HIS-Story

HIS-Story~10

Exchange by Bryson Tiller.
Sukii Moreno as Shanice in m/m

*
"AJ why aren't you out of bed? It's time to go to church." My mother walked in at six o'clock on the dot for church, like every Sunday.

I rolled around in my twin size bed that was covered in Kobe themed sheets. "Why can't we be like the Browns and leave at eight?" I asked a question that was always in our Sunday morning routine.

I can hear her chuckle, I can even sense her smile that I would always brush away when I was younger, but now I wished I should of appreciated them. "Bear," she called me by my nickname that my grandmother gave to me when I was a baby. They would say I snored like a bear on hibernation every time I got to sleep. "You know the Browns aren't real church goers. Besides," I felt my bed deep and smelt her rose perfume she would always spray on. "Sandy Crafts is going to be there early and all alone."

I groaned and looked at my mother from over my warm covers. "Ma, I thought we wasn't going to mention her." I said, there was obviously embarrassment in my voice from hearing my middle school crush name come from my mother's mouth.

"What?" She giggled before showing her teeth in a wide and teasing smile. "I thought you liked her."

"I do, but-"

"But?"

I sighed and looked towards my dark blue painted wall that was covered in basketball posters. "She has a boyfriend." I mumbled.

"A boyfriend?" I can hear the shock in my mother's voice. "She is twelve years old, what is she doing with a boyfriend? Uh-uh, she is too young."

I chuckled from my mother's ghetto voice. She was of course classy, but when she's joking around, she acts ghetto or more like a hood rat- Her younger self- before she had a child and moved out of south east D.C.

I sit on my elbow to look at the woman in front of me clearly. "Ma, please don't. No one knows but me at the church and she'll find out I told you. She'll think I'm a snitch and won't talk to me again."

"Fine." She said before standing on her feet and showing her tall height of 5'8". My mother was beautiful. I'm not saying that because I'm her son, but because she really is. My mother was a resemblance of a African goddess, with her long black dreads that stopped at her mid back, tall frame, curvy, brown eyes, full pink lips, her skin was brown and to top everything off she had confidence and a kind heart. Malaya is her twin, but instead of dreads, Malaya kept her hair in a curly bush.

"Thanks." I said.

She stared down at me in silence, like she was thinking about something- something deep. "I'm sure she'll realize you're a good guy to be with. But she is not the only girl out there that has a pretty face."

I nod, I didn't have anything to say at the time. Since I was still tired and my brain didn't turn on yet, but I kept the next choice of words in my head.

"Don't give your all to any girl that looks at you with batty eyes. Keep your heart in your hand and choose wisely on who to give it to. The right girl you choose may not be your first, nor second or even tenth- well I hope you don't got to ten..." Both of us chuckled. "But whoever sticks by your side through any situation and also pushes you to do better in your life may be the right one. It depends though."

"But what if she receives my heart, but crushes it?" I know it's odd for a twelve year old to be asking that, but the love I saw in front of my eyes was kinda like that. One person would give there all and the other would crush it or shrug it away. It's not fair.