"I'm fucking stupid, I don't understand none of this," Khadijah bit her lip, staring at her math assignment in pure agony.
Ever since her last escapade, she'd eased off on the drinking and smoking. She was pretty proud of herself. She hadn't gone to a party in almost two weeks. Slowly but surely, she forced herself to go to school—honestly, just to give her something to do while her mother found work at a local hair salon as a receptionist. It was the first job she'd held in years after spending time as a stay-at-home mom. Khadijah was happy for her, except she just felt like the world's biggest fuck-up right now.
"You missed a lotta lessons, just try and work through at least the first page, ma," Arion told her, laying flat on his back on the edge of the bed, he scrolled through his phone with one hand, the other resting inside his pants.
"I've been sitting here for two hours," Khadijah whined, slamming her pencil down against her desk in frustration. Her teacher's gave her small assignments for her to catch-up, but with the amount of school she'd missed this semester, she was on the track of failing all her classes and landing in summer school. The thought of failing her classes upset her, but another part of her didn't care all too much—school was the furthest thing from her mind and she was itching for a blunt. That day had been particularly hard—the hardest day so far. She couldn't bare to leave her room, and Arion had been practically glued to her side all day to comfort her. "This shit feels so hopeless." She whispered.
"Don't say that," Arion said gently, sitting up on her bed. He tossed his phone onto the side of the bed with a sigh. "C'mere." He called to her, but Khadijah refused to move, her eyes were glued to the mountains of papers lining her desk and her textbooks that proved to be of no use to her. All she'd wanted to do was wallow in her sorrow and be pitiful. The numbers didn't make sense, and the new theories they were learning in her social sciences classes didn't align with her. If she was looking at this a few months ago, things would click for her almost instantly, and she wouldn't be stuck working on the same assignment for hours. It was a rude wake-up call, and it'd shown her just how much she'd fallen from grace.
She hated feeling like she was dumb.
All her good grades on tests and assignments were things she'd worked hard for—studied hard for, and now everything went downhill and her efforts amounted to nothing anyways.
Her high nineties were fifties and sixties now—summer school was inevitable.
"Come 'ere, Khadijah, don't make me have to get up and go get you."
With her head hung low, Khadijah reluctantly pushed herself off of her desk chair, the old thing squeaking as she moved. She padded towards him quietly, tugging her zip-up sweater higher on her shoulders. He stared up at her as she approached him, and she didn't know why she began tearing up as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. He pressed his chin against her stomach, looking at her pathetic face that seemed to always be marred with tears. Khadijah wanted to hide—she wanted to run away, but she knew Arion would never let her.
He wouldn't ever leave her alone by herself when she was like this.
She tucked her own chin against her chest, hands resting on his broad shoulders, fingers fidgeting anxiously.
"You too pretty to be crying, ma," he told her honestly, lips tugging downwards into a frown, "I know you overwhelmed and shit—you wanna take a break? Wanna get some food?"
"N-no, I'm good," she said with a sigh, leaning her weight against him, "I do wanna take a break though. I'm getting frustrated, and it's not helping me at all. I'on even know why I'm crying over this, it's not even that big of a deal, bro." She reached up with one hand and wiped her face quickly.
"I don't like seeing you sad." Arion stated, and she didn't really know how to respond to that. She was sad—about her dad, the state of her life—a multitude of things, really. It was out of Arion's control.
"You love playing captain save a hoe, huh?" Khadijah cracked a smile, shifting her hands to play with one of Arion's locs.
"Shut up," he muttered, but he was smiling too and Khadijah poked his face with her other hand absentmindedly, "wanna watch a movie then?"
"I don't have anything better to do," she shrugged, walking away to grab her laptop on her desk, turning off the lights in the process, "what do you wanna watch?"
"Marvel."
Khadijah rolled her eyes. Arion was the biggest nerd for the comics back when they were little, and she remembered that every year for his birthday, Jackie would buy him the latest Marvel movie on DVD as a keepsake—a collection he still had to this day. She acted irritated, but it was really cute to see how hyped up he got, choosing a movie off Disney Plus for them to watch. Her mother was working, but she'd be going out later on with Lauren and Jackie for a girls' day, meaning they'd have the apartment to themselves tonight.
He settled on Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, hooking up her laptop to her projector. She helped him turn it on, hearing the motor start-up as the lights blended together, cast onto the farthest wall of her room in front of them. Once the movie was going, Khadijah and Arion crawled back into her bed—she shucked off her zip-up, letting it drop to the floor with a loud clack as Arion pulled her to his side, eyes focused on the movie.
She enjoyed the Marvel movies herself, but it amused her seeing how concentrated Arion looked as he watched the movie play on her projector with fascination. Khadijah laughed at all the comedic parts, equally entranced by the action, but she spent most of her time watching Arion and admiring his face. His arm that was looped around her waist shifted, and she tilted her head up, raising an eyebrow as he palmed her ass, rubbing it soothingly.
Maybe they were too comfortable.
She wanted to say something; to ask what the hell they were really doing together, but she really didn't have the brain power, so she just dropped her head back down on his chest with a pout once he didn't acknowledge her. During movies, she was a talker—always commenting on scenes and adding her own sound effects; a fact she was really ashamed of, but Arion was tolerant of it—indulging her and explaining how the movies connected and what hidden symbols were placed to indicate what the next phase was and how it led up to Endgame. Khadijah didn't really know what the hell he was talking about, but she nodded along seriously because it mattered to Arion, and he'd been kind enough to share it with her.
"That old ass wrinkly bitch," Khadijah murmured, nose scrunching up as Ego revealed his true plans that involved manipulating Peter, "niggas ain't shit."
"Niggas ain't shit," Arion echoed with a laugh.
Eventually, the movie slowly started to lose its appeal because Khadijah knew how it ended having watched it already, so she propped herself up again, chin on Arion's chest. She stared at his face—noting his sharp jawline and big ass nose. Untangling her arms, she reached up, touching his face gingerly—gently prodding and poking his cheeks. She wanted to memerize everything about him.
"What you doing, pretty girl?" He asked her, eyes still focused on the movie.
"Nothing, I just—sorry, you want me to stop?" Khadijah retracted her hands sheepishly, but Arion just shook his head, jostling her body and pulling her up higher on his chest, so they were almost face-to-face.
Instantly, her heart was pounding in her chest.
Slowly, Arion pulled his eyes away from the movie, focusing on her and her alone as she laid on his chest, bodies pressed together. Suddenly, the air between them felt different—like the atmosphere just changed. It was as if time slowed down, and Khadijah let out a shaky breath, lips parting slightly.
His eyes flickered down to her mouth, and he took his time, tracing the features of her face before he slid his arm up, handcuffing the back of her neck. Arion pulled her closer—if that was even possible—giving her time to back off or push him away, but she didn't.
Khadijah didn't.
Instead, she just braced herself, eyes fluttering shut as Arion pressed their lips together tentatively. She wanted to laugh. Her first kiss was barely a kiss at all—just a slow, soft press of their lips, but she was partially grateful. Khadijah had never kissed a boy before.
Arion was her first.
The once gentle peck turned into something more as Arion put more passion into it, and Khadijah—having a mental breakdown on the inside—tried her best to respond as she possibly could. She mimicked what he did, gasping when she felt Arion's other hand fist itself into the material of her tank top. His tongue slid into her mouth and the kiss deepened even further. Khadijah felt like she was going to die.
Shit, why hadn't she learned this before? Done this before?
Something hard pressed against her stomach, and Khadijah felt a tingly sensation shoot straight down her body, making her hips bare down for some type of friction—anything.
She was thankful when Arion finally took mercy on her, breaking away—leaving her lips shiny and wet. His hand on her neck was a heavy reminder, and Khadijah was jittery—nerves on fire. Was he going to kiss her again? Did he want too?
They panted into each other's mouth, Khadijah blushed as Arion stared at her through half-lidded eyes. He moved to kiss her again, but the sound of his phone buzzing against her bed broke the spell and Arion let out a loud groan of frustration, one hand moving to tap her thigh. She threw her other leg over his body—no longer straddling him, giving him room to sit up and reach for his phone.
Arion squinted, looking at the screen of his cracked iPhone with narrowed eyes, reading the text message that popped up before he kissed his teeth. Khadijah got up off the bed, moving to the large mirror that rested above her dresser, pulling her shorts from the crack of her ass and fixing the tank top that Arion had stretched out to the point that her breasts threatened to spill out. Behind her, she heard Arion's phone start to ring and her bed squeaked as he, too, stood up. Khadijah twisted her body, resting her back against her dresser. Crossing her arms over her chest, she watched as Arion declined the call. He mussed his hair, grabbing his hoodie off the floor and pulling it on in one quick movement. He adjusted his pants, covering his little situation and Khadijah fought the urge to smirk a bit.
"I gotta go, mama, I'm sorry, I gotta handle sumn," he said to her, shoving his phone in his back pocket, "I'm not—"
"You good," Khadijah shook her head as Arion approached her. He stood close—a little too close to her as he pulled out the drawer next to her right thigh, grabbing his knock and tucking it back into the waistband of his pants. "You don't gotta explain shit to me." She corrected him. His face twisted up in a second before he let out a sigh, relaxing in an instant as he leaned against her body. The weight of his knock pressed into her stomach even through the layers and her breath hitched.
"I'ma come back, aight?" He whispered to her, eyes staring into her soul. It always seemed like Arion didn't just look at her—he saw through her. That's the way he was looking at her then. It unnerved her.
"Okay," she grumbled, feeling her face run hot as she looked off to the side stubbornly.
"Drop the attitude," he told her, chuckling, as he pushed himself off her.
"I don't have an attitude," Khadijah retorted, shifting her weight onto her right leg.
She totally did. She was failing her classes—couldn't even understand the simplest assignments. Her core was aching slightly and her first kiss—make-out session, whatever it was—got tanked because of one phone call. Plus, Arion had stretched out her tank top and now he was just leaving her high and dry. So, yeah—she had a little attitude.
"Yeah, whatever," he said, still chuckling as he opened her bedroom door, "I'ma lock the door behind me. Don't wait up."
"I wasn't going too," she mumbled under her breath, watching him leave out. Khadijah heard him shuffling around in the entryway way before the apartment door opened and closed, hearing the lock engage afterwards since her mother had given him the spare key. She stood there at her dresser, just processing the events of the night, before finally moving back to her bed and her rumpled sheets. She flopped down on her stomach, grabbing her phone off her nightstand. Her white wired earbuds were still plugged in—a gift from Kevin and she popped them into her ears, pressing play on Prom by SZA.
Shit just fucking sucked.
Khadijah groaned into her pillow.