LUCAS P. O. V.
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Monday: 3:30 P. M.
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My muscles flex under the weight of the barbells.
We've been at the gym for thirty minutes, but I still can't seem to get into the groove.
Petrad is behind me, waiting to take the bar as I bring it up.
I finally do, and he takes it and attaches it to the rack.
"Dawg, yuh look like yuh out of it today, man!" he says as I sit up and wipe my chalky hands in the towel.
"Hmmm..." I mutter. "Nuh know wah gwaan wid mi today."
It's true. Normally, me doing a bench press would come like lifting paper, but, today, the weights feel like lead in my arms.
"It nuh have nothing to do with how yuh run out a the place last night?" he asks sounding genuinely concerned.
Even though he gets on my damn nerves sometimes, Petrad is cool. He and Dwayne, a.k.a Nyama, are two of the closest brethrens I keep in my tiny circle.
I don't have time for the bag a wasteman company.
He's referring to when we'd met in the parking lot, last night, after the whole incident with her at Café Noir.
I shake my head, but make him no wiser. I don't want him to feel some type of way, even when I don't even fucking know how I feel. "No man. Nutt'n like that. Just inna a one vibe weh mi a try shake."
"And everything good with you and Jessica?" he adds as good measure.
He's one to ask. He knows that things aren't always good with us. When it goes sour, it goes real fucking sour.
I nod and stand up then walk over to the table to get the jump rope out of the duffle bag I use as my gym bag.
"No, man. Wi good," I tell him. He doesn't need to know that we aren't necessarily on good terms.
After last night, I bet she does, but I know we aren't. At least in my head.
She fucked up. And I'm not yet over it.
Speaking of last night.
Damn.
I can't remember half of it. I just know some serious shit went down.
You remember her though.
I shake my head in an effort to erase the thought.
Now I know what some men mean when they say they're pussy-whipped.
And yuh nuh get none yet? Do better, dawg!
I chuckle at the thought.
Like yuh frighten fi browning. Yuh nuh used to gyal?
Rolling my eyes inwardly, I start to untie the twisted rope.
"Yes, boo. I'll buy it when I'm coming over," Nyama says walking back to us. He'd moved once the phone rang. "OK, babe. Love you too. Bye."
"Hear the man!" Petrad teases him when he hangs up. "'Bout love. Nuh you just a make plan fi sample such nail-tec crotches?"
Nyama laughs and punches him on the shoulder.
In true Jamaican fashion, his nickname suits him.
Never see a Rasta man love nyam pork so yet! And if a did the kind that comes from pigs, it would a bad and nuh so bad...
But that has nothing to do with me. It's none of my business what a man does with his mouth in his spare time.
I study them, but stay silent.
Nah get involved in a nuh suck pussy argument.
"When?" Nyama asks raising a challenging brow.
Petrad laughs harder at his expression. "I'll treat, right Petrad?" Petrad says mimicking Nyama's voice. "Here, you should come..." he continues, holding out the rag in his hand as if handing it to Nyama. "I'm thirsty!"
Nyama hisses his teeth and hits the rag out of his hand. "Suck yuh gyal, dawg!"
"That yuh want do the people them gyal pickney!" he says, laughing still. "'Bout yuh thirsty. Pussy juice can full belly or quench thirst?"
"Dawg, fuck off nuh!" Nyama hisses. He positions behind the punching bag and lands two swift punches. "Suh mi a go do yuh face if yuh nuh stop chat!"
Petrad literally cackles and a few heads turn to look at us.
I chuckle and shield my face.
I don't know what they're talking about. But, I have an idea who.
"A who we a talk 'bout now? Same B deh pon di plaza?" I ask, joining in.
"Same big batty nail-tec. weh have such man weak," Petrad answers. "Fuck if Meemi finds out..."
"Man, you a gyal or wha? Can chat suh?" Nyama says, smiling. He isn't fazed by Petrad's teasing. "Who says mi like the girl dah way deh? Plus, even so, what Meemi don't know can't hurt her."
"That yuh say? 'Member how shi look pon yuh last night at the club when the likkle catty pass and brush pon yuh? Mi see murda through the puss yeye contacts...oh!"
Nyama smiles and shakes his head as if reminiscing.
"Speaking of clubs, guess who mi see last night too, Luke?"
"Who?" I say as I bring the rope over my head and jump.
"Shantae..." he says.
"From graduation, man." he adds when I don't seem to get it.
Shantae?
"Who that again?" I can't figure out who he's talking about.
I know a few Shantaes.
He rolls his eyes. "The same one man. Short, dark, chubby, baby face...." he gestures to aid his description. "She was at my graduation, man. Romario sister...? The girl weh did like yuh off! Dawg..."
I stop skipping.
Short?
Dark?
Fat?
Have baby face?
Romario sister?
Love mi off?
...Who that?
Petrad snaps his fingers as if willing himself to remember a juicy detail. "She did fly out wah day man. Wi see shi post it pon Insta...dawg, mi nuh supposed to a try suh hard fi yuh 'member!" he adds.
A nuh my fault mi nuh know who the rass yah talk!
"Yuh nearly fuck it in a the bathroom when wi go Sandz!"
"Oh she!" I say as realization hits me. "Nuh that yuh fi say long time."
"Look how long, star!" he shouts. "Cho bombo!"
I laugh. It's the first time since yesterday.
"Wha 'bout her?" I ask when I sober up. "Why should I care if you saw her?"
"Look like she still like yuh," he says and smirks. "Nuh stop ask 'bout yuh. She was even asking if you and Jessica a still a thing and shit..."
How shi mean if we're still together. She been liking our pics on Instagram. I distinctly remember her commenting 'couple goals' on our last pic together.
Yow! Yuh see how women devious...
I hiss my teeth and double the rope."How does that become her business?"
I hate nosy people.
Whether Jessica and I are still together, or not, it's none of her fucking business.
Petrad shrugs. "Couldn't ask me. All I know is that she seems super interested."
Good for her...
I'm already taken...and I'm not looking for anyone else right now. Especially not a booty call.
"Good luck to her," I say. "She can stay a East and I'll stay a West. I don't have the time or the desire to fuck around."
Unless it's with...
Easy yourself!
"Plus, we aren't even going to see each other..." I say shrugging. I don't know why I feel the need to justify my arguments.
"Well, you'll be seeing her tonight. 'Cause I invited her."
My head turns to face him so quickly I almost pull a muscle. "Wha?"
Why are these two fools constantly trying to set me up. Especially Petrad. It's almost as if he knows something I don't.
The fuck!
"Yup!" he says popping the p.
"Why?" I hiss.
"Because she wanted to come," he answers calmly. "Plus, it's a club opening, not a private dinner. Literally anyone who has the money and the time can come...the more people come, the more successful the event."
I pass him, using my shoulder to hit his as I do. "Whose event is it?"
In a few hours will be my bar opening. I'm already on edge because of it, now to hear this fuckry.
Cho bloodclaat!
Why am I bothered that she'll be there tonight?
"Stop move suh, dawg!" he shouts and runs a hand through his hair. "Is just a girl. What do you think she's going to do with Jessica there?"
That's the thing, Jessica won't be there.
And it's not even about Jessica, it's more about the fact that I don't want the unnecessary drama.
"Who gives a fuck 'bout wha she a go do!" I curse. "Just nuh want har fi come...!"
"Why yuh never say nutt'n 'bout the heap a girl dem weh Dwayne invite?" he counters.
My jaw muscles tick.
How many "batta ears" girls have they invited?
It's my fault still...
That's what happens when you leave the planning to some punks that think with their dicks and not their heads.
I drop the rope in my bag and head to the showers. I'm no longer in any fucking mood to exercise.
I hear Petrad hiss his teeth behind me as I walk further away.
Pussyhole...