Teenage Love Affair (3 page)

“So I'll see you around,” Malachi said.

“Yeah,” I said dryly, watching them take off and head down the street. “You do that.”

I turned to Ameen and was greeted by the palm of his hand. I tried to move, but Ameen palmed the entire side of my face and pressed it against the window. “You gon' disrespect me!” Ameen screamed.

“Get off of me!” I tried to swat his hands, but he grabbed my wrist with his free hand and said, “I dare you to move. Move.” He paused and looked at me. “Do it and see don't I pimp smack you!”

“What are you doing?” I screamed again.

“You cheating on me with that dude? Huh? You cheating on me?”

“Would you chill, Ameen?”
I can't believe this.

“Who the hell was that?”

“Malachi!” I screamed. “He was my best friend.”

“Oh, now you got best friends? So what am I? Nothing? You have to be crazy disrespecting me!”

“We were best friends when I was a kid!”

“And here I bought you a thousand dollar pair of boots trying to make up with you!” he screamed toward my ear. “And you gon' disrespect me? This is the same thing you did the other day when that dude asked you for directions.” He mushed me again before letting me go. “As a matter of fact”—he grabbed the Gucci shopping bag—“these are going back.” He opened the car door.

“Ameen!”

“Don't be calling me now.” He took my car keys and tossed them toward me. “Call me when you know how to act!” He slammed the door behind him and disappeared up the street.

Tears filled my eyes, and all I could do was hold my hand over my mouth and cry silently.

A few minutes later I started my engine and placed the car in drive. I felt like my heart was underneath my back tires. I hated that my mind kept rewinding what had just happened, but I couldn't help it.

Everything inside of me said I was stupid for taking this. I knew I needed to walk away, especially since I grew up on my father's saying boys not 'spose to hit girls. The problem was I also grew up on, don't do what I do, do what I tell you, because every Friday night, before my father died from cancer, he would beat my mother like she stole something.

But then again this isn't really the same thing that my parents went through. I mean…we don't live together…and we aren't married. Ameen is nothing like my daddy was when he would get drunk. Ameen only yoked me up once or twice…okay and maybe he just mushed me…but still, there are times when I did defend myself. I'm not all weak like my mother.

I turned the radio up to drown out my sorrows and that's when I looked at my gas gauge and realized it was on empty…oh…my…God…

I
couldn't wait to get home and cry in peace. The fight with Ameen was messing with every part of my being and I felt like…like…I couldn't think straight and if I didn't get my relationship back on track I was sure to wither into a thousand pieces.

I parked my car and walked to my neighbor's house to pick up my ten-year-old sister, Hadiah, who resembled a young Raven Symoné and was way too grown for her age. We were close, though, especially since more times than not my mother wasn't home and it felt like all we had was each other.

I rang my neighbor, Ms. Lucinda's, bell. She was a sweet old lady who kept Hadiah a few hours after school until I picked her up. A few seconds later Ms. Lucinda opened the door and Hadiah was standing there, giving me the eye as if to say “what took you so long?” But hmph, she would have to understand I was going through some things.

“Thank you, Ms. Lucinda,” I said.

“You're welcome, baby.” She smiled.

Hadiah waved and Ms. Lucinda closed the door.

“Yo,” Hadiah said to me as I unlocked our front door and we walked inside. “Ms. Lucinda had me in there watching
Wheel of Fortune
and learning how to knit. I swear I can't take it.” She wiped her brow. “What in the world took you so long?”

“Ms. Lucinda is a nice lady. Plus me and Ameen had an argument so I am not in the mood for your sarcasm.”

“You two are always arguing,” Hadiah said, exhausted. “And I may only be ten, but when Michael, my boyfriend in class, kept wanting to argue and every time I turned around he was showing off on the school playground, I dumped him. Maybe you should think about that.”

“When you're seventeen you can talk to me about my boyfriend. Until then, do your homework.”

“I finished my homework.”

“Okay, well watch some television.”

“I can't. I keep hearing
Wheel of Fortune
music in my head. I need to do something else.”

“Well, you figure it out while I warm up the dinner Mommy cooked.”

Hadiah followed me into the kitchen, sat down at the table, and proceeded to tell me the happenings of fourth grade as if anything they were going through compared to my drama.

Not for one minute can I tell you what she said. My mind was too busy replaying the argument I had with my man.

I warmed up the dinner of chicken, corn, and collards that my mother cooked and left for us in the refrigerator. Lately, leaving cold dinners behind was all my mother was sure to do. Anything other than that was up for negotiation. She was never home on time or at a reasonable hour. True, she was a corrections officer for Northern State Prison, and, yes, she worked evenings, but it seemed as if we never got to see her anymore.

She was never here to know what we were doing, how we were doing, or what was going on. I used to fill her in on my day until she started falling asleep on me and then I figured if she wasn't interested, then to hell with it. Besides me and my moms never really kicked it like that anyway.

I always felt angry with her, as if she was the cause of most of my problems. Like how, after my dad died of cancer last year, she up and moved us into this house. She didn't ask how we felt or what we thought, she just moved us, and I felt like she was in a rush to leave my dad's memory behind in that dusty apartment. That's when my brother, Derrick, joined the army and never came back, leaving me and Hadiah here with my mother by ourselves.

And no, my dad wasn't the best, but he was mine, and up until he died he was always here when we came home; he always seemed interested in what we did and what we had to do. But, as I sat there with my sister in that lonely house, with tears sitting at the base of my eyes, I realized more than ever that all we have in this world is one another.

I watched my sister eat because with tears dancing on my tongue, I couldn't put a morsel of food in my mouth. “I'm going to bed,” I said to her.

“Me too.” She cleared the table and then looked at the chore chart that hung on the pantry door. “Tonight is your night to wash the dishes.”

“Well, it'll have to wait until tomorrow because I'm tired.”

I rose from my chair, practically ran into my room, and as soon as I closed the door tears slid down my face. I looked at the clock and counted the hours that had passed since me and Ameen fell out. I couldn't fight it anymore. I needed to call Ameen at least once…yeah, that's it…only once, and if he doesn't answer then forget it. I definitely won't be sweatin' him.

I picked up my phone and called him only to get his voice mail. I swallowed the ache in my chest and tried my best to make it go away.

I changed into my silk pajamas, cut the radio on, and laid in my bed. Then it hit me, if I called Ameen one more time, he just might answer…so I did…and nothing. I hung up. A few seconds later I called again…. No answer. Forget it, I'm done. If he doesn't call me then, oh well, his loss.

I laid still for a few moments, and then I turned back over and looked at the phone. Okay…maybe just one more time and he'll answer. One more time ended up being a thousand times, and the last time I called the phone didn't even ring, his voice mail simply picked up. Which could only mean one thing; he'd turned his phone off.

I felt so stupid.

I returned to staring at the ceiling, and the last thing I remembered before I fell asleep was the radio playing slow jams and wondering how long it would take to put my life back together again.

 

“Zsa-Zsa La-Shae Fields, get out that bed!” stunned me out of my sleep. Instantly I sat straight up. I felt like I'd been fighting a war instead of coming around from being asleep. My eyes felt heavy, and my heart was racing. I couldn't see clearly, but I could swear I heard my mother's voice.

“And I mean get up right now!” Now I knew for sure that was my mother. I still couldn't see clearly, but I could see well enough to read the electric red numbers on my alarm clock, which said 2:00
AM
. I didn't respond to my mother's invasive voice because obviously, unless this was an extreme emergency, the chick was trippin'. I grabbed my pillow, snuggled under my blanket, and closed my eyes.

“I know you heard me!” She snatched the covers off of me and then yanked the pillow.

Now it was on. I turned over and sat up. “Are you for real, comin' in here like this?!”

“You better shut your fresh mouth and get up to wash those dishes! It was your night to clean the kitchen and you just left it a mess!” She clinched her jaw. “I want you up and those dishes washed. Now!” She flicked the light on and I swore I went blind.

I fell straight back on the bed and prayed out loud. “Lord Jesus, help me with this lady here because she is—”

“Excuse me?”

“Gettin' on my nerves!” I sat up. “Why would you wake me at this time of the morning?” I looked her over. She still had on her dark brown and tan corrections officer uniform. “You know you're not at work, right?” I said. “You know I'm not one of those prisoners on the cell block?” I popped my eyes open wide. “So why are you in here acting like you can't tell time?”

“I'm a little sick of your fresh mouth.”

“You wake me up at two
AM
. What did you think we were going to talk about, the weather?”

“You know what? It's to the point where I just don't know what to do with you. Ever since your father died you just act as if I'm the enemy.”

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. I had bigger fish to fry than this: like losing my boyfriend. “Please don't act like the victim.” I shook my head. “That's what you always did; you always acted like the victim when you were always the one to start it. So just go in your room so I can go back to sleep.”

Apparently she didn't hear anything I just said because now she was screaming. “You don't tell me what to do! And you don't talk to me like that, I'm the mother around here!”

“Then act like it. I do everything and what do you do?! Huh? Nothing but work and ignore the hell out of us as if you are on the countdown for us to turn eighteen. So don't come up in here because I didn't wash the dishes. Acting as if you are Justine Simmons, mom of the year.”

“What are you guys yelling about?” Hadiah came to my door, wiping her eyes.

“Nothing,” my mother said. “Go back to bed.”

Hadiah stood there.

“I said go back to bed!” my mother said, enraged.

Hadiah looked at me, and I said, “It's okay, Hadiah, go back to bed.”

“You sure?” she asked with a worried look in her eyes.

“Yes.” I nodded. “I'm sure. I got this.”

My mother's mouth hung open, and I could tell she was a mix between being extremely pissed and her feelings being hurt. I grabbed my comforter and pillow from the floor, pointed to the door, and said, “That's called stay home more.” Not that I wanted her around, but Hadiah needed her.

“I will not have you disrespecting me,” my mother said. “I swear ever since your father died everything around here is turned upside down!”

“Oh, now you wanna blame daddy? Here you go again being the victim.”

“I was a victim! Your father beat the hell out of me!”

“Well, now he's dead so you don't have to put up with him! All you did was call the cops on him anyway!”

“We had problems, and he had no right to put his hands on me!”

“Then you should've shut your mouth and kept quiet. Then he wouldn't have been stressed behind you, got cancer, and died. You couldn't even wait for the ink to dry on his insurance papers before you ran and bought this house. And you only bought it so that there would be no memories of him here! You ain't slick, I know your tricks and you don't have to hold your breath because when I'm eighteen I'm out of here! Now cut my light off and you're dismissed!”

WHACK!!!!
Have you ever seen shooting stars in the middle of your room? I could've sworn that my mother's backhand across my face sent me to the edge of the Big Dipper, but I'm not sure. All I knew is that my ear was ringing and the left side of my face was burning. The same side that Ameen had left a bruise on.

“Let me tell you something!” My mother walked up so close to me that I thought she was going to push me through the wall. “You don't know anything about what me and your father have gone through. You don't know how many nights I cried and begged and pleaded for him to change, for me to change, for us to change! You think I like what we went through?! But you know what, I don't have to explain anything to you, you're a child. You will get it together, come hell or high water you will learn to respect me.”

I started to repeat the same things back to her, but I didn't. I simply turned over toward the wall and within the next few minutes I heard my door slam. The tears that had been haunting me all night had returned and were now sliding down my cheeks. I thought about Ameen and wished for a moment that I could share with him the argument I had just had with my mother. So I picked up the phone to call him, only to be greeted by his voice mail…again.

Don't look now, but my life was hell.

 

“Zsa-Zsa.” Hadiah knocked on my door and simultaneously tipped into my room.

“Wassup?” I wiped the crust from my eyes and looked at the clock: six
AM
. Time to get up and get ready for school. I grabbed my cell phone but there were no missed calls, which meant that Ameen didn't think about me all night. “Yeah, Hadiah, what is it?”

“Man down.” She placed her hands on her hips. “It's about to be a man down situation.”

Life according to my sister was always a man down situation. So instead of responding I got out of bed and walked over to my closet to pick out my clothes for today. For a moment the Gucci boots Ameen bought me and took back ran across my mind. “I want you to wear that soft pink Apple Bottoms sweat suit,” I said to Hadiah. “The one I bought you and those white and pink air force ones. I'm wearing my True Religion skinny leg jeans and pink tee with my pearl accessories and Prada heels.”

“Did you hear me?” Hadiah placed her hands on her hips. “I said Mommy is shuttin' the world down. She's on the phone with Aunty Grier right now crying and complaining about us.”

“What? Complaining?” Now she had my attention.

“Yeah.” She twisted her neck. “Said something about you being out of control and me being too grown. Can you imagine?” Her eyes bugged out. “Me being too grown? Hmph, she got me messed up.”

“Are you sure she's on the phone with Aunty Grier, in Georgia?”

“Listen at this.” She handed me the cordless phone she had in her hand. I pushed the talk button and my mother was complaining so much she didn't even notice we were on the line.

Hadiah and I placed the phone in between our ears and listened. “I just need some help,” my mother cried. “I can't lose my girls. Derrick is already gone. He's in the army and he never comes back home. I just don't know what to do.”

“Stop crying, Jazmyn,” Aunty Grier said. “I know how you feel. When Tre left home I didn't know what I would do, but I made it and you can, too. You want to come down to Atlanta and move in with me, Noah, Man-Man, Cousin Shake, and his wife? We would love to have you. The girls are in school and they come home every weekend. This house is huge and there is more than enough room.”

“She better not say we're moving to Georgia,” I mouthed to Hadiah.

“I will die if she does,” Hadiah whispered back.

“You know I can't do that.” My mother sniffed.

Thank you.

“Okay, well, the only other thing I can think of is Cousin Shake and Ms. Minnie coming up there. I know they'll be happy to help out.”

Cousin Shake, oh, hell, no.

“You really think they won't mind?” my mother asked.