? Get back in your truck and exit stage left. Now, pardon my back.” I turned away, and although my feet felt like someone had beat me in the heels, the toes, and the balls of them with nails, I slowly high-stepped and walked away like I owned the place.

“Seven!”

God, I wish I could walk faster.
But I couldn't.

Zaire yelled out, “You shouldn't wear those shoes if you can't walk in 'em.”

“Oh, now you've turned into a comedian.” I spun around.

He chuckled a bit. “And why you got on those lil-bitty shorts? The bottom of your butt is about to fall out.”

“Why are you worried about it? I'm not your concern anymore! And anyway, you know I look good. That's why you're over there dyin'. Now lie and say you're not.”

Zaire gave me a one-sided grin. “Come here, man.”

“I wish I would.” I turned my back on him.

“Oh, you're not gon' come to me now? Really? It's that easy for you to walk away?”

I sucked my teeth, paused, and looked over my shoulder. “I'm not doing this with you.”

Zaire walked over to me and reached for my hand. I snatched it back. “Don't touch me. Just say what you gotta say, so I can step.”

“You're mad as hell, huh?”

“Pissed. Now what is it?”

“Listen, when I walked up on you and Josiah, something in me just snapped.”

“Yeah, your mind.”

“Would you chill with all that?”

Silence.

He continued, “I need you to understand that when I saw you with him, I didn't know what to think.”

“You didn't need to think anything, because it was nothing.”

“He was all in your face, telling you you'll always have a spot for him. Like, word? And then he tried to play me? Yo, I have never tolerated that level of disrespect.”

“But I didn't disrespect you.”

Zaire stared at me and for a moment I wished I could read his thoughts.

“Seven, I just want you to be real with me. At all times.”

“Real with you? You wouldn't let me. I told you the truth. I only want to be with you. You have to believe that.”

“I just didn't like what I saw. That ish bothered me.” Zaire pulled me close and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Tell me something.”

“What's that?” I slid my arms around his neck.

“You love me?”

“You know I do.”

“Then act like it. And don't put me in any more situations that make me come outside of myself again, because the next time it's gon' be a problem for everybody.”