Teenage Love Affair Page 10

  Once I was done using the bathroom I walked out of the stall and suddenly felt as if I’d walked into a brick wall. “Dang! Can you say excuse me!” I said, looking up.

  “Shut up!” It was Ameen. My heart raced as I looked toward the exit and noticed that I couldn’t get out of there unless I was able to move Ameen out of my way. I looked back into Ameen’s face and his eyes were fire red. I needed to get out of there, but I couldn’t let Ameen know I was scared because then he would think he had the better of me.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?!” I pushed him in his chest, but he didn’t budge. “Would you move? What are you doing in here anyway! Following me?”

  He yoked me by my collar, and I slapped his hand. “Don’t be grabbing on me.” I attempted to get away but he pushed me back into the stall.

  “You know I owe you one!” He pushed me against the toilet. “You’re lucky I didn’t catch you when I realized what you did to my girl’s car!”

  “Your girl?” I said in disbelief, feeling as if he had slashed a knife through my jugular vein.

  He pointed his finger in my face. “You know how much money I had to spend behind what you did? Do you know the police towed that car thinking that it was abandoned?”

  “Good for the trick!” I practically laughed in his face. I was hoping that he could only see what I was showing on the outside because on the inside I was scared. I knew he could be violent when he got mad, but I’d never seen him like this. This had me shook.

  His grip tightened. “You think you’re tough. But what you don’t know is that I’ve been watching you. And I could’ve smacked you up a minute ago and taken you out of here! You think you’re so big and bad but you’re only what I allow you to be. And if I were you I’d be scared, because if you keep pissing me off I’ma check you!”

  “Get off of me, Ameen!” I tussled with him to get away.

  “Is everything okay in here?” an elderly voice said from behind us.

  “No!” I screamed.

  “You’re right it’s not okay,” Ameen said, backing out of the stall as the old woman ran up to him and hit him with her cane. He snatched her cane and threw it on the floor. “Don’t let me catch you, Zsa.” He pointed. “Or it’s gon’ be a problem.”

  The door slammed behind him as he left. I looked at the old woman who was holding onto the sink. “I’m sorry, ma’am.” I handed her her cane. “I’m really sorry.”

  “I sure hope you are not courting him.” She waved her finger as she regained her balance. “Because he is nothing but trouble. Believe me, honey, let sleeping dogs lie.”

  I was so embarrassed and shaken that I didn’t respond. Instead I walked swiftly out of the bathroom and into the theater. I walked over to where my friends were seated and said, “I’m leaving.” I looked at Courtney. “You rollin’, ’cause I’m gone.”

  “What?” he said, stuffing a Jujube in his mouth. “You see all this stuff I just bought? Heck, no, I ain’t leavin’, and what is the matter with you? You need a Midol? I got some in my bag.”

  I hoped they couldn’t see how bad my hands were shaking. “I’m serious. Now either you’re staying or you’re going.”

  “Zsa,” Malachi said while looking at my trembling hands. “What happened?”

  “Nothing, I just don’t wanna be here. God!” I looked back at Courtney. “I’m leaving, now either you’re coming or not, but I’m going!” And I walked out of the theater doing my best to keep my knees from buckling.

  Once I was in the parking lot I heard Malachi calling my name. “Zsa-Zsa.” He rushed over to me and cupped my chin. “What happened to you?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Why are you lying?”

  “I’m not.”

  “I can look at you and tell you’re scared.” He turned his head and looked around the parking lot. “Did somebody run up on you?”

  “Nothing happened!” My voice trembled. “I’m just ready to go home.”

  “You’re lying.” He looked me dead in the eyes. “Tell me the truth.”

  “Didn’t I say nothing?” I pushed his hands from my face.

  “Zsa.” Malachi sighed as if he were exhausted. “I’m getting real, real tired of chasing you.”

  “Then stop.”

  “I can’t. Not when you always have that same look in your eyes that you had when we were kids and you were scared. I feel like you need me.”

  “I needed you when I was twelve but you packed up and bounced. I’m cool now, I got this, okay?”

  Malachi stared at me for a moment and then he said, “So, that’s what this is all about? The drama, the attitude, and the treating me like I robbed you for some candy is all because I moved…five years ago…on a Friday…after you probably ate some Chinese food—”

  “And the wall jumped.” I felt tears coming to my eyes. “And jumped, and jumped, and I went upstairs because I thought you were Superman. But you weren’t there. And I cried in the hallway. Begging you to come and take me with you, but you didn’t.” I sniffed. “And it’s cool. Now I have to go.”

  “Zsa-Zsa, my baby. I was a kid then.”

  “You could’ve told me you were moving.”

  “I didn’t know how to.”

  “And that’s cool too. Just let me leave.”

  “Nah, because something else is haunting you. What is it?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Does it have something to do with Ameen?”

  “Not.”

  “Yes, it does. Now, tell me the truth.” He placed his arms around me and pressed his forehead against mine. “I can make it go away,” he whispered, “if you would just be honest with me.” He kissed me on the lips. “I can make it disappear.”

  I looked into Malachi’s eyes and wondered, were his promises true, could he really make the boogie man disappear? But then I wondered if Ameen was really the boogie man. Was he really that bad or was he hurt…and angry…and maybe…just maybe I’d pushed him away? Certainly I hadn’t been the best girlfriend, especially since I’d been distracted by Malachi and my feelings for him. But then again…maybe not…. I wasn’t sure. The only thing I was sure of was that all of my troubles were melting in Malachi’s embrace.

  “I won’t let anything hurt you,” Malachi whispered against my lips, “and I promise you I won’t leave again. I’ma grown man now.” We started to kiss.

  “Two snaps up and a fruit loop, excuse you,” Courtney shouted as he stomped over to us. “Break it up, ’cause I know you didn’t call me out of the theater where I could’ve gotten my Jujubes on in peace to come outside and cupcake with li’l daddy. Oh, hell, no.” Courtney looked at the ring on his index finger that was also a watch. “Since I can’t see my movie in peace, then you won’t be kissing li’l tender over here. We got about forty minutes before Tiny and Toya comes on, and if you interfere with that it’s gon’ be a sho’nough situation. Now come on.”

  “Later.” Malachi gave me a small peck on the lips.

  “Later,” I said as Courtney and I got into my car. As I watched Malachi walk back inside the theater, I could see Ameen leaning against the side of the building, smoking a cigarette.

  8

  When I feel what I feel, sometimes it’s hard to tell you so…

  —AALIYAH, “AT YOUR BEST”

  It was a record-breaking seventy degrees outside, which made the classroom in November hot as hell, and me being aggravated and frustrated with my life didn’t help any. Everybody and their mama’s mama were complaining and wanted to break out. It may have been late fall, but that was no excuse for the project heat that the school officials were killing us with.

  “Attention, all juniors,” the principal announced over the loudspeaker, interrupting my English teacher’s lecture about Shakespeare, “please report to the gymnasium for last period. Again, all juniors report to the gymnasium for the last period.” Soon after he finished, the bell rang and all I could hear was spontaneous chatter and binders slamming shut.


  “Wassup with that?” I asked Asha and Courtney as we threw our backpacks over one shoulder.

  “I don’t know.” Asha sucked her teeth. “But I was supposed to meet my baby, Samaad, and sneak me a kiss in the hallway.”

  “Oh, hell, no.” Courtney snapped his fingers. “I am not going through the agony of hearing this again.” He looked at me. “You can listen to it if you want to, but I’ve had enough of li’l Nicky Cannon and Mariah.”

  “I agree.” I laughed.

  “Haters.” Asha snickered. “I want to go to the club this weekend,” she said as we walked into the gym, which had been redecorated to look like a day care: filled with small portable cribs, baby bags, bottles, diapers, and Black, White, Asian, and Latino dolls that looked exactly like human babies.

  “Two snaps up and a fruit loop.” Courtney batted his eyes. “What is this? Why do they have all of these babies stretched out on the table like that? Oh, wait a minute, I’m calling the child protection people, and Asha, call an ambulance.”

  “For what?” She frowned.

  “For me. I’m allergic to babies, I don’t like ’em, and I don’t want none. And if I’m around ’em too long I’ll pass out.”

  “Would you be quiet?” I said as we took a seat. “They aren’t real babies. They’re Reborns and they’re very popular.”

  “What?” Courtney’s eyes bugged out. “Re-who? Reincarnated babies? Where they get them from? Oh, now, this is a problem.”

  “They are dolls, fool,” I said to Courtney. “Calm down.”

  “I’m not gon’ be too many more fools,” he snapped at me.

  “Are those real babies?” China, a girl from my homeroom class, asked Courtney.

  “You lost yo’ rabbit-behind mind?” Courtney snapped at China. “Anybody with half a brain knows that those are Reused babies. They’re very popular. Matter a fact they are probably made in the country you’re named after, China.”

  “What?” China frowned. “China is not a country, it’s a cup,” and she stormed away.

  As Courtney stood frozen, the gym filled with juniors and everyone was seated by whatever clique they hung with. Samaad winked his eye at Asha, and Malachi walked by and gave me the two-finger peace sign.

  “Everyone, please be seated.” Ms. Parker walked up to the podium and spoke into the mic. “I want to talk about why we are all here.”

  Within a matter of minutes the buzzing subsided and the gym was silent.

  “Listen up,” Ms. Parker continued. “This is National Safe Sex Awareness week, and instead of bringing someone in to give you a lecture we decided to do something different.” She pointed around the room. “We are going to make you all parents for a week.”

  “Oh, no…!” Courtney placed his hand up to his forehead as if he were going to pass out at any moment, and then he fell into my lap.

  “Would you get up?” I said, tight-lipped.

  Courtney opened his eyes. “Are you still on birth control? I think I might need one.”

  “Sit up.” I pushed him slightly and he sat up.

  “I feel so weak,” he said.

  “Are you done, Mr. Price?” Ms. Parker said while looking at Courtney. “Can I continue on now?”

  “Yes,” Courtney said faintly, “go on. Just know that I object. I don’t like kids. My eight-year-old brother is enough punishment to last me a lifetime. Believe me, I get the point.”

  “In any event,” Ms. Parker carried on, “as we know, teen pregnancy is on the rise, and the teachers, school officials, and the PTA would like to do all that we can to get you all to take a different route. So, we’ve decided to pair you off, as many of you as we can, and those who we can’t pair off will have the daunting task of being single parents. Those who are single parents will only have to participate in the project for two and a half days. The rest will have five days, and you will have to work out a conducive schedule. A diary is required. You must visit one another and treat this baby as if it is a real baby.”

  “I object.” Courtney stood up. “Somebody could’ve warned me and I would’ve stayed home.” He started coughing. “Can’t you see I’m sick?”

  I was beyond embarrassed. “Shut up,” I mumbled.

  “Mr. Price,” Ms. Parker said, “we did not tell you because more times than not teen pregnancy is not planned and it happens just like this, on a whim, unexpected, and the timing is off. So you’ve learned your first lesson in Parenting 101: expect the unexpected.” She returned her attention back to the other students. “You all will have to name your child, and when you turn in your diary, you must have a birth certificate. Are there any questions?”

  The room was silent.

  “Seeing none, I will call out the couples.” Ms. Parker called out a zillion different names, but the only ones that caught my attention were “Samaad Davis and Asha Harris. Malachi Askew and Zsa-Zsa Fields.”

  My heart dropped. I hoped like heck I wasn’t cheesin’ too hard. For a moment I felt like I was twelve again, so when I spotted Malachi looking at me I rolled my eyes.

  “Staci Jones,” Ms. Parker carried on, “and Courtney Price.”

  “Oh, hell, no.” Courtney stood up and said, “Objection, Your Honor, did anyone look at me before they made that decision?”

  “Okay,” Ms. Parker said, “Staci, you go with Farad Johnson and Mr. Price will be a single parent.”

  We all laughed at Courtney, who was obviously beyond pissed. “This is some bull.” Courtney walked over to the teacher, who was giving out the babies. “Straight-up bull.”

  “Here you go, Mr. Price,” Ms. Parker said, handing him a baby and a baby bag. “Enjoy.”

  “Hold up,” Courtney said, “why is li’l Tink-Tink”—he pointed to the doll in his hand—“Chinese?”

  I shook my head. I loved Courtney like a brother, but I absolutely couldn’t take his drama king antics anymore. I’d had enough.

  “You better not have my baby around some other dude,” Malachi whispered in my ear as he pressed his chest up against my back and kissed me slyly on my neck.

  “As long as you pay child support, you don’t have to worry about me.” I laughed as Ms. Parker handed us our baby. “Oh, Zsa,” Malachi said, “it’s a boy.”

  For a moment I thought I was giggling too much but I couldn’t help it. The butterflies that filled my stomach whenever Malachi was around made me feel silly on the inside. “What’s his name?” I asked Malachi, knowing I already had his name picked out.

  “What else?” Malachi said. “Malachi the second.”

  “Hollah.” I twisted my neck, allowing the silliness in me to take over. “And you know this. You wanna hold him?” I said, placing the baby bag on my shoulder.

  “Yeah, why not?” Malachi said, with confidence. “I’ll hold him.” And then he proceeded to stuff the baby in his backpack.

  “Malachi,” I said, slapping him across the arm, “you wanna take the doll from your bag, dang.”

  “Oh, my fault,” Malachi said as the bell rang.

  I couldn’t believe I was laughing so much. “Why would you do that?” I asked.

  “It’s you,” he said, draping his arm around my shoulder, as I held the baby to my chest. “You make me nervous.”

  Once I reached my locker, I looked at Malachi and smiled. “You make me nervous too.” Wait a minute, did I just admit that?

  “I do,” he said as he pressed his lips against mine, and as soon as we started to kiss this doll baby started crying and screaming. Trust me, that scared the heck out of me, and when I looked at Malachi I realized I wasn’t the only one frightened.

  Before I could say anything Courtney was storming down the hall. “I’m breaking out into hives already,” he said. “Nobody told me this thing was gon’ cry. Hush, li’l Tink-Tink.” He patted the doll on the back and looked at me. “Let’s go. I’ve had a hard day today and I have got to get home.”

  I looked at Malachi, and he said to me, “I’ll meet you at your house.”

 
; “And bring me some tea when you get there,” Courtney said.

  “Excuse you?” Malachi responded.

  “Oh, you’re talking to Zsa-Zsa. For a moment I thought you were talking to me.”

  “You talk too much,” I said to Courtney, and then I turned to Malachi. “I’ll see you then.” I smiled, feeling for the first time in a long while what it meant to be seventeen.

  Once I arrived home Malachi was waiting for me. He was leaning against his truck. I swear he was fine. The only problem was allowing myself to chill and be free around him without thinking about Ameen.

  “Just so you know and won’t be caught off guard, my sixty-two-year-old cousin and his wife are living with us now, and I think they’re senile.”

  “Don’t you worry about what we are,” Cousin Shake said, snatching the front door open with his security guard uniform on, his flashlight in one hand and his blessing oil in the other. “You just better have a pencil in that book bag.” Cousin Shake looked Malachi up and down. “I’m Officer You-Better-Have-That-Damn-Homework and this is my assistant, M.C. Cock Blocker.” He pointed to Ms. Minnie. “Who are you?”

  “Malachi.”

  “Who?” Cousin Shake scrunched his eyebrows. “Mala-chee?”

  “No, Mal-la-kai,” I corrected Cousin Shake.

  “What? Mallory?” Cousin Shake frowned in disgust. “What kinda name is Mallory for a boy? Anywho, before you come in any further, anybody in here under eighteen that walks through the door with a book bag is subject to be searched.”

  “Hey, Zsa.” My mother walked in the door behind me. “Is this”—she looked at Malachi—“who I think it is?”

  Malachi turned around. “How are you, Mrs. Fields?”

  “Look at you,” my mother said, “as handsome as you wanna be.”

  “Hold it!” Cousin Shake said. “Don’t nobody move.” He walked over to me. “Is that…a baby? Oh, hell, no….” He placed his hand over his heart. “Oh, hell, to the no-no-no, is that a ba…a ba…a baby?” he stuttered.