Teenage Love Affair (2 page)

When we arrived at the police station, I was beyond embarrassed, especially since the officers knew us by name. “How are you, li'l Miss Zsa-Zsa and sweet Hadiah?” the officer, who we saw every week, said to us as he handed us each a lollipop. He looked at my mother. “Another weekend, huh?”

“I just can't do it” was her response every time. “I get tired of trying to make this work for my children, and it ends in disaster.”

“So are you going to follow through with the charges this time?” the officer asked.

“Yes. It has to stop,” my mother said as she filled out paperwork, wrote down her recollection of the event, and handed the forms to the officer.

“Your court date will come in the mail.”

“Thank you,” she said, grabbing us once again by the hand and leading us out the door.

The ride home was a short one, and the sun was rising by the time we got there. I was quiet as we headed to the apartment, and like clockwork as soon as my mother opened the door, I could hear the telephone ringing. I looked at her. The shiners on her face gleamed like black and blue gold. I wondered what she would think of herself when she looked in the mirror.

She turned her head once she realized I was looking at the marks on her cheeks and forehead. The phone continued to ring as my mother said, “Don't answer it.” So I didn't. I simply sat down in the chair next to the phone because I knew that the phone would ring again.

Brrrrrnnnngggg…
I didn't even look at my mother. I simply answered the phone. “You have a collect call from,” the recorded operator said, and then paused as my daddy said his name. “Zach.”

“Will you accept the charges?” the operator continued. “If so, press two. If not, hang up.”

“Press two?” I asked my mother, knowing she would say no but meant yes.

“No. Hang up that phone!” She paused. “Know what? I can't put you in the middle of this. Press two and give me the phone.”

I handed her the phone. I started to go into my room, but then I remembered I had to keep my clothes on for when she dropped the charges.

“Zach,” my mother said into the phone, “I can't keep going through these changes. I want more than the constant fights and arguments.” She paused. “But you say that every time.” She paused again. “I love you too, but I need more than love. I need respect. I need for you to keep your hands off of me.” She paused. I knew he was offering gifts, because she started to grin. “You don't have to buy me diamond earrings, just do the right thing…. Okay, I'ma give you one last try and that's it. If you put your hands on me again, you got to leave and that's all to it.”

My mother's smile was so wide that the bruises on her face ran into her curled lips. “I'ma drop you and Hadiah off with your aunty Grier. Me and your daddy need to talk.”

My aunty lived around the corner so it only took us a few minutes to get there, and judging by the look in my aunt's eyes when we arrived, she knew what my mother was up to.

“Did you look at yourself before you came here?” my aunty said to my mother as she opened the door for us to come in. My twin cousins, Seven and Toi, were standing behind their mother as me and Hadiah walked past her. “What happened?” they whispered. “They were fightin' again?”

I nodded my head as my aunty continued on. “Jazmyn, all it takes is for one person to hit their head the wrong way. And then what?”

“Why are you in my business?” my mother scolded. “Why? All I asked you to do was to keep my girls until I returned. What me and my husband do doesn't concern you. Worry about yours and his mistress.”

My aunty slammed the door in her face, and I could hear my mother storm down the stairs and jump into her car.

“It's okay, Aunty.” I tapped my aunty on her thigh. “They always make up.”

“No man is supposed to put his hands on you,” she said to me sternly. “You hear me? No man.”

“I know, but he's always sorry,” I said, taking up for my daddy. “You'll see, he's going to buy her something pretty.”

My aunty stood silent, her eyes combed my face and seemed to say something to me that perhaps I was too young or too naive to understand. And although I didn't know everything about life yet, I knew enough to know that she could talk to my mother until she was red in the face, Jazmyn and Zach Fields would never change and Friday nights would always be the same.

“Aunty,” I said, breaking the troubling silence, “I need to change my clothes. I have had these things on for two days.”

“I knew I smelled something,” my cousin Seven said, laughing and running into her room.

“I'ma get you!” I laughed while running behind her. “I'ma get you!”

For the next few hours we played with my cousins, and before we knew anything my mother had returned with an even wider smile and the prettiest diamonds I'd ever seen dangling from her ears.

“Mommy,” I said, “those are pretty.”

“Thank you, honey.” She looked at my aunty Grier. “He said he was sorry.”

“He does every time.”

“Look.” My mother grabbed me and my sister by the hand. “I have to go.”

“I'm sure you do,” my aunty said as we walked out her front door. “I'm sure you do.”

The next few weeks at home were surprisingly calm. There was no Chinese food, beer, or Hennessy. We even saw my brother more. I'd never been this happy and prayed that things stayed this way. We had a lot of fun together, and what I discovered during that time was my daddy had a sense of humor. Can you believe it? He was funny. Oh, and my mother could sing. I never knew any of those things. I hardly watched TV anymore because we'd become masters at entertaining one another.

 

It was the last day of school, and I was sad that I wouldn't be seeing my friends every day for a while. I mean, I knew I would see them every now and then on the block, but it wouldn't be the same as daily.

Besides, I hated goodbyes, and this is exactly what today felt like…the end.

We all signed each other's autograph books and wrote crazy messages to one another. This was it for sixth grade, and we were on our way to junior high.

From where I was standing I could see Malachi watching me from across the room. I thought about going over and talking to him for a quick moment, but then I changed my mind. There was no way I could let anyone, besides Courtney and Asha, know I was in love with him.

When the bell rang and everyone gathered their things, I lagged behind so that I could say bye to Malachi, especially since my emotions and embarrassment wouldn't allow me to say goodbye in front of anyone.

Once the classroom was cleared and everyone rushed into the hallway, I walked over to Malachi and stood in front of his desk. I didn't know what the heck I should do or what I should say, so while the teacher's back was turned I did what I'd secretly been dreaming about for weeks. I planted a wet one on his lips, and then before he realized what had happened to him I took off running, leaving nothing but the echo of my Nikes behind.

By the time I arrived home I was completely out of breath. I could hear music playing as I opened the apartment door, and spotted Chinese food on the dining room table. My heart immediately fell to my chest. Hell on Earth was back again. I swear I hated Chinese food.

My mother looked at me and smiled. “Hey, Zsa.” She held her arms out for a hug. “How was the last day of school?”

“It was okay.” I hunched my shoulders.

“Well, tell me about it later.” She smiled. “Your father brought Chinese food.”

“I see,” I said, looking at the table and then glancing at the case of beer and bottle of Hennessy on the counter. It was official. Our dysfunctional routine was back in motion. Derrick didn't waste any time leaving. I felt as if I was waiting on an inevitable car crash.

“What's wrong, Zsa-Zsa?” my mother asked while I finished up my food.

“Nothing,” I said, watching my father drink his fourth beer.

My mother followed the direction of my eyes, and she snapped. “Zach, don't you see Zsa-Zsa is upset with you starting to drink so much again?”

My eyes bugged out of my head. I couldn't believe my mother did that! Now the argument was about me? It was my fault? Now I knew for sure when the wall thumped I would be the cause. “Ma, I didn't say that.”

“As long as she knows,” my daddy said, slurring his words, “not to do what I do, but to do what I tell her to, she ain't got to worry.”

My father belched and my mother started screaming, “What was that?”

I couldn't believe it, just like that we were upside down again, and this time it was all my fault.

“You startin' again, Zach?” my mother said. “Keep it up and you gon' be right back in jail!” She stormed into their bedroom and a few minutes later he stomped in behind her.

It didn't take long before the wall was jumping again. I tried to comfort my sister, but after a while I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed Hadiah's hand and we headed upstairs to Malachi's. I twisted the knob on Malachi's apartment door and it was locked. My heart started beating like a drum. I twisted it again and nothing. I nervously started biting my bottom lip.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and knocked softly. Tears filled my eyes as I found my knocks growing harder and louder with each passing minute. My stomach was churning and my knees started to buckle. I didn't know if I was getting sick or if I had to pee really bad. I started pounding on the door again. I needed Malachi to be home now more than ever. I pounded and pounded and pounded until the sides of my fists were turning red.

“Hey, sweets” interrupted my banging. I turned around and it was the woman next door. “What are you doing up here alone this time of the night?”

“I was looking for Malachi.” I wiped my eyes.

“Oh, honey.” She waved her hand. “Malachi and his family moved.”

“No.” I shook my head. “He wouldn't leave me.”

“Well, honey, I hate to be the one to tell you, but he is gone. He and his family moved to Murfreesboro, North Carolina.”

At this moment North Carolina sounded as if it were on another planet.

“And Murfreesboro, North Carolina,” the neighbor carried on, “is a long way from here, so you better go on back home. I'm sure your parents are looking for you two.”

I felt frozen, as if someone had just turned me into ice and then without warning I melted, and before I knew anything I'd slid to the floor with a crying Hadiah leaning against my shoulder.

Five Years Later, 2009

“Can't wait to get home, baby, dial your number…”

 

Zsa-Zsa

 

M
y Armani stilettos clicked against the tile floor as I placed my hands on my curvaceous hips and Naomi Campbelled to the front of the classroom. I was due to give a report on self-esteem, but after a week of sneaking out of the house and spending nights with my boo, Ameen, I had nothing prepared but my hair, nails, and fresh gear. So, I figured I would wing it. When I applied myself I got all As anyway, so why not apply myself now? Besides, I wasn't beat to argue with this old chick; I rolled my eyes toward my health teacher and shot her a fake smile.

The drama of getting Saturday detention for lack of preparation simply wasn't worth it.

“Miss Fields.” My teacher, Ms. Raymond, sat behind her desk and called my name. “Where is your paper?”

“I don't need it,” was my attempt to play it off. “I can recite my report from memory.”

Ms. Raymond's eyes narrowed. “Now, Miss Fields, if you have memorized a report I will be quite impressed. So please, proceed.”

“Alright.” I cleared my throat, pushed my gum to the side of my mouth, and popped my MAC-covered lips. “My report on self-esteem.” I looked to one side of the classroom and then to the other. “Do you all know what it means to have a positive self-image?” I asked the class, only to receive blank stares and dumb looks.

Pitiful.

But I would bet my last dollar if I asked them if they knew how to do the Pop-Lock-and-Drop-It or the Stanky Leg they would all be at military attention.

I sighed loudly. And to think this was Science High. “Listen, in order to get anywhere in life you have to be comfortable with who you are and know where you are going.”

I looked around the classroom and everyone was obviously bored. Even my homeboy, Courtney, was yawning. So, I had to bring it to 'em in the only way they would understand. “Excuse me.” I snapped my fingers. “Do y'all birds even know what self-esteem is?”

Seeing no response, I continued on. “Well, self-esteem is like…when you got it like that. Like, when you know that deep down inside you're really fly and it's not just a front for the cats around you. Dig?”

“Oh,” one of my classmates yelled, sounding proud of himself. “It's when you got it goin' on.”

“Exactly, you feel me?”

“Yeah, I feel you, Zsa,” Courtney agreed.

“See, Courtney, we here.” I pointed from my eyes to his and back again. “But understand we as young women and li'l dudes don't need to be playin' ourselves for these li'l ghetto hoods around here. We need to have dreams, explore our talents, and be determined to go to college. Plus these hoods around here, they don't have no money.”

“For real,” my newly emerged amen choir in the back of the room said.

I snapped my fingers. “They have no style.”

“Umm…” the amen choir carried on.

“No fly gear.”

“Tell it now!”

“No rides.”

“Preach!”

“And for real.” I was so into my report I had to stop myself from getting the Holy Ghost. “They can't do nothin' for you. So what's the use of wasting time on them when it's more important things in life to attend to? Don't be gettin' fooled by these donkeys lookin' to trick you outta ya li'l Burger King dough. Don't even do it to yourself.”

“Miss Fields,” Ms. Raymond interrupted, “this sounds like a sermon from the church of slang. What does this have to do with your report on self-esteem?”

“Ms. Raymond, we need to speak to each other in a language that we understand. All I just said to them was believe in yourself and don't let anyone use you.”

“You just said that?” she said in shock.

“If you would listen and stop interrupting her,” Asha commented. “God-lee.”

“She always interrupting people, too,” somebody in the back of the room added.

“Continue,” Ms. Raymond said, “and class”—she eyed Asha—“last warning, watch your tone. Next step is out the door and Saturday detention.”

“Okay.” I popped my lips. “See y'all need to grow up and be like me. Understand this, my boo, Ameen, is the truth.” I hit 'em off with a moment of silence, and then I went on. “He's nineteen and his pockets are always fat.” I opened my arms wide and pointed my hands like guns, and said, “Boom. Now peep this, 'cause this is some real ish, I'm his number one friend on MySpace.”

“That…is…so…sick….” Courtney drooled while snapping his fingers in a Z motion. “Oh, my God.”

“You haven't heard a thing. I'm the screen saver on his iPhone and when it rings, it's my voice saying, ‘It's me, li'l daddy, pick up the phone.'”

A series of dangs rang throughout the room.

“That's my homegirl right there!” Courtney said in a proud excitement.

“Now, don't you think that means something?” I tapped the ball of my foot and placed my hands on my size 10 hips. “Of course it does, and if you don't agree, you're a hater. And you know what I say to haters? Hi, hater.” I waved. “Bye, hater.” I hit 'em with a salute. “See, my mother raised me to know that I'ma leader, not a follower, which is why I recited my report from memory, 'cause I know that all y'all wannabes gon' try and copy that.

“Needless to say, I believe that I can accomplish anything I want in life, 'cause I'm too fly not to succeed. I don't look like Ciara for nothin'.” I did a booty drop and popped back up. “So, just look at me and see what it means to have self-esteem.”

I looked at Courtney and we popped our lips, gave each other fist bumps, and I sat down.

Just as everyone started telling me how good my report was, the bell rang. Forty-five more minutes and I'ma be like deuce-deuce baby.

“Miss Fields.” Ms. Raymond called me on my way out the door. “On Monday, I expect a written and less creative report.”

This chick knew she was trippin'. I didn't even respond to that. Instead I headed to honors algebra and allowed my teacher, Mr. Watson, to bore the heck outta me.

After three pages of mixing my first name with Ameen's last name with hearts, clouds, and bubbles around it, class had finally ended and I was on my way to fulfill my destiny.

I walked down the hall, mixed in with the first-period lunch students, walked out the side door of the school, and there was my baby sitting in my black '97 Honda Accord. He crashed his onyx Escalade last month, so being the caring and supportive woman that I am, I let him stunt in mine.

My man's whole presence was fiyah: Five foot eleven, a muscular build that put 50 Cent to sleep—scratch that, it put 50 in a coma—he had a fresh Caesar with thousands of brushed-in waves, and his swagger was so serious that anybody looking at him knew he was nothing to play with.

Lil' Wayne's throwback “Lollipop” was bumpin' so loud inside the car, it looked as if the tinted windows were jumping. I slid in and Ameen looked at me with a sexy glare on his face. “You're late.” He tapped the digital clock on the dashboard.

“I had to go to algebra, baby. That was the only way I could cut without anyone noticing I was gone.” I reached over to kiss him and he pushed me back.

“So what you sayin'?” he asked seriously.

“I'm sayin' I had to go to school.” I couldn't believe he refused my kiss.

“So school comes before me, that's what you sayin'?”

“No.” I hesitated. “Nothing comes before you.”

“It better not, either.” He ice grilled me and pointed his finger in my face.

“Don't be mad.” I pecked the tip of his finger and he twisted his lips. “You know I love you,” I said.

“Yeah, ai'ight,” he said as we pulled off. My baby was always jealous. Sometimes it was scary as hell, but cute. I eased back into the smooth black leather of my worn seats, and out the corner of the rearview mirror I spotted a shopping bag with Gucci written on it. It couldn't be. I turned around in my seat and oh…my…God! The boots I wanted. I threw my arms across Ameen's chest and started hugging him.

“Slow down, Zsa.” He laughed as he swerved across the yellow line. “I'm driving.”

“I can't believe you bought them!” I screamed, holding one of the candy apple red wedged heel boots in my hand.

“Yeah,” he said as I hugged the boots. “I felt bad for the misunderstanding we had the other day when I thought you were letting that dude kick it to you.”

“I don't wanna talk about that.” I quickly swallowed the lump in my throat, as the thought of how he yoked me by my collar flooded my mind.

The last thing I wanted to think about was how frightened I felt with my collar in his hands and the look of rage in his eyes. I mean…I knew I had no business talking to that dude, although I didn't know him and all he did was ask me for directions to Springfield Avenue. But still, I knew Ameen had had a bad day and all I did was aggravate it. So…in a way…I guess I asked for it. But my baby made my day once again with these thousand dollar kicks. “I swear you the truth.” I planted a wet one on his lips as we headed to his spot.

Ameen lived with his mother, her boyfriend, his sister, and her baby. His house was ran nothing like mine. For one, he paid rent. Rent, can you believe it? Your mother taking money from you. Now, what kinda bullshit is that?

Wait, that's not all of it. You know I can chill in his room, right? Door closed, slow jams playing and everything, and Ameen's mother has never knocked on the door or asked what we were doing. She really didn't seem to care. As a matter of fact I don't even think she knew my name. I would always speak and ask everyone how they were and they would respond by looking at me like I was stupid. Whatever.

I walked behind Ameen into his room and before long we were doing things that I knew my mother would've had me drowning in holy water for.

Two hours later I was showered, dressed, and ready to go to work. I grabbed my car keys off of Ameen's nightstand. “Call me later.”

“Where are you going?” He hopped out the bed. “Hol' up, wait for me.”

“I have to go and pick up my little sister.”

“So, what? I can't use your car?”

“I didn't say that.” I hesitated. Lately, Ameen had been using my car a little more than I really wanted him to, but then again, he was my man. “We have to hurry, Ameen. She doesn't like being at the neighbor's too long.”

He smiled. “You know I got you.”

As we drove down Clinton Avenue toward Highway 78 West, I swear this mofo had stopped at least a hundred different times to speak to just about every dude he knew on the street. If he wasn't blowing the horn like crazy, he was slowing down to kick it with someone. I was getting pissed by the minute.

He slowed down for the umpteenth time and yelled across the street at a guy standing there. “Yo, come 'mere!”

After a few minutes of Ameen kicking it with his friend, a guy pulled up next to us on the flyest 2009 royal blue and white Suzuki motorcycle I'd ever seen in my life. I waited for him to pull off since the light had turned green, but he didn't. Instead he took his helmet off.

Damn! Can you say fine?

Imagine Idris Elba at seventeen, or better yet, Souljah Boy completely muscled out and looking like a man. Six feet tall with toasted almond colored skin, a crazy nice build, muscles everywhere, tattoos in all the right places, sexy dreads that hung midway down his back, and a shadow beard and mustache that would make the saneness chick hurt somebody. I hoped like hell that Ameen didn't notice me starin', because if he did, he would see that for a split second I was in love with somebody else.

“Hey, yo.” The guy on the motorcycle called for my attention.

Hey, yo?
Last I checked, my birth certificate said Zsa-Zsa La-Shae Fields, not “Hey, yo.” So I turned around and looked at Ameen, because just that fast I'd been turned off.

“You know him?” Ameen asked as his chiseled jaw clinched tightly.

Before I could say no, the guy on the motorcycle said, “Zsa-Zsa.” I turned back around and this cat had the nerve to be smiling, and that's when it came to me, exactly who this was. I hopped out the car. Tears of joy filled my eyes and my heart raced in my chest. “Malachi?!”

“Yeah, it's me, ma. What's good? I been looking for you since I got back in town,” he said, hugging me tightly. The ring he'd given me years ago hung around my neck and pressed against his chest. “I missed you so much,” he said.

“I missed you, too!” I couldn't help the tears falling down my face. I felt like such a dork. “I can't believe you're here!”

“Yeah, I'm back here for good.” He wiped my eyes and continued to hold my hand. I knew for sure that Ameen was probably pissed. “You look beautiful.”

“Pardon me,” interrupted our moment. “You wanna introduce me to your friend?” Ameen said as he leaned over the middle console.

“I was waiting for an introduction myself,” a pissed female voice chimed in. I looked up and a chick that I knew from school was standing there. I just hoped this wasn't his girl.

I turned to Ameen and said, “Ameen, this is Malachi, and Malachi, this is my boyfriend, Ameen.” They gave each other a fist bump and I turned to the girl Malachi was with and said, “Don't I know you? What, are you two related?”

“This is Staci,” Malachi said. “My girl.”

I felt like I'd been stabbed. I swallowed, and Staci rolled her eyes at me. “Whatever,” she snapped. “Can we leave now?” She hopped on the back of Malachi's bike.

“Yeah, whatever,” I said, getting back into the car.

Malachi looked at me and his eyes seemed to apologize. Suddenly I remembered how it felt when he'd left the first time.