I did it. I gave in and just did it. I don’t know why I did.
It’s only a month, that’s what I keep reminding myself.
Only a month. Only thirty days.
I already got twelve days down. I’ll make it…I don’t know if Justin will though. I might have to take him out Soprano style before then.
Oh, yes, I remember how I ended up here now…
Technically, I hadn't really decided to go with this living situation, it had just kind of been forced upon me one day. I got home after a long day of classes and walked into my room to find it empty, save the furniture.
"Where the hell is my shit?" I said, storming out of my bedroom back into the TV room where Nate had been lounging in front of the TV.
Blinking several times, he yawned and shrugged. I don't know if he could tell or not, but he was about two seconds from dying, if he didn't start talking soon.
"He took it."
"He who?" I said, restraining from strangling him out of his apathy. "Who took my shit?!"
"Justin." He frowned at me then, as if I was acting crazy and the answer was so obvious that I'd have to be blind to miss it.
His frown transfered onto my face then. "Justin?" I echoed, scratching my head in confusion.
"Yeah, you know that guy you're dating."
"Don't get smart wit me right now." I warned him. "So where did he take my stuff? And more importantly, why?"
"I don't know. Is he my brother?"
Is my brother?...had become Nate's patent answer for anything that he didn't know the answer to and under normal circumstances it was only fairly annoying but now it was fucking frustration and might cause me to commit a felony up in this bitch.
Maybe he noticed this, because he cleared his throat and said, "He took it to his place."
"Why?"
"How should I know? Is he..."
Pointing my finger at him, I warned him, "Don't finish that."
He grinned and shrugged, eyes back on the TV.
And so that's how it happened. When I went over to Justin's house that day, I had every intention of telling him off and then getting my stuff and moving it right back into my apartment to show him that he couldn't just pick me up and put me where he wanted me. But when I got there, the little bugger was half-dressed, drip-dropping wet from having just stepped out of the shower with his towel precariously hanging from his hips.
Naturally, I forgot what I had meant to yell at him about and naturally he took of advantage of it.
...and me. Over and over, and over again.
And I think it was somewhere during the second or third round when he managed to get me to agree to staying for at least a probational month.
So that's why I'm playing house with Justin now.
"You never really know a person until you live with them." Nikki was saying over the phone. Lately, she and I had been talking on a more regular basis since during the nearly two weeks of this probational month I had needed to have someone to listen to my daily complaints.
"Ain't that the truth." I sighed, shaking my head. My eyes falling onto the underwear that Justin always left strewn on the bedroom floor. "Do you ever regret having moved in with Jason?"
There was a pause for a few beats, before she spoke up. "Nah, no. Why, you regretting moving in with Justin?"
"Not like I had a choice anyways."
Laughing, Nik said, "That's cause you ain't trained him right. Jason woulda never pulled some mess like that on me."
Lately Nikki seemed forever talking about how you had to train your man, just like you’d train a dog. Otherwise you’d just have to deal with a lot of unnecessary shit.
It didn’t really sound like something Nicole would normally have come up with on her own, kind of sounded like a signature Coral thing to say and do. So I asked, "Since when have you been training Jason?"
"Since I learned that he'll act a damn fool if I don't."
"What happened?"
"He was just wil'n for a minute, talkin' to me all crazy, actin' like he was runnin' me. So I had to set him straight. But I'll be real wit you, I didn't get wit him right away. Somebody had to school me on training my man, before I actually did it."
Ah, so she didn’t come up with it on her own. "Who?"
"Oh," She trailed off with a sigh, which was followed with a three beat pause. "N-nobody. Don't worry about it."
"No, tell me, who was it?"
"Girl, don't even worry about it."
"Who was it?"
"Coral."
I nodded to myself then, having had my suspicions confirmed. I couldn't find my voice to say anything for awhile, so instead I hung back on the conversation tip and let silence shine. When I did speak up, my voice crawled out slow and low. "How long you been seeing her?"
"'Bout a month now," she rushed out, her words tumbled over themselves to get out first, before she quickly added, "But don't trip. You're acting like you and me are dating and now I just cheated on you or something." She finished with a soft, hesitant laugh---the kind you do when you hope the other person will laugh with you, but you know they aren't going to.
Maybe you did. I thought, but I didn't say that. I didn't say anything.
"Keisha?"
"What?"
"Are you mad now?"
I dunno, maybe. I thought, but I didn't say that. I didn't say anything.
"You're really mad about this?" She asked, incredulously.
Okay, not really. I guess. I mean...just a little. But I shouldn't be right? I mean, they can hang out. It's not like just because Coral and I aren't speaking doesn't mean that Coral and Nicole can't hang. Even though I'm the whole reason they even know each other, since they only became friends because I was friends with them and wanted them to be friends. I thought, but I didn't say any of that. I didn't say anything.
"You can't be serious?!"
"I'm not mad." I finally said out loud.
"You sound mad." She said, clearly not satisfied with my answer.
Pushing out a breath of air, I said, "Well, I ain't."
"Well, you sound..."
"I'm not mad, okay!" I groaned, feeling the first throbbings of a headache coming on. If there was one thing that could piss me off quickly it was telling me I'm pissed when I'm telling you that I'm not. "Damn. Look, I gotta go."
"You aren't mad though, right?"
"Girl, ask me if I'm mad one more time and then I'm gonna reach through this phone and smack the black offa you." I said, only half serious. Not that there would be much black to smack off anyways, considering how light-skinned Nik was---looking like someone had just stood next to her and blew some fairy color powder onto her skin and what little managed to stick became her light brown flavored skin.
Laughing, she said, "So you aren't mad?"
If it had of been anyone else asking me that again, I probably wouldn't have hesitated to hang up on them right then and there. "You're so stupid...and predictable." I sighed, shaking my head at her. "Anyways, I really do have to get off this phone. I got psych class in fifteen minutes."
"She's been asking about you."
"Nik, don't start that."
"I'm not starting anything. I'm just saying."
"You know I don't have anything to say to her."
"And I know you're only not talking to her because you think it'll make you look like a punk if you admit that you miss her. Even though she played you."
"Don't play yourself by confusing me with someone else. I don't have any desire to talk to that heffa." I said, and clicked the 'end' button on the phone, ending the conversation without so much as a word of goodbye. It was ringing again before I could get a good two steps away though. "Hello?" I said, with a smile, knowing full well who was at the other end of the line without even having to check the caller ID.
"Goodbye to you too, slut." Nicole said.
I had to laugh at that. "Bye, bitch." I said, before hanging up again.
Leaving the phone in its cradle in the bedroom, I took the stairs two at a time snatching up the variously scattered clothes on the steps and banister as I went. It had barely been twelve days into the probational month and I was already finding out new things about Justin”like how his bipolar tendencies. Okay, it’s not official that he is bipolar, but his sudden mood swings make me wonder about him. He can go from being perfectly fine and normal then the next thing I know he’s in a funk and not talking to me anymore. And just as contradictory as his moods were, so were his cleaning habits. He took painstaking care of his shoes, lining them up according to color, style and frequency of use, in their boxes with a picture of them on the front side.
But his clothes…
Those got tossed every which a way without a care as to where they’ll land. And when he did attempt to be neat about it, that’s when the piles came”growing higher and higher, wider and higher until they were nearly as tall as me (5’2”). And even though I’m far from a neat freak myself, I had to draw the line somewhere so I began to take matters into my own hands, before I would find myself drowning in FUBU, Gucci, Ecko, Rocawear, and Ralph Lauren. So by the eighth day, I felt like a live-in maid who only got breaks when I went to class. Justin seemed to be forever telling me that I didn’t have to do it, but me not doing it roughly translated to it not getting done at all, since Justin refused to get a maid. According to him he didn’t need one because and I quote, he’s a ‘pretty tidy person.’
I had just grabbed up a large pile of clothes from the family room (which I had found out on day two to be about as far as his clothes stayed on if he’d had a long, hard day recording) when I noticed the flashing red light of the answering machine. Too nosy to walk away, I dropped the load where I stood and strolled over to check the message. There were six new messages. I skipped past the first four from Johnny and the fifth one from Lynn, the sixth one having a voice I didn’t expect to be hearing from.
I hit play and let the message run.
"Hey, where’s my roomie at? When you coming home? I hate to admit it, but I actually miss yo’ crazy ass.” Nate said with a laugh. “It just ain’t the same here without you."
Laughing, I thought about it and surprisingly I actually missed him too and next thing I knew the phone was in my hand and I was like ET, phoning home.
"Hey, Nate Dogg.” I said, as soon as I heard his gruff hello at the other end of the phone. “What up, boy?"
"Who this?"
"I see your phone manners haven’t improved."
Laughing he replied, "Oh girl, I was only messin’ wit you. I knew it was you the moment I heard that annoying voice of yours."
"Annoying voice? It ain’t like yours is Barry White smooth either."
"Oh yeah? Well a lot of girls happen to love my voice, thank you very much."
"A lot of girls huh? Well sorry to burst your bubble but those 1-800 numbers you’re always calling doesn’t count."
"Oh so you got jokes?" He said, laughing. "Well I do declare Miss K, I didn’t think it was possible but you, my dear, have gotten meaner." He drawled, in a mock down south accent.
"Good." I laughed. "Gotta keep my title of Queen B. Your girl was giving me a run for my money for a while there."
"That was low, K. You know it’s that medicine they got her on that fucking up her moods."
"Hmmm…that just sounds like a nice way of saying she’s crazy."
He laughed, before getting serious. "Alright, K. You know I can’t let you keep bad mouthing my girl like that."
"Can’t let me?" I asked, challengingly. "What you gon’ do? I ain’t scurred of you!"
"Mmm-hmmm. We’ll see about that. You gotta come home sooner or later."
"Is that a threat?"
"Nah." Changing the subject he said, "So when are you coming home?"
"Aww you miss me that much?" I asked, smiling, glad to know that I was missed. "I knew you were a loser."
"Whatever.” He said, brushing off my words. “I just need to know how long you’re gonna be gone for."
"Why? What are you planning to do?"
"None-a-ya."
"None-a-ya?"
"Yeah, none of your business."
"Like hell it ain’t! I still live there."
"Uh-huh. For now you do. But you’re shacked up wit yo’ loverman right now. So it’s only a matter of time before that becomes a permanent thang."
"Maybe it will. Maybe it won’t." I shrugged.
"Ooh, is that trouble in paradise I’m hearing?" He teased with a laugh.
"Shut up, Nate. You ain’t hearing nothin’ you need to clean your damn ears out." I snapped.
"Feisty. Alright, alright I won’t joke about y’all."
"Good."
"Tam asked me to move in with her one time."
"And did you?"
"Yeah."
"And what happened?"
"We broke up." He laughed. "And I thought we were really over that time, and it took a long time before we got back together. Living together changes a lot. Makes you see the person in ways you never did before. Ways you probably didn’t ever want to see them."
I found myself thinking about what Nate had said long after I’d hung up the phone. Wondering if I’d made a big mistake in agreeing to this. Wondering if that was just another sign of how dysfunctional his relationship with Tamela was, so maybe it wouldn’t apply to Justin and I. Maybe our relationship would only get stronger from living together”which almost immediately got me to wondering if I was only spending so much time wondering about this to keep from thinking about the nagging worry that was floating around in the back of my mind while I waited for my monthly cramping to begin.
It was around this time, as I standing in the kitchen, lost in my wonderings that Justin came home. Coming up behind me, he wrapped his arms around me, giving me those sweet, sweet sugary kisses that my body and soul craved.
How could living with a man who loved me be wrong? I thought, before thoughts of free cows and unbought milk, got me back to wondering again.
…and seriously considering a trip to the gym.
I said, "I was just thinking about you."
"Oh really? Good thoughts I hope." He said, turning me around until I was forced to face him.
I smirked and shrugged. "Good or bad…they’re my thoughts."
He just nodded, taking my hands in his. Licking his lips, he opened his mouth only to close it again. His words must have been stuck in a traffic jam. He finally raised his eyes back to mine, when he said, "Are we okay?"
Nodding, I murmured a tired "Ummm…yeah" as I began to try to busy myself with anything…and anything at the moment happened to be reorganizing the spices.
"Are we really?" He asked more persistently, physically making me face him again.
I forced a smile on my face when I said, "Of course, we’re fine. Why wouldn’t we be?"
He sighed, letting his hands drop from my shoulders while his fingers ran through his wild curls. "Nothing…it’s nothing I guess."
He turned to leave, but now I wanted him to stay. Reaching for him and pulling him back to me, I said, "If you have something you wanna say, just say it."
He smiled, not an ounce of the usual cockiness in it. Taking the hand of his I was holding from me, he cupped my face in both of his hand, before he gently dropped feather light kisses on my forehead, nose and finally my lips. Tucking a rebellious strand of hair back into its family’s home, behind my ear, he continued to smile on me. "I love you." He finally said, so softly so gently so sincerely that I thought I was going to cry. And I didn’t know why.
"I love you too," scratched its way out of my suddenly dry throat. When did I get to be so damn emotional? When did I get to be such a girly girl?
His smile had shifted, tilted and wasn’t the same as it started, using his thumb he gingerly wiped away tears I didn’t know I had cried. He sighed, before speaking again. "When you wanna talk about what’s wrong…I’ll be here."
I wanted to say that there was nothing wrong, except for the fact that I’d suddenly become an emotional kaleidoscope. I wanted to say that if there was something wrong, I didn’t know what it was. And his guess was as good as mine…maybe even better.
But instead I said nothing, as I’d done so many times lately. Instead I decided to just shut up, just hush up…and maybe it’ll go away on its on. But this…
This wasn’t going away. No amount of silence could make this golden.
Ah, hell what am I saying…I’m pregnant…not dying. I never used to be this dramatic, I swear”the drama queen was Justin’s role and he played it well. Still does actually.
