8. Asaiah
I have never had a woman speak to me without uttering a single word, yet I feel like that happened between Onesti and me at the hospital. Standing in her presence while trying to mentally convince myself to walk away without surrendering to the pull I had been feeling was a feat I didn't win. While my heart was closed to the idea, my mind was open and receptive to the kind and soul-stirring pull between us. I'm too old to claim never to have a woman affect me in this way, but the truth is… I haven't.
The one woman I thought could have left me because she got tired of competing with my parents. Danielle Mitchell had given me a false sense of hope by coming and supplying me with a temporary reprieve from the burdens I was carrying. Danielle was a sheep in whore's clothing, literally and figuratively. Okay, maybe calling Danielle a whore isn't nice, but imagine my surprise when I popped up on her one night to find her in bed with another woman.
Being a man with a healthy dose of past hurt, I let Danielle convince me to climb into bed with both of them. The woman was her friend from college, who had been trying me during our entire relationship. That day, I let hormones and the opportunity to explore uncharted waters dictate my actions. I put on two condoms and spent hours taking both women on a ride. It was the worst mistake of my life because, for several months afterward, I allowed Danielle and Tiffany to use me individually and collectively for their benefit. Only the guilt and chastisement coming from God could pull me out of that toxicity.
One of the great things I love about God is his ability to show grace even when it's undeserving. Sex has never been sacred since I have never been given the opportunity to make the choice for myself. Sex, for me, had always been a means to an end. Every woman I've been with has been for the purpose of fulfilling some type of need. Maybe one of these days I'll?—
If you let me heal you, you can be freed from the bondage of it. Every woman you meet doesn't have to serve the needs of your loins. Some connections can serve the needs of your heart, soul, and mind.
The voice of God cuts off my thoughts and causes a shiver to ease down my spine when Onesti's beautiful smiling face flashes in my mind.
"Hm. Should I call her?"
Call that woman, fool. You know you want to, yet you're trying to act like you ain't sitting here with butterflies and a giddy feeling at the thought of her.
A low chuckle escapes my mouth when my conscience puts its unsolicited two cents in my business. However, I pick up my phone, pull up my text app, and send Onesti a message. My nerves are causing my stomach to twist and turn, making it impossible for me to call her.
Me:
Good evening, Ms. Onesti. Uh, this is Asaiah.
Why are you texting like you're thirteen and incapable of having a conversation with the opposite sex? Uh, this is Asaiah… man up!
Biting my lip, I stare at the text thread and my heart rate elevates while my eyes stare intently once the message has been sent. My palms begin sweating, which is uncharacteristic for me, forcing me to close the thread, lock the phone, and place it face-down on the couch.
"Okay. Now, the ball is in her court. Let me get something to drink.”
Pulling open my fridge, I stare blankly at the contents, and my mind starts wandering, which causes me to fall down a rabbit hole I need to bury from my past.
"Alright, class. This assignment is due by next Friday. I need you to write an essay about something you would change if money weren't an option," Mrs. Lane explains.
The class goes up when my classmates begin chattering about what they're going to write about. My chest tightens, and I fight the water welling in my eyes because I would change my mom and dad's craving for drugs. Yet this isn't something I can openly share with Mrs. Lane or anyone else. No one knows my mom and dad spend countless hours sucking on a glass contraption that feeds them a vapor which causes them to forget I exist. I would also love to change the attraction older chicks have for me, which has me being a human sex-machine. I'm fifteen, and my dick has more miles on it than a runaway freight train.
"This assignment is a little juvenile, isn't it?" I ask Mrs. Lane, who's walking past my desk.
"Maybe it is, but it's still something you'll be graded on, so either you complete it or worry about failing this semester. The ball is in your court, Mr. Harrison, so choose wisely or don't," Mrs. Lane replies sassily before continuing her strides to the front of the classroom.
"I got you, babe." Danielle leans over, causing me to look toward her.
"The last time I gave a woman control over something concerning me, I found out how foolish of a decision it was. Maybe jumping on the ledge with Onesti isn't a good idea."
Or maybe you need to stop trying to let your past define what could be your future. While things haven't worked out in your favor where other women are concerned, you shouldn't judge them all based on someone else's failures.
Huffing, I grab a can of Tahitian Treat and close my fridge before returning to my living room when a notification sounds from my phone.
Bzz.
Onesti:
Oh, hi, Asaiah. I'm not sure if you can, but I would much rather talk to you over the phone than text. But if this works, I'll acquiesce to your option.
"This woman." Sitting on the couch, I push the phone icon with a smirk when the ringing sounds around the room once I place the call on speaker.
"While you might be a man of few words, I am a woman with many. Texting feels cold and informal, at least when attempting to establish a connection and common ground with someone," Onesti says when the call connects after the third ring.
For some strange and foreign reason, my heart pumps wildly in my chest when I hear her sultry and sweet voice. Swallowing the sudden lump in my throat, I gather my thoughts and respond to her statements.
"I apologize. It wasn't my intention to come off that way. I just wasn't sure if you were working or doing something important preventing you from talking over the phone."
"Take the risk next time. If I'm unable to answer, I'll let you know. However, I'm a woman who loves and prefers this method of communication."
"Duly noted," I say.
"Good. I'm glad you called, though, Asaiah. I wasn't sure if you would, but I hoped you would be a man of your word." The jitters in my stomach return, making me feel something I'm unable to identify yet pushing me to respond.
"I do my best to, if nothing else, honor my word. How is your day going?"
"Now that I'm off work… great. I love what I do but enjoy the end of a shift just the same."
The sound of Onesti's giggles causes an electrifying warmth to spread throughout my body, leaving me momentarily speechless from the uncommon reaction. Rubbing my left palm down my pants, I do the same with my right after placing my phone beside me.
What the heck is wrong with me?
You're smitten with a woman is what's wrong, although I don't see anything wrong with it. In fact, keep talking, and let's see where this goes.
My conscience answers before I have a chance to analyze the feelings I'm experiencing from hearing the lighthearted humor from Onesti.
"Asaiah?" Onesti's humor is gone, reminding me of my sudden silence.
"I'm here. There's nothing like being home after a busy workday."
"Indeed. So, what do you do?"
Ooh, seamless banter. I can do this.
"I'm the chief financial officer at Baxtown Technologies."
"Oh wow. That sounds like an important and exciting role. Do you have an assistant? That usually confirms how important a person is in the corporate world."
A low chuckle slips from my mouth before I'm able to stop or prevent it from happening from the humor in Onesti's question.
"Yes. I have an assistant, but I wouldn't say I'm more important than anyone else working for the company."
"Uh-uh, Mr. CFO. Don't be trying to downplay your position. I'm sure you deserve that assistant and title."
"Okay. I won't," I tease with a cheesy grin.
Though foreign, the giddiness flowing through my extremities has me settling into the couch, crossing one leg over the other.
"So that explains why you practically bit my head off the day of the coffee debacle. I really need to rectify that mistake. When will y?—"
"A woman of your caliber should never ask a man out, Ms. Onesti. Besides, that incident is water under the bridge."
"Maybe for you, but I still feel horrified over the incident."
"Be that as it may, your apology has been received. Nevertheless, I would be honored if you allowed me to share some of your time. It can be coffee, or it can be dinner. The choice is totally yours."
That's what I'm talking about. That's how you reverse an invite.
The internal high-five from my conscience is ignored due to the pounding in my ears while I await Onesti's response. I bite my lip before switching to chewing my inner cheek, and my eyes stare intently at the phone when seconds tick by.
"I would love to. All I need to know is where and when." The sultry and seductive tone from Onesti has my dick twitching while I nod slowly.
"I'll check my calendar and get back to you, but I'm looking forward to i?—"
Beep, beep, beep.
The phone chimes with another call, preventing me from completing my statement. Grabbing the phone, my head hangs, and my jovial mood tanks upon seeing my mom's name on the caller ID.
"Uh, I hate to do this, but can I call you back? I need to take this incoming call."
"Sure. I look forward to setting a date. Talk to you soon, Asaiah." Onesti disconnects the call, causing it to vibrate and forcing me to answer.
"Hello."
"Hey, son. Can you explain to your sister what's going on? She w?—"
"No, I don't believe you, Valerie. I'm not sure why you called me, anyway." Annalise's stern voice comes through the line with enough aggression to light a blown furnace.
"Now, I've told you about being disrespectful, sis," I remind her with my brows hiking and nose twisting.
The cheery mood I had been in while talking to Onesti dissipates like vapor from a heavy rainstorm because I already know where this conversation is going.
"Hm. Respect would have been Valerie and Andre raising the daughter that neither of their asses had the sense to love or appreciate. Let's talk about how the ingrates responsible for your existence prefer their booga sugar over you. Hm. Respect is?—"
"That's enough, Annalise," I cut her off when sniffles filter through the line, alerting me of Mom's reaction to Annalise's heavy words.
"We're sick, Annalise. When will you unders?—"
"That's a fucking excuse, Valerie," Annalise snaps.
My chest pinches, and heat explodes within my extremities because this conversation is fruitless and a waste of time. While I completely and utterly understand Annalise's plight, I'm growing tired of the battle. Unlike myself, Annalise's life wasn't the torment she projects because I made shit shake for her. I kept her from a life of destruction by shielding her from every aspect of our parents' addiction.
"Okay. Y'all aren't about to have me listening to this same old song and dance. Mom, I'll be up there to check on Dad tomorrow. Try to worry less and pray more. As for you, sis, me and you."
Without allowing either of them to respond, I disconnect the call with my chest rising and falling heavily. My nostrils are flaring, and my pulse is racing as I try to regulate my erratic breathing.
See, this is why I'm unsure about moving ahead with pursuing Onesti. My life is a mess that I hate managing, let alone asking someone else to come alongside me. Ugh.