6 | Simone #2
I turned my phone screen so she could see both notifications and her mouth fell open.
“Ohhhh, not them texting you at the SAME TIME,” she squealed. “See? This is exactly what I’m talking about. Meanwhile, I can’t even get one consistent man, and here you go with two acting like they’re on your schedule.”
I buried my face in my hands. “This is ridiculous.”
“No,” she said, taking a sip of her drink. “This is iconic.”
Emaree and I continued talking for a few more minutes before we went our separate ways. When I got back to the house GiGi was taking a nap, so I decided to let her rest while I freshened up and responded to both Ryan and Samaj’s messages.
Me: Hey Ryan, I’ve been wanting to try that restaurant. Tomorrow night should work, just let me know what time to meet you.
Ryan: Ok cool.
When I got ready to text Samaj I decided to call him instead. I guess I wanted to hear his voice, and a text just wasn’t going to suffice. Truth was, I wanted to hear his voice.
“Hey, you. What you up to?”
“I just got a car wash. Kadeem wants to get another tattoo and is trying to drag me along with him, but I told him I’ll pass, so I’m just chilling. What about you?”
“Just got home not too long ago. I was having lunch with my cousin Emaree. I think you should go hang out with Kadeem.” I suggested.
“You swear I like being around that fool. I take him in doses.”
“You know what I think?” I countered. “I could be wrong, but I think you do enjoy being around him, but you’ve created a habit of staying in the house and closing yourself off.
If you don’t have to go to school or hang out with me, you’ll be cooped up in the house like you’re 70 years old. My GiGi gets out more than you do.”
“What can I say, I’m a homebody.” Samaj faltered.
We both knew there was more to it than that, but I wasn’t about to become Dr. Phil and tell him that so instead I took a different approach.
“You want to come pick me up so we can grab the last of the hygiene items and snacks we’re putting in the bags for the homies?”
“Homies huh? I like that. Makes them more human versus calling them homeless or less fortunate. I can pull up. Just give me like half an hour.”
“Ok cool. And then afterwards tell Kadeem we’ll meet him at the tattoo shop.”
“Not cool. You know I have a harder time telling you no than I do Kadeem.”
“I figured as much. I’ll see you soon. Bye!” I said hanging up before he could try to talk himself out of it.
Samaj and I spent the next few hours shopping for all the items we needed.
Samaj didn’t just tag along and swipe his card to pay, he gave his input, helped choose items and encouraged me to add even more so that the bags would be full of not only things they needed, but things they may enjoy.
This may not seem like a big deal to some, but I didn’t take it lightly.
If you knew me you knew I was accustomed to going out of my way to help others but rarely had people do the same for me.
Samaj showing this much interest and support for something that I held close to my heart was a huge green flag.
We ended up back at my house to put the bags together and by the time we completed the last care package, it was around 8 p.m. My back was aching, but my heart felt full.
Samaj shut the trunk gently, then looked over at me with that soft grin I’d quickly become addicted to seeing.
“Proud of you.”
“Thanks. And thank you for helping me.”
“Anytime. You ready?” he asked.
“Yep,” I said, sliding into his car.
Small world. When we pulled up to the tattoo shop, it happened to be the same one my cousin Emon worked at.
Music was blasting and a small crowd of people were lounging around like this was a living room instead of a business.
Not really my scene, but Emon was family, and I supported him just like he supported me and Emaree in everything we did.
“Simoneyyy! What you doing here?” He said when we walked in.
“Hey, this is Samaj. Samaj this is my cousin Emon.” They dapped each other up just as Kadeem emerged from the back with a chicken wing in hand.
Samaj laughed, shaking his head. “Always eating.”
“Always hatin’.” Kadeem fired back without missing a beat. “I’m surprised you even came. You’re good for ghosting me. I don’t know anybody who loves being laid up in the house as much as you.”
Everyone laughed, except me. Something about the joke tugged at me.
Kadeem said it like it was funny like Samaj choosing to stay inside was just him being introverted.
But the look Samaj gave back, even though it was playful, something flickered underneath.
Maybe I was reading too much into it, or the empath in me was picking up on what he was leaving unsaid.
I knew he was thinking about his brother.
The grief he barely talks about. Even when I asked about his mom a few times, he’d tell me she’s fine and end the conversation there.
After a while I stopped asking because I could see how his whole mood would shift when I brought it up.
It wasn’t him just being a homebody. He stayed home because his grief was keeping him bound in that dark place.
I rolled my eyes but smiled. “Don’t let him fool you. He wanted to come out tonight.” Samaj smirked slightly, looking my way. Not embarrassed, not denying it. Just acknowledging something real and quiet between us.
“Nice to see you again, Simone.” Kadeem said then jumped in the tattoo chair, shirt now off, arm stretched out, grinning like he wasn’t a grown man getting stabbed with a needle.
A couple of ladies came over leaning around him, trying too hard to be seen. I could tell he was used to the attention and that he even enjoyed it. They started giggling at everything he said, even when it wasn’t funny.
Not even five minutes later, the bell above the shop door rang and in walked Emaree looking cute and casual in a matching red hoodie and joggers set with black and red Nike Dunks. Her long jet-black boho braids still looked neat and fresh as if she had just left the salon.
E was confident and effortlessly beautiful.
The kind of woman who could walk past a mirror without checking it because she already knew what she looked like.
I admired her in many ways. She was the perfect mix of book smart and street smart, outspoken, and unapologetic.
She had always been super stylish, slightly tomboyish but with a feminine flair.
“E!” I said, hugging her.
“This is my cousin, and Emon’s twin sister.” I said, motioning between her, Samaj, and Kadeem.
“Emaree—this is Samaj, and that’s Kadeem.” Emaree glanced at Kadeem for half a second, but that half-second said a lot.