Glancing over at the group of kids huddled up near the fence that have become to mean so much to me, I shook my head. “Yeah, we’ll see who does all the crying when you walk across the stage next week.”
Please be at the house at 7pm sharp. Shannon is coming over and I want her to meet you.
“Ugh,” I groaned reading my uncle’s text.
Over the last few months, he’s been calling himself dating with a purpose. I haven’t lived under that man’s roof in years and even when I did there was never any signs or talks of a woman. I personally thought he was one of those in the closet men. His mannerisms and weird tendencies were just off to me.
Him having a girlfriend, that spooked me.
Going down the rest of my text threads I stopped at me and Noelani’s chat. I missed my friend, and every day I texted her hoping that she’d respond to me. In six years, all I’ve gotten is one email that only stated that she missed and loved me. I hated what her husband Dominique put her through. His selfishness made us both miserable.
Right under my uncle’s conversation was the one I read daily. Amell’s texts. Somehow, I managed to get the gruff man to actually use his phone. The fact that I hadn’t heard from him in two days showed that we were still a work in progress. I hated when he pulled his disappearing acts. It had been thirteen years since I met that man. Eleven since he first kissed me, and six since he made love to me for the first time. Neither of us were going anywhere but it grinded my gears something serious that after all these years he felt the need to keep up walls.
A throat cleared.
All I wanted to do was stand outside in the sun, get some well-deserved vitamin D while the fire department inspected the building. Like my large dark shades weren’t obvious enough to tell anyone looking that I didn’t want to be bothered. If the students next to me knew to keep the conversation minimal, then why didn’t this rude person feel like the same rule didn’t apply to them?
Praise God my eyes were shielded. I rolled my eyes to the high heavens seeing Rita standing in front of me. Once upon a time she and I used to be close. Really close. Close like I considered her my best friend. When I started teaching at South Crenshaw, she was one of the first teachers to welcome me and invite me to all the happy hour events. We naturally clicked.
It all went downhill when I found out Rita had a bad case of running her mouth. Though I saw her as a close friend I never told her the same things that easily came out of my mouth when I talked with Noelani. Rita knew bits and pieces of my life. Only the things I felt comfortable enough to share with her.
Nothing incriminating but I still expected some type of loyalty.
The week I was offered the job of assistant principal I confided in her about it. Becoming a teacher was a dream but becoming an assistant principal with under ten years under my belt was major goals, and all I wanted to do was to share it with my ‘friend’. In mid conversation Rita hung up on me and then called me back saying that Ashley said I shouldn’t take the position.
First of all, pump the breaks. When did my moment of confiding in her mean that she had permission to share my business for unwanted and unneeded advice? Second of all, who in the hell is Ashley and why did her opinion matter?
If I wanted outside opinions, I would’ve made a Facebook post like every person in America. A onetime incident and I was done. Come to find out Ashley was her best friend that she felt a need to replay everything her and I talked about to. That’s when I learned that there are levels to this friendship crap.
I had Noelani. I didn’t need no new friends.
“How have you been, Krishna?” Rita sported a pair of Gucci shades that matched her entire Gucci outfit.
The overkill.
“Good. You?” She knew small talk wasn’t my thing so why was she in my face?
“Well, Max and I are finally going on that cruise I’ve been talking about for years.” She giggled, flipping her blonde weave over her shoulder.
Guess that meant I was supposed to laugh too. “That’s nice.”
What else did she expect? We were no longer friends. Call me unreasonable but loyalty meant everything to me, and she proved on numerous occasions that she wasn’t that.
Thankfully, the bell rang signaling us to all go back inside the school.
“Maybe we can hangout. Go to the promenade and shop.”
Smiling, I waved her goodbye. “Take care, Rita.”
Right after I walked away from her my steps were haltered again by another annoyance. Coach Keith, the football and physical education coach. My annoyance came from his persistence to ask me out every week since he started working at the school three years ago. No matter how many times I told him that I was involved with someone else, he stuck his chest out and swore that his Englewood roots were what my life was missing.
I knew what to expect with Keith. He’d tell me a joke that made me laugh. He waited for me after school each day to walk me to my car, not knowing that across the street David, my long-trusted security guard, sat watching. I tried pushing him towards the other single teachers, but he refused. That man was fine, single, and no kids. Graduated from LSU and played in the NFL for three years before he tore his ACL.
“How can I help you, Keith?” Already my cheeks were spreading into a wide smile. I enjoyed the flirting, but I never took it further than that.
“I have two tickets to see Kat Williams this Saturday night. Be my date.” In another life I’d be all over his caramel self. He had these pretty boy features that instantly caught your attention. His body was fit, and he always smelled nice.
Glancing down at my dry phone, I put not just my life in danger but his also.
“Sure. I’ll text you my address.” His hazel eyes ballooned making me giggle.
“Rea…Really? I mean, okay. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“See you then. Have a good day, Keith.”
Amell
“Breathe in and out slowly. It won’t hurt after a while.” Atlas coached JD.
Rubbing his chest with watery red eyes, JD winced trying to stand up straight. “Man, that’s easy for you to say,” he coughed.” You weren’t shot in your chest with a BB-gun. I think I need to go to the hospital.” He dropped down to the floor of my kitchen making us laugh.
“Imagine getting your chest caved in right in the middle of dreaming about Rihanna. Now that’s the type of shit that will bring you to your knees.” Atlas subconsciously rubbed his chest drifting down memory. “Stop bitching. At least you got a BB-gun. Cassian always got shot with real bullets.”
“How many times have I told you to stop having sex in your grandmother’s house, Jeremy?” At seventeen I knew the boy was far from being a virgin. He pretty much had free reign to do whatever he wanted to do as long as he kept his grades up, stayed away from drugs, didn’t join a gang, strapped up, and respected the rules where he laid his head at. Simple rules.
I learned long ago that I had to take my time when talking to Jeremy. He absorbed everything I said. My words were as deep as water, and like a sponge, he soaked it all up.
When he asked me about smoking weed, instead of brushing it off or telling him not to do it, I taught him to roll a blunt and how to know the difference between laced weed and pure.