Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Hood
Ichecked the time on my AP for what had to be the tenth time. Eight o’clock. I ain’t been this nervous since the judge handed me six years. Crazy, I’ve stood in front of guns, beat cases, and survived prison. Yet here I was, sweating over one woman, Fumi.
I pulled into her folks’ driveway a few minutes early. I wasn’t taking any chances tonight. This wasn’t just a date; it was my opportunity. I rang the doorbell. A few seconds later, her Pops opened the door.
“What up, Hood.”
“What’s up, Mr. Miles?”
He stepped aside. “Come on in.”
The smell of soul food hit me before I made it three steps inside. Mrs. Miles smiled when she saw me.
“Hood.”
“Hey, Mrs. Miles.”
“Are you hungry?”
“No, ma’am.”
Mrs. Miles looked at me like she already knew I was lying. Before she could say anything, Fumi walked around the corner. Damn, she looked good as fuck. Nothing extra, just... Fumi. My eyes followed Fumi across the room. She rolled hers.
“What?”
“I can’t look?”
“You’re staring too damn hard, thirsty ass.”
“I’ve been waiting six years to.”
Fumi sucked her teeth. “Let’s go.”
Before we walked out, she picked up a covered plate from the kitchen counter. She handed it to me.
“What’s this?”
“A plate.”
“I know it’s a plate.”
“It’s for you.”
I looked at her. “For me?”
“You probably ain’t ate shit because you’re too busy getting on my last nerve. This is the last good meal yo ass gon’ get.”
For a second, I forgot how to speak. Seven years later, she still wondered whether a nigga ate. I smiled to myself. “Appreciate you.”
“Don’t, what?”
“Read into it.”
I chuckled. “Too late.”
Her Pops laughed from the living room. “Y’all be safe.”
“I got her,” I answered.
Mr. Miles looked me straight in the eyes. “I know.”
That carried more weight than he probably realized, yet he still trusted me with his daughter. The ride was quiet, but not uncomfortable. Just careful, neither of us wanted to say the wrong thing.
“You hungry?” I asked.
“Nigga, I just ate.”
“I figured. You still bringing me a plate says different.”
Fumi looked out the passenger window. “I wasn’t gonna let you starve; maybe I should’ve. You think me bringing you a plate means something, and it don’t.”
“I appreciate it.”
“You already said that.”
“I meant it.”
Fumi shook her head. “You’re always talking.”
“Nah, just to you.”
Fumi didn’t respond, but she didn’t tell me to shut up either. I’d take it. I parked near the Beltline.
Fumi looked around. “Damn, we’re walking?”
“Yeah, I got to let these niggas know you still mine. I can carry you, Fumi. Let me pick yo ass up, though.” I laughed.
“Hood, fuck you… I’m single. I’m only here because you blackmailed me. I should’ve worn different shoes. I don’t want you touching me.”
“You’re complaining already? Come on, I told you I’ll carry you.”
“I ain’t complaining, and you ain’t getting any free feels. I’m just saying you could’ve given me a heads-up.”
“You sound like it.”
Fumi bumped into my shoulder as we started walking. “Whatever, nigga, hurry up so we can get this shit over with.”
There it is; I missed this. The city was alive; the music floated through the air. Kids were laughing. The dogs nearby were barking loud as fuck. Folks were riding bikes and scooters. For the first time since I came home, everything started to slow down.
“You still get that frozen lemonade,” I asked.
She stopped walking. “You remember that?”
I looked over at her. “I remember everything about you.”
Fumi looked away first. “Come on, thirsty.”
She started walking again. I smiled; it wasn’t easy getting her ass here.
“Look, I ain’t finna do all this walking and be seen with yo ass. Let’s bowl,” she said, pointing at The Painted Duck.
“That’s cool.”
“It’s been a minute. Let me hurry up and beat you so I can send you on your way.”
“You sure about that?”
“I’m positive.”
Fumi talked cash shit the moment we walked in. “You probably still can’t fucking bowl.”
“How would you know? You ain’t bowled with me in seven years.”
“It doesn’t matter. I remember shit.”
“Oh, so you remember everything?”
“I told you I do.”
I stepped up to the counter to pay for the game. The cashier asked for our shoe size and handed us a pair of shoes. Fumi sat on the bench to put her shoes on.
“You want me to put your shoes on so you can stop running.” Fumi looked at me and rolled her eyes.
“You good? I’m running for a reason. Put your shoes on and take this ass whoop in.”
“We’ll see… You want something to drink before I tap yo ass.”
“I’m good.”
We finished lacing up and headed to our lane. Fumi rolled the first strike. Then turned around smiling like she’d won the damn lottery.
“I told you.”
“You ass got lucky.”
“I got skilled.”
I laughed. Damn... I had forgotten how competitive she was. By the tenth frame, I had beaten her by six points.
She folded her arms, pissed off. “You cheated.”
“I beat yo ass fair and square.”
“Best two out of three.”
“Nah.”
“You scared.”
“I’m trying to protect your feelings, right now.”
She pointed at me. “Since when have you done that? Protecting my feelings means letting me win.”
“I want you to win at something else.” I laughed so hard that my stomach hurt.
“Whatever, I still don’t like you.”
Fumi’s laugh. I hadn’t heard it in years. And hearing it tonight... made every day behind that wall worth surviving.
We left the bowling alley and decided to walk a little longer before calling it a night. I heard a nigga call her name.
“Fumi.”
We both turned around to see who the nigga was calling her name. Fumi looked at me, her eyes pleading with me not to react. “Please don’t start,” she whispered. I nodded.
“Cohen.”
So, this was the same nigga she left the club with.
Cohen walked over, calm as hell. The nigga was confident.
I’d give him that. Thank God he wasn’t cocky, because I’d have to drop his ass.
He was comfortable, though, because Fumi is out here giving this nigga hope like I’m going to accept it, and I ain’t.
“I thought we had plans tonight.”
Fumi looked over at me before answering. “We did, but something came up.”
Oh, she had a date with this nigga. Yeah, she did right by canceling it.
“I see.”
I stepped forward and extended my hand. “Hood.”
“I’m Cohen.” We shook hands firmly and made eye contact. Neither of us flinched. He looked at Fumi. “You good?” Cohen asked.
“I’m good.”
“Cool.” He smiled. “Call me tomorrow.”
“I will.”
“Enjoy your evening.”
Then he walked off, and I watched him disappear into the crowd.
“He seems like a solid nigga.”
Fumi looked at me. “He is.”
That one answer hit harder than any punch I’d ever taken.
I nodded. “I respect that.”
Because I did. Cohen wasn’t pretending to be something he wasn’t, and that made me realize... If I wanted Fumi back... I couldn’t compete with Cohen. I didn’t have to. I had to become a better version of myself.
Ipulled into her folks’ driveway a few minutes before midnight. Neither one of us rushed to get out. I put the Porsche in park.
“Well...” Fumi reached for the door handle. “Fumi.” She looked over at me.
“What?”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For giving me one night.”
Fumi studied me for a second. “Don’t get used to it.”
“I won’t.”
Fumi climbed out and started walking toward the house. Halfway to the porch... She turned around. “Hey, Hood.”
“Yeah?”
“The date wasn’t terrible.”
A grin spread across my face. “I’ll take it.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Don’t.”
Too late.
That was the nicest thing she’d said to me since I came home. And for tonight... that was enough. I tossed my phone onto the passenger seat and started the Porsche. Before I could pull off...
My phone started ringing again. It’s an unknown number. I answered, but I didn’t say a shit. I already know who it is.
“So... you’re just gonna answer the phone and not say nothing?”
I recognized her voice immediately.
“How you get my number?”
She laughed. “I got my ways.”
“What you want?”
“You.”
I shook my head. “You made it clear you were choosing another direction. So, what’s the fucking issue? Move around, Adrienne.”
“Hood... You won’t be satisfied until I hurt both of y’all.”
My expression hardened.
“Aye... I don’t take threats lightly. I suggest you fucking chill out.”
Silence.
“I already know you’re the one who fucked up Fumi’s Benz.
” Adrienne didn’t deny it. “I still don’t wanna fuck with you.
Do me a favor and stand on the same shit you were talking about when I got out.
You told me to move on, so I did. This is my last time telling yo ass to move the fuck around before I move yo ass around. ”
Adrienne paused for a beat. “You really choosing her over me?”
“There ain’t no choice. I already chose. It’s always been her. I just forgot to act like it.”
Adrienne let out a bitter laugh. “You’re gonna regret this shit.”
“I don’t regret shit. The only thing I regret is not making yo ass move on sooner… The only thing I regret now is wasting another minute on this meaningless conversation.”
Click.
I ended the call. Some people don’t know when to walk away, and Adrienne was one of them.
It took me about twenty-five minutes to get back to my spot. The whole ride home... I couldn’t stop thinking about Fumi. The date went better than I expected. Fumi laughed and talked shit, and she almost forgot she was supposed to be mad at me.
I tossed my keys onto the kitchen counter and looked around the house. It was quiet, too damn quiet. I slid my phone out of my pocket and called Fumi. She sent me straight to voicemail.
I laughed to myself. “Petty ass,” I called her right back. This time... she answered.
“What?”
“You busy?”
Fumi let out a long sigh. “Didn’t I just see yo’ ass?”
“Yeah.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“What you want, Hood?”
“You.”
Silence.
“Not sure why. We had our date, and that was it.”
“That’s what you think?”
“That’s what I know.”
I leaned against the kitchen counter and grinned. “So... we can’t be friends?”
“No, I got enough friends.”
“Oy yeah.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know. I ain’t trying to be your friend anyway.”
She paused. “What?”
“You heard me… I don’t want friendship. I want another chance.”
“Hood, you don’t get to decide that.”
“I know you do.”
Fumi went silent again. “I told you, one day, but not today.”
“I remember… I remember everything you say.”
She sighed again. “Why are you so hardheaded?”
“‘Cause you’re worth it.” I heard Fumi suck her teeth.
“You got an answer for every damn thing.”
“Nah.”
“Just when it comes to you.”
Fumi didn’t respond. I grinned; she still hadn’t hung up. That was progress.
“Fumi...”
“What?”
“Aye, yo ass smiled on our date.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yo ass laughed too.”
“I laugh at a lot of things.”
“But you laughed with me.”
Silence.
“You are reading too much into it.”
“Maybe.”
“But I know what I saw.”
“Hood...”
“What’s up?”
“I’m hanging up.”
“Before you do...”
“What?”
“I had a good time, Fumi.”
She didn’t answer right away. When Fumi finally spoke, her voice was softer than before.
“...Me too.”
Click.
The line went dead. I stared at my phone for a long moment, then tossed it onto the couch. Fumi admitted it. It wasn’t much, but for her, it was everything.