Caught Up (18 page)

“K
eep it a hunnid wit' me. Why you wit' him?” Hazel Eyes wants to know, looking up from his tray. I agreed to meet him at the mall . . . to talk. And now he's sitting here across from me at the food court, questioning, drilling me about my relationship with Malik. Even though I had already told him that I didn't think we should hang out anymore, he insisted on knowing why. So I told him about Malik and me. And, honestly, it felt good to be able to talk openly about Malik, for once, to someone.

Hazel Eyes unwraps his grilled chicken cheese steak, then chomps into his sandwich, the smell of green peppers and onions mingling with meat and melted cheese swirling around my nostrils.

I take a slow sip of my Dr. Pepper, eyeing him as he slaughters his sub in big bites, causing grease and ketchup to coat his lips.

“Why am I with who?” I finally ask, feigning ignorance.

He looks up from his food and with a mouth full of sub. His brows crease. “C'mon, Kennedy. Don't play me, yo. You know who I'm talkin' 'bout. Why you wit' dude? I mean, what's he got dat I don't, huh?”

“He's different.”

“Different how?”

“Ohmygod! What is this, an inquisition?”

“Nah. I thought you was feelin' me; dat's all. I kinda thought we was buildin' on somethin'. But it's all good.”

“I am . . . I mean, I
was,
feeling you. But then I met Malik. And I don't know. Things just clicked with us.”

“Oh, word? Like how?” he says, stuffing fries into his mouth.

I shrug. “I just like him more, that's all.”

He takes another big bite of his sandwich. Talking, then chewing, then swallowing, before rinsing it all down with two long swigs of Sprite. Finally he says, “What you like 'bout him, huh?”

I shift in my seat. Shift my eyes from his gaze, taking in what's going on around us. I keep an eye out for Jordan since I'm out here with her. I meet his gaze again.

“I don't know. I mean. It's hard to explain.”

He twists his lips and nods, glancing at his Invicta watch. “I ain't got nowhere to be, so try.” He takes a sip of his drink. Then belches. “My bad.”

I shake my head.

“So you gonna give up all dis”—he sits back in his seat, spreading open his arms while making the muscles in his chest bounce—“for dat dude?”

I nod. And although I am certain of my decision, I feel horrible. But I'm not sure why. Yes, I do. It's because I was really starting to like him, too. But Malik won me over more. And now my heart is all wrapped up in him.

“I think I love him, Blaze,” I admit softly.

“Didn't you just up and meet dude?”

“So,” I say defensively. “Time is all relative. I know him enough to know how I feel about him.”

He frowns. “But you don't even know dude. Riddle me dis, then I'ma leave it alone: You smokin' wit' him?”

“Yeah, a few times. Why?”

He nods his head. “How many times he got you sneakin' outta da house?”

“I beg your pardon.” Indignation rises in my voice. “Malik doesn't have me doing anything I don't want to do.”

“Yeah, but I bet he doesn't tell you not to, either.”

“No. He doesn't. Still, that doesn't make him a bad influence either.”

“Did I say that?”

I roll my eyes at him. “Well, no. But you implied it.”

“Nah, I simply asked a question.”

“Boy, bye! Fall back with that dumb ish,” I say without thinking. I shock myself.

He grins and then runs his tongue across his lips.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

He folds his arms across his chest and cocks his head sideways, taking me all in. “You changin', yo.”

I give him a shocked look. “No I'm not. I'm still the same girl.”

He shakes his head. “Nah, you different, ma.” He narrows his eyes. “What, you let him hit dat?”

I swallow. Shift in my seat. “Why would you ask me something like that?”

“You just have dat look, yo. Dats all.”

“What look?” I ask curiously.

“If you ain't lettin' him hit it, then it don't matter, does it?”

“No, but I still want to know what you mean by that.”

“He hit dat yet?”

I frown, feeling uncomfortable. “That's none of your business.”

He stares at me, grinning. “Yeah, you right.”

I watch him finish up the rest of his fries, trying like heck to keep my gaze off his lips. I suddenly feel as if I'm cheating on Malik by having thoughts of how good Hazel Eyes' lips felt on me. Those are not thoughts I should still be having, right? I mean, we only fooled around twice. His lips are the last thing I should be daydreaming about, right?

I glance at my watch. It's a quarter to four. I push back my chair and stand. “Hey, I gotta get going. I'm supposed to meet my friend Jordan at four o'clock down in front of Sephora.”

“Oh, a'ight,” he says, scratching his chin and looking up at me.

“Okay, then. I'll see you around, I guess.”

“No doubt. Be easy.” I turn to leave, but he says something that stops me in my tracks. “That dude ain't right for you, Kennedy. I ain't 'bout kickin' no one's back in, feel me? But dude ain't gonna do nothin' but bring you down, yo.”

I blink. “Why would you say that?”

“I'm just sayin' . . . be careful, babe.” He tears his gaze away from mine and chomps heartily on the last bit of his sandwich.

I walk away without saying a word.

For the next three weeks, Malik and I become inseparable. I spend every day with him, sneaking off to be with him, some—no, most—nights not even bothering to go home. I've even quit my job just so I can have more time with him. Well, actually, to be perfectly honest, Malik suggested I quit. So I did. He said he didn't want to have to share me with a job. That he'd give me whatever I made every two weeks, plus an extra few hundred dollars.

My boo wants me all to himself.

Still... so much has happened in such a short period of time.

My mom and I, all we do is fight now, almost every day. Blaze no longer calls me. And it's really for the best, anyway. Then there's my strained relationship with Hope and Jordan. Every since I told them in confidence about Malik they've been against us being together. Well, moreso Jordan than Hope. Still, they both seem to have something snide to say about it. So I don't spend as much time with them anymore. Mostly because I get tired of them bashing Malik, who they don't even know. And bad-mouthing Sasha—who they've never met—like they're so perfect. I feel like I shouldn't have to constantly defend my boyfriend, or whom I want to hang out with, to them. Or to anyone, for that matter.

With Hope and Jordan, I feel like I am constantly under a microscope with them dissecting every little thing I say. It's become too exhausting trying to get them to respect my choices. So I've slowly distanced myself from them.

Besides, Malik feels it's for the best.

And I agree with him.

“Yo, I know they ya girlz 'n' all, but if they ain't tryna have anything good to say, then you need'a cut 'em off. Dey need to stop hatin' on ya man, yo. All dat negativity is for the birds, yo.”

“You're right,” I said, deciding right then and there to deal with them on a very limited basis. And I have been.

Malik stands behind me, hugging me. I can't lie. I won't lie. Malik's arms feel so good wrapped around me. I feel so wanted, so needed... so special.

“I can hold you in my arms forever, baby,” he says, kissing the back of my neck. Then pauses. “Yo what you thinkin' 'bout, huh?”

I smile, glancing up at him over my shoulder. “You.”

He grins. “Dats watz up, baby.” His cell starts ringing. He plucks his phone from off his hip, glancing at the screen. “Yo waddup? Oh, word? When? Oh, a'ight, bet. No doubt, no doubt... I got you. A'ight, bet.” He ends the call, then brings his attention back to me. “Check it, baby. I gotta make a quick run tonight.”

My mood immediately turns sour. He promised to take me out to dinner tonight. I look at him. My body stiffens. “A run where?”

He frowns. “Yo, wat I tell you 'bout questionin' me, huh?”

“I'm only asking. I thought we were going to go into the city tonight; that's all. I was really looking forward to it.”

“We was, but somethin' came up I gotta handle.”

“Oh,” I say, disappointed. “Well, what am I supposed to do while you're gone?”

He looks at me as if I've asked the dumbest question in the world. “Wait for me. What else?”

I frown. Try to break out of his embrace, but he is holding on tight. He turns me around to face him. “What, you mad now?”

“Nope.” I turn away from him, walking toward the door.

He grabs me. “Where you goin'?”

“Home,” I say, pouting.

He smirks. “Oh, word? And how you gettin' there?”

Oops. I hadn't thought about that.

I shrug. “I don't know. Walk.”

He chuckles. But I don't see anything amusing. “Yo, stop. You ain't walkin' nowhere. And you ain't leavin'.”

I suck my teeth and cross my arms. “I wanna go home.”

He smiles, looking me up and down.

“Nah, not tonight. You lookin' 'n' smellin' too good to go home.” He pulls me into his arms, then kisses me on my forehead, then the tip of my nose, then lightly on my lips. He presses himself into me. Then starts grinding real slow and nasty-like into me. I can feel his excitement growing. “I need you.” He glances at his watch. “C'mon. Let's lay down real quick.”

“Are you going to see some other girl?” I ask, feeling insecurity creep into my heart. I can't help but remember what his sister has said about him. Even though I know she was only saying those things to be messy and I've never told Malik everything she's said about him, her words linger in the back of my mind.

“Ain't no other girl, yo. It's me 'n' you, ya heard?”

I nod. “It better be.”

Malik gently grabs my chin and turns my face toward him. “Da only girl I'm checkin' for, Kennedy, is you, baby. You know dat, right?”

I look into his eyes for any signs of deceit. There are none. My disposition softens. I nod. “Yes.”

He grins. And then there's the sound of his pants being unzipped. “You my everything, baby; ya heard?”

I swallow and nod. “Yes.”

The last thing I remember before removing all of my clothes and getting swept up in the heat of his hands and kisses is him saying, “Let's make a baby . . .”

“G
irl, my period late,” I hear Mercedes telling someone on her cell as I walk into the kitchen to get something to drink. She's leaning over the sink, staring out of the window into the backyard.

She looks over her shoulder at me when she sees me going to the refrigerator. She sucks her teeth, straightening her body. “I don't need to take no test. I already know I am. My period is never late unless . . . uh-huh. Girl, who knows.” She laughs. “I tol' dat nucca to pull out... girl, please. I was lit dat night 'n' besides it was feelin' too good.”

She laughs again.

I pour myself some apple juice in a glass, trying to act like I'm not listening in on her conversation. I take a few slow sips.

Mercedes glances over at me, rolling her eyes. “Can I get some privacy? Unh-uh . . . Malik's li'l girlfriend he keeps leavin' over here. Mmph . . . don't even get me started.” She shoots another look at me, then rolls her eyes up in her head.

I press my lips tight, blinking my eyes real hard.
Why is she so dang hateful?

I quickly drink the rest of my juice, then wash and dry the cup out, put it back, then go back into Malik's bedroom. As soon as I get ready to turn on the TV and lie across the bed, Malik texts me and says he's on his way home. He wants me to heat up his food in the refrigerator. Now I have to go back into the kitchen. I suck my teeth, going to the bathroom, first, to wash my hands, then back out into the kitchen, hoping Mercedes is nowhere in sight.

She is.

I take a deep breath. Brace myself.

I can feel her eyes on me as I flit around the kitchen, pulling down a plate from out of the cabinet, then rinsing it off before placing his takeout from Munchies—a Jamaican restaurant in South Orange—onto his plate and putting it in the toaster oven.

I turn to walk out, catch Mercedes staring at me.

“You really think you got da magic touch, don't you?”

“Huh?” I ask, confused. “What do you mean by that?”

She twists her lips up. “It means, you really think Malik's all into you, don't you?”

I shrug. “He says he is.”

She laughs. “Nuccas say anything to anyone stupid enough to believe 'em.”

I blink. “I don't think I'm stupid.”

She laughs again. “You'se a lie. But dat's a matter of opinion.”

“How many months are you?” I ask, trying to change the subject. And I immediately regret having ever said a word to her.

“Why?” she says nastily.

I shrug. “I was only asking.”

“No, you were just bein' nosy. Tryna be all up in my business. You really think you betta than me don't you?”

“No. Of course not,” I say incredulously. “I don't think that about anyone.”

“Yes you do!” she snaps. “But you ain't. Just because you come from a little change dat don't make you better than me.”

“I know it doesn't.”

She rolls her eyes. “Mmph, it sure doesn't. But keep actin' like it does 'n' see what happens.”

I blink.

Then, without thinking about whether or not I should say it, without editing it in my mind first, I ask, “Do you know who the baby's father is?”

Her eyes darken. Her face hardens into an ugly stare. “
Bish
, yeah, I know who my baby
fahver
is. See. Dis why don't nobody 'round here like you. You too nosy 'n' stay tryna talk slick.”

I think to tell her I didn't mean it like that. But before I can open my mouth to plead my case, her mother walks into the kitchen and says, “Mercedes, I know you ain't even pregnant, again? Is you?”

Mercedes shoots a dirty look over at me, then sucks her teeth. “You see,
thot
. You 'n' ya big mouth.”

“I asked you a question,” her mother says, glaring at her. “Is you knocked up again?”

Mercedes looks at her mother and nods.

Her mother rolls her eyes, shaking her head. “See, dis here don't make no sense. You just had a baby three months ago 'n' ya knocked up, again. Mmph. What you gonna do wit' four babies? I know you ain't even tryna have it, is you?”

Mercedes shrugs. “I don't know yet.”

“Wat you mean you don't know yet, huh? You betta hope DYFS takes dis one, too, 'cause I ain't watchin' no kids.”

I blink.
Three babies?
She's only twenty-one! Ohmygod! I thought she only had the little girl.

“I said I don't know,” she snaps back at her mother. “Now get off my case about it. I'll let you know wat I'ma do when I know wat I'ma do.”

I quietly ease out of the kitchen, leaving the two of them there to argue. I want no part of any of their family squabble.

Ten minutes later, I go back out to the kitchen to check on Malik's plate. Mercedes comes back into the kitchen wearing a smirk on her smug face. “Someone's here to see you.”

I give her a confused look. “Someone's here to see who,
me
?”

She twists her lips up. “Umm, did I stutter? Who else do you see in da room? Yeah,
you
.”

“Who is it?”

She shoots me a dirty look. “Do I look like ya butler? You'll see when you get to da door.”

I turn the oven off, then remove the food. “Okay, well let me wrap up Malik's plate, first.” I pull out the aluminum foil from underneath the sink, wrap his plate up, place it back into the oven, then walk out into the living room.

I think I see her lips curl into a sly smirk.