Nasty Girls (27 page)

“Danny—” Sierra started to speak, but shut up.

“Why are you doing this to us?” Danny asked. He looked at me. That tough, macho attitude went straight out the door, and
he looked like a straight-up, soft teddy bear. “This is my family you're tearing apart.”

I saw that he wasn't a threat anymore, so I dropped the broomstick. It was clear to me that he was deeply hurt by Sierra's infidelity, and all he could do was cry and confess his love to her.

Sierra went up to her husband, who was now seated on my couch, crying his eyes out. She consoled him by throwing her arms around him and telling him, “Danny, I love you so much. I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

Sierra never looked up at me. My conscience began to eat away at me. Sierra did have a beautiful family. She once showed me pictures of her kids, and they were lovely.
Family,
I thought. Here I was, breaking up and destroying her happy home. Sierra was wrecking her home with infidelity, and drugs tore mine apart. I never thought about her kids or her husband. I just wanted to please myself, being self-centered. The only family I ever had was my grandmother, and my friends Jade and Shy.

I remained quiet, and felt a bit jealous of Sierra. I never knew how much her husband truly loved her until now. He came to the ghetto from his suburban home to seek his wife. I had some respect for him. It was nice to know that there was still a good black man around, who cared about his wife and held down a decent job.

“Do you still love us?” her husband asked.

“Baby, I always loved you, and I still do,” Sierra proclaimed. She then looked up at me with this empty stare. I didn't return the gaze. I thought about my life and Cream. I never had a good man in my life, and I began wondering if Cream was the right
one for me. We had an open relationship.
Was I really cool with that?
I asked myself. Everything seemed perfect for me now, but in the future, what if Cream began to fall in love with someone else.
How would I feel?
I love him.

Sierra got up off the couch, and walked into the bedroom. She didn't say a word to me as she passed. Danny remained on the couch. I stared at him. I told myself that I should apologize for my actions. But I stopped myself. We were strangers. I didn't mean to hurt him intentionally.

Sierra stepped out my bedroom five minutes later, half decent. I let her be. She gazed at me, and then said, “Bye, Camille.”

Her husband got off my couch, and they both walked out my door. I knew that it would probably be the last time I would ever see her again. Our relationship was over.

When they left, this surge of sorrow and grief came over me. My knees buckled and I collapsed on my living floor, crying. I no longer felt like a strong, vibrant woman. I felt alone. My deceased baby brother came to mind; then I thought about my quick attack on the elevator. I never told anyone about it. Then I thought about Shy and her sudden crack addiction. The three of us, we never had strong families when growing up—Shy had an abusive father, and her mother was killed when she was young. Jade's mother dated drug dealers and hustlers since Jade was eight, and now her whole life was turned upside down by one man. And myself, I always distanced myself from serious relationships. I never knew my father, and my mother, I don't know if she's alive or dead. Last I heard from her, she had cancer, and was still serving her time in a woman's prison upstate.

It's like everything hits you all at once, and the pain can cause you to break down. I think the last time I cried was when they
buried my brother. I always felt sympathy and sorrow for my friends throughout the years, but I never cried. I never let all my emotions out. I was scared to. I was scared to be looked on as weak. To everyone, I had it all together. But tonight, I cried for hours.

I
t was Thursday, Thanksgiving morning, and Casey promised to pick me up around noon so we could head out to Long Island and spend the day with his family. For the past two days, every day before and after his shift, Casey would come by to check up on me. It made me feel better. He'd come by to talk and watch some TV with me for a few hours and then head home.

As far as my situation with James, he stopped coming by the apartment, but that didn't mean he wasn't still out there, and still a threat to me. He made a threat to get at me, and I still feared him. His relationship with Tasha was definitely out in the open. Everybody in the hood knew that they were fucking for sure now. I'll admit it hurts a little, seeing James fucking with that bitch Tasha. But I tried not to think about it. James made it his personal business to tell folks around the way that I was fucking with a cop, and calling me a fucking snitch. I hated that. Some folks sneered at me like I was trash and was doing something wrong, while others let me be and didn't give a fuck who I dated.

I was getting ready for the day, trying to get dressed and be ready before Casey came by. I wanted to look nice for his family. I was in the bedroom going over my outfit for the day when I heard the doorbell. It caught my attention. My nerves jumped because I knew it wasn't Casey. It was too early. I looked at the time and it was ten fifteen.
Please, don't let it be James,
I prayed.

I went to the door cautiously and looked through the peephole—and sighed in relief when I saw Camille at the door. I quickly opened the door for her.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Jade,” Camille greeted, giving me a hug.

“Same to you too, Camille,” I returned. “You up and out here early, what's up?”

“Cream is taking me to the Poconos today.”

“Really? That's great. Have a good time.”

“I'll try.” She didn't sound so lively about it.

“Sumthin' on your mind, Camille?” I asked.

“We need to talk,” she said, stepping into my apartment.

I locked the door and wondered what she wanted to talk about. Camille took a seat on my couch and proclaimed, “It's about Shy.”

“She okay? I haven't seen or heard from her in a while. She called me one night, talking to me 'bout Roscoe, and saying they might drop the murder case. But since then, she's been like a ghost.”

“Jade, she's hittin' the pipe,” Camille said.

“What? Shy? You sure, Camille?” I asked, shocked into disbelief.

“I went by there the other day to confront her about some
news I got wind of, and I found drugs and other shit in her bedroom.”

“Shy . . . Shy?” I said. “How the fuck that happened? Shy . . . Nah, she ain't like that.” Shy was too pretty and loved her image so damn much. For her to be getting hooked on that crack, it was unbelievable. “You sure it was hers you found? Maybe she had some nigga up in her apartment and he left it behind.”

“It was hers, Jade. If you woulda seen the way she was actin' when I went by there, you woulda knew she was on something.”

“Who got her on that shit? It's probably some nigga she fuckin' wit'. Shit, I knew she was takin' Roscoe incarceration hard, but damn . . .
drugs?
”

“Jade, I'm gonna be real wit' you—this ain't the only thing we need to talk about. I don't want you to find this out through the streets, because people are already talkin' 'bout it, and I don't want you to find out no other way, but fo' me to say it to you. And there ain't any other way in sayin' it.”

“What's that?”

“James and Shy had sumthin' goin' on.”

“What? My James? . . . Camille, you're lying. Shy and James?” I said. I didn't believe it. “Who told you about this?”

“Shy broke it down to me, when I went to her apartment to confront her.”

“That fuckin' bitch, yo!” I shouted.

“Jade, she knows she did wrong, but—”

“Ain't no fuckin' buts, Camille! How she gonna fuck my man behind my back like that?”

“Jade, she made a mistake,” Camille said.

“So would it be a mistake to go over to her apartment right now and whip her ass?” I shouted.

“I'm not sayin' you shouldn't. I know the feelin', but c'mon, we've been friends fo' too long fo' us to let some dickhead nigga like James break our friendship.”

“Fuck him too. Ohmygod, I'm so done wit' him. And fuck Shy. She's triflin' too. I don't give a fuck about that bitch right now!”

I was heated. It was Thanksgiving Day, and here was Camille breaking me off with the fucked-up news. Shy supposed to be my girl. I stay looking out for her, and this is how she repays me, by fucking James behind my back. I swear, I wanted to snatch Shy by her fucking hair and punch the bitch in her face.

“James got her hooked on that crack?” I asked.

“What you think, Jade? She's losin' it. She ain't herself,” Camille proclaimed.

I sucked my teeth, trying to control my anger.
It's Thanksgiving,
I thought. I had Casey picking me up in a few. I wanted to enjoy today, but damn, why drama always up in my fucking face? Hearing about Shy and James put a fucking lump in my day, I swear. I tried to be reasonable, saying to myself that James and I are not together anymore, so why should I care. But I still did. It was bad enough to hear about James and that stank bitch Tasha. Now, I had to hear about him fucking my best friend too. And I didn't know who to blame more: Shy for fucking this nigga, knowing he's my man, and hearing me beef about his fucking cheating to her continually. Or James, taking it to the next level, and not caring about morals or boundaries, and fucking my best friend, and Roscoe shorty. I thought,
What that
say about a man, where he ain't got no respect for me, himself, and his boy?

Camille talked to me and tried to persuade me not to beef with Shy, saying she was sick and needed help. But my mind was like,
Fuck that bitch—let her be on her fucking own!
I've been there enough for her. Over ten years of friendship, and this is how she does me—fucked up.

Camille and I continued to talk throughout the morning while I was getting dressed. She told me that Shy was home at the moment, but I wasn't going by there. I wasn't in the mood to see or speak to her. I might come off and slap the shit out of her for being so stupid and disrespectful. I noticed that Camille seemed aloof since she came to my door. Something else besides Shy's crack addiction and James was bothering her.

“Camille, you okay? You seem worried.” I said.

“Can I tell you something,” she asked.

“Of course. We peoples.”

“Cream asked me to move to California with him,” she said. I was stunned.

“California, you serious?”

“Yes. He asked me a few weeks ago. I've been contemplating if I should go or not.”

“Ohmygod! Go, Camille, that's your man, right?” I asked, because she never confirmed if they were together or not.

“Yes. Kind of,” she answered incredulously.

“What's holding you back?”

“Y'all. You and Shy always been family to me,” she said. “And I don't wanna leave for California knowing shit ain't right between you two. I love the both of y'all like sistas.” I noticed
Camille tearing up, which was a first. Camille was always the strong one. I've seen her get emotional, but I never saw her actually cry.

“Camille, I'm good. We've been friends for over six years now, and been at each other's throats longer. And you know what, I never saw you cry. You're human,” I joked.

A quick smile appeared from her.

I went over to Camille and sat next to her. “You love Cream, right?”

“You know I do.”

“So what's holding you back? I know it's not us, Camille.”

She let out a faint laugh, then confessed, “I've been having an affair with a married woman.”

“Excuse me?” I was bowled over by that. “You're serious?”

She nodded.

“I never knew, Camille. I mean, how long?”

“It was only for a few months. But it's over now. Her husband came to my home, flipping, and then he started crying like a baby. That made me think, Jade. I was tearing this family apart, and I didn't even think twice about it. She has three kids, and they have something that I never had, a loving and caring mother,” Camille said.

“Damn!” I uttered. “What about Cream? He knows about this?”

“He knows I'm bi. But I've been thinking, Jade. I want a family.”

“Only you can make that happen,” I said.

“I know Cream would be a perfect father, but what if I'm making a mistake? What if that life isn't for me? I've been playing it safe all my life, not getting too attached to men or women.
But I want something different now. I'm in love with Cream. I wanna be happy with him. But I'm scared.”

The only thing I could tell her was to take a chance. “You'll never know unless you try, Camille,” I told her. “I know that there is someone out there for each of us. But you'll never find your soul mate until you've sorted out the bad ones first. Go to Cali with Cream, Camille. Be happy. Please. I know Cream is a good dude.”

When she confessed to me that she was bi, and I had no idea, at first it felt a little awkward. But that was her life and her choice. She never came on to me, and I was glad for that. We reminisced about the night we became friends. It was the night Raheem was killed, Shy's boyfriend. Camille stayed with us the entire night. We actually had had a decent conversation without cursing at each other for once. Raheem's death brought a friendship together, three sisters. I told Camille about my life, and Casey. She noticed me beam with joy whenever I spoke about Casey.

“So far, he's great, Camille. We talk. He makes me laugh, and today he's taking me to meet his entire family.”

“Dats wassup,” Camille said. “I'm glad to see you smiling again.”

I smiled. I wasn't even thinking about Shy or asshole James anymore. I was thinking about Casey and a new future for myself.