Chapter 7
VASIAH
Blocked.
My text showed up green, and I wasn’t sure what happened.
Even with me getting into that fight with that pussy ass nigga, I knew that LaReina and I had an amazing date, and I was anxious to plan another one.
I came home, showered, iced my hand, and then went to sleep after our adventurous day.
I woke up the next morning to my text messages turning up green, and I couldn’t understand it.
I sent her another one the following day and realized it was intentional.
She blocked a nigga, damn.
My pops called to hear about the date, and I did him one better by pulling up on him.
Now that I’m grown, my childhood home seems small to me.
My pop didn’t change much about the home from when my mama was alive, but over the years, I’d added some upgrades when I started making real money.
His favorite part of the home was his enclosed cigar room, where he’d smoke two and have a glass of whiskey while he watched the game.
Over time, he shared that ritual with me, and that was one of the many ways we bonded.
“So, son, how was it?” he asked after settling into his recliner.
“I thought it went well…” I started.
“But what happened?”
I proceeded to fill him in on the day, the fight, and then told him how she blocked me. The old man listened silently, stroking his beard.
“That gal is just scared, son.”
My head snapped up. “What?”
“Ya mama was kinda like that, though back in our day we didn’t have no shit like blocking and whatnot.
But beneath your mother’s bold exterior, she was scared…
scared of love and all the heartache it could potentially bring.
She’d been hurt before me, and while we shouldn’t pay for another person’s sins, if you believe that this gal is truly the one, then you gotta be patient with her.
If you can’t be patient, then end the pursuit and go on about your business.
It’s plenty of fine women out here,” he puffed on his cigar, and now I was even more confused.
Right when I was about to pick apart Pop’s word salad, my phone pinged as if the lady of the hour knew we were talking about her.
LaReina: Hey handsome… tell me something good
I blinked at the message, perplexed. If you listened long enough, people would tell you any and everything you needed to know about them.
Though Reina didn’t give me much, I could tell that she was a person who was used to having her way, regardless of how niggas may have felt about it.
Now, I understand why she carried on that way because the consensus of niggas was indeed terrible.
From the rates of intimate partner violence, to the elected officials who just wanted to control those they deemed less than them – women and children – to the niggas who regurgitated senseless nigga babble with their podcast mics and hot takes on social media – men were out of control.
But under no circumstances should Miss King group me in with those other niggas.
I was not a perfect man, but I was not a fuckin’ dweeb either.
And blocking me when I didn’t do shit to you was grounds for dismissal before we even started… good date be damned.
“Why you staring at ya phone like you’ve seen a ghost?” Pop asked.
“Because she seems to have unblocked me and decided to text me. I ain’t gone lie, Pop, I don’t like the way that makes me feel.”
He took a long drag of his cigar, deep in thought.
“Your feelings are valid, son. But I also know you like this girl. So I think you should either tell her straight up what you will and won’t tolerate in getting to know each other, or you could just stall her out for a bit…
not respond, give her a taste of her own medicine.
But I don’t know if that errs on the side of petty, and I ain’t raise no petty ass son. ”
Now, I was even more confused. I ain’t wanna be looked at as petty, but I also didn’t want to let this slide.
While there were plenty of fish in the sea, I think I found my favorite fish.
Which is crazy, because we only spent one day together, not even a full twenty-four hours, but it’s not every day that I’m knocking niggas out for a lady I just met.
Me: You blocked me? Wassup with that?
I decided to be straight up. I wouldn’t be passive, and I wanted to make sure that me and her were on the same page… if there was a page at all. Maybe she could enjoy herself and not wanna see a nigga again, which I found odd, but what do I know?
LaReina Water under the bridge, love…it was honestly a slip of my finger.
Me: … a slip of the finger, LaReina?
You gotta give me something more than that, mamas. If you ain’t feeling me, it's no harm or foul. But blocking me is unacceptable.
The text bubbles popped up, then disappeared, then popped up again. I held my breath, anxious to see what this girl was gonna say. She’d probably block me again. Shit, maybe I should block her.
LaReina: Honestly, I’m sorry. Can I make it up to you by planning our second date?
I was at a loss for words again. A woman planning a date? A woman saying sorry? That was new to me, but something told me not to fold so easily; was it pride?
“What’d she say, son?”
“She said sorry and then asked if she could make it up by planning our second date…”
His lips curled. “Hmmmph. That’s new.”
“Same thing I thought.”
“Well, whatchu gone do? You don’t have to make a decision right away.”
“I know. It’s just…”
“Do you think she’s worth it, son?”
I nodded. “Yeah, Pop… I think so.”
But it wasn’t just me who needed to think that she was worth it; LaReina needed to think that she was worth it, too.