Chapter 4 YOU DON’T KNOW ME #3
“You tell me. There was something… off between the two of you.”
“Nah, ain’t nothing.” He tipped his cup to his lips. “Why you grilling me anyway?”
“Grilling about what?” A familiar voice perked up from behind him.
His twin sister, Henna, slid up beside him.
She kept it casual in skinny jeans, a tank top, and a yellow windbreaker with a pair of yellow and white Nike Air Max.
With long auburn hair parted on the side and flowing in waves past her shoulders, she looked back and forth between them. Obviously, she’d missed something.
“What’s going on? What you drinking?”
“Where you come from?” Heavy peeked around because he hadn’t noticed her before. “Nosy ass.”
“You only call me nosy when you trying to hide something.” She sucked her teeth and reached for his cup.
“I just came to get a drink and go back to my table. I’m chilling.” Heavy held it out of her reach. “Get your own damn drink.”
“Ass.” Henna twisted her mouth, brows bunching together in annoyance.
Heavy leaned in, held up his two fingers, and kissed her cheek as she tapped the same two fingers against his twice.
It was their signature acknowledgement of each other since they were kids.
Locked in. It was something their mother came up with, and it became something that their parents did as well.
He made a quick path between her and Prischa before they both started a damn interview.
“What the hell is up with him?” Henna asked.
“I think it’s more like who,” Prischa noted.
“Okay, spill it, Pri. What you know?”
“It’s what he’s not saying.”
“About what?” Henna reared her neck, confusion wrinkling her face.
“Her.” Prischa nodded toward a few feet away, where Giselle stood with Maisie and Lou.
She stood out like a sore thumb, gripping her cup in her hand with it turned into her chest. The music switching up to Ella Mai’s “Hearts on Deck” seemed to loosen her up as she swayed a bit and snapped her fingers at her side.
Lou hyped her up on the side, mouthing the words with her and throwing one of her hands in the air.
She snapped and two stepped beside her and went back and forth on Ella’s verse, catching a whole vibe that Maisie captured on her phone.
“Who is that?” Henna queried, somehow spotting her brother near Crew’s table.
Posted in a lawn chair, legs propped open with his cup to his lips, he seemed to fall into some kind of trance watching Giselle smile and enjoy herself. He gulped his drink slowly, lowering the cup into his lap but never taking his eyes off her. Well damn, a voice in Henna’s head screamed.
“Giselle. According to Heavy, she’s Maisie’s cousin,” Prischa informed her.
“O-K,” Henna dragged. “What she got to do with Heavy?”
Obviously, that was a dumb question with the way he was devouring that girl with his gaze.
He may as well have been branding her with the way his eyes burned.
Heavy was her brother, so she’d always have his back.
It was just a little harder to do when it came to Prischa.
She was his girl, his ace. He’d do anything for her and Pierre, except the one thing she knew Prischa wanted more than anything.
“He’s just been acting like he’s checked out or something,” Prischa complained, breaking into Henna’s thoughts. “The night of the storm he says she came into the shop. He’s been off since then. He was late picking Pierre up for school the next day. Heavy is never late, especially for Lil P.”
“So, what did he say happened?”
“He didn’t, just that something came up, and he had to take care of it at the shop. He lost track of time.”
“Well, I mean it sounds like that might be it, Pri. What else could it be? The power did go out that night. I’m sure he had to deal with some shit. You know he loves Lil P. He would not leave him hanging like that purposely,” Henna insisted.
“You’re right.”
“I am… but have you thought that maybe you’re projecting some shit?” Henna grabbed a cup and surveyed her options as far as her poison.
She always thought if Prischa could find someone else, maybe she would be able to get over Heavy, but the girl never opened herself up to it. In a way, Henna kind of understood it because she’d lost a man before. Pierre Sr. was probably the closest she’d gotten to a love outside of Heavy.
“Projecting what?”
“The fact that you’re still in love with my brother. Always have been, maybe always will be?” Henna addressed her carefully.
Prischa was known to be emotional and act off that, so she wanted to tread lightly with her.
Deciding on tequila like her brother, she chose to make hers a sunrise and topped it off with some orange juice.
Prischa’s warm brandy tinted eyes landed on her best friend’s twin.
She and Henna were tight, practically like sisters themselves, and she considered her family.
She was probably the only person in the world that she could confide in and not feel judged.
Henna had her own dirt, but she owned all her shit and never made excuses.
“I… that’s…” The girl couldn’t even complete her sentence. “I care about him. Of course, I do. He’s Pierre’s godfather. We go back over fifteen years.”
“Mmm hmm, lots of history,” Henna agreed, inhaling a whiff of her liquor before tossing back a shot.
“So, I don’t want anybody to come in and use him or take advantage. That has never changed.”
“No.” Henna shook her head.
“Look at her. She walked up in here at a block party looking like she’s on the damn runway in those heels.” Prischa sneered.
“I mean, it’s a couple of little thotties traipsing around here in booty shorts and heels too,” Henna mumbled.
“I don’t know the girl, okay. She obviously got you rattled, though, and I think you need to be honest with yourself.
Hypothetically, if Heavy did end up with some other chick…
and we both know that’s a long shot, but if he did…
how would you feel? Could you accept that? ”
Prischa’s silence spoke volumes. She leaned against the table, arms tucked over her breasts, shaking her head.
“If he was happy. If the person he was with was good to him and for him. We don’t know her.”
“Girl, and neither does he. You’re jumping to conclusions out of your own fear.
So, you need to figure out how much more you can tolerate in this.
If being around him is too much, maybe you should fall back,” Henna advised, eyes clouded with empathy.
“Or tell him how it is. You can’t be around him like that because you want more, and he can’t give it to you. He’s not going to get mad at you.”
“Yeah,” Prischa scoffed. “That’s kind of the point, Henna. He’ll be understanding and still show up from a distance for me and Pierre, but he won’t be my friend anymore.” It was obvious she loved Heavy, but Henna didn’t believe that even Prischa was the right match for her brother.
He’d purposely isolated himself, and if you got any of his time or dick, you’d better use it wisely. Quick to cut someone off, she’d never known him to have anyone close to him aside from Prischa. At one point, she also thought they would end up together.
Eyes glistening, Prischa observed infatuation from the man she was in love with, but it was for someone else. Talk about a knife to the gut.
“He’s always going to show up because that’s who he is, but he’s never going to look at me like that.”
“Have a drink.” Henna shoved her cup into her hand.
“You’re right about one thing, that one right there is not his speed.
You never know what can happen down the road.
So, you need to lighten up and figure out which one of these fine ass niggas you gon’ entertain today?
I was always told that the best way to get over one man is to get under another.
You already know half the town been checking for you, but you got them scared to talk to you.
Put some distance between you and Heavy if you need to, for you.
These are all choices you need to make for yourself, though.
Don’t let me be the influence.” She pressed a hand into her chest and tossed an arm across Prischa’s shoulders.
“Weren’t you just the one talking about a hot girl summer?” Prischa jested.
“Hell yeah. Why the hell not? We on flights and flings! Leaving our feelings in the rearview.”