Teenage Love Affair Page 4

  “I’m a little sick of your fresh mouth.”

  “You wake me up at two AM. What did you think we were going to talk about, the weather?”

  “You know what? It’s to the point where I just don’t know what to do with you. Ever since your father died you just act as if I’m the enemy.”

  I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. I had bigger fish to fry than this: like losing my boyfriend. “Please don’t act like the victim.” I shook my head. “That’s what you always did; you always acted like the victim when you were always the one to start it. So just go in your room so I can go back to sleep.”

  Apparently she didn’t hear anything I just said because now she was screaming. “You don’t tell me what to do! And you don’t talk to me like that, I’m the mother around here!”

  “Then act like it. I do everything and what do you do?! Huh? Nothing but work and ignore the hell out of us as if you are on the countdown for us to turn eighteen. So don’t come up in here because I didn’t wash the dishes. Acting as if you are Justine Simmons, mom of the year.”

  “What are you guys yelling about?” Hadiah came to my door, wiping her eyes.

  “Nothing,” my mother said. “Go back to bed.”

  Hadiah stood there.

  “I said go back to bed!” my mother said, enraged.

  Hadiah looked at me, and I said, “It’s okay, Hadiah, go back to bed.”

  “You sure?” she asked with a worried look in her eyes.

  “Yes.” I nodded. “I’m sure. I got this.”

  My mother’s mouth hung open, and I could tell she was a mix between being extremely pissed and her feelings being hurt. I grabbed my comforter and pillow from the floor, pointed to the door, and said, “That’s called stay home more.” Not that I wanted her around, but Hadiah needed her.

  “I will not have you disrespecting me,” my mother said. “I swear ever since your father died everything around here is turned upside down!”

  “Oh, now you wanna blame daddy? Here you go again being the victim.”

  “I was a victim! Your father beat the hell out of me!”

  “Well, now he’s dead so you don’t have to put up with him! All you did was call the cops on him anyway!”

  “We had problems, and he had no right to put his hands on me!”

  “Then you should’ve shut your mouth and kept quiet. Then he wouldn’t have been stressed behind you, got cancer, and died. You couldn’t even wait for the ink to dry on his insurance papers before you ran and bought this house. And you only bought it so that there would be no memories of him here! You ain’t slick, I know your tricks and you don’t have to hold your breath because when I’m eighteen I’m out of here! Now cut my light off and you’re dismissed!”

  WHACK!!!! Have you ever seen shooting stars in the middle of your room? I could’ve sworn that my mother’s backhand across my face sent me to the edge of the Big Dipper, but I’m not sure. All I knew is that my ear was ringing and the left side of my face was burning. The same side that Ameen had left a bruise on.

  “Let me tell you something!” My mother walked up so close to me that I thought she was going to push me through the wall. “You don’t know anything about what me and your father have gone through. You don’t know how many nights I cried and begged and pleaded for him to change, for me to change, for us to change! You think I like what we went through?! But you know what, I don’t have to explain anything to you, you’re a child. You will get it together, come hell or high water you will learn to respect me.”

  I started to repeat the same things back to her, but I didn’t. I simply turned over toward the wall and within the next few minutes I heard my door slam. The tears that had been haunting me all night had returned and were now sliding down my cheeks. I thought about Ameen and wished for a moment that I could share with him the argument I had just had with my mother. So I picked up the phone to call him, only to be greeted by his voice mail…again.

  Don’t look now, but my life was hell.

  “Zsa-Zsa.” Hadiah knocked on my door and simultaneously tipped into my room.

  “Wassup?” I wiped the crust from my eyes and looked at the clock: six AM. Time to get up and get ready for school. I grabbed my cell phone but there were no missed calls, which meant that Ameen didn’t think about me all night. “Yeah, Hadiah, what is it?”

  “Man down.” She placed her hands on her hips. “It’s about to be a man down situation.”

  Life according to my sister was always a man down situation. So instead of responding I got out of bed and walked over to my closet to pick out my clothes for today. For a moment the Gucci boots Ameen bought me and took back ran across my mind. “I want you to wear that soft pink Apple Bottoms sweat suit,” I said to Hadiah. “The one I bought you and those white and pink air force ones. I’m wearing my True Religion skinny leg jeans and pink tee with my pearl accessories and Prada heels.”

  “Did you hear me?” Hadiah placed her hands on her hips. “I said Mommy is shuttin’ the world down. She’s on the phone with Aunty Grier right now crying and complaining about us.”

  “What? Complaining?” Now she had my attention.

  “Yeah.” She twisted her neck. “Said something about you being out of control and me being too grown. Can you imagine?” Her eyes bugged out. “Me being too grown? Hmph, she got me messed up.”

  “Are you sure she’s on the phone with Aunty Grier, in Georgia?”

  “Listen at this.” She handed me the cordless phone she had in her hand. I pushed the talk button and my mother was complaining so much she didn’t even notice we were on the line.

  Hadiah and I placed the phone in between our ears and listened. “I just need some help,” my mother cried. “I can’t lose my girls. Derrick is already gone. He’s in the army and he never comes back home. I just don’t know what to do.”

  “Stop crying, Jazmyn,” Aunty Grier said. “I know how you feel. When Tre left home I didn’t know what I would do, but I made it and you can, too. You want to come down to Atlanta and move in with me, Noah, Man-Man, Cousin Shake, and his wife? We would love to have you. The girls are in school and they come home every weekend. This house is huge and there is more than enough room.”

  “She better not say we’re moving to Georgia,” I mouthed to Hadiah.

  “I will die if she does,” Hadiah whispered back.

  “You know I can’t do that.” My mother sniffed.

  Thank you.

  “Okay, well, the only other thing I can think of is Cousin Shake and Ms. Minnie coming up there. I know they’ll be happy to help out.”

  Cousin Shake, oh, hell, no.

  “You really think they won’t mind?” my mother asked.

  Why is she entertaining this?

  “I know they won’t. You know how he was when we were little.”

  My mother laughed. “Don’t remind me.”

  “Well, he hasn’t changed much, except now he has a new wife and unlike when we were young he isn’t stuck in the seventies, it’s now the eighties…. Oh, and the hearse still works.”

  The hearse?

  I couldn’t take it anymore so I clicked us off the line. Hadiah looked at me. “Don’t you have enough money for us to bounce and have our own place?”

  I shook my head no.

  “I can’t believe this,” she cried. “I looked up to you and you’re broke.”

  “We’ll survive, Hadiah.”

  “No, we won’t. Man down.” She wiped her eyes. “Man the hell down.”

  All I could think to say was, “Don’t cuss. Something will work out, but I can’t allow you to cuss.”

  “Cussin’ is the least of our problems.” And she walked out my room.

  I sat down on the edge of my bed and placed my head in my hands.

  God must hate me.

  3

  If this isn’t love, tell me what it is…

  —JENNIFER HUDSON, “IF THIS ISN’T LOVE”

  I called Ameen a thousand times befo
re I left for school that morning, and not once did he answer. Of course I was pissed, and since I had no one to take my anger out on, I barked at Asha and Courtney. “For once,” I snapped as they filed in my car on our way to school, “can you two be on time?” I looked up at Courtney, who had a hot-pink boa wrapped around his neck with the ends running down his white ruffle shirt. His red patent leather pants were Jonas Brothers tight, and all I could do was shake my head. He looked like a big ball of red grease. “And don’t slam my door!” I said as Courtney climbed in the backseat and Asha, who wore Aeropostale jeans, a fitted purple tee, and matching accessories, sat in the front.

  “Oh, hell, nawl.” Courtney threw the ends of his boa to the back of his shoulders. “Not this morning. Trust me; you don’t want it over here.” He wagged his finger. “My mother told me off because I didn’t clean my room. My daddy caught an attitude because he said I was holding my wrist limp for too long, as if he hasn’t gotten the point yet. And my dog shitted on my floor, so don’t”—he popped his lips—“even go there.”

  “Whatever,” I said as I pulled off and we headed down the street.

  Asha cut her eyes at me and proceeded to slide in a CD Courtney handed her, and within an instant Aretha Franklin’s “Natural Woman” filled the car. If it wasn’t for the truck behind me I would’ve come to a screeching halt. “What is this?!” I screamed as I turned off the CD.

  “What is your problem?” Asha asked.

  “Look, maybe you didn’t hear me the first time,” Courtney said, “but today ain’t the day. I’m PMSing like crazy and I don’t have time for your foolishness. Now if you are mad at Ameen we can discuss this. Otherwise cut my damn CD back on, because if I don’t hear me some Aretha this morning it’s gon’ be a situation.”

  “Know what,” I said, turning the CD back on, “I’m not gon’ even argue with you this morning.”

  “Thank you for the consideration,” Courtney said as the music came through the speakers and he laid his head back against the back headrest. “You don’t ever mess with a black man and his music,” he said as he closed his eyes.

  After a few minutes of driving to school, Asha popped the gum she was chewing and said, “You may as well just tell us what happened, otherwise you gon’ be buggin’ all day.”

  “I don’t feel like talking about it.” I paused and then quickly decided that I needed somebody to confide in. “Me and Ameen had an argument yesterday,” I confessed.

  “Why?” Courtney asked.

  “Because…remember Malachi from elementary school?”

  “Yeah,” Asha said.

  “Well, he moved back here to Jersey, and when me and Ameen were together yesterday I saw Malachi. Ameen got mad because I hugged Malachi and said that I was showing off. He left me in the middle of the street, the car was running, I swear I was soooooo humiliated.” I intentionally left out being mushed against the window.

  “Have you talked to him since then?” Asha asked.

  “No,” I said somberly. “I called him but he won’t call me back. And you know…like I’m just so tired of the changes.”

  “You said once before that you were thinking about taking a break. Why don’t you take a break now?”

  I could’ve slapped Asha; I hated it when she threw things up in my face. “’Cause I wanna take a break when I wanna take a break, which is not now. Ameen is a good guy—”

  “Who left you in the middle of the street—”

  “He just has a jealous streak.”

  “You always have an excuse for him.”

  “I don’t have to make up excuses for him. And I don’t have to argue with you over my man.”

  “I didn’t know it was an argument,” Asha snapped. “All I’m saying is that if he has more jealous fits than anything else, then something is not right.”

  I sucked my teeth. “When you get a steady man you give me advice.”

  “And when you get a man,” she snapped, “you let me know.”

  “Can you two retreat to your corners?” Courtney tapped his finger on the back window as I pulled into the school’s parking lot. “And look at Jesus and His disciple.”

  Asha and I turned and looked out the passenger side window at two dudes parking their motorcycles next to us. When they took their helmets off, I realized that one of them was Malachi. He had on a pair of black Tims, slightly baggy True Religion jeans, a white tee with a skull in the center, and a black leather jacket. He held his helmet in his hand, leaned against his bike, and stared at me.

  “Why are you blushing?” Asha tapped me on the shoulder.

  “Please, don’t even play me like that.” I rolled my eyes, “I am not blushing, that’s only Malachi.”

  “Daaaaannnng,” Courtney said, “two snaps up and a fruit loop…would you look at li’l daddy here.”

  “And who is that other hottie?” Asha asked.

  “I don’t know.” I hunched my shoulders, looking at the guy standing beside Malachi. I had to admit even in the midst of being pissed that the guy was a cutie: deep chocolate skin, spinning waves, almond-shaped eyes, and a goatee. “He is cute, though.”

  “I called him first,” Asha said. “Now introduce me.”

  “Didn’t I just say I didn’t know him?”

  “Go find out who he is from Malachi,” she said to me, and then turned to Courtney. “How does my breath smell?” She blew air into his face.

  “Oh, my.” He placed his hand over his nose and fell back against the seat. “I’ve been shot with dog poo.”

  Asha playfully punched Courtney on the arm. “This is serious and you play too much.”

  Courtney laughed. “It smells ai’ight, but your lips need a li’l gloss.” Courtney handed her his clear MAC gloss. “And how do I look, I look okay?” he asked.

  “And who gon’ be checking you out?” I had to ask.

  “I just want to be in the atmosphere.” Courtney took his pocket mirror from his pageboy bag, flipped it open, and batted his lashes at his reflection.

  “You know what,” I said, “I’m cold on this.” I got out the car and I could hear Asha whispering, “Introduce me.” I closed the door behind me, walked past Malachi and his mysterious friend, without speaking. Stank, I know, but so what? I was pissed and when my love life isn’t right the whole world shuts down.

  Once I walked through the doors the bell rang, and I headed to homeroom class. If only I could have gotten the memory of my fight with Ameen and the aching feeling to have left my stomach I would have been cool.

  By the time the bell rang again, I’d slyly texted Ameen a thousand times but not once did I get a reply. I placed my phone back in my purse, wrote down the homework assignment, and headed to my locker to get the book for my next class.

  I stood at my locker, exchanged books, and when I looked in the mirror that hung inside of my door I saw Malachi’s reflection behind me. Don’t ask me why but I was blushing like crazy.

  “Crime to speak, ma?” He placed his head on my shoulder, pressed his cheek against mine, and looked into the eyes of my reflection.

  “No, speaking is not a crime but stalking is,” I snapped.

  I shook my head. There had to be a law against a man being this fine. I swear this dude was knocking me off my square. I diverted my eyes from his reflection and he stood up straight.

  I did my best not to be nervous as I tapped the ball of my stilettos on the tiled floor, closed my locker door, and turned around to face him. Malachi slid the tip of his index finger through my belt loop, pulled me toward him, and kissed me on my forehead. “Damn, look at you.” He joked. “You sweatin’ already.”

  “Whatever.” I waved my hand while praying that he couldn’t hear my heart thundering in my chest. “I’m starting to get concerned, why are you following me?”

  Malachi laughed. “I go to school here.”

  Why the heck am I nervous? “Isn’t it a little late?” I rolled my eyes. “The first day was last week.”

  “What’s w
ith you and the attitude? And what’s up with eye action—chill with all that. That ain’t even for you.”

  He’s right, I am being a li’l extra…but still.

  He stroked my cheek. “Or are you mad because I made you wait so long. My apologies for holding up our life together, but I’m back now.”

  Was it me or was this cat bold? Didn’t he have a girl? Or better yet, didn’t I have a man?

  “Malachi!” A loud male voice called him from down the hall, and immediately I took a step back. Instead of letting my belt loop go, Malachi held on to it.

  “Yo.” His friend nodded his head at me as if to say hello, then he said to Malachi, “You know li’l ma over there?” He pointed.

  Instinctively I turned around and noticed that he was pointing to Asha. “That’s my homegirl.” I butted into their conversation.

  “Yo, hook that up,” he said to me, and then he looked back at Malachi. “Dawg, you see li’l shortie-rock? She pretty as hell, and man, she thick like a mug.”

  “And your name is?” I asked.

  “This is my cousin, Samaad,” Malachi said. “And Samaad, this is Zsa-Zsa.”

  Samaad smiled. “Oh, you’re Zsa-Zsa? Heard a lot about you. Now, be a good in-law and hook that up.”

  In-law? That threw me for a loop. I stared at Malachi, and he fingered the ring dangling from the gold chain around my neck. “I see you missed me.”

  I took a step back. This was too much. I held my index finger up and told Samaad, “Give me a minute.” I walked over to Asha, who was talking to Courtney. “My fault,” I said to them. “I know I was buggin’ earlier. I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, you were buggin’,” Courtney said.

  “Exactly.” Asha twisted her lips, and I could tell she was pissed.

  “Awwl, Diva.” I hugged her. “Don’t be mad, you know I love you and you’re my best friend.”

  “Whatever.” She laughed. “Did you do the hook-up?”

  “I didn’t have to. He walked over there to Malachi already sweatin’ you.”

  “Daaaang,” Courtney said, “that’s what I’m talkin’ about. What did he say?”