[22 April]
YOUR HAIR, HAILEY REPEATED nonchalantly, when will you get it done?
It hadn't even been two minutes into our meeting and she'd noticed the struggle. Maybe the beanie gave it away. It was pretty warm outside. "Carlos said he'll take me to the hair salon when I'm done with y'all," I told her.
She gave a nod and slurped. Slurped hard and long at her rainbow flask. Then eyed me while placing it on the table. "Don't you get annoyed of like, being driven around by him?" She rolled her eyes. Rolled them right around the world. "He drives like a lunatic!"
"We get to places quicker," I said with a shrug. I loved it when she reeled her big chocolate eyes at me again; I showed her a bigger smile.
"I swear he'll like, crash you one day!" How positive. "And don't say I didn't warn you when he does..."
You just have to love her arrogance though.
"How's your uh... your mom?" I shifted our focus at once.
Hailey replied with much eagerness, but she didn't let us linger on that one. There's this guy, she told me dreamily. Oh, there was always a guy. I was told about this one while I peered around the café. Even from our cosy corner, I could see the place was still disgracefully empty. Monday morning void, maybe? Well, I couldn't say. I'd only been here four times before anyway: once with Nique and Miranda, once with Miranda alone, and twice with all the girls. All were good times, really. Life was simply easier when Miranda still paid our bills. This place was expensive. I was here today because Monique had said she was buying.
Well well, our buyer still hadn't arrived. Neither had our back-up buyer – Yasmin. 'Come at nine, y'all,' they said. 'Don't be late,' said they. In any case, I arrived a few minutes ago and it was nearly eleven.
It was a while later when they arrived and glided into our sitting space, one next to me, one next to Hailey. Monique next to Hailey, Yasmin next to me. Reassured, we greeted them as they lowered their masks. They greeted us. And I suddenly felt too excited to wait. I had to blurt out from around the bush, "Nique, when are you starting?"
Monique smiled coyly. "Next week Monday," she said.
"Starting what?" Yasmin and Hailey didn't know yet.
"Phycology classes for teens," she told them.
I jumped in, "she met that awesome psychologist last week and she really liked Monique. So she asked Monique to join her, as a student learner, to help her out with her classes."
Yasmin and Hailey contained their delight with simple awe of the eyes and expression. "Wow!" Yasmin cooed, grinning widely at Monique. "That's amazing!"
It was amazing - one of us had already started finding a place in our society.
I was spoiling her because of it, so I handed her the gift I had hidden next to me. She loved it. And she made herself humble again by telling us that Chang was going with her too.
Through the excitement, I took out my phone, which was going mad again, and I glanced at it. It was yet another text blast from Naledi, apologising for the fresh explosion from moments ago.
At the time, I simply wondered 'what in tarnation is going on?!' Maybe it was the season of explosions because nearly every day, Naledi had started text blasting me with regrets and updates about explosions happening around me that I knew nothing of. And those explosion events seemed to rise alongside the traditional 'surge' in COVID cases.
Was this the end of the world? I grinned at this thought, and I put down my phone and engaged my friends in the article of the most recent detonation.
The days that followed came with anxiety and tumult at every text blast that occurred. I was distanced from everything, everyone. Locked in my room for a day in the next month, to think about the tragedies. Never in my life had I seen this many tragedies that baffled and vexed me to the pulp.
I imagined them: a gas tank being opened for use at a tacos truck downtown. A flame, possibly ignited with oblivion, possibly ignited without having been informed of the gas tank not being connected properly. And boom! Blazes and sirens blaring at a frightened mob.
A factory in the countryside, left unattended. Maybe a machine left running, creating friction with another machine – I was not aware of how factories worked. Then boom! Fires and bells shrieking at unmindful workers inside.
Two cars driving at high speed towards a crossroad. Neither car momentarily aware that traffic lights change at any moment. Cars, at full speed, flying into the crossroad. And boom! Fire and heat spreading across the street... taking anything in its path...
...In a month, all of it was forgotten, though. All deaths and fears stomached. All pain supressed into the hearts of the general public. Chaos came like that. It came and went like a professional thief, fast and seemingly undetected. And only after the damage did it become labelled a heist, a chaos.
It was in June when I officially stomached that episode, and formally accepted what had happened as misfortune.
"Are you done now?" Carlos murmured, looking me over.
"No," I muttered.
He mumbled ok. Fell silent like the good little boy he was... sometimes.
About a minute later, I felt his eyes on me again.
"And now?" he murmured.
I peered at him, and he had the novel I had told him to read resting down-right on his naked chest. He was still in the first segment, probably the first page.
"No," I muttered; I did it dramatically.
He mumbled ok again. Fell silent and – because I was watching him now – picked up the book. I focused back when he turned the page. Only to hear, "What about now?"
"You think I've designed the rest in five seconds?" I muttered this while typing in the last line of my code. Kidding. I was typing in the 9th line, out of 15.
"Babe..." – I heard him drop the book on his chest again – "it's been like, two hours of you just typin shit... You need a break."
"Don't forget two hours of you reading the same line over and over again," I reminded indifferently.
He chuckled. I glimpsed him shake his head while shifting to sit up. Focused me kept her eyes on the screen, and her fingers gliding over the keys of her laptop. This part of me was the good one; always trying to get good grades.
"We both need a break then," he said.
He was crawling – I think – around on the bed now. I didn't consider why he was crawling. Well, I chose not to.
"I'm almost done," I assured him.
"C'mon."
"No."
"I think I deserve a reward."
I ignored that. Went on typing in my code.
By all means, let me set the scene a little bit more. So, I was on his bed – one big therapeutic bed shrouded by navy blue and white striped spreads – in his dad's house, in his navy blue and black bedroom. My big ass had me seated comfortably at the base of his cot, the laptop balancing on my thighs. Late afternoon sun shining through the three great windows that beautified his room...
...I was only trying to be inspired furthermore for the graphics task Professor Faraday had assigned. But this Carlos was now attempting the next stage of the ultimate diversion, where I would actually put away my task and focus only on him. He didn't understand that I wanted to go through college once and I wanted to do it well; he didn't understand that for me, submitting these graphic tasks on time for these next two years was my ticket through.
Now, he pushed the big red button; he crawled up to me, slapped the laptop to close and towed it from in front of me. I was beyond frustrated; the thing was due tomorrow. I followed his hands like a frivolous little child, and ended up kneeling over his now-reclined form with my knees bent on either side of his torso, reaching up for the item. Whining his name when I failed. Reaching high again. Whining again. And again. And again...
The guy was entirely evil; he held me down - by my waist! - to hinder me from reaching higher. I still stretched tall for my laptop though. Unlike him, I'd put myself out all the way for assignments, for supposed success. Where he had skipped several lectures just so we could hang in his or my car, I had - as much as I hate this word - abandoned him for every lecture I was notified of. And where I had waited for him to complete one assignment while in the comfort of my company, completion never really occurred from him. I had begun thinking of him as my big baby, and boy, did I love that thought.
He started laughing at my failure after a moment. So, I then glanced down at him and gave up, rolling my eyes. When he stopped laughing, tossing way the laptop, I slapped him, as softly as I could, across the face, but my hand never did actually meet his cheek; he caught it before it got there. "Hey whoa," he teased, intertwining our fingers, "no need to be so violent!"
We plunged into synchronised laughter, where I went all stupid and shy, peering at him with my most wary eye, and where he went quiet too soon and watched me with a weird grin and raised brows. Our eyes locked at his silence. And because of our evolved confidence, we were obliged to kiss, so the nigga perched up fast from his reclining like a new-born spring, and he arrested my lips.
This was absolutely normal – it was the drive that made us kiss every time we happened to be this close, where he'd rise to hundred in seconds. It was also normal to kiss for almost ten minutes, pulling away to say something odd or funny, or regenerating a memory. And it was normal now, for me to slide my nails down his pecs, and trace the attractive outlines of his bare torso.
The new thing was us being completely alone as a couple in an empty bedroom, on a bed, and him being so driven to undress me. I let him, to some extent. Let him rip off my shirt. Let him tip me onto my back and climb over me. Kneel over me and tug down my Mom jeans all the way. I let him break out of that wonderful kiss so that he could look me up and down slowly. Nevertheless, he turned me into a shy little girl when a smirk took over his lips, and when his forehead rested on mine while he told me, "you got such pretty underwear, you know."
"You've never seen my underwear, babe," I muttered. The ghost of a smile haunted my face.
"I see em all the time, baby," he murmured, holding himself more restfully above me. "I'm proud to say I know every one of my girlfriend's favourite combinations... black and pink... black and red..." He smirked more the moment I pressed my lips together at his surprisingly accurate knowledge. And he trailed one finger down the centre of my torso. I actually hated it when he stopped doing down. "I'd prefer laced black ones though," he told me, grabbing hold of my waist with one hand.
"Seriously...?"
"Or nothing at all..." He laughed quietly on my lips. Watching my eyes assiduously. I went all shy and looked down at my raised knee. Gosh, I was such a baby.
When I was looking at him again, he fell silent.
"You're a perv then," I whispered.
He didn't like the label; his brows creased in disapproval. "I'm your boyfriend," he whispered back.
Before I could oppose, which I was dying to do in order to peeve him, he kissed me on the lips, then tracked his way down while tracing my waist.
My man had such weird tactics. I'd always find my body listening hard to his influence, even when it was based on his entertainment over things I knew nothing of. Now, as he nuzzled his way down my hot skin, and discontinued the sensational movements of vague humping, I thought I'd burn under him; I thought I would melt while only running my fingers through his curls.
From then on, he would always be my red-hot nirvana, and he'd continue being the one behind my occasionally dense panties.
He was prepared to carry on, to carry on gradually lowering his fiery blessings, but he paused just below my belly button. Paused before taking my panties down with him. Yeah, now the situation was sinking in. Or he was simply more familiar with my horny ass than I could have ever been. "I'll help you dress now," he murmured, gazing up at me unpretentiously. "Is that okay...?"
With my eyes set on the ceiling still, I gave a tiny, stunned nod – because I suddenly realised I was fricken half-naked. I let his nape go, blinked long and took a deep breath while he slid his hands up the back of my thighs. Up to give my rear cheeks a squeeze. Up my waist, my back. The last kiss he gave me was a peck on the lips. He yanked his cosy spreads away from my reach, then he compelled me to dress. When I was finally obeying him, he sat down hunched at the base of his bed. Letting the thing beneath his grey sweatpants settle down gradually.
I was done in a few. And just then, I inspected Carlos' room.
I'd never seen this type of mess. Not in a while, at least. With I grimace taking over my expression, I bounced off his bed and inquired of why his room suddenly appeared to be so messy. "Babe," he said, chuckling. "It's been like this since you came."
I moseyed over the floor while letting out my frustration with a huff, and I started ordering his things. Gathering dirty clothes into the laundry basket in the corner of his room. Packing away all his shoes into his closet. All these things had been lying all over the place! This guy was a literal disaster.
"Carlos!" The heap of socks in another corner had captured my attention now. The sight frustrated me. "Why don't you pack away your things!?" I hissed.
Shrugging uselessly, nigga came to stand near me, a good two metres from the heap. And we stood momentarily, eyeballing the heap together. "Maybe someday..." he plodded, hauling me into his arms from behind me, "...you could help me fix that problem..." My heart leaped a bit. I smiled and looked out the window. He may have felt my shock because he dragged me right down from the clouds, "I meant you could be my help, shawty."
"Oh wow." I looked at it playfully.
He chuckled too, then went silent. Moseying over to the pile, I picked up a yet another capsule from the floor. I could have sworn I'd picked up ten already. "Carlos!" I swivelled sharply, just as he came bumping into me.
"Hm?" He sidestepped me while I was asking him why. I joined him as he was stooping near the pile and showcased the capsule, which he took from my grip with a smirk. "That's a chemical," he told me. "I stole it from one of the labs."
Again with the stealing!
Why was I not surprised?
"What does this one do?" I inquired, taking the capsule from him. The red contents inside tilted when I slanted it.
Carlos glued his eyes to my awe while telling me, "it destroys DNA."
"NO WAY!" I was intrigued, staring at the capsule. First, it was corrosives. Now this?
"Yes way!" Carlos grunted a laugh.
"Have you tested it out?"
"Not yet..."
I looked at him. He smiled sheepishly at me when I was handing him the capsule. Funny how I was in love with an apparent thief. An alchemist too. He had probably poured me some love potion he had pocketed a few months back.
"I uhh, I'll go get you some juice?" he suggested after a moment.
I bobbed my head, and he got up and galloped towards his closed door.
He took a long time to come back, but, fortunately, I had his messy room to occupy me. I had his bed to make, properly. I had his clothes to arrange orderly. I had his desk to clear up. I had his underwear drawer to...
... discover Durex Condoms?
Grinning, I put them in my pocket and carried on cleaning up. He returned when I was closing up that underwear drawer. I took out the pack and held it up, playfully. He let out a laugh, a breath, and hurried to take the pack from my hand.
"What are they for?" I teased, turning to arrange the next drawer.
"What do you think they're for?" he teased back. He passed me a glass just before I opened the drawer. I drank quickly and shoved an empty glass in his direction. And, as I was finally jerking the drawer open, my man came to cling onto me from behind. He began kissing me on my cheek, over and over again, while I took out unpaired socks and dumped them on the ground.
Just in the corner of that drawer, I found a small picture of a pretty curly-haired tan girl stuck on the wood. Naturally, the first thing that came to mind was 'who's this? What is she doing here?' I took up the picture as Carlos began drowning his kisses slowly. The picture was beautiful; the girl was beautiful. So beautiful I started wondering why Carlos had her in his drawer.
The next thing I did was force Carlos away me. He grumbled, chuckling. I turned to him and held up the picture. His chuckling came to an abrupt end. He grabbed the picture from my hand. I watched him scrunch it up and let it drop to the ground. Even as it hit the matting, I still had my question. It had to be asked casually: "Who's that?"
Carlos shrugged. I dropped to the floor to start pairing the sock, glancing at him from time to time, waiting for his answer. The answer came after a while, "My ex."
"Oh," is all I said to that answer. Maybe I turned into that green-eyed, paranoid girlfriend. I sounded like it when I asked, "do you miss her or something...?"
"No," Carlos replied frankly.
"So," I hissed, "why is she in your drawer...?"
He dropped down also without answering that question; he asked me, "why did I... see... one of Michael's hoodies in your house...?"
Oops.
I'd forgotten to get rid of those, even while I had officially gathered the strength and ability to do so.
I left Carlos unanswered. So, he went on to, "I love you too much... to disrespect you like that..." The suspicious part of me heard lies. Lies that almost brought tears to my eyes. He touched my cheek when I went back to pairing the socks soon afterwards, and he held my face through the awkwardness that was suddenly growing. "I hope you feel the same way..." he whispered, "...cause... you... you're literally all I got..."
He couldn't go on with that tenderness in his tone, and I couldn't respond to him with those possessive elements that were winning within me. Some things were better kept inside.
He let go of my face instantly to sit right behind me and rub and stroke my thighs, letting a less awkward mood rest upon us in the midst of our quiet. I paid no attention to his rubbing. Just his socks, and pairing them. The moment I officially finished, we went sat on his bed, and he showed me his chemical collection. After going through everything inside his giant case, we lay on his bed, gazing at the ceiling and cuddling under a small blanket.
While following the V-shape on his lower torso with my thumb, I turned thoughtful. Thinking that if this had ended up becoming the end of things between us, I wouldn't have agreed to it. I was obsessed. At this point, I couldn't let him go, let alone think about letting him go. Perhaps intimate conversations merged us. Flirting yoked us. Caressing fused us. And those wounds, those wounds were closed by all those things that cemented us.
Perhaps I had fallen too deep too soon. This time, there was no way out. There was no way out of this newly renovated abyss called love.
*
Kylie Parker, who today was dressed in a silky black dress that constricted her slender figure, came rushing out the house and screaming for us to stop. I was leaving now; it was almost seven pm, and I had fallen asleep with Carlos on his bed. My man and I spun to face her when at the garage that lived at the ends of their yard.
One almost-breathless Kylie clogged right in front of us and placed her hands on her knees. Unlike my Carlos, Kylie had striking brown eyes, wavy, silk sable hair and a faintly darker shade of sandy, but she looked exactly like my Carlos the moment she looked at me and made a funny 'give me a sec' gesture with her hand. Only for that moment.
"May we help you?" Carlos quizzed, taking up my hand.
"'May we help you'." Kylie imitated her brother youthfully while rolling her eyes. She straightened up. Loomed over me a little – oh, how I wished she'd stayed down. And she took up my other hand. Going onto, "I need to borrow my favourite older girl friend."
"Don't say girl friend," Carlos growled.
"Well, I need to borrow her so byeee!"
I was yanked. And a weaker source obtained me and ran back with me up the yard. Urging me into what I thought to be the fastest sprint I had run in a while. From behind, Carlos screamed like a damn two-year-old girl as were entering the house. It made us, Kylie and me, giggle as if we were the same age. And Kylie closed the front door behind us. Through it, we glimpsed Carlos coming for us...
That wouldn't end well for Kylie. Kylie herself knew that very well, which was why she spun us both hurriedly, still giggling, and upped our pace.
There I was, acting like I wasn't even trying to run, but I was. I really was. Going up the stairs, the pace was increased again. The girl kept dragging me further in, driving me as if she were one with the east winds. It came to the point of me murmuring, "Okay, okay, okay stop!"
But she did not stop. She only stopped when we were in her bright purple room, and she wasn't really breathless. I think she could have been a runner for a living. Her stamina was astounding.
"I'm supposed to be going home, Kylie," I said in one go, though I still moseyed further into her room.
"I know," she acknowledged. She locked her grey door, then whirled back to me, turning her expression into a pathetic one. I noticed that she was wearing make-up in that moment. "But I need yer help," she told me.
I opened my mouth to quarrel, but she snatched me to her dressing table. My quarrel went right back down my throat. When she was sitting on her dull purple stool, facing the mirror and watching me through it, she pleaded whiningly. "Pwease..." – she began emulating a baby – "you pwomised me you'd help me whenever you could..."
"But..." I started, "I have to go home like, now!"
She ignored me; she took a shiny hair brush from her brush set container and handed it to me. I found myself accepting it with a sigh, because I was so compliant when it came to her. Ever since we had met, she had made a huge space for herself in my heart. In reality, she may have been one of my favourite teenagers.
"Ight, ight," I uttered, momentarily sounding like my man. I smiled awkwardly, just as the noise of Carlos raining on Kylie's door awakened. "What's up?" I snubbed my man. "Why do you need my help?"
While her darker skin was flushing into something very red, the girl looked down into her lap. I started brushing her wavy hair, brushing her silky mane, as her answer seemed far from coming through. Eventually she looked up at me through her mirror. "I am... goin on a date," she told me weirdly.
A loud, stupid laugh warbled from my lips, but soon afterwards, a frown played on my face. I brushed her waves all the more, and Carlos' noise became ordinary. Like the sound of the wind, or the feel of his heartbeat. I could tolerate it already now.
"How old are you?" I asked Kylie.
"I already told you, girl," she hissed teasingly, watching me keenly through the mirror. "I'm 16."
I chuckled at the irony... "You know, at 16, I wasn't even allowed to talk to boys!" I said.
"I'm guessin you still did?" she suggested. And she smirked, while the two thick strands of her sable hair dangled over her eyes, that mischievous 16-year-old.
I nodded honestly at her suggestion. Telling her, "guilty as charged."
She gave a small laugh, briefly glancing at the door, where my man was currently going mad with, 'GET THE FUCK OUTTA THERE, NIRAAJ,' and, 'KYLIE, DON'T YOU MAKE ME BREAK DOWN THIS DOOR,' and, 'NIRAAJ, COME OUT, BABY,' and, 'KYLIE, OUT, NOW!' and, oh, so much more. Plus the consistent banging. Kylie and I simply smiled at the same time, and she peered at me happily, shaking her head.
"Tell me how you met my stupid brother," she said. A smirk came over her lips.
I shrugged. "Okay..." I murmured. "Sure... I mean, it's not like, weird or anything. I could tell every single one of your relatives too, right? They would--"
"Just tell me!" She was curt. But she laughed once, after rolling her eyes.
I gave another shrug, grinning. "Fine... It was, I think," I started, carrying on with the brushing, "in June two years ago. I was... walking..."
Walking...
The memory returned as I continued on.
I was walking. Walking from a lecture, because Michael had not come to pick me up. The sun had been setting so quickly; it was getting darker by the minute. I remembered an old cobalt blue truck stopping just ahead of me as I was navigating my way around the stadium, then a fine dark young man leaning out the passenger's window and yelling 'wanna ride?' at me.
I took it as an insult. I didn't know him; above that, I had been hammered with the notion that when a man asked to give you a ride, cold-shouldering him was the way to go. So, I had pouted, lifted my mask and carried on walking. I came to pass the car. I had casually looked inside. Looked inside to see the driver. And it was another fine young man, though this one was sandy.
I had looked away from this one's deep blue eyes, hiding unexpected fancy. Hiding impulsive temptations that I felt just by looking at him. I sped up. Up until I was gone, far away from that truck possessing fine young men.
Days passed. Weeks passed. I thought I forgot them with time, just like how strangers could be forgotten with time. It was just one crazy coincidence how I saw them again and remembered our truck encounter straightaway.
What actually happened was, Hailey and I were hanging out at a shopping centre in mid-town in early July. Michael was meant to be there too; he had promised to hook Hailey up with Marijuana for her roommate. But, he bailed; he had been summoned to attend a funeral at last minute, which I had urged him to go over coming with us.
So, it was just Hailey and me. Hailey and me travelling around a great mall on a late Thursday afternoon. It was so unexpected how we bumped into Monique at some point during that time. She told us, "Oh, Chang's havin' his birthday so we came here to eat expensive food from that fancy diner."
"Cute," I confessed.
"Ye." Monique had nodded and went on to, "Y'all should meet Chang's friends. They be like, so funny..."
"Na..." Hailey mumbled, "We really shouldn't..."
"I'll buy you something..." Monique tempted us.
That was all we were willing to hear; we went to meet these so-called funny friends of Chang's. It was so unforeseen, how those two fine young men I'd seen in the truck weeks before happened to be the one's Monique had described as 'so funny', as Chang's friends.
My, it was awkward seeing them there. The two of them, having matching blue masks lowered, kept sitting. Kept watching me with a fresh gallon of amusement – they must have remembered our truck encounter, too. I was able to keep it cool, keep my expression ordinary while Hailey and I said happy birthday to Chang and showered him with poking and soft nudging.
Afterwards, Monique made introductions as she sat down next to Chang – that left Hailey and I to stand awkwardly behind their seats, facing two fine young men. "Guys" – I vividly remembered Monique being so opportune with this – "these are some of my girls: Niraaj and Hailey..." Nique never indicated who was who. I felt it was better.
Lowering my mask awkwardly, I waved slightly, letting one of my grim grins curl my lips. Hailey waved too and leaned on Chang's chair teasingly. "Heyyyyy," she purred in jest, flirting though, and completely putting her mask away. "I'm Hailey... in case you're all like, wondering..." Yeah, she just had to.
These fine young men nodded and smiled, and the dark one finally tore his amused gaze from me. That left the sandy one. The sandy one's eyes produced butterflies within me. Child-like butterflies. I had to do something about that. I made a face at him after a moment, and he just looked down with a smirk.
All that had happened in seconds; I was listening to Monique again in no time, "That's Andes." She gestured to the dark one. The dark one, Andes, put up the peace sign and murmured 'yo'. Monique carried on while he did so. "And that's Carlos." She gestured to the sandy one. The sandy one, Carlos, looked up and nodded.
I was stealing seemingly casual glances at the Carlos one subsequently, while the Andes guy irrelevantly explained how his uncle worked in this fancy diner. When he was done, there was an awkward silence, which I registered as opportunity. "Well," I began shyly, touching Monique's shoulder, "Hailey and I have to go... so..."
"C'mon..." Monique played. "Y'all should really stay..."
I peered at her as she swivelled in her seat to peer at me. Meanwhile, Hailey was saying, "If you insist..." And she shuffled to take a seat close to the Andes guy, instantly seducing him openly.
I was convinced despite my will. Made to take a seat between the Carlos guy and Hailey. The Carlos guy held out his hand to me awkwardly whilst the others were muttering boundlessly to each other. Regulations had already diverged, so I took the hand. Clutched the hand. Grabbed the hand. And I thought wow. Firm, steady fingers; firm steady grip.
"Uhm..." He cleared his throat, just as I blinked gripping thoughts away. We disunited our hands then. I could feel him looking at me when I looked ahead, trying to shake off that divine feel of his grip. "Nice to... meet you," he said, his voice now an ordinary deep and husky sound, though lowered.
I had told him, "likewise." Then, involuntarily, stole a glance at his face.
Damn, he was even finer from this distance and angle. And his eyes... I fell right in while looking into them.
"You uh..." he started, swinging back in his chair, "you... like them big parties...?"
"Na." I was honest, finally ripping my eyes from his. "I prefer small celebrations."
"Great," he said, nodding. "So, you... like this, huh?"
I gave a shrug. "Yeah." I guess I did, though I had basically just gotten here.
"'Ight..." he mumbled.
But I spoke over him, "I haven't actually witnessed big celebrations though..."
"Oh." He smiled. "I could help you with that? Maybe uh... give you a fair judgement between the two."
How lovely: I accepted a stranger's request: "Yeah, I'd love that."
"Cool... Cool..."
And just like that, my new pal went inept and quiet, swinging back and forth on the back legs of his chair. Even then, I had all sorts of reactions attack me at the reminder of his presence. And my heart ever-hammered at the sight of his eyes. I even told him, "I really like your eyes..." after some time.
And the nigga smiled...
...Who was I kidding? I needed no big red flag to tell me this guy was actually blushing...
So, he was there, slanting backwards with his seat, blushing behind skin that couldn't turn red and biting at his bottom lip. And I found myself blushing at the sight of it, also easily managing to make it appear to just be a smile. He looked down and laughed once after a moment, murmuring, "thank you."
I gave a spontaneous nod, while forcing myself to accept that we fell in love with new people every day, and that it was absolutely normal.
In a short while, there was a moment of silence across our whole table, just as masked waiters and waitresses began bringing out trays. Then murmuring rose again between the others, who were probably not awkward at all.
I'd scraped my chair back a bit right after seeing waiters flock up to our table. Shifting back couldn't be a crime, but in my case, it turned into exactly that. My shifting back caused someone behind, having appeared out of nowhere, to trip. That someone stumbled and cursed. That curse happened because something fell from that someone's hands. That something was a large cup of smoothie. That large cup of smoothie fell right onto Carlos' lap.
How awkward could I be. Funny how one clumsy black girl could cause such chaos.
Gasping maybe a little over-dramatically, I covered my mouth, then put my hands together. The Carlos guy was stunned; he stared at his crotch, like some of the ones around were doing, but he carried on swinging back and forth with his chair. "I'm soo sorry!" I muttered.
I was up in no time, grabbing napkins to help him out, and I rushed to squat between his legs and started wiping his now-soggy crotch.
The gazes pointed in my direction increased. I didn't know why. I believed carrying on (apologising, wiping him, and telling him I'd hand-wash his pants if necessary) would take those eyes away. So, I continued. Mumbled right over his it's fines.
Something began to harden on his crotch when I put my hand on his thigh the moment the liquid was nearly gone. He stopped leaning back and inclined forward quickly, murmuring something I couldn't hear.
It was in that moment that I realised what I was doing: wiping Carlos' crotch, probably rubbing on his penis.
I dropped the napkin and looked up at his face.
Stupid me.
Stupid me.
Stupid me.
The gazes made sense then; it seemed they were only trying to understand what I was having a go at, some amused, some shocked. Majority shocked.
In silence, hiding uncomfortable delight, I got up. The Carlos guy stood with me from his seat, and he walked away while I was whirling away from him clumsily. I attended the someone standing, the someone who's smoothie had fallen in Carlos' lap. "I am so sorry about your smoothie," I said apologetically.
The someone glared at me over their mask. "Sorry?" they hissed. "That smoothie costs a fortune."
"Well, next time, try not to walk right behind someone's chair." I said it as kindly as I could.
"Where am I supposed to walk if I can't walk behind someone's chair?" the person fired back.
"Eish, you know..." I looked into their eyes and explained how cars always left a gap between the car in front and itself for a reason. That sparked a vendetta I didn't want to be involved in. The person said I had to apologise with money; I argued I wasn't going to do that because it was all their fault in the first place.
Eventually, Monique graciously emerged from her seat and passed the person a fifty.
That person moseyed away boldly. With a sigh, I slid back into my chair calmly. Gazes went away. Amusement died down; shock died down. And the atmosphere went back to normal.
At our table, when the Carlos guy was back, what I had foolishly done became the trend. There was responsible laughter, in which I found myself clumsily gazing at the Carlos guy. His eyes were like magnets, ever-luring me in. I mean, I saw eyes everyday... but his just hit different. They hit home. Hit parts of me that Michael hadn't yet managed to hit at the time. Hit parts of me that made him compatible with everything I suddenly wanted. Hit parts of me that-
"Okay, that's enough." Kylie stopped me, rolling her eyes. "Now you're just being gross..." The knocking was still happening, so was the shouting. I rolled my eyes, at both Carlos and Kylie, as Kylie was going on with a naughty smile, "but... Car says you moved back on purpose so that the smoothie would spill..."
He wished!
"Why the hell would I do that?" I muttered.
"I don't know." The girl smirked stronger.
"Well," I said, "you know what they say: there's always another stupid side to a story." I shrugged, bringing a portion of Kylie's hair up into a bun, and Kylie chuckled. When she was quiet, I noted something: "Wait, he... told you?"
"He tells me everything about you that he says is appropriate for me to know," Kylie said to me. "I think he's obsessed, though. It's quite concernin how much he knows about you..."
I clipped a few sparkly pins in the bun while beaming like an idiot. Why I thought this information to be miraculous was a mystery. After a moment, I heard Kylie chortling, her voice sounding like little jingling bells, and she hurriedly swivelled to face me in the stool. The child was a real beauty when she smiled like that.
"Did you know Car used to jerk off like, real intensely on you?" she muttered. All the beauty turned nifty; she smirked at the cynical yet stunned expression on my face.
"He told you that?" I had to ask.
"No" – she laughed uncomfortably, emphasising her no with her hand and spinning back to face the mirror – "that one would be so inappropriate - according to Car..." Her smirk came again. "I found out myself, and don't ask me how, because I won't tell you. At all!"
I gave a tight nod, for I was starting to feel uncomfortable and content at the same time. "Cool," is what I said, while planting more shiny pins in her bun.
Kylie turned serious, or shocked – I could not tell. "Don't ask me how I found this one out either, but... you won't fuck your own boyfriend?!" I did not respond, so the girl crossed her lean arms and asked me, "How old are you?"
It was a little weird to have a 16-year-old ask you such a question. "I hope you're not planning on having sex till you're married, Kylie?" I put in gravely.
"I'm a good child, Niraaj," she assured me. "I'm basically like you..."
I narrowed my eyes at her when I recognised the amount of times she had mentioned that she was 'basically like me'. "Okay!" I concluded bluntly, letting her hair go.
Now, everything was done. I noticed her working on puffing up the sides. Innocently fiddling with the tresses that I'd intentionally left hanging over either ear. I knew better than to think it was all innocent. Her hearing aid lived there in the left.
"Why you hiding it?" I asked her kindly after watching her for a minute, gently pulling her hands from the left.
She looked down sullenly while I let her hands drop heavily into her lap. I might have struck a nerve. "I don't know if he'll like it," she said.
"He's never seen it?" I nudged her locks so that both ears were visible. The blue and white hearing aid too. I loved it.
"No." Kylie shook her head, sagging her shoulders forward. "Not many people have."
"Kylie, if this guy doesn't like the fact that his girl is wearing a damn hearing aide..." I lifted her chin. Made sure her eyes were on mine in the mirror. She smiled unusually a little as I continued, "...I don't think he understands what acceptance is, of which acceptance is one of the majors in a relationship..."
"Are you tryin' to convince me to not cover my ears?" she murmured with a thin smile. Almost a bleak smile.
And here I was, trying to help a sister out.
"Is it not working?" I couldn't help but make a face.
She gave a shrug, telling me, "I'll do it next time."
"Just wait until you're in the moment – today, I mean."
She snickered while concealing her ears.
I don't think she had understood the fact that some things we thought to be flaws had to be seen before all these things we believed were perfections. Either way, I wasn't one to force my beliefs on anyone, especially when I had come to accept that they never really did apply to everyone.
"Do you need help with anything else?" I asked her when she was done fluffing around.
The noise at the door diminished totally. There was a moment in which Kylie contemplated during the silence, then, "Ohh yea... So, um... I'm about to go my period, and I'm out of pads and tampons. And I really don't wanna have to ask dad or Car..."
"Okay, okay," I murmured. "I'll bring some for ya."
"Thank you so much!" she uttered, flushing faintly. "See. This is why I'm happy with you being Car's wife."
My heart skipped a beat, or more. "Wife?" I inquired sceptically.
She sniggered, standing up from the stool and making her way towards the grey door of her bedroom. "He gave you that chain, baby girl," she said as she unlocked it. "So, technically, you his wife..."
"No..." I plodded, although loving the idea. "Technically, I'm just his girlfriend."
"I don't know." Kylie shrugged with a chuckle. And she jerked the door open.
Carlos was on the other side of the door, carrying a stern expression on his face and shaking his head ever-so-slightly. His arms were crossed, thumbs sticking out from next to his pits. He looked like a riled up devil. "Kylie," he growled, "you're so fucking grounded."
"You ain't the boss of me... stupidass bitch!" Kylie whispered.
"Hey," Carlos growled again, pointing harshly at his sister, "mind your fucking tongue."
"Ok, Mr. Cunt."
Their fights were totally divine; I found myself hiding a smile once more. My man's expression went vacant as he told the girl, "That's two months of no TV."
"I don't watch TV," she said.
Liar!
She stumbled back to me, while my man was crossing his arms nicely again and shaking his head. Then Kylie hugged me. I felt odd whenever she hugged me, especially because she was younger than me, yet she was the same height as me. Kidding – she was many inches taller than me.
"Love you," she mumbled into my shoulder.
"Love you too, babes."
We sighed in unison, maybe with affection. Her arms stayed around me for another moment. I glanced at Carlos, recalling how long Kylie's clasps lasted, and he had his eyebrows arched in question and shun. Eventually, he smiled and shook his head again while leaning his left shoulder against the doorpost. "I love you more than she does!" he mouthed.
I snickered, and that was when I decided the hug with Kylie was over.
I was out of her bedroom in no time, towed by my Carlos and being scolded for my compassion. On the drive, in his grey Volkswagen Tiguan, we didn't talk. He had given up on making me see my irrationality.
My father's car was pulling up in the driveway when we arrived. Carlos smiled. Then, after, stopping the car behind it, he glanced at me. Now, I reasoned with him. I rolled my eyes and unclipped the belt.
"Are you happy?" he inquired cleverly.
I left him without an answer. I jumped out after seeing my father approach us, approach the car we were in. Carlos got out with me and greeted my father first. They spoke for a little while. My father seemed to be a fan of my Carlos ever since he started coming to church with us. It made me a little self-satisfied, seeing that Carlos was notably taller than my father. And, primarily, seeing that my father was happy with my Carlos.
They involved me in their discussion later on, both commenting on my neat shoes. Then, my father said farewell to my man and sauntered away, that gracefully black man. There was a passive silence during those moments, even from the tiny creatures that lurked in the rich shrubbery that garnished the driveway. All souls must have been reverencing my father's exodus, or perhaps it was simply an honest coincidence. But the hums and squeaks started again while the older man made his way up his front porch. Carlos regarded me as my father was closing the front door. And when my father vanished from there, my Carlos gave one laugh and dragged me into an embrace. His fragrance ever-made me smile.
"Your mama came home hours ago," he muttered into my head.
"Oh no."
"Oh yes." His chest trembled with laughter. "I'll pray for you."
In no time at all, he was gone, and I was locking up the front door. Nico wasn't in the lounge. Father wasn't in the lounge. It was only mama who was in the lounge. Seated on the sofa that directly faced the TV, flipping through channels.
This was the worst way to come home. This was the worst way to be interrogated.
"Hie," she mewled, "your back." She watched me as I was inching slowly into the lounge.
"Yes, mama." I smiled. I was ready to pass through to the stairs, but she stopped me.
"Why are you late, dear?" The volume on the TV was spun down. I turned to her and took out my phone, pretending something important was happening on it. "Was there traffic?" she went on. "Or maybe... there was another accident near your college?"
"Ooh, no, mama." I laughed a bit and put my phone down momentarily. "I just lost track of time."
She nodded. She believed it, I thought. If so, I was a certified liar.
The green and yellow doek on her head made her look like a witch. I deliberated upon the fact that one of my worst nightmares was coming to life.
"Eish..." Mama put up the volume and said, "I was so worried."
"There was no need to worry, mama," I assured her.
I turned to go up, but she told me to wait once more. She asked me to sit down, and I sat down on the sofa that lived right by the stairs, far from her.
"Yes," I murmured, "mama?"
"My daughter." The volume was put down again, and mama regarded me with an expression of disappointment. "One of your cousins was impregnated by a Minister back at home." I nodded solemnly. That was all I could do. "So," mama continued, "now there is a problem because the Minister is refusing the child, and they want to prosecute her."
"Why don't they take a DNA test?" I suggested quietly.
"The thing is, they already did that, but the results showed that he was not the father." I nodded solemnly again. And I sat closer to the edge, drowning my eyes from the sharp gaze of an African Queen. "My dear," she continued after a moment, "I know I have told you this once before, but I will tell you again. You, the girl child, should be very careful with your decisions. If you are going to sleep with a man, make sure he is your husband, and make sure you can trust him with all your heart." Again, I nodded solemnly. I had seen this one coming: "Are you sleeping with Carlos?"
"No, mama. I'm not sleeping Carlos," I said it calmly. Doing things calmly was the only way to make this situation pass by swiftly.
"Okay, good." Mama bobbed her head glumly and sighed, as if I had said something exceptionally wise. "I want the best for you, my daughter, and I never want you to get hurt by the people of this world." She put up the volume on the TV once more and in our language, she said, "Your food is in the warmer."
29/11/2021