On The Corner Of 32nd Ave

01. In Which A Black Girl Has Potential

     He saw that girl and wanted so badly to go speak to her. I also saw her, way before he did, but I couldn't let him have her. What if she was the one that I worked up the courage to go speak to? It wasn't fair. I started to act out, began saying the nastiest possible things to him, I even took it too far. I brought up his ex.

    "Sabby, do you see that girl?" Carter tapped me on the shoulder and I looked up at him. He was a whopping 6 foot 4 and even at my over average height of 5 '11, I still had to crane my neck to stare at him.

"What girl?" I pretended to be clueless about the brown haired beauty that had just walked into the store. She began skimming the jazz records and I couldn't believe that attraction was real until I saw her start looking through them.

    "Don't act stupid now. I know you saw that girl walk in here." He rolled his eyes and looked up at her without any shame. She stood directly across from us on the other side of where the records sat collecting dust.

    "And if I did? You don't have the balls to go up to her." I whispered to him nonchalantly before walking to another section where my back would be facing the brown haired temptress. I couldn't afford to stare at her right now. I know that looking at her anymore would force me to go over the countless women I've been attracted to but never dared to speak to. Never dared to cross the line of more with.

    "Okay ouch. What the hell is wrong with you. I would like some encouragement from my best friend rather than you shitting on me." He looked at me in the eyes, his brown ones meeting my hazel-green. I searched his eyes so I could find the remorse to apologize but all I could feel was jealousy. He was born a man. He had the okay to go after women, to find comfort in their arms. Some of us could only look, never touch. Never fully experience that delicacy that was women.

    "I'm saying the truth Carter. The last girl you got not only broke your heart because you weren't good enough but I had to bring her to you. It's a known fact that you suck with women. Until you can go after a woman without my help, you'll never be over Leeanne and you'll never have any luck with them either. They'll always take you as a joke." I wanted to punch myself in the throat for the words that had just left my mouth. I stared his shocked face. His vietamese heritage covering every part of his face. I could see his tongue lick over his teeth as he let out a little laugh. He started playing with vinyl records in the box. I averted my eyes towards the deep red walls that coated the record store so beautifully. I looked at the posters and did everything in my power to ignore the tension that sat between us. I was waiting for his words to come through, to break my heart into a billion pieces, wreck our friendship bubble but, he just started to walk away. I stood there watching him, curious. I started to follow him out the door and into the NYC streets. That's when he said those words to me. He had been gentle with my feelings, took them into account before he said what he did. "I am not the reason behind your denial."

His ex Leeanne was a fresh wound that hasn't healed yet and I'm sure it never would. He had been with that girl for four years when he walked into their apartment and saw her with his best friend. I had never seen Carter so broken before. The only other time was when one of his mother's passed away when we were thirteen. He stayed seated in those pews for hours. Even after she was buried and her gravestone was placed. Weeks after he always went back to that same pew. Sometimes, I'd see him close his eyes, he'd talk to God and I'd hear him mumble the words, "Please, keep her safe up there for me." I would join him, close my eyes and imagine her safe. Tucked away under the wings of an angel behind golden gates meant only for the good hearted. She was a wonderful woman and she treated me like I was her own, always.

     I stared at my chunky boots as I walked before looking up. I wasn't walking fast like I usually did, I wasn't able to keep up with the flow of sidewalk traffic. I was stuck staring at every beautiful woman that walked past me. Every hair flip that passed or wavy slick back that sashayed with a purpose caught my eye. Short hair or long. Black, white or in between. Every single woman caught my gaze. I had never felt this strongly to watch the women that flew past me before. I looked at their outfits, confused if I wanted them or the confidence they exuded. I tucked my hands away in my furry cream colored trench coat, pulled my black mom jeans a little higher so the distressed ends hung over my boots a little bit better. Adjusted my over the ear headphones so they sat correctly over my own slick back that took me hours to perfect this morning. Raised my head higher and stomped down the street, ignoring all the women, men, and anybody that didn't fit into the two.

     I had to cross the street when I reached the corner of 8th and 32nd. I looked across, I only saw bodies at first. Then, I saw her. She was, magical. She was a petite tall black girl whose afro was bigger than the space it occupied. Her own style was unmatched. It has the essence of the 90s disguised in 80s apparel. Her rugby shirt opened to reveal her deep collar bones that were adorned with necklaces upon necklaces. Her caki's rode a little bit on the higher side, but revealed her long black socks that were pulled higher than her high top converses. There was not a jacket to be found on her body, and she rocked every minute of it. She didn't look cold. I memorized her high cheekbones, her sharp jaw, the hoops that touched the cheeks I wanted my finger to graze. She brought her hands up to her well shaped eyebrows and I saw her slender fingers. Each held a ring that had some sort of meaning. I could tell she wouldn't wear anything she didn't care for, didn't have some kind of meaning to her.

      She stood on the corner of 32nd ave looking as elegant as ever. It was time for me to cross, cross over and maybe say hello. Say just how beautiful she was, how she caught my eye from across the street but that would never happen. I would lose her in a sea of faces that was New York. Suddenly, the city did in fact feel big. I would never get a second chance to look at her again, see her collar bones or the sharp jaw I had memorized from just one glance. Never hold the hands adorned with glistening rings. I pulled my trench coat a little closer to my body as the wind blew, she looked unphased. She stood outside the cafe, looking in. Finally, two people walked out. Both with dyed hair. One pink the other green. They should've took my attention away from her but, no. This girl had me enraptured in her.

      I huffed again and felt my heart drop. I could never speak to a woman like that. I started walking away from the corner of 32nd Ave and I wished the best for her in my heart. Today wouldn't be the day that I finally spoke to a woman. Wouldn't be the day I got her number, asked her out on a date and smiled as I walked my happy ass home. No, today would be another day of denial. It would be another day filled with fear of accepting myself as a queer afro latina woman. I would forever be stuck in morals instilled in me by my parents who lived in a completely different time. I continued on walking, walked right past the bar I could see my friends sitting at comforting Carter from my harsh stoic words. I just kept walking. Walking away from the real girl that would forever haunt me.