Chapter 5
Sage: One of the nurses asked about you.
What the fuckwas she at the hospital with them for? With him? But she left me though. Said fuck me...turned her back on me, once again. She didn’t have time for me, but she had time for them? For him?
Sage: She asked if you was my sister. LOL. Said we looked alike.
Me: She lied. They think all black people look alike.
Why did I respond? It was a fucking impulse.
Something about the way she texted me pissed me off. Did she forget? She couldn’t have forgotten. Sage knew how I felt about those people. Why did she feel the need to tell me she was with them? With him? And LOL? LOL what? What the fuck was so funny? Why was she so jolly? She was having a good time with them, hm? Aw, how fucking cute.
Sage: So, you reply to that but NOTHING else? Not even my apology?
Sage: u tryin’ to say I’m ugly?
Sage: ???
Sage: Wow.
I rolled my eyes and tossed my phone back on the table.
Crossing my arms back over my chest, I leaned my head over to the side and stared at the TV screen with a frown. I was watching... Hell, I didn’t know what the fuck was playing. Whatever it was, I wasn’t watching it. I’d been sitting on the couch, in front of the TV since last night. After Sage left, I was a fucking mess. I didn’t go out as planned. Didn’t do anything but stay inside, a sad ass mess. I sat in the same spot I woke up in and finished a whole bottle of wine, ate pizza, and cried until I exhausted myself out and eventually fell asleep.
Any time I woke up, I sank. Thought about the things they could have done differently. Wondered why she didn’t fight for me. Thought about how she was his emergency contact, but SiSi was mine. SiSi had always been mine. Since I left the house, she had been, at least. Mothers were supposed to go in that spot. Fathers too, but shit... I didn’t have one of those. Shit, I didn’t have a mother neither.
My phone chimed and I checked it. Door-dash was almost here. Good.
I turned the phone back off and sat it on the coffee table. The only time I powered my phone on was when I had to order food. I was in no mood to talk to anybody. Obviously. Sisi had been blowing my phone up, too. I definitely didn’t want to talk to her.
Ding! Dong!
The dasher rang my doorbell, and I sat there a moment, waiting for him to leave. Once I heard him back out of my driveway, I pushed up off the couch to grab my food. When I opened the door and saw that the food was left on the bench instead of in front of the door like I put in the notes, I rolled my eyes. I looked a fucking mess. My hair was all over my head. I looked like I’d been electrocuted. The people over here already had their opinions about me; the last thing I needed was for them to think I was crazy, too. It would be hard for me to fight them allegations, chile.
My neighborhood was filled with mostly old people—old white people. But there were a handful of older blacks too. The wives were of course, the worst. Mrs. Sherman, Mrs. Lampkin, and Mrs. Brown loved to gossip like my granny and her friends used to back in the day on the block. Apparently, I was lonely and couldn’t find a man. A sweet girl who just needed a man and some kids. Little did they know, I didn’t have those things because I didn’t want that shit. Well... for a very long time I didn’t. I still didn’t. I just... shit. Anyway they had it wrong about me though. I wasn’t lonely. I could find a man. Kids were annoying. I was perfectly fine.
But fuck them.
I refused to go all the way upstairs for my wig, just to walk a couple of feet to grab a tray of food.
“Long time no see,” Greeted Chase as soon as I stepped out onto the porch.
Aw hell. This nigga. He was such a got damn creep. That’s all he did—creep and with that fucking mug.
I pivoted, turning away to take the few steps to grab my food. I didn’t say a word to him. Was it rude? Of course it was rude. I didn’t give a fuck. I truly didn’t have a fuck to give to the male species. Couldn’t care less about hurting what little feelings they had, if they had any at all. I was pissed, remember? Besides, I knew what Chase was. I knew what He was up to. The both of them. Him and God. God with his tests. Chase with his funky ass coffee mug. He wanted to drink me. God wanted me to let him. Just so I could end up right back in another fucking cycle with another version of them. But nah, I had on my got damn blinders. I was staying away from them. Fuck ‘em all. They didn’t deserve my coochie, and I for damn sure didn’t deserve another heartbreak. Not that a nigga sipping tea—yes tea, I noticed the little tag dangling on the side of the cup—could break my heart. I just... I couldn’t stand to waste any more time on anything pointless. And men... they were that. Pointless.
Life in general was pointless.
Mine was at least. Felt like I had only been sent here to suffer.
When I turned around, he was standing at the edge of Mrs. and Mr. Sherman’s porch, at the railing. My eyes instantly went to that muthafucking mug. I frowned. I was sure I looked like a mad woman. My hair was wild, I was barefoot wearing a stained gray duster, and a repulsive frown. I got confirmation when my eyes met his. He had this big ass smile on his face, but his eyebrows were furrowed, and he was taken aback.
I twisted my lips to the side and rolled my eyes.
He drew back with a light chuckle. “Damn! The hell I do to you?”
Exist.
That’s what you did. I wish they all would just... go.
The world would be a better place without them in it. Couple years ago, I’d laugh at a statement like that, but no... seriously. I believed it. All I needed was either a fully charged rose or wand. Men were pointless. Women are smart as fuck; we’d figure out how to procreate without them.
Shit.
I ran my freehand over my disheveled hair with a sigh. Not because I gave a flying fuck about fixing the way I looked for his ass. But because I was becoming one of them. That woman who bunched all men together because they had been hurt by a few. I didn’t want to become that. There were some good men in the world. I only knew a couple of ‘em. They deserved to be here. Mr. Mills... Jahad.... Umm.
That was all I had. Sadly.
I eyed Chase up and down. Maybe he could exist too. I didn’t know him. He was aight, I guess. He hadn’t done shit to be exiled. Not to me, at least.
Still, I didn’t say anything to him. Just walked off, back into the house. Instead of sitting on the couch, I decided to take my food upstairs. I was due for a change of scenery. What I needed to do was to leave the house all together, but I was in no mood for human interaction. I was... shit, I was a lot of things. But at the moment, I was hungry, so I grabbed the bottle of wine I’d been drinking from all day and carried it upstairs right along with my food.
“Thank you,”I said to the Uber driver, as I climbed out of his car.
The next day, I woke up and decided I couldn’t spend another fucking day staring at those walls in that big ass house. I was at Tipsy Tap Tavern, some hole in the wall bar, about five minutes from my house. Yep, in the suburbs. I had never been inside but by the name, the area, and the big bellied white man passed out front on an old, rustic bench, I was about ninety-nine, point nine percent sure that the men that frequented this place would be alcoholics and the least bit concerned about approaching my black ass. That was exactly what I was going for when I got dressed earlier. Nothing about me said I was looking for a man. I had on a charcoal grey oversized pull over hoodie, black leggings, and combat boots, no makeup and my natural hair was pulled up into a bun.
When I walked into the bar, I wasn’t surprised to see that there was a serious melanin deficiency. The aesthetic was just what I would expect from a bar with a drunk passed out on the bench outside of it: dim, gloomy, and rustic. Budweiser, Harley Davidson, and old school Sports Illustrated posters lined the dark wood paneled walls.
I peeled my jacket off and sat it on the barstool before sitting on the stool beside it. Propping my elbow on the bar, I rested my chin on the back of my knuckles to take in the scenery. The first thing I did was look for me. We all did it when we walked into predominately white spaces. Look for one of us. Black folk. Family. There were only three of us and one was the bartender. The woman, she was three stools down.
We made eye contact and she smiled at me. “Hey,” she sang, the way we do when we’re surprised to see one of us.
“Hey,” I greeted with a smile of my own. Then she went back to scrolling on her phone, and I went back to looking around.
Right after, the bartender—the fine ass bartender might I add—looked up from the customer he was serving and gave me a bright smile and a head nod. I smiled and threw my hand up with a wave. Like before, he went back to working, and my ass went right back to being nosey.
It was a little busy. I could tell that most of the people dropped in right after work. Loose ties dangled from the necks of a group of laughing men at a table, surrounded by a plethora of beer mugs. The blonde waitress serving them wore that uncomfortable smile. You know. The one women wear when we’re in comfortable situations we can’t get out of because of sacrifice and responsibility. It was confirmed when she walked away with an eyeroll only I caught.
“Wassup, mama? What can I get you?” The bartender greeted with a chipped tooth smile, leaning over on the bar top.
Well, I’d be damn. He looked better up-close. Of course he did. The sandy brown locs were a dead giveaway. And he had the nerve to have them up in a bun. The locs, and the tattoos covering both his arms told me I needed to find another bar to go to. I was here to get drunk and go home. Not get drunk, fuck the fine ass bartender in the restroom, and then go home.
But then I remembered.
Shedidn’t work for anybody but him.
That fucking Baptiste.
It had been three days, and I hadn’t heard from him. I blocked him, but so? He had several phones, and he knew exactly how to get to my house. Knew the way there just as well as he knew his way around my fucking pussy. I really should’ve been happy. I needed him to leave me alone. I had to let him go. But... regardless of what I needed and what I knew about us, there was this part of me that wanted him to call. Wanted him to chase me. Wanted him to give a fuck. Wanted what I imagined that night to be real. But what the past few days had shown me was that I was more delulu than I thought I was. The nigga didn’t give a fuck.
With a smile, I said, “Lemon drop.” I paused. “Start a tab.”
He stood up and grunted. “Mmmh. One of them days huh?”
“One of them months,” I corrected, before pulling my ringing phone from my purse.
“Damn, I’m sorry to hear that, love,” He apologized as he got to working on my drink.
I didn’t say anything; couldn’t. I was caught off guard by a text from Sage. I shouldn’t have checked.
I rolled my eyes, shut my phone off and stuffed it back into my purse.
My knee started to bounce as I thought about them, sitting at his hospital bed like one big ass happy family. I was sick of this shit. I left the house because I was tired of thinking. Tired of sinking. That’s all I had done since Sage left. Sink. Further and further... and further. I struggled to get out of bed for two days. It took a lot out of me. And on the day that I finally find the strength to, this happens? For two days I did nothing but think and cry. All I wanted to do was enjoy my fucking night. I couldn’t even get that.
I thought since today I actually did something, I had found my second wind. But Sage’s annoying ass just had to ruin me. Again. She had been doing that a lot. She had a way of tearing me the fuck up and just waltzing away as if she hadn’t done a got damn thing. Like a puppy who hadn’t been properly housetrained. That’s what she was. Except she was a full-grown bitch, who just did not give a fuck about making a mess. But, that was Sage. Been that way since we were kids.
Sighing, I shook my thoughts a way and scratched at the back of my head.
I couldn’t sink here. That shit would be embarrassing. Instead, I put my focus on the fine ass bartender. He was very nice looking. Tall. Caramel. Bearded. Heavily tattooed. And I mean... heavily. There were tattoos on his neck and his hands too. On the side of his face, right next to his ear was a dainty one. A crescent moon. If I wasn’t staring, I would have missed it.
Once he finished preparing the drink, he put a napkin in front of me and sat it down on top of it. “Lemon drop. Extra vodka. Light lemon,” he said with a wink.
I lightly laughed. “Thank you. The extra vodka is appreciated.”
He smiled. “Enjoy. You need anything else, let me know aight?”
I nodded. “I sure will.”
He nodded, tapped the bar, and walked off to tend the rest of the customers.
I felt slighted.
That was new. He didn’t flirt. Was friendly, yeah. But there was absolutely no flirting.
I insecurely ran my hand up the back of my head. Maybe I should have done something other than the bun. Probably should have put on a little bit of makeup. Should have at least hidden my sad eyes behind a couple of swipes of concealer. Maybe I was a little too plain. I mean, yeah, I didn’t come out for sex. Like I said, she didn’t respond to anyone but him. But then again... she hadn’t been introduced to him yet. He had potential. He was a little different from them. He had a thing about him.
I grabbed the thin black straw and stirred my cocktail, watching as he worked the bar. Marveled over those tattoos. Wondered where they stopped. Wanted to ask him about the crescent moon on his face. Was tempted to throw myself at him. Desperate? Maybe. Pitiful? Absolutely. Especially for a bitch like me. I didn’t do that. I didn’t have to do that. But then again, I wasn’t myself. I was... sad. Sad Girl Kiki and Fun Girl Kiki were two completely different women. Sad Girl Kiki didn’t go to bars. She did her drinking at home. Sad Girl Kiki should have stayed her pathetic ass in the fucking bed.
I stoodin the middle of the empty dancefloor with my arms wrapped around my body, swaying my hips to Settling by Summer Walker. I requested it. I was in a zone. In this strange space between happy and sad. It was hazy. It was chaotic. It was unstable. Could’ve been the alcohol. Could’ve been the fact that I was outside. Either way, I didn’t give a fuck. I just... A bitch felt good. I was on drink number... shit I didn’t know. I had thrown them the fuck back that was for sure.
A lot of the people that were here when I showed up had left. It wasn’t nearly as crowded. The population of blacks had decreased by one, leaving just me and the bartender. That group of rowdy rude drunk men were long gone, as was that poor waitress. I made sure I slid her a twenty on her way out for her trouble. She didn’t serve me but because she had to serve rude, funky ass drunks all night, I decided to do something nice for her. I wasn’t mean; I just wasn’t friendly. There was a big difference.
Anyway... I was swaying. And I felt goodas hell. Lighter. Free. Like I was the only one in the bar. I was living in the moment. Taking advantage of it too. I had to. Didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. I could end up sitting in that big ass house, stuck in bed again, a sinking, depressed mess with her... this... person I turned in to. She was intolerably draining. All she did was think, wallow, and drown.
Or worst. I could end up calling him. A magician who could take all of the pain away. But only stayed away when I was with him. That he dangerous. But that’s not what made it dangerous. It was the sad fact that the same thing that made me feel good, made me feel useless too. I couldn’t call him. I had to stay away from him. Because, that last time, I went past the point of being a little ‘delulu’. I actually started to believe my delusion. I started to think that we really could work. When I laid with him for those hours, just...enjoying him. When the sex turned into sensual love making... I thought he loved me. I mean, truly. I thought he could actually tell me that and mean it. I thought it was actually a possibility. Thought for more than a second that I wasn’t that girl who didn’t get the fairytale love. Thought I’d get it. Thought that maybe I was just one of those bitches that got it the unconventional way. You know... like the around the way girl that had to kiss a couple frogs to get to her prince or some goofy, shit like that.
Delusion had come dangerously close to insanity. The straight jacket kind because, I’d have to be that type of insane to believe I would ever get any kind of happily ever after with his ass. How? After the shit we did at Pandora’s? But God. He made me feel. Like this. Intoxicated. Without the liquor. Like freedom. Like swaying and giggling. He was a limitless high. Regardless of how he made me feel... I wouldn’t call him. Couldn’t because of that dangerous little reminder that lingered in the back of my mind.
So, what was I supposed to do? Hm? Start another one, with another one? I didn’t want to get back on that wheel. Like some hamster, going, and going. Running in place, at full speed. Around and around, and around again. I was so got damn tired of going around and around. I didn’t... I didn’t want to start another fucking cycle.
Tomorrow scared me. My choices were... horrifying.
A hand sliding across my waist brought me back to where I was supposed to be. The present moment. How a bitch slip with a system full of liquor? My God, Sad Girl Kiki was pathetic.
“Come sit down with me,” said the deep voice in my ear.
Mmh. What a voice. I loved it when a man sounded like a man. When his voice was rough and raspy.
“Umm, no thank you,” I slurred before hooking my thumb over his hand resting on my stomach. “And, get your damn hands off me.”
So what he had a nice voice and he smelled good?
I didn’t give a damn, tonight’s mission hadn’t changed. l didn’t want anything to do with his ass. Fun girl Kiki would have sat with him, on his face, and on his dick too. However, she was dead. When he placed his hand on my waist, I felt nothing. Nothing good anyway. Even if I wanted to start a new one, with a new one... I wouldn’t be able to. I was... broken, already broken but broken in another way, too, now.
“If I let you go, I’m pretty sure you’ll fall,” he warned, tightening his grip.
“Oh,” I said through a light giggle.
If I wasn’t a ‘lil’ tipsy, I would have noticed that the only thing he had pressed against me was his upper body. His crouch didn’t brush against my ass. When he whispered into my ear, his lips didn’t touch it. He kept a respectful distance between us. However, his hold was tight. Secure. He didn’t approach me because he noticed some drunk bitch on the dance floor and wanted to take advantage of the opportunity to get some easy pussy. This was different. He was looking out for me.
“Thank you,” I said, deciding to be a little nicer, before looking over my shoulder to look at him. The minute my eyes met that light skin, thin nose, and a set of full pink lips, I sighed. I knew the voice was a little too familiar.
Chase’s corny ass.
“Hello, Naoki,” he spoke, with a light grin.
Despite his warning, I pried his hand from around my waist and pulled away before he could resist. Stumbled a little, but at least I was out of his embrace. Chase was the last person I wanted to see. Especially after our last conversation. I’d done nothing but treated his ass since meeting him. I had been so snooty and stuck up toward him, just for him to find me like this. Staggering, drunk, dressed down, looking a fucking mess.
“Hi, Chad. Thank you. I’m good,” I rushed, giving him a sweet smile before trying to rush away from him.
Except, that Casa Migo’s and... what was that other tequila I had? Oh. Clase Azul! Clase Azul and Casa Migo’s were doing a bitch dirty, okay?! I didn’t just stagger, I stumbled. A couple times before I lost my footing, completely. Luckily, Chase caught me by the arm and wrapped his arm around my waist.
“Chase,” he stressed, correcting me. “You can barely walk. You can’t run away from me this time,” he joked. “Look, this is innocent. We’re neighbors; let me at least make sure you get home okay. I can’t leave you here like this.”
“Like this? What’s like this? I’m good,” I responded, slightly offended. “Are you trying to instigate that I don’t know how to handle a little bit of liquor?”
He lightly laughed. “The only thing I’m trying to instigate is you allowing me to drive you home. As far as insinuate? I’m not insinuating anything. I’m sure you handle your liquor quite well. You just had a little too much. It’s cool. It happens.”
This time, instead of protesting, I let him help me. Instead of running my mouth, I shut the fuck up. I had nothing else to say anyway. I’d embarrassed myself enough. I didn’t know Chase, but I was letting him take me home. He might’ve been a creep, but he wasn’t the creepy kind. I didn’t think he’d chain me up and throw me in the trunk of his car or no shit like that. A bitch might’ve been a lil’ drunk but I was very well acquainted with ‘Black’. He sat comfortable in my purse. Aim might be a little off, but I’d for sure do damage if Chase turned out to be the ‘creepy’ kind.
Did I trust him? Fuck no. Who in their right mind would trust a man? All they did was lie. They couldn’t form a sentence without lying. Lied so much it was second nature to them. Natural, just like breathing. Trust a man? Me? After what ‘man’ had done to me? For no reason other than being a fucking man? Stole from me. Used me. Discarded me. Abandoned me. Isolated me. Destroyed me. Damaged me.
The first and last time I trusted a man, I regretted it.
This wasn’t about trust. This was about getting home safely, and I would rather take my chances with the sortakinda stranger next door than a random Uber driver. Had I stayed in the house, there wouldn’t be a chance to take. I should have gotten drunk at home. Could’ve danced naked in the middle of my living room, in solitude without judgement.
About ten minutes later, Chase pulled into my driveway. The entire ride in, we were quiet. I was glad he didn’t flirt or try to get to know me. However... I could’ve used a little bit of music. My thoughts ran rampant. Anxiety built as we grew closer and closer to the neighborhood. By the time he pulled into my driveway, my heart was racing, and I was panicking. I didn’t want to go into the house. Dreaded spending another day in there with her. Alone. In that big ass bed, with these loud ass dark ass thoughts, sinking deeper and deeper, further, and further beyond the surface.
Fuck
“You good?” Chase asked.
Lifting my head from the window, I slowly turned to face him. “I’m good but I could be better.” Sultrily, I smiled at him.
Barf. Was this the lows I’d been subjected to? Chase? In his turtleneck? A fucking turtleneck. And a peacoat. A wool peacoat. It was hooded. A wool, hooded peacoat and underneath it he wore a fucking turtleneck. Didn’t that scream corny?. He drank tea, every morning, on a balcony. He bought bitches shades and scribbled his phone number on post it notes. He was corny. With light skin and light eyes. Everything about him screamed run the other way. He wasn’t forme, but he was what I was left with. I didn’t have any options. It was a bad idea. A horrible idea. For many reasons. But tonight I didn’t care. Tonight, I just... I really just couldn’t go in there by myself. I was honestly petrified.
Chase nodded, with a smile. “Yeah, you get some good rest you will be.”
Aw. He wanted to play the long game. He was one of them. The type that liked to beat around the bush, rather than ravishing his way through it like the animal he really was. All of them were. There were just a couple like Chase who would rather keep his animalistic nature hidden before attacking. He carried himself with ‘poise’. Like a gentleman. I piqued him as the type of fuck boy that opened doors for bitches and said shit like ‘chivalry isn’t dead’. Fuck out of here. Chivalry was dead. Men didn’t do anything without motive. And pussy was always the motive.
I didn’t need chivalry.
I needed to be used.
Treated like the slut I was.
I was pathetic.
Very.
Well, not me per se. She was. Sad Girl KiKi. I didn’t do this. I was practically begging for sex. I was seething with desperation, and it had nothing to do with what he had between his legs or what he could do for me. Because the reality of it was that he couldn’t do shit for me. But keep me company. But distract me. But stop me from doing who I really wanted to do.
That magician.
Just as I was about to reduce myself to the lows of asking a man to fuck me, my integrity was saved by bright lights pulling up behind us. With a squint, I looked over my shoulder, and tried to make out the car, but I couldn’t. Lights were too bright, and I was too damn drunk.
“Expecting somebody?” Chase asked, his voice losing that subtle calmness from before. “Got a boyfriend I should know bout?”
I glanced at him, huffed, and unbuckled my seatbelt. “No.”
“Mmh,” He grunted, steady studying his rearview mirror. I noticed as he slickly reached over to the middle console for his gun. “Well, whoever just got out of their car. If it’s a guy, just know... If this ends up bad, I won’t be the one leaving in a body bag. So, I’ll ask again?—”
“Nigga, shut the fuck up,” I annoyingly interrupted, with a heavy eye roll. “Please!”
He made me nervous.
I didn’t get nervous. Not about niggas. Not when I was a single woman who did what the fuck she pleased. But, despite being single, there was this one particular nigga who thought he owned me who would see me drunk, sitting in this car, with this man, and think something of it. And I really didn’t want that. I wasn’t in that space with him.
“I’m just sayin,” Chase continued. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you baby girl.”
I took a deep breath, grabbed my purse, opened the door, and got out. Fuck it. If it was Saint, I’d rather face him head on than for him to walk up to the car and be greeted by this soft ass nigga and his gun.
But it wasn’t Saint.
It was Sienna. And she was pissed.