Sunday, April 24th, 2016
Bey's POV
"Good morning, church." Pastor said. It felt so good to be in church after countless weeks of being confined to that hospital room and physical therapy facility! To be able to wear this burgundy choir robe along wit' everyone else was the best feelin'. A feelin' that I haven't felt in a long time. Today is my first time singin' in months, but I trust God and I trust my voice. I know each song very well, so I didn't need the rehearsal.
"Good morning." We all replied.
"Uh.. I said good morning!" He repeated, wantin' us to be louder.
"Good morning!" I can't see his face, but I'm pretty sure pastor is smilin'. It brought a smile to my face. This really feels good!
"On today I want to talk to you about this- I have a story for you all. As many of you know, we've had Beyoncé on our prayer list." My eyes widen as soon as I heard my name. Oh no! I didn't he was serious about usin' me as an example!
"I've been saying 'pray for her, pray for her'." He spoke softly. "For those of you that do not know, she was shot in a drive by. Her shoulder was fractured. She no longer has a spleen because it was ruptured by the bullet and removed in surgery. The bullet in her back was only an inch a way from her spinal cord. She was extremely close to being paralyzed from the waist-down. Beyoncé had some much nerve damage, that she was not able to walk without falling."
I looked around as everyone that wasn't aware of my condition gasped and shook their heads at the devil's doings.
"When me and my wife visited her in the hospital," Pastor continued. "she was feeling so many different emotions. She felt discouraged! We told her to pray and keep her faith in the Lord. Give it to him!"
Everyone agreed as they clapped.
"After a few weeks, she started her physical therapy. The doctors told her that even with the therapy she will always walk with a limp because there was so much nerve damage. They told her that she will never play basketball ever again." I heard a few loud gasps. I'm really on the spot right now. Oh my Gosh!
"But the Bible says! In Philippians's four thirteen! I can what?" He said wantin' us to finish the scripture.
"Do all things through Christ who strengthens me!" Everyone said loudly then clapped right away.
"All things!" Pastor exclaimed. "With Christ! He doesn't put more on us than we can bare!"
I smiled while some people clapped and shouted "Amen."
"He doesn't give us more than we can handle!" He added and everyone clapped, agreein' wit' him.
"Let me tell how good God is- I can show you better than I can tell you." Pastor turned to me as called me over to him. By God's good graces, I was able to walk outta the choir stand and down to the Pastor wit'out my crutches, cane or wheelchair. I didn't stumble, shake, or wobble. I can walk, and I swear I can walk better than I was prior to bein' shot.
Five days a week, I endured what I considered to be the most intense physical therapy ever. I worked so incredibly hard! I worked harder than I did on the basketball court. I literally shed a little blood and tons of sweat. By the end of every single session, my body was covered in my sweat. My clothes were drenched. I sweated so much that I wasn't able to separate the sweat from my tears. I was only allowed to cry the first day. Valeree really wasn't havin' my tears. There were days when I wanted to say "forget this!" and just quit, but Valeree wouldn't let me.
I'm forever grateful and blessed that she was my physical therapist. She pushed me so hard every single second of every single day. It came of as a "hard ass", but I needed it. She gave me nothin' but tough love but constantly reminded me of the end result. Just like Shawn and Pastor, she didn't care what the doctor said. I was goin' to walk and play college ball! And be better than I ever was!
The doctors and some nurses called me a "miracle". Because my wounds healed faster than they've ever witnessed. I wasn't supposed to walk normally after this. I took so well to the therapy and workouts, and accordin' to them, I wasn't supposed to. Especially not in the amount of time that it took. Usually, it takes up to six months for a full, healthy recovery. But every case is different. Not everyone has a Valeree. Not everyone prays like I do and not everyone works as hard as I do.
"Praise God!" I heard someone up front shout. I just smiled as everyone stood to their feet and cheered and gave God thanks They were all so happy for me, it was overwhelmin'. My eyes filled tears as I looked at everyone. I thought about what I had been through these past few months. Finally tellin' my brother about my abuse, insane physical therapy, missin' my first love- basketball, bein' in that cold hospital. I just couldn't believe that I was finally outta there, healthy and walkin'!
"You better walk, Beyoncé! Yas!" I heard Riley, from the choir shouted. I know it was nobody but her goofy self. I laughed as I wiped my eyes.
"Can I tell you how good God is?" Pastor asked.
"All the time!"
"Tomorrow Beyoncé is playing in her first game since this all happened, so if you can make it, please do show up and support this young lady. Where's the game?"
"Crenshaw."
"What time?"
"Six thirty." I smiled.
"Can you dunk yet, Ms. Maya Moore?"
"Not yet, but give me a few more weeks, and I'm Candace Parker." I said seriously and everyone laughed. I'm dead ass. I'm gonna be dunkin' at USC. For real for real!
"You ready to sing?"
"Yezzzir." Everyone laughed. Pastor shook his head then handed the mic to me. I walked back to my spot in the choir.
"Nooo weapooon foormed againstt meee shaaall prospeeeeER, iiit won't wooork. Nooo weapooon formed against meeeee shaAAAAll prospeeer, it won't wooork." I sang. Their choir joined in the second time. They sang the bottom, I sang the top.
"God will dooo what He say He would do. He will stand by His wooord. And He will come throooough, yeaaaah. God will do what He say He would do. He will stand by His word. And He will come through."
I led the choir in Cover Me by 21:03, Kirk Franklin's Hosanna, Marvin Sapp's Praise Him In Advance, Yolanda Adam's The Battle Is The Lord's, Tasha Cobbs' Fill Me Up. When praise and worship was over, the praise dancers did an amazin' job, Solange included. The service was nice, no surprise there. Pastor preached about how we need to stop askin' for stuff, and just wait on the Lord. He explained the difference between prayin' and askin'. Like every other pastor, he didn't stay on one topic.
I received so many hugs along wit' "congratulations" and "I'm proud of you". It was really nice. Then there was the nosy people that just wanted to know more about me bein' shot.
"Hey, Bey!" I heard from behind me. I turned around to see one of the few people that I've grown to be really cool wit' over the past weeks, Amari. The guy I just recently reconnected wit'. We've known each other from age of five to maybe thirteen or fourteen. We didn't go to the same school but Church, clearly. We were in the same Sunday school class and the youth music group. I had a goofy crush on him back then but he randomly disappeared. He came back and looked like a totally different person.
It wasn't just Amari that I've gotten kinda close to lately. Riley, and Denise, too. I'm not super close wit' them, but I like them. They've all come to visit me and at least one, sat in durin' my session. A few times, they all came together. We just reminisced on the good ole times in Sunday school as children and in the early teenage years. It really lifted my spirits higher. While they all came to see me, Amari's name appeared on my visitor's list more than Riley and Denise.
I smiled "Hi!" Simultaneously, we opened our arms for a hug.
"Church hug, church hug." He said jokingly as if we were tryin' to mask something inappropriate. I rolled my eyes at his goofiness and giggled. It was funny to me because we were actually in church.
"I just wanted to personally say that I'm happy that you're heathy, again." He said. This was the second time he's said this. Now he was just playfully mockin' himself.
"Thank you, again." I giggled.
"You're welcome." He smiled, makin' me smile. "You stickin' around?"
"Um, no." I briefly thought about it. "Probably gonna get some food. I don't know where, though."
He looked at me oddly. "You know Sister Fletcher is cookin', right?" He chuckled.
My eyes and ears perked at that. "Yeah no, for suuuure. I'm stickin' around."
Just like I said I would, I hung out for a minute wit' Solange, Amari, Denise, Riley, and the rest of the church members that stuck around to talk and eat.
"So, what are you 'bout to get into?" Amari asked as we were all headin' to the parkin' lot.
"I have to drop my sister at my Aunt's house. What about you?"
"You're not stayin' at your Aunt's?" He curiously asked.
"Maybe for a little bit. Say hi and see how she and my Uncle are doin', then I'm goin' home."
"Oh." He nodded his head. "You wanna hang out..?" Timidly he asked. "If you don't wanna be in the house. We could go get some ice cream, hit the mall- or something."
"I have nothing to do. Why not." I joked. "We can get Green Crush and Cinnabon!" Green Crush was probably my favorite spot in the mall includin' every clothin' and shoe store. It was a fresh fruit drink spot. It's basically freshly cut fruit in sweet ice water. Bad description but it's God sent and it's only four dollars for a large cup.
"Coo wit' me." I said my goodbyes to everyone and left wit' Solange. We went home for a short amount of time. She needed to get extra clothes. Apparently her and Ingrid are hangin' out with some of their friends. I had to change my clothes because these heels gotta go! I'm not walkin' around the mall wearin' them. As I was pullin' my shirt over my head, I heard my Mom call my name. I frowned because I didn't even know that she was home. Her car wasn't in the driveway, and neither was Tim's, so I figured they were out. I don't know why their cars are missin', but I won't wreck my brain tryna figure it out, either. Anything is possible wit' these two. Plus, it's not my business. I have my car, so that's all that matters.
"What?" I questioned when my Mom walked in my room wit'out knockin'. Thank God I had pulled my shirt over my head in time. Ignorin' the fact that she gave birth to me, she should still knock.
"Don't answer me what, girl." My Mom lowkey snapped and I just rolled my eyes.
"You keep rollin' those eyes, and you won't have any."
"What do you need?" I asked gettin' annoyed wit' her presence.
"Twenty dollars." Tim answered walkin' in.
Um, what the hell..? Why do they askin' me for money? Usually it's my Mom that askin' for money. If Tim is askin' then it must be serious. Ain't shit changed wit' these two. It was nice to have "parents" for the short time when they tried to "turn it around". But they slipped back into their neglectin' habits. I expected it, so it didn't upset me that much. If me bein' abused didn't open their eyes, if me bein' shot didn't open their eyes- nothin' will.
"Are you serious?" I questioned wit' the straightest face.
"Yes!" My mom said hungrily causin' my straight face to form a frown. "Can I borrow twenty dollars?"
"Borrow? How are you.." I paused because I know that she can't and won't pay me even if she could.
"I don't have twenty dollars." I told her calmly.
"Yes you do." Tim said for a matter of fact. Why does he have an attitude?
I frowned at him. "Excuse me? How are you goin' to tell me what I have?"
"How do you keep gas in your car then?"
Instantly, anger took over my entire being. I didn't want to be angry after church, but I couldn't help it. This man was questionin' me just because I decided not to waste my money on their shit. Don't question me, especially when it doesn't concern you in any shape, way, or form.
"Why are you worried about gas that's in my car? Why are you mindin' my business?"
Tim sucked his teeth. "Do you have it or not? I'm not about to go back and forth wit'chu lil girl."
"Then don't!" I exclaimed growin' angrier by the second. "If you had a damn job, you wouldn't have to ask me for anything."
"Tina, get your daughter." Tim said before he walked outta my room.
"You didn't have to do that." My Mom said and I rolled my eyes again.
"You don't have to do a lot of things, but you do them anyway." Like drugs for one. She allowed this man to get her hooked whatever drug he's on. I can't say that I'm surprised. I'm not. This type of shit happens everyday. I just didn't think it would be my Mom.
"Beyoncé, look.." She said disregardin' what I just said. "I need twenty dollars."
"For what, Mom?" I questioned. "Why do you need twenty dollars?"
"For some bills." She stammered nervously.
"Twenty dollars for bills? Which bill?"
"You know... the cable bill?" She said unsure of herself but still hoped that I'd give in. I wasn't goin' to, though. I knew exactly why she wanted money. If it were for a bill, she'd need way more than twenty dollars. I'm not feedin' her addiction.
"The cable is gonna get cut off. Twenty dollars isn't gonna do anything."
"Then can I have more?" She started scratchin' her neck aggressively. As much as I don't like my Mom, I hate seein' her like this. It's only gettin' worse as the days go by. It breaks my heart. I don't understand how she functions when her daycare is open. Those poor kids deserve so much more!
"Mom. You need to go to rehab." I sadly suggested.
"I don't need to no damn rehab! What's wrong wit'chu?" She snapped.
"What's wrong wit' me?! I'm not the one wit' the problem!"
"I don't have a fuckin' problem!!"
"Yes you do! You have a drug problem!"
"A drug problem? Why are you makin' shit up in your head?"
"Stop makin' it seem like I'm crazy! Your husband- or whatever he is got you hooked on drugs! I'm not stupid! I know a drug addict when I see one!!"
"I'm ya mother! Don't raise ya voice at me!"
"Are you?!" Frownin', I snapped. "You haven't done anything to prove that!"
"You still have a roof over your head. Be grateful." She nonchalantly said wit' a roll of her eyes. I'm so fuckin' fed up wit' this damn lifestyle and her thinkin' she's somebody. She thinks I owe her something because she kept a roof over my head? She can kiss my ass!
"Be grateful for whaat?! What do we have to be grateful for?!"
"Hey!" I heard Tim say. "You don't talk to yo mama like that!"
"Who the hell are you to tell me what to do?!" I yelled. "Is your name on my birth certificate?! No! You're a step parent! Know your role, nigga!"
"Who took care of you when your dad died? [Me]!"
"Don't bring my Dad into this!!!" I yelled angrily. "You stopped 'takin' care of me a long time ago! You wanna call yourself a parent?! You ain't shit! Both of y'all ain't shit!"
"Watch ya mouth!" My Mom said and I whipped my head in her direction.
"Watch your nose! Or is it the vein?" I sarcastically. That was fucked up, but oh well. Not nearly as fucked up as the way she treats us. My Mom's eyes widen in horror. She immediately lifted her hand and slapped me across the face hard. Drugs gave her that strength and power.
That shit hurt but I didn't allow the stingin' pain to stop me from instantly ballin' my fist and punchin' her in the left eye. She stumbled a little bit and I leaped towards her, pushin' her down on the floor. I sat down on top of her wit' all of my weight. She swung at me wit' her left but only grazed my chin. We tussled and wrestled all over my bedroom, tryin' to get the upper hand. I knew some of my shit was fallin and breakin'. I felt someone tuggin' my shirt and pullin' on me. They yelled something but I couldn't focus enough to actually hear it.
Finally, I had the upper hand again. This time I was gonna keep it. I did. She hit my cheek, but I didn't let it phase me. I remembered every single thing she's done to me lately. Everything she did and didn't do. It made me even more mad! I sent punches to her face, one right after thee other.
Suddenly, I was roughly yanked off of her and placed on my feet. Who the fuck.. Tim! I could barely breathe but I was ready smack the fuck outta him for pullin' me off. Solange grabbed my arms from behind, holdin' me back. When did she even come in here?
"All I wanted was twenty dollars." She said as blood dripped from her face. If Solange didn't have a fuckin' death grip on my arms, I'd deck her in her face again. But, her grip just might be a good thing because I can't breathe right now.
"Are you fuckin' serious?!" Solange shouted. With no care in the world, Tim and Tina walked outta the room. As I was catchin' my breath, I looked around the room that was now destroyed a little bit. I really didn't care for the broken vanity mirror or lamp. As long as my trophies weren't damaged, it's all good.
I walked over to my mirrored closet to look at my face. She slapped me so hard. Her hand print marked my face. It's already startin' to swell. Curse my easily bruised light skin. My other cheek was actually bleedin' because her nails broke the skin. Damn, that's gonna leave an ugly scar or mark. I had a busted lip, too. But this shit is mirror compared to Tina's face.
"Are you okay?" Solange softly asked.
"Yeah, I'm good." After I cleaned my face, Solange helped me put my room back in order. We threw anything that was broken in the dumpster. When we finished, I laid up in my bed replayin' the whole thing 'til I got hungry. I went to the kitchen and made a simple sandwich and grabbed a small bag of chips.
"Why you still here?" I heard as I was eatin' at the table. I looked to see Tina frownin' at me.
"What?" I asked not knowin' what the fuck she was talkin' about.
"I said.. why are you still here?"
"Same reason you are, 'cause I live here."
"Says who?" She raised her right eyebrow.
I narrowed my eyes at her. "What'chu mean?"
"You don't live here anymore." She told me. Honestly, I didn't see that comin' but I'm not trippin'. I hate it here anyway.
"Aight, cool." I said then took another bit of my sandwich. She doesn't have to tell me twice. As soon as I'm finished eatin', we'll be on our way out.
"You're too grown to live here."
"I'll leave when I finish eatin'."
"You can leave now." She said wit' an attitude.
I just nodded my head tryin' to compose myself. "Oh, for sure."
"You thought you could stay after the shit you pulled downstairs?" I frowned so hard.
"The shit I pulled?" I questioned. "That was you! You started that shit. You thought that you could slap me and not get slapped back?"
"You don't raise yo hands at me!" She yelled. "I'm yo mama!"
"Yeah, barely."
"Get up outta here, Beyoncé. You too grown to live with me. You don't give me money to pay a damn bill-"
"Miss me wit' that shit!" I waved her off. "You're high right now! You thought I was gonna support your habit? Hell nah."
"Ain't nobody high, girl! You think you're grown enough to talk back to me and fight me-"
I didn't fight you. I whooped yo ass.
"I don't think I'm anything, but you can't slap me and think I'ma just sit there and be coo. You hit me and I'ma hit yo ass back." I don't care who you are. An old Granny, a man, a boy, Auntie, teacher, pastor- whoever! Don't touch me. Don't put your filthy hands on me, especially my face! I don't care who you are or what you think you've done for me. Talk all the shit you want, but if you hit me, I'm hittin' you back.
"You lucky she doesn't press charges on you." Tim said as if someone was talkin' to him.
"First of all, nigga, nobody was talkin' to you!"
"But I'm talkin' you!" He said takin' a step towards the table. "Disrespect-"
"No, you're really not. Shouldn't you be somewhere stuffin' your nose!? And I don't care if you press charges! Do it! Please! Let the cops see how we live! Tell them about how you leave your daycare kids unattended for only God knows how many hours! Go ahead! Take those kids outta their misery. Do it."
Tina couldn't really say shit. She just stood there lookin' stupid and pathetic. Sorry excuse for a woman and mother.
"Well! Ain't no 'we' anymore, 'cause you leavin'." She said.
"Don't even worry, we'll be outta your life in twenty minutes."
"And your sister is stayin' here."
I never frowned so hard in all of my life. Over my dead body. I would never in my life leave my sister wit' this lady. Is she stupid? Oh, well, she is on drugs, so.
"I know how you feigns operate when you're desperate for a fix. She's not stayin' here wit' you two. I think the fuck not."
"She's not goin' anywhere like I said." Tina said as I was throwin' my stuff in the trash can.
"Why do you even want her to stay?" I pressed. "Huh? It's not like you pay any attention to her. You don't make sure she's had something to eat! She's not even here half of the time and you don't notice! You don't care about her! The only person care about is your fuckin' self! Actually, nah. If you cared for yourself, you wouldn't be like this."
I brushed passed her and headed downstairs to Solange's room. Her door was cracked so I just opened it completely. "Do you still have those Nike bags?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Pack them as much as you can because we're leavin'."
"Leavin'? Where are we goin'?"
"Outta here."
"Okay, but where?"
"Can you just do what I said? Quickly as possible." I asked gettin' annoyed wit' all the questions.
"Okay, fine." She held her hands in surrender then got up from her bed to pack. I went to my room to do the same thing. I had duffle bags, laundry baskets, and a big rectangular blue bin. All filled wit' clothes, shoes, daily hygiene product, anything really important! I had made that I had it all. We loaded my car wit' our stuff as fast as we could.
"Are we comin' back?" Solange asked when I started the car. I didn't even know where we were goin' but I pressed my foot down on the gas.
"Not unless it's to get the rest of our stuff."
"Are we leavin' because you fought Mama?"
"Yeah."
"Are we goin' to Darian's house?"
"No."
"Then where are we goin'?" I ignored her mainly because I had no fuckin' idea where. She was firin' questions at me and I was tryin' to think! I know that we've spent nights at Matt's house, but this is different. I don't know if Mrs. G would open her door for us permanently. She had two bedrooms, that's it. Not only that, but it's a lot to take on.
Then there's my brother, but what is he gonna do from Las Vegas? I'm not leavin' my senior year to live wit' him. Hell no.
I could call Auntie Pat and Uncle David, but I don't know. They're not even blood relatives. I know they care but to allow us to live wit' them? I don't know. I'm not tryna be a burden to anyone.
"Bey!" She called, growin' tired of me ignorin' her.
"What?" I glanced over at her.
"Where are we gonna live now?"
"Are you hungry?" I asked disregardin' her question.
She sighed. "Yeah."
I just drove 'til I saw a Wendy's. I could have pulled into the drive thru, but I needed to sit, focus and think about my next move. We stood in the somewhat long line of people not knowin' what they wanted to eat. We finally ordered, and surprisingly it didn't take long to receive it.
"So if we're not goin' to Darian's house, then where?" Solange asked again.
"I'll call Matt and see if he's home."
"Do you think Auntie Tracy will let us live there?" We usually called his mom Ms. G, but lately Solange has been callin' her Auntie. She didn't mind, hell- she might've suggested it just like Auntie Pat. Both of them truly felt like my blood aunts. Especially Matt's mom, because me and him were just like siblings.
"I don't know, Solange."
"We stay some nights over there but live?There's not even enough space for us. What about Auntie Pat?"
"Just eat. Let me worry about it."
"Are you gonna tell Darian?"
"Not right now." I shook my head. If I call my brother and tell him, he's just gonna make us go to Vegas wit' him. That's not what I want. I'm not leavin'. I just recovered and I'm playin' in my first game tomorrow. I'm stayin' in LA.
"Why not?"
"Can you just eat before it gets cold and nasty?"
"Maybe he could get us an apartment or something?" Yeah, right.
I have money saved and I could get an apartment but I don't work. I don't have check stubs to prove that I can afford to pay rent. I wasn't gonna go back to drugs to get the money and I wasn't gonna ask Big L for anything like I said I would before I got shot.
"Well, is it true?" Solange asked.
"Is what true?"
"Mama. Is she really on drugs?"
"Yes."
"How do you know?"
"I know a drug addict when I see one."
"But what makes you so sure?"
"Solange." I just looked at her. Why can't she just eat and hush? Take my word for it and let it go!
"What? I'm just askin'. How?"
"Because I used to deliver drugs, okay? She's a drug addict. I know it's hard to believe, but she's stupid." I rolled my eyes.
"Bey.." Solange called in shock.
"I had to take care of us, so I did the only thing I knew. It was quick and easy. Pick the drugs up, drop them off and get paid." I briefly explained.
"Is that why you got shot?"
"No. I don't think I was the intended target." Solange finally stopped askin' questions. I didn't know how or what she felt about now that I've confessed, but she was quiet and eatin'.
I called Matt and gave him a run down of what happened. He wasn't even shocked, because he figured that it was bound to happen one of these days. Auntie Tracy took the phone from Matt and told me to come over as soon as we finished eatin'. And we did.
"Thanks, Bey." Solange said once I parked in front of her house. I bet Auntie Tracy parked in her driveway just so I could park here.
"For what?" I frowned. Is she really thankin' me for the Wendy's? I always make sure she has food. That's my duty as a big sister.
"For bein' a great big sister."
"No reason to thank me. Come on." I unlocked the door and we both stepped out. Matt's door opened and Ms. G came out. She must've been sittin' on the couch, lookin' out for us.
"My goodness, Bey. Your face." She examined my cut and bruise.
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine." She held my chin and looked at my lip. "What did you clean it with?"
"Just water." I shrugged my shoulders.
"You bring yaself in here and get this cleaned properly." While Matt and Solange brought the stuff inside the house, I was sittin' on the toilet gettin' my face cleaned by Ms. G. I felt like a six year old kid sittin' there. She cleaned the cut on my face and put a something on it. I guess it was to prevent scarrin'.
"What happen?" She asked. "What caused this?"
"I just couldn't take it anymore, so I snapped and she hit me. They left, came back, and told me to get out." Ms. G just shook her head.
"Have you talked to your brother?"
"Not yet."
"Are you goin' to?"
"Yeah, once I figure out what I'ma do."
"Figure out what you're gonna do?" She questioned, raisin' her brow.
"Yeah, I just need a few days, and I'll have something."
"What you're going to do is stay here." She told me.
"It's okay. We'll be alright-"
"Beyoncé, where are you going to do? Hm? Live out of a hotel? You don't have any money for that. So then what, a shelter? Your car? Bounce from couch to couch? I don't think so." Against my will, my head dropped and hung low. I tried my hardest not to cry, but it was inevitable. This shit sucks. I just got over one issue now I'm bein' smacked wit' another. I'm just tryna play basketball and graduate high school- not deal wit' all this extra shit!
"If you don't want to go with your brother in Vegas. I'm sure you don't since it's your last year. You and Solange can stay here. Not just for a nights, but for good- well until you leave for college. But even then, this home will be yours. Okay?"
"Okay." I sniffled. Ms. G pulled me into the tightest, warmest hug and it felt so good. When we pulled back, I thanked her then went to Matt's room. The three of us organized our stuff as we brought it inside.
I felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket. I pulled it out to see a text message from Amari.
Received from Amari: Are we still good for later on?
Sent to Amari: Actually, can we postpone it? It's not a good time right now.
Received from Amari: Of course. Is everything okay?
Sent to Amari: I'm not sure.
Why didn't I just say yeah? I'm such an idiot! I hope he doesn't ask any questions.
Received from Amari: If you wanna talk, we can.
Sent to Amari: Are you still coming to my game tomorrow?
Received from Amari: Yeah, no doubt. 6:30!right?
Sent to Amari: Yeah.
Received from Amari: Alright. Feel better. I'll see you tomorrow.
Sent to Amari: thanks.
I really didn't know what to say other than what I did. I guess there wasn't much I could say. The only person I wanted to talk to right now was Shawn. I went to the recent calls list and scrolled down to his name. I stared at him, contemplatin' on whether I'd actually press it. I knew that he wouldn't answer, and if he did, he would just say "let me call you back" for whatever reason. That's what it's been lately. He's always busy doin' something. The universe just wouldn't let us have a conversation for more than five minutes. It was either his dad, his siblings, school, basketball.
I rolled my eyes at the thought and just tossed my phone on Matt's bed.