I’m Not Scared
He loved her.
Justin was surprised by the amount of peace that overwhelmed him when he thought about the love his heart held and smiled at the butterflies that fluttered in his stomach when he stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror and practiced telling her about how he felt.
She was it. This love was it. He was sure of it. Alonsha Claire Daniels had his heart from the Gap to now and he was no longer afraid to admit that. Their history was far from picture perfect, but Justin didn't mind the smudges. He actually admired the fact that despite everything they've gone through, they were still here.
"So. . . you're gonna tell her?" Trace asked, flipping through a deck of cards aimlessly as he sat comfortably on the edge of Justin's king sized bed. Justin continued to fix the collar of his pastel blue button up shirt as he nodded.
"Yeah," he vocally confirmed, "I'm gonna tell her." He stopped fiddling with his collar long enough to ruffle his short, curly hair before turning to the side and checking himself out. Trace laughed and shook his head at his friend.
"Stop worrying about the way you look," Trace smiled, "You need to get your lines straight."
"Eh. . ." Justin grunted, "My line is 'I love you', so my looks are gonna be important too."
"Do you really think Alonsha's gonna crumble at your feet because you bumped your curls?" Trace asked.
"No," Justin pouted, "I just. . . I'm nervous, man."
"Why?" Trace put down the deck of cards beside him, "You already know she loves you."
"No, I don't," Justin argued, "What if she changed her mind?"
"Come on, Jay. . ."
"Seriously," Justin whined, "It's been way over two months. Who's to say that she doesn't already have a boyfriend?"
"She doesn't have a boyfriend," Trace sighed.
"Oh my god, what if she has a boyfriend?" Justin frowned as he slumped over on his bureau, "I'm so stupid for waiting this long. . ."
"She doesn't have a boyfriend!" Trace repeated, "Stop doing this to yourself. Get your ass up and get your girl." Justin slowly stood and made a sour face at his reflection.
"Can you get her for me?" Trace narrowed his eyes at Justin's reflection and Justin smiled softly. "I'm being a chick, ain't I?"
"No, you're being a whiny bitch, but call it whatever you want," Trace told him, "And you look fine, so stop looking at yourself."
"I can't help it," Justin said, finally tearing himself from the mirror and walking over to his sneaker-filled closet.
"Why?" Trace asked, "'Cause you're a cocky bastard?"
"Ha. Ha."
"Loosen up," Trace smirked, "You're about to get back the love of your life."
"Hopefully," Justin mumbled as he rumanged through his shelves of Nikes.
"Don't be like that," Trace said.
"Like what?" Justin paused his sneaker search. "Realistic?"
"No," Trace answered, "Stop being a dickwad."
"You're a dickwad," Justin childishly shot back.
"No, I'm pretty sure it's you."
"Fuck you, man. Fuck. You." Trace laughed.
"No, no, no," he said, "Fuck Alonsha. Fuck. Alonsha." Justin rolled his eyes but laughed.
"Don't say that."
"Why not?" Trace asked, "We can make it your. . . goal. Think about all the great sex you'll be havin' if you get her back." Justin smiled and shook his head as he spotted his white Nike Airs and grabbed them.
"You're terrible," he told his friend, "But I guess that's not such a bad idea. I guess I could have that as my. . .motivation."
"Yes, my friend. Motivation." Justin chuckled as he sat on the floor and slipped on his sneakers. He paused as he was tying one of his shoes and stared at a spot on the floor.
"But what if. . ." He sighed, "I'm just saying. . . What if things have changed?" Trace rolled his eyes.
"Justin, don't make me walk over there and-"
"Okay, okay," Justin smiled, "I'm sorry." He finished lacing his sneakers and stood from the floor. He caught a view of his reflection through the corner of his eye and sighed.
This was it. He was going to tell her.
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I'm sprawled out across my bed and staring up at the ceiling. My room is bright from the afternoon sun and my stereo is playing a SWV song from way back when and I want to sing along, but don't. I'm just too sad.
I'm sitting in my room
Thinking back on you. . .
Today was a good day considering that it was beautiful outside, the AC was working, Tiffany wasn't annoying me, and I didn't have to go into work today, but now I'm bored and lonely with absolutely nothing to do. Tiff was out with Scott. Al and Marky were at the park with Farah. Bosco was sleeping soundly in the kitchen. I didn't feel like calling up any aquintances and having an awkward conversation before giving up on going out and saying I just was checking up on them.
Memories pass. . .
I wanted Justin.
Not in some sexual way. . . Well, maybe, but even if there wasn't sex, I'd want him. I just need him here, bouncing on my bed or painting my toe nails. I want to run my hands through his hair and giggle when the stubble on his face brushes against my cheek. I wanted his mind, body, and soul. I wanted his love and company. I wanted his friendship.
My head was leaned against your face
Partly on your shoulder, curving your neck. . .
Was that too much to ask?
I guess it was since he couldn't even give me a simple phone call. A letter. A something to let me know he's okay and doesn't hate me completely. I missed his smile. I wanted to hear his laugh, even if he was laughing at me. I needed to feel his warm skin up against my own and breathe the air he breathed to know that we were okay.
I tried to clear my thoughts of stress. . .
"Stop doing this to yourself, girl. . ." I whispered to myself before closing my eyes and heaving a sigh. The music of my stereo was interrupted by the sound of my apartment buzzer. I groaned and dragged myself from my bed, wondering who that could be since nobody called and said they would be over.
But then again, who ever calls anymore?
"Yeah?" I asked into the intercom as I tiredly rested my forehead against the door.
"Um. . . is this Alonsha?" I furrowed my brows at the somewhat familiar voice.
"Who's this?" I could feel a sour face form on my face as I waited for a response.
"It's Cameron." My stomach knotted up in shock and disbelief.
"Cameron who?"
"Diaz," she sighed, annoyed, "I wanted to talk to you."
"Talk?" I asked.
"Yes, talk." I hesitated and thought it over. She could be downstairs with a knife, ready to shank me, but than again, she could be telling the truth.
"Okay." I buzzed her up and backed away from the door. I turned my head when I heard the sound of Bosco's pacing feet. He walked up to me and tilted his head to side, as if he were asking me a question. I shrugged my shoulders and he sat by the door, waiting with me. The only sound with Bosco's heavy panting until Cameron's gentle tapping on my door rang in my ears. I took in a deep breath before unlocking the door.
A small, seemingly fake, smile was plastered across Cameron's face when I opened the door. Bosco stood, alert and cautious.
"Hi," Cameron greeted. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked her over quickly. She was radiant, as usual. Her choppy blond hair glowed and her skin was naturally tanned. Her eyes were as sea-foam green as I remembered and her simple mini skirt and tank combo looked like a Versace gown on her.
"Hey," I said dryly. Her smile flattered momentarily before she took notice of Bosco beside me. She knelt down to his level and rubbed her head. Bosco wagged his tail approvingly and I immediately thought 'traitor'.
"So," Cameron began, finally standing up straight and walking further into my apartment, "This is your. . . home?" I slammed the door shut and turned around to look at her glance around the living room.
"Yes, this is my home," I confirmed.
"It's cozy." I fight back the urge to snort at her lame attempt to compliment and insult me all at once and roll my eyes.
"Is there something you want, Cameron?" It came out a bit rude, but she was the last person I ever wanted to see and her beating around the bush nonsense was irking the hell out of me.
"Actually, there is," she replied, finally looking me straight in the eyes. I looked at her expectantly and she sighed. "Can we take a seat?" I wanted to say 'no', but I directed her to my sofa instead. She sat down with a plop and I sat about twenty feet away from her. Bosco had made his way into the kitchen to eat the food I had put in his bowl earlier, leaving me and her alone.
For a moment, we sat there silently. Cameron played with her keys and I stared at her the entire time. "Is there going to be a conversation anytime soon?" I asked impatiently. She chuckled to herself lightly.
"Yeah. . . I just don't know how to say this," she told me, "I don't even think I want to."
"Then come back when you do," I said, already standing. Cameron reached out and took hold of my arm.
"No, no," she said, "I need to say this now." I reluctantly took my seat again and crossed my arms over my chest.
"Okay," I told her, "Say it."
"Well, I actually wanted to apologize." I almost laughed. In fact, I giggled a little.
"Cameron, please," I said dismissively, "I don't want it unless you mean it."
"I do mean it," she argued, "Look, I'm sorry, okay?"
"For what?" I asked, already envisioning a list a mile long.
"For blackmailing you into keeping the baby news a secret."
"Mmm hmm. . ." I mumbled.
"And for making you lose Justin because of it."
"And. . ." She rolled her eyes.
"And. . ." she mocked, "And for just being a bitch this whole time."
"That actually seemed legit," I said.
"It was." Cameron slide her bag off her shoulder and looked down at her hands. "You and Justin scared me. You scared me."
"I don't know why," I said.
"Because you two are so. . . good together," she scoffed, "It made me sick." I rose a brow.
"Thanks, I guess."
She laughed lightly. "I never got what he saw in you when everything started, but after a while, I caught onto all the times you made him laugh. I caught onto how smart you were and how caring and patient you could be. Physically, you're what he wants too. The curves and all that other shit that I don't have." She pouted and I almost feel bad.
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because. . . I don't know." She giggled. "Alonsha, I was never a jealous person. Every guy I ever hooked up with had girls swarming around him, Justin included, but I knew for a fact that he didn't want or need any of those women. I knew for a fact that he loved me. But when you came back into Justin's life, that sense of security was taken away from me, ya know? I felt that I couldn't compete, so I fought for him and it was just a losing battle in the end."
“What are you talking about?” I asked, “Justin doesn’t want nor does he need me. If he did, I wouldn’t still be sittin’ here, waitin’ for a phone call.”
“He still hasn’t called you?” she asked in disbelief. I nodded. “Well, maybe that’s a good thing.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because,” she paused, “When he called me, it was to break up. Permanently.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” she sighed, “Oh.”
“So, you and him are. . .?”
“Over?” she inserted, “Yes. We’re over.” I did mental cartwheels.
“Sorry to hear that,” I lied.
“Puh-lease,” Cameron chuckled, “I bet you were doing cartwheels in your head.”
“Yeah,” I admitted with a smile.
“It’s all good,” Cameron assured, “If I were you, I’d be doing the same thing.” I simply nodded and allowed the silence to wash over us. I watched as Cameron picked up a Cosmopolitan magazine from my coffee table and browsed through it.
“I really have to pick up this issue,” she said, “They have a whole section of at home spa treatments.”
“I tried a couple,” I chimmed in, “I oatmeal mask is really good.”
“Is that where they put banana and stuff in it?” I nodded, “I go up to Olivia’s and they charge me two-hundred and fifty bucks. Who knew I could just spend five bucks at the grocery store and do it my damn self?”
“But two-hundred and fifty bucks is, like, chump change to you, isn’t it?” Cameron nodded.
“But just because I have the money, doesn’t mean I want to waste it.”
“I understand that,” I said, “But it must be nice to have the option.”
“Yeah, I definitely can’t complain,” Cameron said before turning the page, “Oh my god, an avacado cream for your hair!” I laughed lightly.
“Yeah, Tiffany says it helps with split ends.”
“Really?” Cameron asked.
“Yep,” I replied, “It’s even a good moisturizer.”
“No shit,” Cameron smiled, “I really need to get this magazine.” Cameron continued to browse and gasp as she read along. I’d tell her about how everything worked since Tiffany and I tried them all and Cameron would tell me how much she wasted getting the same thing done at a salon or spa. I was actually enjoying her company, something I never thought I would.
It’s amazing that just two seconds after she walked through my door I wanted her out, but now, I would hate to see her go.
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Justin sat in the backseat of the large, black Surburban SUV and stared at all the shopping bags surrounding him. Louis Vuitton. Coach. Gucci. Versace. Karl’s. Macy’s. Saks Fifth Avenue. Tiffany’s. He didn’t even remember walking into most of these stores, let alone buying all of the clothes, jewels and gadgets surrounding him. Lonnie, his trusty bodyguard, was seated in the front seat of the car, looking at his employer and friend through his mirror.
“Justin, man, what are we doin’ here?” he asked as they continued to sit in the parking lot of Arington’s Hotel. They were driving back up to his mansion when Justin asked him to pull over for a moment. That had been thirty minutes ago.
“I don’t know,” Justin replied, now staring at the Coach bag squished against his leg. “I just needed a break.”
“From what?” Lonnie asked, “All you did was shop.”
“I need. . . I need to think, man.”
“You can’t think when I drive?”
“No,” Justin answered in annoyance, “And I definitely can’t think when you’re talking.”
“Hey, just because your name’s on my paycheck, doesn’t mean I can’t whoop ya ass.” Justin quieted and sighed.
“Sorry,” he apologized, “I’m just. . .”
“Avoiding something?” Lonnie inserted with a knowing smirk.
“No,” Justin lied.
“I think you are.”
“You think too much.”
“And you don’t think enough,” Lonnie shot back, “Look, man, you called me to come and take you down to Alonsha’s apartment, right?”
“Yeah. . .” Justin admitted.
“Well, can you please explain to me why we’ve been driving for almost four hours and I have yet to even pass by her street?” Justin sighed and unbuckled his seat beat. As he slowly scooted over to the center of the backseat, Lonnie turned in his driver’s seat in order to look him in the eye. Justin rested his elbows on his knees and looked up at Lonnie.
“I’m. . .” He trailed off, not wanting to admit how he felt.
“You’re scared?”
“No!” he adamently denied, “I’m-”
“Scared,” Lonnie interrupted.
“I’m not scared.”
“Justin, I’ve known you since you were fourteen years old,” Lonnie said, “I know when you’re happy. I know when you’re hungry. And I know, for damn sure, when you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared, man,” Justin emphasized, “I’m. . . worried.” Lonnie rolled his eyes.
“Look, call it what you want,” he told him, “The fact of the matter is, you’re bein’ a punk ass.”
“Damn,” Justin whined, “Why do I have to be a punk ass?”
“Jay, ain’t nothin’ wrong with being a punk ass,” Lonnie assured, “When you’re in love, that’s what you do. Women have the power over you.”
“Women make men punks?” Justin asked sarcastically.
“Yes,” Lonnie answered, “They make us all sentimental and shit. We don’t want to do all the romancing and whatnot, but we do it to keep them. Am I right?” Justin nodded.
“Okay, so I’m a punk ass,” Justin admitted, “What do I do about that?”
“Nothing,” Lonnie chuckled, “But you must let the lady know that she’s got you, man.”
“What if the lady moved on?”
“Alonsha hasn’t moved on anywhere,” Lonnie dismissed, “The girl practically murdered herself trying to keep her love a secret because she was scared of your reaction. What makes you think she’d just drop you and move on in two months?”
“What makes you think she hasn’t?” Justin countered.
“I just told you, fool,” Lonnie stated, exasperated, “You two are the worst, I swear. When it comes to dysfunctional, y’all are it.”
“We’re not dysfunctional.”
“Says the guy who’s in the love with a woman who he knows loves him back, but is still too scared to tell her how he feels.” Justin sucked his teeth and leaned back in his seat, staring at the roof of the car.
“I can’t find the words.”
“Words for what?”
“Words to tell her,” Justin groaned, “I thought I knew what I was gonna say, but it doesn’t sound good enough anymore. That’s why I went shopping.”
“You were gonna buy her a ‘I love you too’ gift?” Lonnie chuckled. Justin smiled sheepishly.
“Shut up, man,” Justin smiled, “I didn’t know what else to do.”
“Justin, it’s Alonsha we’re talkin’ about here,” he said, “She’s the simple kind of woman. All she needs is you.” Justin smiled and sat up.
“That’s really sweet, Lon,” Justin said, “Give me a hug.” He rose out of his seat and Lonnie pushed him back.
“Whoa, buddy. Let’s not get fruity, alright?” Justin laughed and sat back down.
“All she needs is me, huh?” Lonnie nodded. “Okay. . . I’m ready then.”
“You sure?” Justin bit his bottom lip and nodded his head.
“I love her and she loves me,” Justin stated, “How much surer can you get?”
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Cameron had left about two hours ago and I was still smiling. She’s actually a lot cooler than I could’ve ever imagined. I don’t think I’ve ever went five minutes without wanting to kick her ass in the beginning or at the end of our conversation. It’s amazing what two months of separation and a simple apology could do.
Hell, I even apologized for a couple of things I did that was unfair to her like secretly hanging out with Justin behind her back and almost kissing him when I was in Philly. Don’t get the wrong idea, we’re far from becoming the best of friends, but it was actually nice to have her company and know it wasn’t just some scheme for her to ruin Justin and I.
I already took care of that.
Tiffany came home a while ago and complained about how uneventful her day was before changing really fast and running out the door again. I didn’t even ask where she was going. She wore pumps, which ultimately means there’s a ‘sleepover’ at Scott’s. I try not to think about it because the thought of my two best friends doing anything in the realm of sex is quite unsettling.
My body’s tired and all I could think of was slipping beneath layers of bubbles and warm water, washing away my stress and being smothered by the comforting scent of my lavander bubble bath. Just thinking about the sweet feeling of content I know I’ll be experiencing shortly makes me smile to myself.
The tub seems to be calling me as I walk around in the bathroom in my robe, looking for my towel that had been misplaced after I did the laundry. When I don’t see it in the cabinet or on the towel rack, I strut out of the bathroom and strut my way toward my bedroom. I barely get a toe through the entrance when there’s a knock at my front door. I furrow my brows in confusion and drag myself over to it, not really caring about who it was because, quite frankly, bath time was my time and I didn’t appreciate the interruption. Nonetheless, I continue to walk toward the door hurriedly, trying to get this conversation over and done with so that I could relax.
“I’m coming!” I called when the person knocks again. I look through the peephole and gasp. Although my stomach was swarming with nervous, fluttering butterflies, I unlocked the door with lightening speed and swung it open, revealing the last person I’d ever thought I’d see again.
Song Credit(s):
"Back To You" - Goapele
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