Authors: Dwayne S. Joseph

Growing Pains (8 page)

BOOK: Growing Pains

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He looked at Tyrel. They'd had each other's backs so many times before in the past, yet now here they were, inches and seconds away from going toe-to-toe. Tyrel was the thicker and more relentless of the two, but Brian was the better fighter.

They stared.

Barely breathed.

Seconds passed.

Brian could feel the point of no return coming. The moment when the first punch would be thrown and nothing would ever be the same again. He felt it in the tips of his fingers, along the hairs on the back of his neck.

He closed his fists tighter, his nails digging into the palm of his hands. He'd hit first. But before he could, Will sprang up and backed them both up with his hands.

“Yo, come on. Y'all niggas need to chill.”

Tyrel glared at Brian over Will's shoulder. “You want some, nigga?”

“Bring it, son,” Brian answered, trying to rush forward.

“Come on,” Will said, pushing them both back again. He looked at Brian. “Yo, B, go home, son. Go home and think or do whatever, a'ight?”

“Yeah, nigga,” Tyrel said. “Go home before you get hurt.”

Brian tried to rush forward.

Will pushed hard against his chest. “Yo, B, Ty. Come on. Y'all are boys!”

“Boys don't sell one another out,” Tyrel said.

“Ain't nobody sellin' you out, man!”

Brian worked his jaw.

Tyrel flexed his chest.

They were two rams on the verge of butting horns.

“Marcus, get off! Ow!
Will!
”

Will, Tyrel, and Brian looked toward the door. On the other side, Charmaine was crying and yelling at Marcus, and screaming for Will.

Brian let out the breath he'd been holding. Although he didn't want it to happen, he knew that nothing could happen between him and Tyrel. At least not there. He turned and looked back to Tyrel, who still had his eyes locked on him.
My boy,
he thought.

This wasn't supposed to be happening.

Brian unclenched his fists, let his shoulders drop, and without a word, walked out of the room and headed back to Carla's. He was stressed, and only she could diffuse the bomb ticking inside of him.

Deahnna couldn't believe she was about to do what she was about to do. It was a big step. One she hadn't thought she'd ever take. At least, not again. Not since she'd all but shut herself down. She never wanted to hurt again, and although she'd only had two negative experiences, the two that she did have had been more than enough for her to decide that she never wanted to venture down the path of pain and unhappiness again. Therefore, relationships, and even the thought of them, were off-limits.

The decision had left her lonely at times, but looking at the big picture, loneliness was far better than the emotional turmoil she'd had to deal with.

But now her toes were teetering on the edge of a cliff, and in seconds, if she actually went through with it, she was going to freefall to an unknown landing that for so long she'd assumed could only be disastrous.

If she went through with it.

Pressing the last digit on her cell phone that would connect her phone to Jawan White's.

The palms of her hands were slick with perspiration. She took a breath as her heart thumped beneath her chest. “This is ridiculous,” she said to herself. “It's just a phone call.” She exhaled and wiped her palms on the sweats she was wearing.

Just a phone call.

“That's all it is.”

She pressed the last digit and immediately freaked out.

What if the call went well? What if the conversation went as smoothly as it had in the gymnasium? What if the call ended with plans for a date? And what if the date went well and led to a second one? And if the second one led to a third, and that third led to an eventual relationship, what then? He would know things, but he wouldn't know everything, because he couldn't. So, really, what was the point to all of this?
Why set yourself up for failure, for heartache? Chemistry or not, does this really make any sense at all?

She hit the end button, canceling the call, and put the phone down on the bed beside her. “Stupid,” she said. “Just stupid. You know you can't do this. You know you couldn't tell him everything about you. Dammit. What were you thinking?” She felt a tear snake from the corner of her eye, and slammed her hand down on her mattress. “Dammit,” she whispered again. “Dammit, Terrance!”

Had she just never let him touch her, she wouldn't be going through this right now. Had she just never fallen for his bullshit and just waited like she was supposed to. She was only sixteen, for Christ's sake! All she had to do was wait for the right guy, the right time. She wouldn't have to deal with the stress, the anxiety. She wouldn't be a prisoner, locked away from the freedom of love. The freedom she'd seen so many others experience and treasure. Her decision would be easy. The phone call would simply be . . .

She shook her head and frowned as reality hit her.

Without Terrance and without her naivety, the phone call she'd just disconnected would have been nonexistent. And if the call were nonexistent, so too would be her son, and she just didn't know life without her baby.

She looked down at her phone. Good, bad, and ugly, all things in life happened for a reason. The emotional scarring was hard to deal with and accept at times, but Brian's existence made it all worth it. “Just a phone call,” she said. “Dammit, Deahnna, just admit it. You felt it.”

She wiped her teary streak away with the back of her hand, and then reached out to grab her phone, when The Jackson 5's song, “I'll Be There” suddenly pierced the silence, causing her heart to skip a beat. She grabbed her phone and looked at the caller ID. Brian wasn't home, and she anticipated that it would be him.

But it wasn't.

Deahnna froze as she looked at the screen and the phone number lit up in yellow. She was familiar with the number, but only because she'd just dialed it seconds ago.

She stared at the phone in her hand, listening to Michael Jackson at nine years old outsing most currentday singers she knew. The phone felt hot in her palm. Almost electric.

Chemistry,
she thought.

It was there. She knew it.

“Put it down,” she whispered. And then she hit the talk button and put the phone against her ear. “He . . .” She paused, cleared a frog from her throat, and said again, “Hello?”

“Uh, hello. Someone just called me from this number,” Jawan said on the other end, caution in his voice.

“Hi, Jawan, it . . . it's me, Deahnna Moore. Brian Moore's mother. We met at the school dance.”

The tone in Jawan's voice picked up immediately as he said, “Hey, Deahnna! I'm sorry I didn't recognize your voice.”

“Yeah. I, uh, had something in my throat.”

“Are you OK?”

“Yes. I'm fine.”

“Good. So why did you hang up?”

“I'm sorry. I got another call just as I was calling you that I had to take.”

“Oh. Well, do you need me to let you go?”

“No, no. I'm . . . my call is finished.”

“OK. Good. So how have you been?”

Deahnna smiled at the sincerity in his voice. “I've been good. Had a busy rest of the weekend, and then work today, and a hair appointment to fix myself up right afterward. Kind of been nonstop since we've spoken.”

“I see that. So, a hair appointment to fix yourself up?”

“Yeah. I was looking a little raggedy.”

“Really? From where I was standing, you were looking far from raggedy,” he said, the tone in his voice dipping to a low, seductive growl that made bumps rise along Deahnna's arms.

“It was dark in the gym,” she said, her cheeks feeling warm. “You didn't really get a good look.”

“Oh, trust me, I got a very good look.”

Deahnna's smile widened, and she was glad she wasn't standing in front of him having this conversation. She cleared her throat. “So, I had a good time Friday night.”

“So did I,” Jawan replied.

Deahnna chuckled. “Believe it or not, it was actually one of the best nights out that I've had in a long while.”

“Hmm,” Jawan said. “And it wasn't even a date.”

Just imagine if it were,
Deahnna thought. “So, are you busy?” she asked.

“Not extremely. I'm just here at the school grading some papers.”

Deahnna looked at the time on her alarm clock sitting on her night table. It was nearing seven o'clock. “Do you always work this late?”

“More than I like to. I occasionally take work home, but I try to leave that time for myself. It helps keep me sane, you know.”

“Yeah,” Deahnna agreed. There was a brief moment of silence, but the silence didn't feel awkward. Instead, it just felt . . . natural. Felt as though they could sit together in silence and everything would be just fine. “So,” she said after another couple of seconds. “How is Grady?”

During their conversation at the dance, he'd mentioned his feline companion.

“You remembered his name. I'm impressed.”

“Well, I was paying attention.”

“I see that.” Jawan laughed. “Grady is loving life as a bachelor.”

“Mm-hmm. I see. So the bachelor life is where it's at, huh?”

“For Grady it is.”

“Oh, come on. And it's not for you?”

“Trust me, the bachelor life is overrated.”

“I bet a lot of guys would beg to differ on that.”

“Guess I'm just not like a lot of guys,” Jawan replied, his voice confident.

Deahnna raised her eyebrows.
No, you're not,
she thought.

“I'm actually thinking about converting Grady, though,” Jawan said.

“Converting him?”

“Yeah. I'm thinking about finding him a little kitty to keep him company.”

“Really? Why?”

“Grady's a great cat, but he has a tendency to disturb my sleep, especially in the morning. I figure with a lady friend in his life, he could leave me alone.”

Deahnna laughed. “Aren't you worried about becoming a grandfather?”

“Nah. I'll just put him out if that happens.”

“That's mean.”

“Hey, if he wants to act like a man, then he'll have to do what a man's supposed to do and support his family. I told him that too.”

Deahnna laughed again, something she found very easy to do with him. “You better be nice to Grady, or I'll have to come over there and rescue him, and then report you to the humane society.”

“You come over here?” Jawan said. “Hold on. Let me go and hang him by his tail really quick.”

More laughter from Deahnna as Jawan called out his pet's name.

“You're just mean,” she said, chuckling.

“So, you're coming over then?”

“Ha-ha. Not tonight.”

“Sorry, Grady. Looks like we'll have to postpone the torture to, say, Friday night?”

Deahnna smiled.
Very, very smooth
, she thought. “Are you asking me out, Mr. White?” she asked, surprised at the playfulness in her voice.

“I'm just saying . . . Friday night would be a good night to torture Grady.”

“In that case, I guess I need to make sure that night is free for me to rescue him, huh?”

“You don't have to. But I can't promise that Grady would make it through the night.”

“You're a sick, sick man,” Deahnna said.

Jawan laughed. “Tell you what: why don't I save the torture for another night, and maybe on Friday we can do a movie or something?”

“Hmm . . .”

“Torture or a movie. It's up to you.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Deahnna said.

“Hey, I'm just giving you options.”

Deahnna laughed and shook her head. “OK, sicko, if I must choose . . . let's go with the movie.”

“OK. Anything in particular that you want to see?”

“I'm open for anything. You pick.”

“OK,
” Jawan said.
“Debbie Does Dallas
it is.”

“Ha-ha. Nice try.”

Jawan laughed. “Hey, you said you're open for anything.”

“Not that open.”

“OK, OK. I'll skip that one for now and pick something a little lighter for you.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“So, Friday at seven?”

“Seven is fine with me.”

“OK. What's your address?”

“Tell you what: why don't I meet you at the school?”

“Ah. I take it you don't want Brian to know?”

“Well, you are his teacher. It might be a little awkward for him.”

“Hmm. OK. I'll concede.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

Another few moments of comfortable silence passed before Jawan said, “Well, I don't want to go, but I have papers to finish grading.”

“I understand. Well, it was very nice talking to you again.”

“Yes, it was,” Jawan agreed.

“Don't kill Grady tonight.”

“On my honor, I promise not to touch a hair on his head until you can come and save his hide.”

Deahnna smiled, and felt her cheeks grow warm again. “OK.”

“I'll see you Friday, then.”

“OK. Good night, Jawan.”

“Good night, Deahnna.”

Deahnna ended the call, and the smile that was spread across her face grew wider. She lay back against her headboard, took a breath, and let it out slowly.

She had a date.

She was still uncertain about the landing, but she never imagined freefalling could feel this good.

BOOK: Growing Pains

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