Being Good Enough

Chapter 8

"You can just change right here," Chris said. I turned around to give him an annoyed face. "Bye Chris," I said laughing and walking out.

-
The shorts and shirt were baggy but cozy at the same time. When I came back to the room, Chris was sprawled on the bed, and as I approached the bed, he moved over to make space for me. He and I sat upright on his king-sized bed with our shoulders rubbing and our legs intertwined. It was a good call for me to put on lotion and perfume considering how close we were to each other.

"So. . . ." I trailed off.

"Tell me about yourself," Chris stated.

I shrugged my shoulders in response. "Um, nothing really to tell."

"You're favorite color, food, movie? Shit like that."

"Um, well I like blue, all food is my favorite, and I love Despicable Me, I know its for like 4-year olds but the minions are cute so don't judge me."

"You know you start every sentence with 'um'," Chris laughed.

I put my slightly blushing head down. For some reason, I only did that around Chris. It was embarrassing and made me sound ridiculous but I can't help but always say "um."

"Stop making fun of me," I giggled lightly.

"Nah, its cute, I like it."

That comment only made me blush harder, getting complimented so much was not something I was used to. I'm not really used to the attention being on me.

"So, now its your turn, tell me about your life," I was genuinely curious and not just asking to be polite.

"I play basketball, and draw and sing."

"Wow, really? I never imagined you as an artsy type of guy."

Chris shrugged his shoulders, "Do you want to see some?"

"Yeah, of course!"

Chris reached under his right pillow to grab a very large drawing pad. The designs he showed me were very intricate. He definitely was a talented artist.

"I like spray painting better. In the basement, all the walls are full. I would show you but I'm too lazy to go down there."

"You ain't like 'em?" Chris asked nervously after I didn't say anything.

"No, I do like them! You're an amazing artist, its just these are so..dark," I said.

The drawings including many things that looked like monsters. People usually use art as a way to express themselves so this seemed troubling and concerning. Maybe I'm looking to deep into it, but it made me wonder more about Chris's home life. He seemed to be a very happy person.

Chris just shrugged his shoulders once again.

I turned to the side so I could be looking at him. "Is everything okay?"

Chris nodded his head yes as a reply but I wasn't convinced.

"Are you sure? Chris you can tell me, I'll keep it between us, promise."

"My dad used to beat my mom when I was younger," as Chris spoke my eyes widened in disbelief, "It wasn't just like a slap, she would get completely busted up. I could've done something but I never did! I wanted to help her so bad but . .fuck, I was so scared. I used to piss my bed 'till I was like 8 and I still have nightmares. Mama and Lytrell never talk about it. And I don't want to say nothing to Clinton about it, so I just draw. . . "

A tear fell down Chris's left cheek, he wiped it away with quickness but another came down.

My arms wrapped around Chris, tightly. He placed his head in the crook of my neck, as more tears escaped his eyes and his breath shallowed. I'd never been in a situation like this so I'm not sure what kind of advice to give. I sat silently but held Chris firmly, just to let him know that I'd be here for him.

After a few minutes, Chris's tears dried and his breathing stabilized. He lifted his head, and I saw his sad, slightly red eyes full of anguish.

"Chris, it wasn't your fault," I stated.

"Yeah it wa-"

"No, it wasn't. You were a little boy put in a dangerous position. Don't ever blame yourself for that. And please try to open up to your mom and tell her what you told me. Chances are, she feels the same way. Also, If your ever upset, or can't sleep, or have a nightmare, come talk to me, okay? I'm here for you."

Chris lightly smiled at me before leaning in to give me a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, baby."

I smiled back at him. "Chris are you tired? 'cause I am."

"I haven't got a good sleep in a long ass time."

Chris laid down under the thick, soft, red blanket. He opened his arms as an invitation. I gladly laid on his muscular yet comfy chest. We both dozed off within minutes in the Sweethearts Cradle position.

-

I yawned and stretched my arms as I awoke from. I felt so rejuvenated! The bed was warm and smelled so good, just like Chris- Wait, where is Chris anyway? I popped out of the bed quickly. When we fell asleep it was very bright outside, but now it was completely dark. I scrambled for my phone. 6:21. 7 missed phone calls from Grandma. Oh my god, I'm gonna get killed!

I jumped out of bed causing the phone to fall on the floor. A few seconds later, Chris ran into the room. "You good? What was that?"

"Myphonefell. OhmygodChris, I'msolateIneedtogohomeNOW!" I spoke so fast my words all came together.

I picked the phone up to call my Grandma who picked up within the first 2 seconds it rang.

"Hi, Grandma! I'll be there soon, I'm so sorry for not answering!" I said. She seemed more relieved than angry.

After the phone call, I picked up my Vans shoes and started putting them on.

"Chris, can I wear your clothes home? I'll wash and them bring them back."

"Sure, no problem. Do you want me to walk you?"

"Yeah, lets go."

-

"Are you feeling better?" I asked Chris, referring to him crying, earlier.

"I am. Thanks for caring." He wrapped his large arm around my shoulder and brought me close to him. His body warmth made me feel better, outside in the frigid air.

"Aw don't thank me, I just want to make sure you're okay. If you need anything, tell me. I'm serious, Chris."

"Well, I kinda need something now," Chris spoke with nervousness in his voice.

"What is it?"

We had made it to my apartment. Chris took his arm off my shoulder and stood in front of me.

"Khadijah, you can't tell nobody 'bout us."

I was somewhat taken aback. "Well, I actually wasn't gonna tell anyone anyway. But i'm wondering why?"

Chris sighed. "So much fucking drama. If Karrueche and 'em know you're talking to me, they won't stop fucking with you. I just don't want nothing to happen."

Well, his explanation made more sense than I thought it would. And I knew he was right. I didn't fit in with the populars. If they somehow found out about me and Chris, the teasing would never stop. I know that they'd mostly say that he can do better.

"Um, yeah, I don't have a problem with that."

Chris gave me that wonderful smile of his. He wrapped his arms around my waist, squeezing gently. "You're the best, baby. Goodnight."

Our lips pressed together, giving me butterflies in my stomach. We pulled apart but before he could detach his body from mine, I pecked his lips one time.

"Goodnight Chris," I said, walking into the building.