Street (Urban Fiction)

Chapter Twenty Eight

When he finally made it to me, he pulled me towards him and wrapped his arms around me tightly.

"Before you say anything—" I started only to be cut off by him.

"I'm not gonna say anything. I know that's not what you need," he replied.

He was right. A lecture wasn't what I needed. Often times, the person being lectured is already aware of the points being made. I didn't need to be told what I already knew.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and relaxed in his embrace. "I've been stupid," I admitted.

"Naw, you dealt with things the only way you knew how." I could feel the vibrations in his chest as his words made their way through his body.

"Yeah, the stupid way."

He chuckled. "Life is a tug of war battle. We pull and fall and sometimes our ropes, they...sometimes we get pulled forward and fall, and—"

"Chris," I started with a laugh, pulling away to get a good look at him.

His brown eyes sparkled with amusement, as if he knew what I was going to say.

"What the hell are you trying to say?" I asked.

"Shit, I don't know. I was trying to be deep, but that's not my area. That's more Trey's thing."

A string of giggles eased through my lips. "I see. How's Maria?" I asked with a sigh.

"She's better than I thought she'd be." He rubbed his jaw and sat on the foot of my bed. "Hearing how she was after her pops died, I expected her to break down."

I chuckled bitterly. "Instead it was me." His brows knotted at my words as his lips pressed into a thin line. "How are you?" I asked before he could reply to what I said.

"Tired," he admitted. He didn't have to though, I could see it. The slight puffiness under his eyes, the yawns he kept fighting, the slouch in his posture, I could see it all.

"Busy being superman?" I teased with a smile. He kicked my legs off the bed with a smile of his own. "I'm Batman."

I raised my brows. "Really? 'Cause I think Bruce Wayne had some psychological problems."

"The only psycho thing I've done is become friends with you," he retorted. My hands flew to my mouth as soon as I snorted. "That was cute," he said sarcastically.

My shoulders shook with laughter and tears pricked my eyes. I ran a hand through my hair for a couple of seconds, then stopped abruptly. "Who in the—I came here with an afro," I said to no one in particular.

"Yes, it was quite small too," Chris noted.

"Shut up. It was shrinkage. I don't get it though, momma braids even worse than she cooks. Are nurses allowed to--" I glanced back at Chris and took in how embarrassed he looked. He kept avoiding eye contact and a sheepish smile played on his lips.

"It was you? It was you," I repeated with a gasp. "I—but...you know how to braid?" I reached up again to feel the dookie braids my hair was in.

He bounced his eyes around the room. They seemed to land on everything but me. They finally settled on the ceiling as he shifted his body into a more comfortable position.

"You know me and Trey basically grew up like brothers. His sisters were like my sisters too. His mom was always at work, so when we'd get them ready for school or church, we'd always try to do their hair." He chuckled at the memory. "It took me forever to realize just putting the scrunchie on won't hold the hair. You gotta twist it then put it again," he groaned, "it was a lot of work."