She wanted my company, not my body.
That was massive progress, right?
So maybe, just maybe it's not about sexual attraction after all. She must like me for me.
Her wet hair was brushed back as she sat on the end of my bed wearing my t-shirt, just checking through her phone. She looked disappointed and I didn't want to ask her why purely because I didn't want to drag the mood down.
Our days here together were numbered and I have no idea what will happen after this. I had hoped to make her fall in love with me but I'm running out of time. Wanting my company though, that was a win.
"No word from my family." She muttered, explaining the look of disappointment even though I didn't ask.
"There's still time." She looked up at me and gave me a small smile of appreciation.
"They won't answer. They want me to turn up on their doorstep so they can trap me in with rules and regulations. I know they're like."
"And yet you still plan on going back." I mumbled to myself.
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
"See her?" She showed me her phone screen, it was an Instagram account and there was some African model on the screen wearing a big colourful bonnet thing on her head. "Note the three hundred people who have hearted this picture."
"Ok but why?"
"Check the comments." She scrolled down slowly and I read over her shoulder words like, 'god bless' or 'you bring many blessings to life.' Along with hundreds of compliments and well wishes.
"This is my cousin Zuri, she's a model living in Nigeria and has always been classed as very beautiful and successful. Up until around three months ago when the family disowned her."
"Why what happened three months ago?" Tia scrolled up with her thumb, quickly moving through many posed pictures of this girl.
"She posted this picture." The same girl was posing now with a man, they were cuddled up together and he was kissing her cheek. "What do you see?"
"A picture of a couple posing all cute for the camera?"
"No, it's us."
I squinted my eyes closer to the screen. "Damn, check me out! I look good with bangs!"
"Jordan can you ever be serious for five seconds?" She shook her head at me disapprovingly. "I see social demolition. I see a black girl announcing her relationship with a white man. I see someone abandoning her culture. I see how she no longer has any hearts on the photo. She no longer has an abundance of comments saying nice things about her.
I see how the pastors told her she was no longer welcome in their church. I see how the Nigerian model agencies dropped her. I see how her parents turned their backs on her. I see how the women called her a slut and talked bad about her. I see how the men no longer respected her. Look harder, don't you see us?"
She scrolled through the photos and sure, there was very much a lack of support from then on out but the girl kept posting. She kept moving forward in spite of the tragic fallout.
"I see a girl so in love with a man, she decided to be brave and risk it all for him. Are you saying that's us?"
"She risked it all and she lost."
"Did she?"
"She went from beautiful Nigerian gowns to jeans and cropped tops. She moved out of Africa to be with him. She lost her culture for him. Gave up her religion, forgot herself."
"I don't know, she looks happy. Those people who turned their backs on her, she's likely better off without them in her life."
"He changed her, he didn't understand her culture. The differences were too far apart to come together."
"Assumptions, judgements, you don't know their relationship. Your Instagram is extremely modest, you look like you're wearing your Sunday best on every photo. You dress in these African style outfits and reply to people like they're all from your church."
"Most of them are."
"Point is Tia, that's not who you are. I've seen you skimpier outfits to class than what you have on nights out. You've had your fair share of white dick, mine included. You hardly ever attend church on a Sunday and when you do I bet you've got a whole list of sins to be forgiven. Who you are at home, is who you're pretending to be."
"Who I am at home is who I aim to be."
"Is it? Because you would've literally gone to a refuge center just to avoid going home. You're not happy there. You're churning your gut waiting for them to contact you so they can make you feel bad about the first real thing you've done for yourself."
"You don't get it, I can't just turn my back on how I was raised."
"You're not so different from Zuri, she's just public about it."
She didn't like hearing that, probably because it's true and the truth hurts.
"I bet it would make a huge difference to her if you changed that heart from white to red. Show her that she's at least got one family member on her side."
"I can't do that."
"Sure you can. You just press on it." She gave me a look that told me I was being dumb.
"No, people will see that I've liked it and think badly of me."
I whispered, in my gremlin, 'tias conscience voice' "like the photo." She grimaced at me because I wasn't taking her seriously enough.
"No." She clicked the phone locked, indeed not liking the photo.
I stood up, hitting play the vintage CD radio thing my mom has in most of the rooms. Music quietly hummed out through retro static and I held my hand out requesting a dance from Tia.
She looked at it bewildered, "what?"
"Dance with me." Her eyes sparkled with excitement and she didn't hesitate to accept my invitation.
I placed one hand on the small of her back, unintentionally raising the T-shirt high up on her thigh and clasped her hand tightly with my other one.
With a confident smile, she began to move, her hips undulating in time with the rhythm of the music. Movements became more intricate, her arms and legs weaving in and out of each other as I took the lead.
"Where did you learn to dance like this?" Her body seemed to be in a constant state of motion, flowing seamlessly from one movement to the next.
"I come from money, remember? I had dance lessons pouring out of my asshole and many balls, galas, events to put those skills into practice."
"Such a lovely way with words." I spun her under my arm until she broke out in uncontrollable laughter.
Then I brought her in close, no more fancy dance moves, just the two of us, holding one another and swaying rhythmically.
"In a lot of ways I want this to stop but I also can never seem to say no." I felt my heart plummet into disrepair, but I didn't react, I only listened.
"I'm so heavily conflicted between my attraction and fear of the level of intensity growing between us."
"I feel the same way."
"I don't want to drown in the emotion attached to you but either way, I don't think I'll manage to survive the swim. If I pick you, I will forever lose them. If I pick them, they'll never accept you."
"Only you can make this decision."
You were the guy I imagined fucking without strings attached, even when I initially said it was a one time thing. In my heart, I knew it was more than that but our differences, they make huge impact on what our relationship would look like, I doubt it would work."
I pulled back to look at her. "Tia, if I love you - which I do, and if you love me, then there's no other reason why it wouldn't work. So, that leaves the question, Do you love me?"
She had watery eyes, filled to the brim with emotion. My heart was going to explode from anticipation. This could go either way. Good or bad, after tonight I will have a concrete answer.
An unexpected, extremely loud bang made us both jump out of our skin.
"What the hell was that?" She asked, alarm flashing through her face.
More bangs, crashing, shouting.
I raced to the door and looked down the hallway. My eyes widened when I came face to face with the ghostly figure of Olive. She had this guilty look written all over her face and winced anytime Liam caused another destructible sound.
"What is it?" Tia questioned from directly behind me. I knew something bad had happened.
"Olive." I replied, without taking my eyes off of her. When Tia popped her head out of the doorframe to take a look herself, there was perplexity in her green eyes as she stared back at us. We had been caught.
"Should I go talk to him?" She shook her head slowly.
"What's wrong with him?" Tia asked, still jumping at every noise.
Olive and I looked at one another, this was not new for us. Liam getting triggered and lashing out at everything around him. We knew he had problems he needed to work out, and many of them but neither one of us wanted to say that out loud.
"We had an argument." Olive clarified in a small voice she walked past us and returned to her own bedroom.
I closed our bedroom door slowly knowing I'd undoubtedly have to answer questions.
"Shouldn't you go in there? I mean, he sounds like he's trashing the place."
"It doesn't matter, there's no getting through to him when he's like this."
"He's like this often?" I didn't answer. "what's wrong with him?" I didn't answer that either. "What if he hurt her?"
"He didn't."
"How do you know?"
"He wouldn't." I sighed, "can we just go to sleep?"
"I wonder what they were arguing about, Reece maybe?"
I pulled back the duvet and pointed at the mattress. "Tia, sleep."
"Oh my god Jordan!" She slapped my arm. "She knows."
"Tia, get into bed." She began pacing the floor boards.
"She knows, shit."
"You were going to tell her tomorrow anyway."
"Me telling her is way different to her just finding out like that. How do you think she took it? What was her face like?"
"I don't know. She looked confused maybe but above all she just looked concerned and distraught about Liam. We're not a big priority to her right now, or probably ever."
"Do you think he'll be okay?"
"Of course he will, he has me." I gave her a small smile but if I'm being completely honest, even I doubted myself.
The boy needs therapy.