COMMENTS PLS
(Jahsynt)
It’s Saturday, the first day of our spring break so I’m waiting out to see if Evangeline is free anytime this weekend. I been thinking about her so much more than usual over these past few days that’s its lowkey making me feel kinda obsessed. Thinking to myself like damn, nigga chill. Let her breathe. At the same time I don’t know if I have the self-control to give her space like she may or may not want. Even at night, my dreams got real intense and I ended up falling out the bed so I woke up at 4am on the floor—so here I am. It’s still dark outside and it’s a cool breeze so I open up the windows so my curtains can fly up and hit me with a pleasant draft. At least this time I woke up before my sheets got drenched. Reminiscing about how fine Evie is and how triumphant it made me feel the day after our anniversary when I seen all them hickies all over her neck and chest, a sudden throbbing jolts over my crotch. It wasn’t the dreams that bothered me necessarily, but more like their effect on me. My dick is hard enough to slice clean through a diamond and it motivates my hand to absentmindedly reach out for my phone and my fingers automatically start to dial her number. Her name pops up half-way through dialing it; Sunshine with the smirk and blushing emojies. (yes, that’s her name in my phone nigga don’t judge me.) I let the phone ring forever until it stops and I hear some movement.
“Hello?” Evie’s voice is all groggy and shit (because obviously I woke her up) but she sounds so cute and raspy and disoriented that my other hand automatically begins to entertain the monster growing in my draws.
“baby,” I exhale.
“…mm-hmm?”
“I miss you.”
After a brief silence she says, “jah…it’s so early. you woke me up.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“that’s sweet.” She clears her throat. “can I go back to bed now?”
“if you stay up with me real quick I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
“but jahsynt,”
Shiiit. Why she have to say my name like that? the stokes became slightly quicker and more rapid. Still stroking, I scrambled to my feet, wondering where my Jergens was located at. “Evangeline. Stay up with me.”
“ugh, fine.” She yawns. “why you up so late anyway?”
I tell her, “I was up thinking about you.” my trusty bottle of Jergens is underneath my bed, so I retrieve it quickly and go back to advancing toward this nut.
“Jah, seriously.” She says doubtfully, sounding more awake than before.
“I’m dead ass serious.”
“Mhm. Why you breathing so hard?”
She finna catch a nigga slipping. “…No reason.”
Don’t lie.”
“Chill, Evie. Just talk to me, I don’t wanna talk right now. I just want to hear your voice.”
“..um ok? You’re being weird…”
“How?”
“I don’t know…calling at 4:45am when you know damn well spring break has just started and I was tryna catch up on some rest and you breathing all heavy like you running a marathon, then you won’t tell me why. Did something happen that you won’t tell me about?”
“Evie…chill. You’re overthinking this.”
“I am?”
“Mhmmm…” As I’m getting a bit closer to bussin, all types of freaky thoughts involving me and Evangeline are flitting throughout my mind. I know better than to tell her because she’d probably freak out and hang up on me. She gets real uncomfortable whenever I bring up sex, I don’t really know why and since I’m not tryna pressure her into anything, I don’t push her to find out.
“Jahsynt why is you moaning? I’m not stupid. Don’t tell me you’re…you’re…are you?”
“…am I what?”
“Uhnnn, OMG you are so fucking nasty for calling me and jacking off in my ear!”
I go silent, half because I don’t have nothing to say to her and half because I’m currently getting a wave of pleasure. Sadly, nowhere near bussin.
“Jah?”
“Yeah…”
“You not gone say nothing?”
Lowkey she’s starting to piss me off but I know way better than to make my irritation known. “Just relax,”
“…fine.” I can tell that she’s agitated with me and probably won’t talk to me like I want her to, but I’m not turned off and my mind is still dedicated to getting this nut. My stroke speed up and my arm is getting tired but truthfully, a nigga don’t give a fuck. I sigh heavily, growing impatient with every passing second. My temperature is rising like I’m bouta sweat and I keep going, going faster and all the sudden the shit intensifies outta nowhere and shiiiiit oh shiiit—a long stream of cum expels from my dick and I gasp loudly from the all-consuming pleasure. And seemingly, just as soon as it came, the pleasure is over. Catching my breath, I think, damn now I gotta clean this shit up.
“Hello,” I say, surprised she’s been silent for so long. She doesn’t respond so I repeat myself. This time, the response I get is from the dial tone.
*
(Evangeline.)
After going back to sleep, I wake up at eleven in the morning after an extra six hours of sleep and surprisingly, my mom is downstairs cooking. I was so stressed that I didn’t even realize that today, Saturday would be the first day of Spring Break. This is like the first time I’ve seen her in about five days and she looks a little different—her dreads are braided up and she’s fresh-faced, no makeup, none of that. Rare.
“Mommy where have you been!” my reaction is automatic; anguished and authentic.
“Hey, honey…” she says in an incredibly light voice. “I was waiting for you to wake up.”
“Where were you? Everything has been crazy without you! How could you—“
“Wake your sister up and I’ll tell you both together.”
I groan, roll my eyes and proceed down up the stairs to Genesis’s room. I love my baby sister but since she now thinks she’s grow she has been way too much for me. Never before have I witnessed someone change so much in two weeks’ time. Ever since Tyrian popped her cherry, she thinks she’s hot shit but when she discovers that he’s only using her, she gone be crying on my shoulder and apologizing about it all. Typical baby-thot antics. Her wild dark hair is splayed over her pillow and I lowkey envy the texture. We both have long hair, but mines is a little more coarse than hers. Her curl pattern is like 3B or some shit and mine is 4A. I love my curls, but hers are just so much more manageable and she takes the shit for granted, always talking about how she wants to cut her hair. Or wanted to cut it before she pulled Tyrian.
“What?” she says groggily, apparently awake. “I don’t want none of your nasty eggs and sausage, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Bitch, please.” I hiss. “Momma’s home and she wants to talk to us. Get your ass up.”
“What? MOMMA is here?”
“Yeah. I guess you forgot we had one.” I roll my eyes and exit her room.
She mumbles something under her breath and follows behind me as I walk back to the living room, where a peaceful looking Mommy is sitting at the TV, her skin glowing and her eyes serene. I sit next to her. “So you gonna tell us where you were?” I ask.
“Yeah, and why you decided to come back?”
“I…I’m sorry.” Mom begins. “I know this is no excuse but I honestly just needed some time away. I didn’t think it’d be so long, and I know that I may not have gone about it in the right way, but…I love you. You’re my girls. I’m here now, and I’ll be here.” she looks at both of us with pleading eyes. “I’ll always be here when you need me.”
“We definitely (don’t) need you.” Genesis and I say in unison, except she said ‘don’t’ where I said ‘definitely’. I guess she was really smelling herself during this parental hiatus! I add, “we do.” And Mommy gives me a kind of hopeful smile.
“You can go back to your room, Genesis.”
Genesis does just that and Mom looks at me. All of the sudden she blurts out, “I have depression. Manic depression.”
“You’re bipolar?” I gasp.
“I don’t know. I haven’t been diagnosed bipolar, but manic depression is a stage—or symptom of bipolar disorder.”
I look at her, and I think about the signs. Mommy was always pretty extra, emotionally. I’ve always been a mouthy, audacious kid and never was afraid to tell my momma what I thought, which sometimes caused us to argue. When we’d argue, we’d both get super sensitive and often started crying over nothing. I guess it made since with me being a kid, but mama was a grown woman crying over a petty argument. And all the times she used to hit daddy and flip out on him before they ended things for good…it all adds up. “Wow…what did you do when you were gone?”
“Rehab…psychiatric evaluation for three days. The other two, I was working extra hours to keep myself busy.”
I lean over and rest my head on my mommy’s shoulder, my nature considerably more forgiving. “What made you think you needed help?”
“I kept having…nightmares. About…you. Your sister. Your father. I became suicidal and delusional…but I knew I had children to look after and a job to maintain. Money to bring home. So I had to fix it and I did—I am.”
My heart instantly drops into my tummy and I hug my mom, I missed her so much and it’s just devastating to know that’s what she was going through, that’s why she went away for that short period of time. Lord, I am just so happy she’s here now. Between my fluctuating emotional state and Genesis’s horrific attitude, I need my mother more than ever. I wonder why she told Genesis to leave before she told me that. Perhaps because Genesis doesn’t exactly have the emotional maturity to deal with news like that. I feel close to my mom than I ever have before and also more concerned about her.
*
Jahsynt hasn’t texted or called all day and it’s almost four o’clock, so I text him first.
Me: baby wya I miss you :)
Perhaps he’s still salty that I hung up on him earlier. I’m sure that’s it. Now I have to put up with him and his emotions. But it’s whatever because I was genuinely disturbed that he called me while he was all…engorged. And all my hickies haven’t even healed yet but I lowkey want some more. I just don’t necessarily want a close relationship with his...thing. Whatever. I shake the thought off and my phone vibrates where it sits resting on my thigh. I look down.
JahPapi: what
Ok, so obviously he’s mad. Now I gotta clean up this mess I’ve made. Sighing and rolling my eyes, I dial his number and put the phone to my ear.
“What?” he says with a blatant bad attitude.
“Why you got an attitude?”
“I don’t.”
I sigh. So he wanna play games… “Look, I’m sorry I hung up on you but I was kinda pissed that you was jacking off in my ear. It made me uncomfortable and I was sleepy. I didn’t think you would get so mad.”
“I’m not mad.”
“Jahsynt.”
“Evangeline.”
“Tell the truth!”
“I am.”
I sigh once more. “Jah, I love you.”
He pauses. “I love you too.” his tone isn’t soft, it’s frankly, quite harsh, but the words aren’t forced. So I guess that’s a good thing.
“You sure you’re not mad at me?”
“I’m not mad at you.”
“…ok.”
“Relax. I promise, I am not mad at you.”
I exhale. “Ok…but can you just tell me what’s wrong. And don’t lie and tell me it’s nothing. Even if it’s small, just tell me. I want to talk about it.”
It takes him a minute to go ahead and speak. “It’s stupid.”
“No it’s not. Tell me.” I get up from my spot in my chair and lay back on my bed, the soft comforter combined with the plush firmness of the mattress cushion my back and I groan a little from the relief.
“…It just…it bothers me that anytime we talk about anything like that it makes you uncomfortable.”
“Oh,”
“I just, I don’t understand it. I want to understand it but I’m not finna make you talk about it if you don’t want to and I don’t want you to feel bad about it, but… it just makes me feel like…” he trails off, leaving me in anxiety and suspense.
“Like what?” I croak.
“Just like—like you don’t really want me like that.” From the way he says it, I can tell he’s not entirely comfortable with the word choice. He’s being careful, thoughtful. He doesn’t want to offend me.
“Jahsynt, that’s not—“
“Yeah, yeah. I know.”
“It’s hard to explain.”
“You don’t have to explain it if you don’t want to.”
“But you want me to.”
“It’s cool.”
“Are you sure?”
“I don’t wanna talk about this no more.”
“Ok.”
He goes silent, and I try to think of something else to talk about. I don’t like this, this tension on both sides of the conversation. Him being reserved and quiet as a defense mechanism, me being confused and searching for a way to assuage the situation. I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “My momma came back home.”
“Oh foreal? What…what’s that like?”
“She…it’s a long story. I’d rather tell you in person.”
“Awe. I guess I could try and see you later. Won’t yo’ momma be home though?”
“Yeah probably. I don’t care though. We don’t have to tell her that we’re together.”
“Awe ok. If that’s what you want.”
“I just want to see you.”
*
As of now, we’re just sitting on the porch as my mother is sleeping on the sofa, and Genesis is somewhere in the house on the phone with Tyrian. Jahsynt came at around six—just after dinner and right before the sun began to set. He hasn’t been speaking much, but he has maintained a tight grip on my hand—now both our hands are glued together by the sweat of our palms.
“Jahsynt,”
“Yes?”
“You’re being so quiet.”
He shifts on his side of the bench and I swing my calves over and rest them on his thighs to keep him from moving too far away from me. “My bad, I’m just thinking.”
“About?”
“Everything.”
“You mean, like us?”
“Yeah.”
“Bad thoughts or good thoughts?”
“Both…neither.”
I start to retract from him but he looks at me a certain way that tells me that maybe I shouldn’t. Honestly, I can’t help but find myself a little irritated with his moodiness. Usually I put up with it but its just confusing me and making my stomach knot up. The thing about being with Jahsynt is, no matter what mood he’s in you don’t know if he’s about to kiss you or break up with you. I reach over and poke him in the cheek. “What’s on your mind? This silence is making me nervous.”
“I don’t wanna make you upset.”
“Fuck it, just say it.” I say, trying not to display how agitated I get when he holds back from me.
“Aight…”
There is an awkward silence, so I nudge him again. “I’m waiting. C’mon, just be honest.”
“I made you uncomfortable, this morning, right?”
I blink. “What?”
“This morning. When I called you.”
“Yeah…I guess. I don’t know I just wasn’t…in the mood.” I say, a little scared that I know what he’s onto. “Why?”
“I just don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”
“You don’t.”
“Aight.” He says stiffly.
“Jah, you don’t.”
“I said ‘aight’.”
“I heard you.” I slide my legs from his lap and scoot about an inch or two away from him. Sick of the stiffness. The distance. The…drifting apart? (I really hope not.) I ask Jahsynt for honesty, for complete candor—and I get pushed away. Shit is irritating. I’m breathing heavy, staring at my knees. Trying to figure out exactly what pieces are missing from this puzzle. What’s going on with us? Where are we? Antonio comes to mind, briefly and all of the sudden my side of the bench is cold. “Do you even want to be here?”
“Of course I do.” his words come out attached ‘ofcourseido’—rushed.
“mm. You certainly act like it.” Sarcasm drips from my tone as I roll my eyes.
“Don’t be like that, Evangeline.” He reaches out and runs his fingers halfway through my hair. From baby hair to the abundance curls at the middle, before the jagged, split ends. His eyes are peering at me with a light sense of some soft, sappy emotion like guilt. But I don’t know exactly what he’s guilty for. “Come here.” he says gently, and acts before I am able to make a decision or not. He drags me toward his lap by my waist with his hands and I spill onto him like a knocked over cup of Kool-Aid. Fluid. Careless.
I am easy to please, and maybe a little too forgiving. My romantic history says so. I wrap my arms around him and bury my face in the curve of his neck where his jaw and shoulder meet. I run my fingers through the plush kink of his curls. His hands in my hair. My hands in his. “Just tell me. Straight up. Tell me what’s on your mind. Your doubts, fears…whatever. I don’t care. Just keep it real. Be one hunnit.”
He stares at me for a moment through hesitant eyes. “That’s what you want.”
“You already know.”
“Then you do the same with me? Being honest?”
“Of course.”
“I just want to make you happy.”
“You do.”
“Are you sure? I mean…you cry all the time. And all this other shit. Like with…with my ex.”
“I’m not worried about Aviva. Not unless you are.” I give him a challenging look. “Are you?”
“Hell no.” Then he nods. “What about Tyrian?”
“I don’t want Tyrian.”
Jahsynt stares me down. Something pensive and suspicious about his eyes. Like he’s evaluating me and I can feel the weight of his trust (or lack thereof) on my shoulders. He says, “What about Antonio?”
Shit. I feel the syllables of Antonio’s name on my skin, making the hair on my arms lift. Like electricity. “What? Antonio? What makes you bring him up?”
“Man, just answer the question.”
“Why are you asking me that?”
“Shit!” his volume catapults suddenly and his movement almost knocks me off his lap. “I knew you still had feelings for that nigga. I fucking knew that shit.”
“I don’t!”
“Don’t lie, man.”
I sigh. “Fine. What do you want me to say?”
“The truth.”
Pressure in my tummy lifts and all the sudden I’m consumed by heat. Livid, almost like I was when I caught Genesis and Tyrian fucking in my room. In my bed. I look at Jah’s distrustful eyes. “You can’t handle the truth, and if I told you, you probably wouldn’t believe me.”
“Tell me anyway.”
This entire conversation makes me feel naked. Exposed. He knows what he was never supposed to know. I hop off his lap and stand up. “Why don’t you just tell me what you think since you don’t believe anything I say.”
“Stop fucking playing, Eve just say it. Tell me the truth.” He rises to his feet and stands close to me, his body heat unintentionally menacing.
“FINE. I love Antonio. I love him and hate him at the same time and I have no clue how to get over it. There’s your truth.” I want to cry. I want to curl up in a ball and cry.
Jahsynt flinches, recoils. “So you wanna be with him, then?” There is no question in his tone. He sounds so certain of something that he couldn’t possibly understand.
“No,” I say.
“Then what?”
“What do you mean, then what? Damn, Jahsynt! What do you want from me?”
“I just want you but I can’t have you if you still want him.”
I groan. “Jahsynt, it is not that simple.”
“Either you want me or you want him.”
“Oh my God, stop. Just fucking stop. Are you really that insecure?”
“Fuck you mean ‘insecure’?” His lips curl in disgust, like I just demeaned him in the worst way.
“Fuck this entire thing, Jahsynt. I’m sick of explaining myself to you. I’m sick of begging you to communicate with me. Fuck this, I’m tired.” Hurt and pissed, I begin to walk towards my backyard with heavy feet. Warm, salty tears tumble down my cheeks.
“Nah, tell me how I’m insecure.” I hear him behind me, getting closer.
“If you don’t understand it now, then you probably never will. I don’t understand you, and you don’t understand me. Maybe we should leave it that way.”
Silence. Literal crickets begin to sound, clicking and cutting through the silence. I wait for him to respond. Wait some more and then he finally does. “Is that what you want?”
“Is that what you want?”
He’s breathing heavily. “So it’s over?”
“If you want it to be.”
I guess he wanted it to be over, because he left.
*
I probably cried for an hour, now I’m trolling social media out of boredom and feelin empty. Instagram is devastating. A stream of personal tragedies; Tyrian and Genesis kissing outside our front porch. Aviva somewhere biting Antonio’s ear. Jahsynt makes a posts a picture of a remote on his kitchen counter next to a bucket of mint chocolate chip ice cream. The caption: Single again, ig… </3 with like, fifty likes and a whole bunch of girls in the comments saying that they can be his shoulder to cry on. Probably DM-ing him nudes and shit like that. If he’s the Jahsynt I know and still love, he won’t entertain groupies anytime soon. Just to be messy, I like the post and comment ‘me too’ with a sad face. I want to cry some more but maybe I’m out of tears. In an attempt to gauge even more sorrow, I go to Aviva’s page. The picture of her and Antonio has the caption “new bae or nah” and Antonio commented on it.
tonio_staysmashin: take this down.
viva_la_loca: why bae ?
tonio_staysmashin: im not your bae.
The shock hits me in a wave of relief, but I can just about feel her pain. That’s just like Antonio, to drop some shit on a girl by surprise. Hurt her in the height of happiness. So I’m just sitting there thinking about how I’m sick of being hurt and oppressed by boys. At first, it was because of a lack of self-love. Now, they just hurt me. I get the most awful consequences for loving people. I’d rather them get consequences for hurting me.
Not real sure what my motivation for this was, but I commented on Aviva’s picture in response to Antonio. Messy shit.
_eve: @tonio_staysmashin cold blooded bruh
With crying laughing emojies at the end.
tonio_staysmashin: lmao chill :*
with a kissy face emoji!! I’m appalled and shocked. Classic case of “no he didn’t!” My heart is racing for reason I am unsure of, so I decide it’s time to turn my phone off and try to sleep.