Chapter 58 – Kola
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Kola
My parents didn’t have the money to come to my dance recital so while Sylvia, Clover, and the rest of the crew are out with their families, I sit in my bedroom and send videos and pictures to my mom and dad with crossed legs.
They both respond with excitement. My mom has always supported my choreography.
She knows that after the Fox Academy, I plan to stay in London and try working with a black dance crew up here.
Their messages make me so excited to go home.
After everything, my parents are so worried about me and I hate making them worry. What happened won’t destroy my life. I can’t let it.
I watch videos from the recital again, obsessing over how good my friends look in all the dance pieces.
I couldn’t ask for better people to interpret my choreography.
The recital was almost perfect, but I still see some necessary improvements in my choreo.
There’s always room for improvement, right?
Ciara’s my favorite dancer and I love watching her old videos and feeling the nostalgia for a time period I never lived through.
Since I don’t exactly have anyone to hang out with tonight, I rewatch the Goodies video on my phone after I catch my fill of recital videos, and nearly fall asleep when I get a text message.
I assume it’s from the group chat, but when I open my messages, I see it’s from someone more exciting. Jamal.
Jamal: Basketball in the gym?
Me: When?
Jamal: Now
Me: Tired from recital
Jamal: Just come
Ugh. It’s Jamal, so I basically have to go. We’ve been texting for weeks. I’ve mostly been texting him, but he replies at least once a day. He once sent me a picture of his eight-pack which honestly made me drool a little. He still hasn’t asked me out but… maybe that’s what he wants tonight.
I’m sore as hell from the recital, but what the hell.
I grab a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt.
I don’t bother doing much with my hair. Jamal understands that a black woman has to keep her hair all cornrowed up before heading to bed.
I walk all the way to the gym with my headphones in, planning out choreography in my head all the way there.
It took me a while before I was okay walking around campus alone again.
They still don’t have the person who hurt me, but at least security on campus has improved significantly and the police are looking for the man.
I know it was a man, unfortunately. I don’t remember everything, but I remember enough to hurt like hell.
That man took something from me that I’ll never get back and even if my therapist and everyone else tells me it isn’t my fault, I can’t help but feel like he ruined me. This is the first time Jamal has asked me to hang out since the whole incident, so maybe he doesn’t see me as totally broken.
I still like Jamal. He’s a fine ass black man in every damn sense of the word.
He’s a tall pillar of muscle carved out of dark chocolate.
We have the same skin tone, so we’d have these cute dark skinned babies with fat cheeks and soft 4c hair.
Not like I think about making babies with Jamal on a regular basis or anything. I’m just saying.
I can hear the ball bouncing against the hard maple flooring before I get to the school basketball courts. Jamal must’ve already been here. I push the door open and he shoots a three-pointer and misses.
“Fuck’s sake!” he mutters.
See? White boys aren’t the only ones with cute British accents.
“Hi Jamal.”
“You came!”
He jogs over to me, his huge muscles dripping in sweat.
Phew. Save the white boys for the other girls because men like Jamal just do it for me.
He’s so damn fine that I always feel weak and silly when he approaches me, even if we’re just friends.
My stomach does that annoying flip thing and whenever he smiles at me, it basically imprints in my brain.
“Yeah, I’m ready to play.”
“Cool. I’ll get the ball.”
He flashes me that million dollar smile and my heart flutters.
Jamal races for the ball and bounces it a couple times before passing over to me.
We shoot and pass to each other and then Jamal suggests a three-pointer competition.
Considering how I saw him miss that shot, I bet I could do pretty well in a contest.
“Game on.”
He tosses the ball to me. “You first.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes, but I’ll be right behind you giving you shit, yeah?”
“Bring it on, Jamal. Bring it on.”
I head to the three point line and stare at the basket.
Okay, it’s way too far away and I strongly doubt I’ll make a single shot, but my competitive streak takes over and I fix the basket in my gaze.
I’m focusing so hard, I don’t even notice anything Jamal says or does. I try to shoot and I hit the board.
“Damn!”
“Almost,” Jamal says, coming up behind me. He’s close to me. My crush is so close to me. He reaches around me and I think he’s going to give me a hug, but Jamal’s hands wrap around my breasts and he squeezes. This is not a hug. It’s a grope.
I gasp and whip myself around and away from him.
“Jamal!”
“What?”
My chest heaves and my mouth tastes gross and wet and salty, like I’m about to throw up. Stay in control, Kola. It’s not a big deal.
“I’m not ready for that! I’m not… You groped my boobs.”
“Come on, Kola. It’s obvious you have a crush on me.”
“Jamal, seriously?”
He comes closer to me and puts his hand on my hips.
“What’s the problem? You’ve been sniffing around me all pathetic. I want you, okay? We can do it. I’ll even turn the lights off if you’re ashamed of your body or something.”
I want to wriggle out of his grasp, but he holds me tighter.
I try to explain myself but before I can get a single word out, he kisses me with an extremely wet kiss.
I’ve honestly never had a kiss with that much liquid in it.
Jamal’s filling my mouth with his saliva like a gas tank and I want to choke and push him off and slap him in the fucking face.
I pull away and push against his chest.
“Jamal, stop!”
“You are such a slut,” he sneers. “Seriously? It’s obvious you want to fuck me and I’ll do it even if there’s white girls that want me.”
“Am I supposed to feel grateful that you’re choosing me over a white girl?”
He still won’t let go of me. I don’t want to overreact and kick him in the nuts, but every cell in my body’s telling me to get the fuck away from Jamal and get the fuck out of here.
“Yes,” he says. “Now shut up. Look at yourself, Kola. Men aren’t exactly lining up for girls like you.”
He shoves his hand forcefully into my sweatpants, taking me by surprise.
I scream and try to fight back but he carries me across the courts and shoves me against the wall, his hands forcing my thighs apart.
I scream. I scream so fucking loudly and try kicking him, but I can’t do much because he’s hurting me.
I just had surgery down there and danced and he’s taken me by complete surprise.
I shriek in pain and try to fight him off. The pain is so fucking blinding that I don’t hear the door to the courts open.
“GET OFF HER!” I hear someone scream. Then I hear footsteps running across the basketball courts.
Jamal shoves me against the wall and all the air evacuates my lungs.
He lets me drop to the ground and I see a flash of blond as a fist heads straight towards Jamal’s face and I fall completely unconscious.
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