The Rejects of Richmond University | editing

31. The One In The Dark Pt. 1

❝Each friend represents a world in us,
a world possibly not born until they arrive,
and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.❞

-Anais Nin

✋Salma✋

Not on many mornings, but on some, I went for a jog around my neighborhood. For my safety, I should clock those walks around usual human activity hour, but those hours were no fun. I lived in a hot state, one that wasn't forgiving when it shifted towards warmer seasons. Because of where I lived, I settled on taking my runs early in the day before the sun came out at four in the morning.

I liked going out in the mornings before most people were up for their day. It gave me peaceful solitude in the streets, making it feel like I was the only one on earth. I got to think in times like these, listening to the latest release I saved on my phone, and sweat out my stress with each distance I made.

The song for today was a tune I added only because of its Megan thee Stallion feature and the issue I was mulling over was, and probably my only problem, Jaxon. More specify, the dislike he had for me and how relentless he was in showing it. Fast-forwarding the main act on the song and getting to where I wanted, I started to do stretches on the front lawn.

I had brainstormed for weeks, thinking of what I could do get in his good graces. He wasn't on the same level of hate when we first moved in together. This was measured by how hard he slammed his door. He didn't slam it as much lately and actually made some sort of audible sound when I greeted him rather than saying "fuck off."

So, in a way, there was some progress.

But not being hated wasn't enough. I didn't want to feel unwanted in my own home, and that was all I felt whenever he looked at me. I was a nuance in his space. I was nothing more than that. I didn't think we could ever be best friends, but I wanted us to be at a better place than we were now. We were roommates, for one. We would see each other every day and night for a year or however long it took for him to stay on his own. Things would get more unbearable if I kept it left unsaid and allowed this issue to exist any longer.

Finishing up my stretching, I grabbed my water bottle and headed out to the sidewalk. I kicked my knees high a few times before sprinting off. My hair was up in a ponytail, and as I ran, my long braids swiping across my bare shoulder blades. I was dressed in only a sports bra and athletic shorts.

After turning the corner, I picked up my pace. I peeked to the left, seeing the water fountain in the middle of a driveway. The sound of the fountain was muted out by my music, instead hearing the intro beat of a hip-hop song playing over the noise of the pitter pater of water.

I wasn't sure who owned in the house. I had seen a man exit out of house before, but no one else. With three cars parked around the water fountain, you would expect more people living there. But I didn't see anyone ever waltz out the three-story brick house. It was a beautiful home, red bricks going well with the white columns around the porch.

I ran at my fastest pace until I hit the stop sign. Slowing my step, I untwisted the top of my water bottle and took a sip. My run switched to a light power walk as I drank.

There was a misconception, one that I didn't know how true it was, that smokers didn't exercise. Or perhaps the thought was that because I smoked, I didn't enjoy the running. My lungs hated me for my choices, but that didn't mean I skipped out on breaking a sweat. I was going to change, or so I always told myself. Each first of January, I'd stop and promise that I was starting a new chapter. That lasted about a month before I called my plug.

Next year, I would tell myself. Next year for sure.

I wanted to have kids in the future. And from the studies I had read, marijuana interfered with fertility. I wanted to quit a year before I started trying to have a kid so that it was out my system and I no longer was craving a joint. Before then, I had to find someone to have kids with, which I was in no rush to seek, so I knew that there was a lot of time before I would have to trash my grinder and rolling papers.

✋✋✋

I had an idea when I came back from my run. If I was going to accomplish this, and do it successfully, I had to make it look like I wasn't forcing the interaction. I wanted it to feel nature and not contrived. For that to be done, I had to have teammates for this. Later into the day, I went into Ziyan's room and asked him if he was free for the afternoon.

"Is Brenda going to be involved in this? I'd like to know." He asked and I didn't get why he was clenching his jaw, fixated on the spot on the floor. "I don't want to be a part of it if she is."

"Why? What happened?"

"I would much rather be around Delilah than her."

"Whoa, it's that bad."

The last time I checked, Brenda and Ziyan were cool with each other. He didn't have beef with her; but he did with Delilah, however, that was a well-known fact that I was sure the neighbors even knew about. Delilah and Ziyan were the only ones who voiced their disdain for one another, whereas Jaxon and I didn't get in full blown arguments for the whole house to hear. I couldn't say the same about those two. They acted like they were married with children, a mortgage and car notes, the way they were at each other's throats.

"I don't want to talk about it right now, Salma."

"You can't tell me? It's that deep?"

"It's that confusing. I wouldn't know where to start."

"Good thing I've got time."

He sighed, falling backwards on to his bed. Ziyan told me to close the door as he went into telling me the story of what made him stop talking to Brenda. What he shared with me had my jaw on the floor when he got to the end.

"I've never heard of weed doing that to someone," I said. "You're sure she did that?"

"I have ears."

"You could've heard wrong."

"Scott sounds a lot different than my name."

I cringed, making a face and then covering my hand over my mouth. "What did you do after that?"

"Nothing. She ran out and didn't come home until I was already gone. I came back with her car in the garage. She didn't text me since then and neither have I. I've bumped into her a few times down the hall, but I haven't really looked at her."

"Not even look?"

"I just see his face when I look at her."

"Well, that's what she sees when she looks at you. So, that makes two of you." It slipped out before I could stop myself. "Oh, sorry. It's too soon."

I yelled, being slammed by a pillow.

"Man, this isn't funny." He was smirking, despite trying to keep a serious face.

"It...kinda is, though," I said, placing the pillow close to my face, hiding my grin. "Tell me, honestly, did she say his name or moan it? This is important. I have to know on what scale the humiliation was on."

"You know, I regret telling you, Salma." He rolled in his bed, getting under the covers. "I shouldn't have opened my mouth to start with."

I flung the pillow back at him. "It's too late. I know."

"Don't tell anyone–"

"Really?" I interrupted. "You know I wouldn't tell someone about this."

"Thank you." He sighed and shut his eyes. "When should I come downstairs?"

"In an hour." I answered and went out the door, preparing the living room before Jaxon came home from campus.

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