Fast Life (9 page)

“Okay. Damn! Chill! Shit, I didn't want to tell you this,” she sighed.

“Tasha, you better tell me,” Kyra demanded.

“Basically Mercedes and Makai been having their little thing on the low-low, I guess. The night you left, he showed up at the Black and White Party. The guy she left with…it was him. I tried to talk to her. I asked her what the hell she was doing. I even reminded her that you and him are still together even though you moved, but she said she didn't give a fuck. She told me that they been fuckin' for the past few months. We got in a big argument and everything, and we almost started boxing right there in the club. We would've, too, if security hadn't been on some bullshit. After that night at the party, she started talking shit on you and she was showing up to school looking like she was big ballin' or something. I stopped talking to her as soon as I found out, 'cause I wasn't about to be associated with her, especially with how she was doing you,” she continued. “I'm sorry. I didn't know how to tell you. I mean, I tried to make everything seem normal until I got the chance…. I'm so sorry, girl,”

“I gotta go.” Kyra hung up. A powerful rage filled her. She knocked over the vase of flowers on the end table in her bedroom, which shattered against the wall. She found her small box of keepsakes and shredded all pictures of Makai and of Mercedes, leaving a trail of scraps all over her room. She threw away all the gifts from Makai. The last thing to go was the friendship bracelet Mercedes had given her. It was dropped in the trash can.

 

The phone rang what seemed like a million times the next morning, but Kyra never moved to answer it. Her mother would come in and tell her that the phone was for her, but she still would not respond. Her mother intruded to clean up the mess, asked tons of questions that went unanswered and opened the curtains, but Kyra rolled over with a groan and slid deeper under the covers. She didn't move and she refused to eat when breakfast was prepared. She didn't do anything but lie there and sulk.

Around three in the afternoon, Justin showed up. Kyra could hear her mother talking to him out in the living room. She managed to move a little, but she still couldn't get up. Not even for him.

“Nice to meet you. You can see if she'll talk to you, but I doubt it. I just don't know what's wrong. The girl won't eat and she won't come out of her room. She hasn't been out once all day,” Geneva Jones said, briefing Justin on her daughter's state, sounding mildly vexed.

“Okay. Thank you, Mrs. Jones.”

“Call me Geneva.”

Justin gently pushed the door open and entered Kyra's bedroom. From what her mother had told him and from what he could see, something was seriously wrong. He surveyed the trash can. It was filled with dried roses, scraps of paper and shards of glass.

“Kyra…” There was no movement. She made no noise at all. “Everybody's going out to get something to eat, and we wanted to know if you wanted to come. I've been calling you all day….”

Still there was nothing. Justin moved to Kyra's bed and sat next to the outline of her body. He set his hand on what he estimated to be her shoulder.

“I'm here, Kyra. Whatever it is…I'm here.”

Suddenly, Kyra moved. She slowly peeled the covers from her face to reveal her bloodshot eyes. She sat on her knees and pulled him to her, hugging him so tight it seemed that she didn't want to let him go.

“It's okay. It's okay.” Justin comforted her with a squeeze back.

She still hadn't said anything, but when she pulled away she looked into his eyes with longing.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” He was visibly concerned as his hands traced over her braids.

“No, I want to come with you. I…need you right now….” Those difficult words slipped out of Kyra's mouth. It was the first time she'd made this confession, not only to him but to herself, as well.

 

Kyra and Justin strolled into the restaurant to see their friends seated around a large round table—loud, smiling, laughing, joking and talking. Mama Caribbean's Café was tiny, but it was packed wall to wall. There was rhythmic reggae music blasting from a few speakers set around the room, and most of the patrons were teenagers. It was obvious that this was one of the teenage hangouts.

“Hey, Kyra!” Angel called, and waved. She was snug under Quentin's arm.

Kyra took a seat next to her while Justin sat on the other side of the table by Michael, who had brought a date. His date wore fake blue contacts, bright red lipstick and a tacky blond wig. She was outfitted in a pair of Daisy Dukes and a bright pink halter top with matching flip-flops.

“Hey, aren't you that one girl who was about to beat up Veronica the other day?” Michael's date blurted out.

“Yeah, somethin' like that. Justin, pass me a menu,” Kyra said as she reached out her hand, grabbed a menu and began looking it over.

“Everybody's talking about it! Anyways, my name is Lynette.”

“Hi.” Kyra was nonchalant and made a conscious effort not to look Lynette in the eyes for fear that she might burst out laughing.

“Mike baby, where's the potty?” Lynette turned to Michael with a whine.

“Straight down the back hall, baby.”

“Excuse me.” Lynette shimmied her way past Justin and followed Michael's directions. As soon as she was out of sight, the whole table burst into laughter.

“I must say, you've really outdone yourself this time.” Justin put his head down while laughing.

“Now, you know I don't talk about anyone, but I have to agree with J on that one,” Angel chimed in.

“All y'all can go to hell. I didn't even want her to come, but when I tried to sneak out her house this morning she caught me, and I had to bring her,” said Michael.

“Are you guys ready to order?” asked a tall girl with a short ponytail and glistening light brown eyes. She had a pen and pad in hand.

“Yeah, we're ready,” Michael said, rubbing his stomach. “I'll have the rack of ribs with some fries, some banana fritters and a large Sprite.”

“Damn, Mike. I'll just have a burger and fries with a chocolate shake,” Quentin said.

“I'll have the same,” Angel said, passing her menu to the side.

“I'll have the jerk chicken with shrimp on the side, and a Coke,” Justin said.

“And you, miss?” the waitress asked Kyra.

“Um…I dunno…” Kyra was staring blankly at the menu.

“She'll have the same as me,” Justin interjected.

“Okay, I'll be right back with your drinks,” the waitress said, and walked away from the table, with Michael's eyes glued to her backside.

“Damn, shorty got an ass on her!”

“Why'd you do that?” Kyra leaned over the table and whispered to Justin.

“You looked like you were about to panic or something, so I thought I was helping you out. Plus now you can try some Caribbean food,
real
food.”

“Well, it better be good, that's all I know.”

“I'm going to pull her number,” Michael schemed aloud.

“Didn't you come here with a girl?” Kyra commented.

“Yeah.…So?” He sounded as if it didn't matter, because to him it didn't. Kyra just shook her head at him in disapproval.

The waitress returned with a tray of drinks and handed them around. She was in the middle of tending to her other tables when Michael stopped her.

“Hey, uh…Wendy…” Michael called out to her, reading the name tag on her uniform.

“Yes?” In no time, she was again near their table and awaiting his request.

“You know, you're looking real good today in that uniform,” he told her.

“Thank you. Is there something else you want to order? I have tables waiting.”

“I want dessert.”

“Okay. What would you like?” she asked, taking out her pen and pad to scribble down his order.

“You.” He threw a wink at the waitress, which made her grin. “So can I get your number? We can go somewhere and chill tonight. I'll take you anywhere you want to go.”

“Um…sure…but I get off at six.” Wendy shyly smiled and walked away. She seemed flattered by his game.

“Hey, guys, I'm back. Sorry about that,” Lynette said, returning after a ten-minute absence. “Did the waitress take orders yet?”

“Yeah,” Michael said with an attitude.

“You can probably catch her when she comes back around,” Angel added.

“No she can't. I'm not paying for anything. Look, Lynette, it's been fun, but you have to go,” Michael said coldly.

“What?” She looked puzzled.

“I said you gotta go. I got people waiting on me, so you need to vacate.”

“Oh, so you're going to try and play me? Even after you were all up in this last night! But you know what? It's all good.
It's all good
. I'll see you guys later. Bye!” Lynette exploded before storming out of the restaurant.

“Is everything okay over here?” Wendy asked upon her return with a their food.

“Yeah, it's cool, baby,” Michael answered casually.

“Here goes your food. Enjoy. I'll bring the check around later.”

“Mmm. This smells good,” Kyra said, sniffing her plate with delight.

“Taste it,” Justin suggested. He watched her to take in her reaction.

She took a piece of chicken into her mouth and slowly began to chew it. In seconds, her eyes lit up.

“Mmm…this is really good! It's kinda spicy, though.”

“Oh, Ms. Feisty herself can't handle some spice?”

“Boy, please!” Kyra dug in.

“Hey, Justin baby!” Veronica squealed, entering in her short, tight yellow dress and white cat's-eye sunglasses. She hugged him and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“What are you doing here, Veronica?” He was clearly irritated as he pushed her off and wiped his cheek.

“I just stopped by with the girls to grab a bite to eat, and poof! Here you are! What a coincidence!”

The phony smile on her face faded when she noticed Kyra. “What is
she
doing here?” Veronica said as she looked her enemy up and down.

“She's here because
I
invited her,” Justin shot back.

Veronica started mumbling something in French. Kyra didn't understand a word, but Veronica shut her mouth when she noticed Kyra running her fingers over the knife next to her plate. “Hey, come on. The table is ready,” Bridgette announced.

“I don't want to eat here anymore! Let's go!” Veronica snapped as she shoved past her friends and out the door. Nicole was so busy waving and smiling at Michael that Bridgette had to pull her out the door. Before everyone knew it, they'd left as quickly as they had come.

Between jamming to the loud music, finishing their food and small conversation, six o'clock rolled around quickly.

Kyra and Justin sat in the backseat of the convertible as Michael drove with Wendy in the passenger seat. The car zoomed along the empty roads as the sun began to set on the horizon. It was a beautiful sight. No one spoke, except for few flirtatious expressions tossed between Michael and Wendy.

“I think I'm gonna be sick,” Kyra leaned over and whispered to Justin, smiling.

“I know, right,” he answered, intoxicated by the smell of her perfume.

For the duration of the ride, Justin kept finding himself looking over at Kyra. He took in her presence—her smell, her face, her smile, her body, her laugh, how she talked, her voice, how she dressed—everything about her. He thought she was truly beautiful, and in his eyes, she was the very definition of sexy. He just had to have her. They had a friendship on the surface, but deep down it was more.

 

“Hey, J, this is your stop, too.” Michael let the car come to a halt in the driveway of Kyra's house.

“Stop playing and drive me home.”

“I can't even do that playa. Wendy and I have plans,” he said, turning to Wendy and sliding his hand between her thighs. She let out a giggle.

“Man…” Justin sighed heavily as he surrendered his own vehicle for his friend's benefit.

“You understand, right? I mean, you know how it is.” Michael was enjoying toying with him. Justin stepped out of the car and scowled at his friend. He leaned down to be face-to-face with him as he spoke in a low and serious tone. “If you mess up my car I'll fuck you up, Mike.”

Michael flashed him a mischievous smile.

“I mean it!”

Justin's threat hung in the air as Michael sped down the street. Justin mumbled under his breath. He turned around when he felt a soft hand on his shoulder.

“What was all that about?”

“Nothing. It's just that he knows he could've taken me home.”