Bad as in Good (36 page)

He squeezed his pant legs and balled his fists. “What do you mean, Loraine?”

“I've met someone else. I can't keep leadin' you on like this. You want more, and I can't give you that. Not after what you put me through.”

“Loraine, I've changed. Can't you see that? I'm here tryna be the man you deserve. The man I was when we were first together. You wanna throw all this away for some dude you barely know?”

“Well, here's the thing…” She grabbed a lock of hair and crossed her legs. “Your old frat brother, Julian…he's the guy that I've been talkin' to.”

“What? Talkin' to
how?”

“We haven't had sex, but I met him online. I didn't know he was your frat brother at first, not until I saw him in person.”

“How…what are you…how long?”

“A few months.”

Lorenz stood up and paced the floor. He looked more irritated than angry. I tried not to watch, but with a train wreck right before my eyes, I could do nothing less. He wiped the sweat from the top of his head and then squeezed his fists. He looked down at Loraine and frowned. “What has this man told you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you have sex with this man?”

“No. I told you I didn't.” Loraine stood up and attempted to hold a strong defense. “Lorenz, I know this is hard, but…”

“Do you know why I stopped talkin' to him? Do you remember that he was married when you first met him?”

“Vaguely, but he told me he got a divorce. I don't care why you two stopped being friends, Lorenz. What does that have to do with me?”

“His wife left him 'cause he cheated on her.”

“He tol' me that, too. I know what you're trying to do, and it won't work. I want to be with him.”

Rubbing his face, he shook his head and continued to pace the floor. “Did he tell you what happened after he cheated?”

“Why does that matter?” Loraine put her hands on her hips and rolled her neck.

Lorenz stopped pacing and calmed his shoulders. Staring into Loraine's eyes, he whispered, “He caught something.”

Loraine jerked her head back in disbelief. “Whatever, Lorenz. Why are you doin' this? You think you can—”

“AIDS, Loraine. He contracted AIDS. That's why his wife left him.”

Loraine swallowed another lump in her throat. She grabbed another lock of her hair and walked to the other side of her couch. “Is this a joke to you, Lorenz?”

“Why would I joke about this? After his wife left him, he was messed up. He loved her, and he fucked up. He couldn't find another woman who would be willin' to date a man with AIDS. After a while, he stopped tellin' them. I couldn't stay cool with a man as trifling as that.”

“You're wrong, Lorenz. You're so full of shit. Julian isn't…you don't know what the fuck you're talking about!”

Lorenz shrugged his shoulders and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Ask him yourself. If I'm lying, you don't have to ever speak to me again.”

They stared at each other. My hands shook as I stood in the kitchen, a voyeur into their dialogue. Loraine chewed on her bottom lip as she stared at her floor spinning her locks. “Get out.”

“Loraine…”

“Get the fuck out, Lorenz. I'm done with this conversation. You need to leave.”

Lorenz put up his hands in surrender. He walked to her door and spoke softly as he said, “Ask him, Loraine. Don't take my word for it.”

He walked out and closed the door behind him. Loraine stood behind her couch spinning, twirled her dreads, and began tapping her foot. I walked up behind her and patted her shoulder. She jumped as she turned to face me. “Are you okay?”

She shook her head. “He practically begged me to fuck him, Erin. Begged me. If it weren't for Lorenz, I would've, too. What if Lorenz is right?”

I found Loraine's phone from her kitchen counter and handed it to her. “Only one way to find out.”

She pulled the phone out of my hand and whimpered. “What if
he's right, Erin? I remember the day Lorenz stopped talkin' to Julian. He cut him off like he was nothing. And Lorenz doesn't shun friends for nothing. He's loyal, to his friends at least. And this was his frat brother, his line brother. They were close. What if he's right?”

“Call him.”

Loraine looked down at her phone, dropped it on the floor and shook her head. “No, I'm going to ask him in person. I have to know, and I have to see his face when he answers me.” Loraine seized her purse and car keys from the coffee table.

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“No, I have to do this on my own.” She stomped out of her front door and didn't look back. I stood in the middle of her living room with my heart racing.

“G
et dressed. We're going clubbin'.”
I read Loraine's text briefly. I hadn't heard from her in a couple days. I blew her phone up wanting to make sure she was all right, but I never received a response. All the while, Louis had been blowing me up looking to rekindle what we had. He had more time to think, and he was ready to forgive; I was done, though. Tariq hadn't said a word. I wasn't in the mood to go clubbin'. My mind was an emotional dumpster, and I couldn't handle strangers asking for dances I wasn't in the mood to give. I also didn't feel like avoiding flirtatious innuendos. When Loraine wanted to go clubbin', she was lookin' for an outlet to release a frustration that liquor couldn't wash away. Still, I wanted to lie in bed and watch Lifetime movies.

Tariq texted me. After he kicked me out of his condo, I hadn't expected to ever hear from Tariq. I didn't want to. I relished in the possibility of being rid of him. My purpose in going to see Tariq was to end things. I couldn't be with a man who couldn't end a marriage he refused to address. Still, I had to read it. When his three-and-a-half-line text appeared in my inbox, I sat up and wiped the Goldfish cracker crumbs from my sweatshirt.
“She signed the divorce
papers, it's done. I can't get you out of my mind. I wanna talk to you.”

I texted back,
“I'm done with you. I thought you were done with me too.”

The three minutes it took to receive a response were the longest
three minutes of my existence. I shouldn't have been looking for a response, but I figured one was coming. When it finally came through, I hesitated. I was scared of what he had to say next. My hand shook. I had to stand up and pace my bedroom floor. There were so many thoughts going through my mind. Two nights ago, my lover and my man had it out, leaving Louis bloody and swollen. I cringed when I felt a pain creep up the left side of my skull. I took a deep breath and prepared myself for whatever was about to come next.
“I don't know if I can ever be done with you. Throwin' you out like that was fucked up on my part. My mind was gone. Can I come over?”

My hand shook badly, I jumped when my phone banged against my carpeted bedroom floor. I finger-combed my hair and held my headboard for support when I felt the room spin. I didn't respond. I closed my eyes and stopped breathing. I refused to open my eyes until things started making sense. This morning, I was happy with the way things ended with Tariq. With Tariq married, there was no future for us, no matter how well he tried to sell it. Now, Tariq gave me options. Options that I should ignore. I didn't want to hear it anymore. I wanted peace of mind. Instead of texting back, I ran into the shower and left my phone on the floor.

As I toweled off from a quick and hot shower, I saw the red indicator on my phone blinking. I ignored it. I rummaged through my closet in search of an outfit. When I found my beige Herve Leger bandage dress, I squeezed into it and slipped into snakeskin platform pumps. I combed my hair down, pinned the front up, and let my diamond studs sparkle. Dressed to kill, I finally picked my phone up from the floor and sighed. The first text was from Loraine.
“Are you down, or not?”

I swiftly replied back.
“On the way.”

The second text was from Tariq.
“After all I put you through, I
can't blame you for wanting to be done with me. But I need to spend the night with you. Can I come over, please?”

“I already made plans with Loraine.”

I grabbed my keys and clutch purse as I rushed out the door. My haste suggested the possibility that I was fleeing from a predator. I was. I couldn't handle my love life preying on my psyche as it did. Now, I needed strange men asking me for a dance and flirtatious innuendos. I could handle
that
. Those men meant nothing to me. I could easily flip my hair in their faces as I strutted off with no remorse. I held the power as I rejected their advances and pretended not to hear their dance requests.

Once I sat in my driver's seat, I let go of my chaos and embraced a night full of tipsy slurs and overcrowded dance clubs filled with overpriced cologne and too-tight freakum dresses. Another text from Tariq came.
“Call me when you get back. Doesn't matter the hour.”

I threw my phone down in the cup holder and flew down the 408, leaving my confusion in the wind.

•  •  •

When I got home around three-thirty in the morning, tired and drunk, I forced Loraine to stay the night with me. I was vulnerable. She barely put up a fight. The first half-hour of the club was slow. People were gettin' their drinks, and the DJ kept playin' songs no one heard of. The dance floor was bare, and I had already dodged three dance requests, one coming from the typical eighty-year-old man who spent his nights reliving his glory days by putting on his high school Cosby sweater, snot-colored slacks, and old-man penny loafers. When he ran his fingers through his balding, gray hair and smiled a mouth full of gold teeth, I gave a quick head turn as Loraine and I laughed ourselves to another corner.

I ignored texts from Tariq all night. I needed my space, and he
would not let up. I deleted his many texts.
“Don't forget about me tonight”
and
“I'm willing to put it all out on the table. You can come over here if you want.”
With each text he sent, I downed another green apple martini. Eventually, I upgraded to Long Islands before stepping up to the big boy leagues and gorging shots of Patrón and Hennessy. I wouldn't have gotten so drunk had it not been for Louis's text message.
“I didn't run back to Teona. I still want to make this work. I think you were the one.”
That text is what led me to the shots.

Soon, I stopped declining dance invitations and found myself gettin' low to the flo' halfway through the night. I even gave Cosby Sweater a chance. I rubbed his beer belly and pumped my fists to the music of Jessie J. Loraine stopped short of grabbing me by my ear when she dragged me out the club before I went down as one of
those
girls.

“I need you to stay with me tonight,” I mumbled through slurred speech.

Loraine helped me up to my apartment and laid me down on my couch. “I might as well. You can't drive me home.”

I threw my arms up and wrenched her close to me into a forced hug. “Thanks, girl. I can't be alone tonight.”

“Apparently.” Loraine pulled away, kicked her shoes off, and slung her jacket across my armchair. “You can barely sit upright, let alone take care of yourself.”

“No, that's not what I mean.” I slung myself over my couch and closed my eyes. The room spun, and I couldn't think straight while my living room ran laps around me. “I'm gonna call him if you…if you leave…me.” I could barely get my words in order with all the thoughts attempting to clamber out of my dehydrated mouth at once.

“Call who? Louis?”

I grabbed the purse that fell through my fingers to my hardwood floors and searched through it. I shook my head and mumbled, “N…no.” When I found my phone, I silently reread one of the texts Tariq sent me.
“U home yet? I hope you not still mad at me. I need you here wit' me.”

I let my phone fall back to the floor. Loraine watched me with perplexity as she tried to read my mind. “Who are you gonna call, Erin?”

We eyed each other with confusion. “What are you talkin' about?”

“You said you were gonna call him. Who's
him?”

I closed my eyes and tried to remember the last thing I said to Loraine before more thoughts scurried through my brain. I unclipped the front of my hair and scratched my scalp. When I glanced at my phone, I frowned. “Oh,” I shouted. “Tariq.”

“Tariq?” Loraine shouted back. “Why are you gonna call Tariq? After how he treated you?”

I kicked off my shoes and turned over on the couch to where my back faced the TV. Tired of how fast the room spun, I wanted to close my eyes and prepare for the weekend. My mind wasn't in the right place to hold a rational conversation with Loraine. I kept my eyes closed and dreamt about a two-headed lion that pleasured himself on my bed. One head belonged to Tariq, and the other one belonged to Louis. Before they had the chance to beckon my inclusion in their threesome, I felt an incessant tapping on my shoulder.

I turned over to see Loraine standing over me with her hands on her hips. “What?” I grunted.

“Why are you gonna call Tariq?”

“Tariq called?” I snatched my phone from the floor and scrolled
through. Another text from Tariq that came through.
“You got my
mind trippin'. I keep starin' at my phone waitin' on you to call. I got some
shit to get off my chest.”
I shrugged my shoulders.

Loraine snatched the phone from my hand and smacked my shoulder. “Erin, answer me.”

“Answer you? Answer you about what?”

“Tariq! What's going on? Are you still seeing Tariq even after he kicked you out of his place?”