1. Nylah
Nylah
“Iknow this nigga hears his phone ringing,” I mumbled under my breath while trying to sew an arm sleeve to a dress.
I was barely halfway through putting this dress together for a project I had for school, and every time I tried to focus, one of Kyron’s phones would ring from the bedroom.
The shit finally stopped.
I smiled and put a few more stitches in while checking my design when…
Riiing…
I closed my eyes.
“Just ignore it, Nylah,” I said to myself.
It went silent again. I let out a deep breath, thankful for the peace. I went on measuring, cutting thread, checking my design, making sure I didn’t want to make any changes, then once again…
Riiing…
Then his other phone started going off.
I slammed both my hands on my desk.
“Kyron!”
Nothing.
“Kyron!”
Still nothing.
I shook my head and lit my blunt, trying to calm my nerves and focus on what was important when it started again, but this time both his phones were going off.
I hopped up from my desk, stormed up the hall, and pushed the bedroom door open to see him knocked out in the middle of the bed, snoring like the nigga worked all damn day, but all he really did was drink.
I opened my mouth to get on his ass, but the phone rang again.
I closed my mouth and walked over to his nightstand and picked up his phone.
It was no name, just a 347 number.
The phone rang, then stopped, then five seconds later it rang again.
I looked at Kyron. That nigga didn’t move an inch and was snoring like he worked a twelve-hour shift when all he did was walk around the Bronx, drink, and eat up all my food.
The phone was still ringing in my hand, and I was over it, so I answered it.
“Hello?” I said as I picked up the phone.
“Where’s Kyron at?” she asked with an attitude.
“Who is asking?” I said softly while looking at him, bout ready to fuck him up.
“Who the fuck are YOU?” the girl yelled into the phone. “And why are you answering my man’s phone?!”
“BITCH, who ya man?! The nigga that’s layin’ in my bed?! The nigga that eats my pussy every night! Bitch, you bird!” I yelled into the phone.
In the middle of me and this bitch screaming back and forth at each other, Kyron jumped up and tried to snatch the phone outta my hand.
I ran outta the room to the living room with him right behind me.
“NYLAH!” he yelled at me. “GIVE ME MY FUCKIN’ PHONE!”
“Who is this, Kyron?”
“Nobody!” he shot back. “The bitch crazy. I just sold her some weed.”
“Crazy!” Shorty on the phone shot back. “We were just at yo’ mama’s house the other day and went to your sister’s baby shower.”
My eyes got wide.
“The same baby shower you told me you wasn’t going to?” I asked him.
“I didn’t go to my sister’s baby shower, Nylah. I told you I wasn’t.”
The girl on the phone went silent.
“Check his messages.”
Kyron tried to stop me, but I went to his messages and saw that she sent a picture of them at the baby shower, and I showed it to him.
“So this ain’t you at Mariah’s baby shower? Nigga, you a whole clown.”
Me and Kyron started going back and forth. He was trying to plead his case while I had already made up my mind, and the girl on the phone was still trying to get his attention, and I had to shut everything the fuck down.
“Listen, bitch, I don’t know who you are, I don’t care who you are, all I’ma tell you is that you can have him.”
I hung up the phone.
Kyron looked at me like I was supposed to be scared of him. That nigga put no fear in my heart. I took a seat on the couch and placed his phone on speaker.
“This is who you been fuckin’?” I asked him.
He shook his head. “Come on, Ny, you know it’s not like that. She buggin’, Ny, you know I wouldn’t do that to you.”
I had nothing left to say. He saw me as a joke, and I had to show him I got the last laugh.
My house went silent, and it was just me and him staring at each other.
“It is two in the morning. I am trying to work on my project, not to mention I have work in a few hours—something you don’t know about—and I gotta deal with your phone steady ringing. Then, when I answer it, I find out my man is a community dick.”
“Listen, Nylah, I am telling you—”
I put my hand up, cutting him off.
“I work, I pay the bills, I take care of everything in the house while you are supposed to be getting on your feet. In and outta jail, bullshit after bullshit. I have put up with a lot of shit from you, but this shit right here, I will not deal with.”
Kyron looked at me like he was defeated. That nigga lost his job a year ago, took his last paycheck to flip it, and got locked up and hasn’t been right since.
“Nylah, I am sorry. I had a weak moment. You have been busy and shit… I fucked up.”
I nodded, but I wasn’t being understanding.
“So, me in school, me working my day job, then working a night job three days a week to keep us afloat gives you the chance to cheat on me instead of stepping up and helping me!” I yelled out, but he didn’t respond right away.
Kyron just looked at me like he was trying to think of the right words to say, but he knew he had nothing to say.
I stood up and handed him back his phone.
“I need you to get your shit and go.”
Kyron tilted his head while I sat back down at my computer and got back to work.
“What do you mean I need to get my shit and go?”
I looked up at him slightly. “What didn’t you understand?”
He looked at me, shocked, mouth wide open as he backed up and sat down on the loveseat, staring off into the distance as if somebody took the air out of his body.
“You want to break up?”
“Yes,” I said quickly. “You don’t feed me, obviously you’re not fuckin’ me, you don’t pay a damn bill—not even a subscription. You are not a need in this house.”
I started typing while feeling Kyron's eyes on me.
“Can we start over? I’ll work harder on getting a job.”
I shook my head. “Kyron, you had a year to do that. You tried to act like I was some dummy out here.”
“I didn’t, Nylah. I love you, don’t do this.”
I didn’t respond to him. I kept working while he talked to me, trying to convince me we had so much going for us and to not give up on him, like this shit came outta nowhere.
This went on for hours. Long after I finished my work, I just stared at him and smoked my blunt until it was done.
“Kyron, we are done. I am done. Just get ya shit and leave.”
Kyron acted as if I wasn’t talking to him.
“We just need another chance—I just need another chance.”
I laughed at him and walked back to the room. As I stood in the doorway, it was like I was seeing shit for the first time. I had to be too mad to see it the first time.
There was an empty Hennessy bottle in the middle of the bed. His Timbs kicked the dresser. My clothes that I put on the bed were thrown on the floor.
I let out a loud sigh.
“He has to go…tonight.”
I walked over to the closet and started pulling his shit out, swinging it over my shoulder left and right.
“Aye! Aye! What are you doing?!” Kyron yelled at me.
I didn’t respond and continued to pull his shit out.
“I am helping you get your shit so that you can get the fuck outta here!”
Kyron stood there like I was trippin’. That shit pissed me off more. I pushed past him and went to the kitchen to get some trash bags.
“Come on, Nylah, we can fix this.”
I laughed as I walked back to the bedroom.
“How can WE do anything when I have been doing everything, Kyron? You had the time and the chance to get it right. The only reason you sayin’ any of this is because I caught you cheating.”
Back in the room, I put all his clothes on the bed, and his shoes. I got his socks and briefs, his toothbrush. Hell, I even gave him the rest of the laundry detergent. He followed me around the whole time, not helping with a damn thing until I pulled his bags to the front door.
“Nylah, where the fuck am I supposed to go? You are fucked up for this.”
I laughed. “I am fucked up for this, Kyron?” I held my hand out.
Kyron frowned.
“What?”
I wiggled my fingers.
“Rent, nigga.”
He continued to just stare at me.
“Go ahead,” I said. “Put something in my hand.”
The nigga went silent for the first time since I woke his ass up. Looked me up and down, sucked his teeth, and I opened the front door.
I smiled. “Exactly what the fuck I thought. Get the fuck outta my crib.”
Kyron stood there looking at me like I was playin’, like I packed up all his shit ’cause I wanted a new workout.
“You are a whole bitch,” I said as I tossed his bags out the door onto the steps. We lived in the Bronx. No matter what time it was, it was niggas out, and they were already clownin’ his ass.
“I knew that bad bitch was gonna let ya ass go!” somebody yelled from across the street.
“Good job, baby girl,” Mrs. Jenkins yelled. “You can do bad all by yourself.”
Once all his shit was on the steps, I stood to the side, letting him walk out.
“So, we are really done?”
I laughed, closed the door in his face, walked my cute ass back to my room, got back in bed, and rubbed my feet together.
My apartment was finally quiet. No phone ringing, no nigga snoring, no extra baggage in my life that wasn’t needed.
Just me for the first time in two years, and it felt so damn good.
I made good money and stayed on top of my shit. My pussy was too good to be wasted on a broke-ass nigga who couldn’t even help pay for the roof over his own head.
I smiled and got comfortable, pulling the blanket up on me.
The summer wasn’t over yet.
A bitch still had time to be outside.