A LaLa Land Addiction (29 page)

Bleu put Iman in the back of her mind and walked into the glass building in front of her.

“Welcome to Mott Community College. How can I help you?” the woman at the front desk asked.

It was a far cry from UCLA, but it was a step in the right direction. Bleu needed to find herself, and although she was stable now, she wouldn't truly go back to feeling like her old self until she was back in school.

“I'm here to enroll,” Bleu said.

“Okay, you need to fill these out and then I'll send you upstairs for your placement tests and to see a counselor,” the woman said.

Bleu exhaled deeply, blowing out the nerves that filled her. She filled out the application and then took the elevator to the second floor to take her test. She didn't realize how much she had missed something as normal as school until she was filling in the little bubbles, marking her answers on the scan sheet. This was her element. This was where she thrived when she was in her right mind.

By the time she walked out of the college, she had tested out of all the introductory classes and had been able to enroll in second-year courses. Bleu felt like a million bucks as she walked out of the building. But then she felt a sharp jab in her stomach. She paused, then smiled as she realized it was the flutters from her baby's first kicks. Bleu gasped in shock as it happened again. A smile spread across her face as she placed her hands on her growing belly. Her phone rang in her hand, interrupting the moment.
Iman,
she thought. He knew that if he was persistent enough she would answer. She had never been able to resist him for too long. She pressed the green button to answer his call, but before she could get the phone to her mouth she was hit with another feeling in her belly. This time it was stabbing and brought her to her knees as she dropped everything in her hands.

She took a deep breath, hoping that it was just body aches. She was out of the withdrawal stage, so it couldn't be from that.
Maybe the baby just kicked me in the wrong place,
she thought. Then she felt it again.

“Agh!” she called out.

A student coming up the steps rushed to her side. “Oh my God. You're pregnant. Are you okay? Are you in labor?” the girl asked.

“Please, call nine-one-one. I hope not. I can't have this baby right now. I'm only twenty-four weeks,” Bleu gasped through gritted teeth. It felt like her insides were in a vise grip.

The girl grabbed Bleu's phone. “Hello? Hello?” the girl said when she realized there was someone on the line. “This girl is about to have her baby. I don't know what to do!”

“Baby? She's pregnant?” Iman whispered in disbelief. “Hang up and call nine-one-one. Tell her I'm on my way,” he said.

*   *   *

“She's losing a lot of blood. We have to get her into the operating room! Stat!” Bleu was in and out of consciousness. Lying flat on her back as the doctors and nurses around her rushed her gurney through the halls of the hospital.

She kept trying to open her eyes, but she was so tired and her lids were so heavy. The fluorescent lights above her were bright and the faces around her fuzzy as she tried to focus on someone, anyone.

“Her blood pressure's dropping. We're losing her!”

Bleu could hear the panic in their voices.
Am I dying?
she thought. This couldn't be death. It felt too good, too comforting, too peaceful. Bleu wasn't afraid. In fact, she had never been calmer in her life. It was like she knew that if she just closed her eyes all her troubles would go away; that bright light would draw her in, and everything would be fine.

It wasn't until she heard Noah's voice did she begin to fight.

“What happened to her? Is she going to be okay?”

“Are you the father?” the doctor asked.

There was a pause and then Bleu heard Noah answer, “Yes.”

She heard something that she had never heard from him before. Fear. It was like it was contagious, because suddenly she didn't want to follow the bright light. She was terrified of leaving him, of being without him and he without her.

She wanted to live. She wanted her baby to live. Bleu was finally getting her act together only to have life knock her down again. She could never understand why her journey on this earth was so hard.

The doctor polled Noah aside. “I have to ask you this. If it comes down to saving her or saving the baby … who do you want us to focus on?” the doctor asked.

This time there was no pause. “You save her. Whatever it takes,” Noah said.

“Okay. One of the nurses will take you to sterilize so that you can come inside. We're about to perform an emergency C-section,” the doctor informed Noah.

Bleu was wheeled into a sterile room. It was so cold inside that she shivered, and when they put an oxygen mask over her face it felt like she was suffocating. She was scared.

“Bleu. We need you to relax. Just breathe in and out,” one of the nurses said.

“I can't. I can't breathe,” Bleu said as she weakly reached up and pulled off the mask.

“You can; you can do it. You're just hyperventilating. We've given you something to calm your nerves and we've numbed you from the waist down,” the nurse said. The doors opened and Noah walked in. The nurse waved him over. “Your boyfriend is here now. Just focus on him.”

“Hey, B,” Noah said, clenching his teeth as he tried to remain strong for her.

“I'm scared,” Bleu admitted.

“Shit, me too,” he said with a chuckle. “Everything is going to be okay. You've done the hard part. You did the work to be a better person, Bleu. Now you just lay back and think about how you want to decorate the nursery.”

Tears rolled out of the corners of her eyes and slid down into the creases of her neck. “I don't even know what I'm having,” she said. Bleu had been so afraid to find out. She didn't want to become too attached just in case she decided she wanted to give in to temptation one day and smoke. She figured if she didn't know, if she didn't choose a name, or know the sex, or purchase tiny clothes, then she wouldn't feel guilt. She had never slipped up, though, so she had deprived herself for nothing. Bleu had held strong from the day she found out she would be a mother.

“We're about to find out,” he said. He placed the oxygen mask over her face. “Just breathe. Breathe, B.” Noah got choked up and he sobbed a bit, having to turn his head away from her to check himself. He focused back on her, clearing his throat as she brought her hand to his face. He grasped it and kissed the back of her wrist.

“We're almost there,” the doctor announced. “We are cutting into the uterus now.”

Bleu felt so much pressure. It was like she was a car with an open hood and the doctors were the mechanics who were taking parts out and moving things around.

“And he's out. Congratulations. It's a boy,” the doctor announced.

Bleu waited to hear the cries. “Why isn't he crying? Is he okay?”

Noah stood to his feet, and when he walked over to the area where they had carried the baby he froze. It was the most heartbreaking thing he had ever seen. The baby was so little. At only two pounds he was fighting for his life.

“Take care of the mother. We're going to take the baby and work on him. He was born too early. His heart is on the outside of his body. We have to get him to Cardiology immediately,” the doctor said as an entire team rushed in and took the baby away.

Noah knew that he had to be strong, but his eyes had witnessed firsthand what the drugs he used to peddle had done. The damage that they had caused. It was something that every young, black boy coming up in the hood should see. If Noah had known, he would have never had a part to play in the destruction of his own people. He gritted his teeth to stop his emotional levees from breaking.

“She needs you. She's crashing!” the doctor called out.

Noah rushed to Bleu's side and watched in horror as her eyes closed and she gave in to the fatigue.

*   *   *

Bleu awoke and every part of her body hurt, but the first thing to come out of her mouth was, “Where's my baby?”

It was an instinct that only developed after a woman had taken her rite of passage into motherhood. The ability to care for another before you cared for yourself was something that couldn't be taught. It was a gift and Bleu had earned the right to open it.

Noah sat at her side. It seemed to be where he belonged, because every time she needed him it was where he was. “He's in surgery, Bleu. He was born really early. They're doing everything they can,” Noah said, not wanting to be the one to inform her about the baby's heart condition.

“Oh God,” she said as she leaned her head on the pillow and shook it from side to side.

“Noah, I did this. My baby is struggling because of me. I would have been able to carry him longer if it weren't for the drugs,” she whispered. She was ashamed of herself. She had been so stupid and so selfish.

“You don't know that. Only God knows that. Let's just hope everything will be okay,” Noah said.

A knock at the door interrupted them, and when it opened Bleu's heart dropped.

Iman was there, standing in front of her with pure agony reflecting in his eyes. The scent of his Burberry cologne reached her before he did.

“Hey, ma,” he said as he walked to the vacant side of her bed and leaned down to kiss her on the forehead.

Bleu was speechless. Iman had such a grand presence. He was omnipresent, filling up her mind, her heart, her body. He was the controller of her emotions as if he had a battery-operated handheld that allowed him to turn her on and off whenever he wanted. Bleu was completely wrapped up in him whenever he was around. Just the feel of his skin on hers as he caressed her made her quiver.

“What are you…”

She couldn't find her words as her heart beat erratically in her chest. She had to close her eyes and focus on her breathing just to gather herself.

“What are you doing here?” Bleu finally asked, her cheeks turning a slight shade of crimson as if someone had turned up the heat in the room.

“I heard my girl was in trouble. Can't have that,” he said. “You were pregnant and you didn't call me, ma,” he said, the tone of his voice letting her know that the news injured him. “Is this my baby, Bleu?” Iman asked, wrinkles of concern creasing his forehead as his eyes burned into hers.

“You don't owe this nigga no explanations, B,” Noah said, becoming territorial.

“Yo, homie, don't with that rah-rah shit. You don't want it,” Iman said, turning g real quick. He had a soft spot for Bleu, but he handled the rest of the world with an iron fist.

“Nigga, what?” Noah asked. “Look here, Hollywood. You ain't in L.A. This my city and I'll send you back west in a pine box. You coming in here like you been here? Where were you when she was overdosing in the trap? You was ghost, so get ghost now before I turn you into one.”

Bleu was conflicted as she looked at the men she loved, arguing over her, beating their chests over her. They stood each thinking they were protecting her from the other. How could she choose between two perfect specimens of men? They both had a part of her heart. She was in love with two men. They were more alike than they knew and in the streets they could have unified, but their shared love of one woman divided them. She was their Helen of Troy. To be loved by them was a luxury. Bleu's heart broke because she knew she would have to set one of them free.

Bleu looked to Noah, feeling conflicted. “I'm so sorry. Can you give us a minute to talk?”

“Yeah, nigga, take a walk,” Iman said.

Bleu reached for Noah's hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “Please,” she added.

Noah smirked as he shook his head in disbelief and stood to his feet. “Yeah, B. Whatever you want,” he said sarcastically as he walked out, his temperament toward her suddenly turning ice-cold.

“You can't just show up here,” Bleu whispered when she and Iman were alone. “You have no idea what I've been through.”

“I know, ma, and I'm sorry,” Iman said as he caressed her face with his thumb while wrapping the rest of his hand around the back of her neck. He pulled her face toward his and kissed her lips. She wanted to resist and she pulled back, but he pulled her back in as he kissed her eyes, her lips, her cheeks, the tip of her nose. “I missed you so fucking much, Bleu. Like crazy. I've been out of my mind without you, ma.”

Bleu hated how weak she was for Iman. It was like he could do anything to her and she would just forget about it as soon as he opened his mouth to say,
I love you.
She was stupid in love with him. Her love for him defied logic and it was like a magnet, sucking her in and leaving no room for the power of resistance.

The doctor came into the room and Bleu looked at her, trying to gauge the expression on her face. “Where is he?”

“It's a boy?” Iman asked. Bleu gripped his hand so tightly that her own knuckles turned white as she waited for the news.

“Your son made it out of surgery. He is in the neonatal intensive-care unit. You can't touch him, but you can see him if you would like,” the doctor said. “I don't want to mislead you. He isn't out of the woods. He was born very early. We have a lot of hard days ahead. He only has a fifty percent chance, but there is a chance,” the doctor informed them. “And as long as he has that, we will do everything we can to get him healthy enough for you to take home.”

“Can I see him?” she asked.

The doctor nodded and brought in a wheelchair. The nurses helped Bleu from the bed to the chair and Iman pushed her out of the room.

She had never been more nervous in all her life. She was about to meet a little person who belonged to her. The nurses covered her in a protective paper gown.

“Can I go in?” Iman asked.

The doctor looked at Bleu in confusion.