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Authors: Amir Abrams

BOOK: Crazy Love
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I won't lose him!
I pull back from him. “I want that girl off your Facebook page, and I want her blocked.”
He looks at me. He doesn't blink. “A'ight, you got that.”
I stare him down. “Do it now.”
He gets up, trying to hide his excitement from all the kissing we've been doing. I smile, knowing he is turned on as much as I am. I watch as he walks over and grabs his phone from off the bar, then comes back over and sits next to me. I keep my eyes on him, and the screen, as he scrolls through his phone, then clicks on the Facebook app. He clicks on her page, then unfriends her.
One click, and . . .
poof!
That ho is deleted!
I lean into him and kiss him softly on the lips, parting my mouth, welcoming him back in. We continue our tongue dance until we hear his mother at the top of the stairs calling down to us.
“Sincere? Kamiyah?”
“Yeah, Mom?”
“C'mon up. Kamiyah's parents are ready to leave.”
“We'll be right up.”
We pull ourselves together. I grab my bag that I had left behind when we went walking. Sincere kisses me one last time.
“I forgot to ask you what you told your mom,” I whisper as we make our way up the stairs.
“I told her that Lana started it. That she kept provoking you.”
“Oh . . .” I say, feeling relieved and surprised.
I am smiling.
 
“Ohmygod . . . ohmygod! Girl, you are all up on Facebook
and
YouTube!” Ameerah states excitedly the minute I answer my cell. I am looking in the mirror in my bedroom at Dad's house, staring at the scratches on my neck and across my face. Ameerah has me on speakerphone with Zahara and Brittani.
“Say
whaaat
?!”
“Girl, you heard her,” Brittani chimes in. “It's all up on Facebook
and
Youtube.”
“Ohmygod, are you serious?” I say, shocked. Well. . .I mean, not really, since I saw heads with their phones out. But still, I didn't think Zahara and them would hear about it; not like that.
“Honeeeey, it's all over the Net,” Zahara says, as if she read my thoughts. “Someone posted the video of you fighting some chick in the pizzeria and it's getting mad hits. Now, spill it. Who is this broad you stomped? When did this beatdown go down? And what did she do for you to do her like that? 'Cause honeeeey . . . from that video, you were airing her out.”
“How did y'all find out about it? It happened like five hours ago.”
“One of Briana's Facebook friend's friend linked it on another friend's page, and that friend's friend shared it with someone else and somehow Briana saw it. She texted me and told me to go onto her page and see it for myself.”
I cut off the bathroom light. Then walk over and plop down on my bed. I'm sore and tired. This whole day has been one big tragedy.
It's all Sincere's fault. All he had to do was check that ho!
“And how do you know it's on YouTube?”
Zahara says, “Girlfriend, all you gotta do is type in
beatdown in South Orange pizzeria
and
whooop
. . . there it is. Now enough with all this back-and-forth; we want details.”
I type
beatdown in South Orange pizzeria
in the search engine. And sure enough, there it is. I am tearing the place up. I feel sick to my stomach! It's bad enough I have to pay for damages to the property. And it's even worse that I have charges pressed against me by that chick. Now this! If my parents see this, especially my mother, I'm dead for sure. I watch the video, telling them what popped off between me and that chick.
“Oh, she deserved that, then,” Zahara says. “That stunt she pulled was a definite no-no. She better be glad we weren't there with you. You know we would have tag-teamed that ho.”
“Yeah, girl,” Brittani agrees. “She was definitely outta pocket.”
“But, damn, Miyah,” Ameerah says. “It looks like you were trying to rip her scalp out. You could have really hurt that girl.”
I sigh. “Yeah, I know. Well, she shoulda stayed in her lane. I bet you she'll think twice before she pulls that little stunt again.”
“Do your parents know?” Zahara asks.
“Yeah, they know. They had to come down to the police station to get me.”
“The
police
?” they say in unison.
“Oh no. Poor ting-ting,” Zahara says. “I know your mom musta been flipping her lid on you. What did she say or do? How long are you on punishment for?”
“Oh no, girl, wait. You better not be on punishment for my birthday,” Brittani adds.
I sigh. “I know, right. So far she hasn't said anything to me. I mean she screamed on me in the car, but after that she hasn't said one word. I think she's extra pissed over the whole thing.”
Zahara grunts. “Mmmph, and I can't understand why your man was standing there looking all dumb and whatnot.”
What in the hell?
I frown. “Hold up. He wasn't looking all dumb,” I say defensively. “He tried to check her,” I lie. But so what! I can talk about Sincere, but I'm not about to sit here and let her, or anyone else, pop junk about him—even if he was dead wrong. “That broad was straight belligerent with it. She wasn't tryna hear it. She just kept going.”
“Still,” Zahara continues, smacking her lips together, “he couldn't even handle the situation. He shoulda squashed that before it got messy. He's a real bum for that one, boo. I know that's your man and all. But I'm saying.”
“You saying
what
, boo?” I snap, hopping up from my bed. I am pacing the floor now, trying to calm myself before I go off on her. “Don't be calling my man no bum. Yeah, maybe he coulda handled it differently. But he didn't. And it doesn't matter 'cause I handled it for him, for the both of us. So watch what you say.”
“Or what?” Zahara challenges. “I'll say what the hell I want. I said he was a bum for that. And that's what I meant.”
Or you'll end up getting what that ho in the pizzeria got
. “You know what. You're the damn
bum
with that raggedy weave all up on your bald-headed scalp. Don't be going in on my man. Find a man of your own first.”
“I don't need a man,” she snaps back.
I laugh sarcastically. “I guess not, when you're too busy tryna scheme on everyone else's.”
I hear a few
Ohmygod
s in the background. Probably from Ameerah and Brittani.
“Oh, wait one damn minute. What is that supposed to mean?”
“C'mon, y'all,” Brittani says, tryna play peacekeeper. “Y'all can't be beefing over no boys. That's not how we get down, and y'all know it.”
“Mmmmph,” Zahara grunts. “Tell that to her. She's the one always getting defensive anytime someone says something she doesn't like about her so-called man.”
“I do not.”
“Whatever, ho. You do, too. Ever since you got with him you been acting all funny-style. I'm done with it. Ameerah and Brit, I'll get up with y'all. Call me when you're finished talking to her.”
“Whatever,” I say. “The only ho is you. Slurping all up on Jarrell and anyone else you can drop down on your knees to.”
She curses me out, calling me all kinds of names, then disconnects from the line.
“Ohmygod,” Ameerah and Brittani say.
“What in the heck was that all about?” Brittani wants to know. “And what do you mean, she's slurping down Jarrell? They're messing around? Since when?”
I sigh. “Just drop it.” I sit back on my bed.
“Dang, Miyah,” Ameerah says. “Why you do her like that? You know Zee wasn't tryna go in on your man.”
“I know. But still. Sometimes she goes a little too overboard. Look. I'm tired, y'all. I'll call y'all tomorrow.” We talk for a few minutes more, then disconnect.
Zahara is a damn hater!
18
I
t's early Sunday morning—a little
too
early for me. It's 7:38 to be exact—when I hear what sounds like a heated discussion between my parents. I open my door. They are downstairs in the living room. I tiptoe—why, I have no idea, since our floors are carpeted—toward the top of the stairs and listen.
“I'm not saying she can't see him, Erik,” I overhear. The Wicked Witch is arguing. And Daddy is doing what he normally does—letting her go on and on and on. He has told her that she is being unreasonable by forbidding me to go over to Sincere's house anymore. “All I'm saying is, it needs to be monitored more closely. Kamiyah is too young to be getting so serious with him; with anyone, for that matter. First it's with the constant phone calls and excessive texts. And after this mess with her fighting some girl over him, I'm convinced it isn't healthy.”
“Kayla, I agree. She is too young. But we've already been down this road with Erika. And you know how that turned out. It was disastrous. The two of you fought constantly. And in the end, she was still with that boy, what's-his-name.”
“Don't remind me. Still, Kamiyah is getting too wrapped up in her relationship with Sincere. And I don't like it.”
“Look, I hear you. But I'm not going through what we went through with Erika again. And I don't want the cops being called again because my wife and daughter can't get along with each other. Every other week the cops were being called. I won't have it. Kamiyah can still see him. As long as Sincere's parents are home, she's allowed over there. And that's that. His mother doesn't have a problem with it and neither do I. When she's here with you, if you don't want her there, then fine. But when she's with me, she's allowed to go as long as someone is home.”
“Are you serious, Erik? I mean, really. That's part of the problem. I say one thing, and you turn around and let her do the exact opposite. I can't understand why you undermine everything I do and say when it comes to that girl.”
“
That girl
is our daughter.”
“And
I
am your
wife
.”
“I don't need you to remind me of that,” Daddy says. “I know who I'm married to.”
“Then act like it! And stop undermining everything I do. Stop letting our daughter run you.”
“Oh, so that's what you think she's doing? Running me? Like you've been doing?”
“Excuse you? I've
never
tried to run you, Erik. And I resent you for saying that.”
“Look. I don't want to turn this into an argument. I apologize if you feel that way. It's not my intention to undermine you. I simply don't always agree with your approach, which hasn't been too successful, thus far.”
Uh-oh
, I think, leaning up against the wall.
This is about to get real ugly.
“Excuse
you
?! What exactly is that supposed to mean?”
I hear Daddy sigh. “Look, forget it.”
“Oh no. I don't think so. We're not about to forget nothing. If you have something to say, then say it. First you accuse me of trying to run you. Now you're questioning my parenting.”
“Kayla, listen.”
“No, Erik. You listen. Before you start throwing darts at me, take a look at your own crap. I am the
only
one who has ever been consistent with our children. So don't go pointing fingers at me without pointing them at yourself first.”
“I shouldn't have said that.”
“Well, you did.”
“I know you love our daughters as much as I do. I have always tried to stay out of how you parented them because they're girls, and you are their mother. But you were too hard on Erika. And that only pushed her farther away. Then when she moved out, you started doing it to Kamiyah.”
“
Doing it?
What is
it
I'm doing, Erik?”
“Controlling everything she does. Suffocating her.”
Oh, wow . . . you go, Daddy! I'll have to be sure to use that one.
“So, you're saying
I'm
the problem here? Is that what you're getting at?”
“No. I'm saying keeping Kamiyah chained in the house isn't the right approach. Not allowing her the freedom to make mistakes and hopefully learn from them isn't helping her. In the end, it will only hurt her more.”
“So you're saying it's okay for her to be out in the streets fighting and getting arrested. Is that what I'm hearing?”
“C'mon, Kayla, be for real here. You know that's
not
all right.”
“Mmmph, sounds like it is to me.”
“We didn't raise her to go looking for trouble. But we did raise her to defend herself.”
“
Defend
herself? Did you not read the police report? Kamiyah wasn't defending herself. It sounds more like she was trying to defend her position in her relationship with Sincere—who is the common denominator in this mess. Kamiyah attacked that girl. It's no different from when she attacked that other girl two years ago—
again
, over some boy.”
OMG, she doesn't even know what she's talking about. I didn't attack anyone. When I fought that girl, Jessica what's-her-face, it was because she deserved it. She was tryna ho herself out to James, who she
knew
was my boyfriend at the time. She and I weren't the best of friends, but we were still cool. And the fact that she would smile up in my face, knowing she was scheming behind my back on how she could get with my man, was just cause for me to drag her out of her house and beat her down. Okay, so I broke her nose and my parents had to pay for her medical bills and I was put on punishment for a whole month afterward—still, she deserved it. And it was well worth it. She was a skank. And, I quickly learned, so was he.
“The only difference this time,” she continues, “is that she got arrested and charged for it.”
“Kayla, you heard what Sincere's mother said. That girl was provoking Kamiyah.”
“Mmmph . . . that's the story Sincere told her. If you want to buy it, too, then you go right ahead.”
“That boy has no reason to lie to his mother about what happened.”
“And I bet you he has one good reason to: Kamiyah.”
“You know what, Kayla. Do whatever you want. You seem to always have the answers. But I'm telling you, trying to stop her from seeing Sincere is only going to backfire on us. You know it as much as I do.”
I hear her huff. “Fine. But she's going to to be on a very, very short leash.”
“And you think trying to control her is going to make things better? That it's going to stop whatever you think is going to happen?”
“I'm not trying to
control
her. I'm trying—”
“Kayla, stop it. Everything is always about control for you, even down to this marriage.”
I am shocked to hear Daddy tell her this. I know, I know. I shouldn't be ear-hustling on their conversation, but it's the only way I know what's really going on with them. And besides, you never know what might be heard that I can use against her—or at the very least, throw back up in her face.
“Erik, how dare you? That is not so.”
“It is. And the sooner you recognize it, the better.”
“Kamiyah is changing. I can't put my finger on it. But I am telling you, it isn't for the good.”
“Our little girl's growing up, Kayla. And she wants to make her own decisions. That's all. And we as her parents have to be able to allow her the room to do so, within reason. That is the only way she will learn.”
“You know what, Erik. Do whatever you want. I'm done. But know this. When the shit hits the fan, do not say I didn't warn you.” And with that said, I hear the door open, then shut.
I tiptoe back to my room and peek out of my window. I watch as the Wicked Witch hops on her broomstick, then speeds off—pissed!
Whatever!
 
Later on in the evening, I am downstairs in the basement working on a contemporary ballet piece. Daddy had a room built down here specifically for me to practice dance in when he first moved here. There are mirrors—which happen to be a dancer's best friend—all over. There's a beautiful wood floor and I have an adjustable barre. The only furniture is a white leather sofa.
I've gone through Daddy's extensive music collection and have found the perfect song. An instrumental piece called “Moments in Love” by Art of Noise—this white group from waaaay back in the day. It's a rare version he has. OMG, it's sexy. And it's absolutely beautiful. It's the song I wanna use for my Juilliard audition.
I have the stereo on blast. I close my eyes and let the music lift me. Deep breath; shoulders back. I am so caught up in the moment, lost in the music—in its instrumentation—that I don't even realize I am crying or that I am being watched until the music stops and I hear clapping.
Startled, I look over and it's Sincere, standing in the doorway. “That was beautiful,” he says, smiling.
“Thank you,” I say, walking over to him, wiping my eyes with the back of my hands. I am so happy to see him.
“Damn, you a'ight? Why you crying?”
I shake my head. “I'm not crying.”
He eyes me. “Looks like it to me. But a'ight; if you say so.”
I smile. “Trust me. I have nothing to cry about.” I know it's a lie, but the truth is, I don't know why I was crying. “How long were you standing there?”
“Long enough to see how talented you are.”
I smile. “My dad let you in?”
He shakes his head. “No, your mom did. She told me you were down here practicing.”
I am shocked. “Wow,” is all I can say. I lift up on my tippy-toes and kiss him.
“You're real sexy in them tights.”
I laugh. “It's a leotard.”
“Yeah, you're real sexy in that, too.”
I smile.
“So, what was the name of that song you were dancing to? It was sounding a'ight.”
“‘Moments in Love,'” I tell him, grabbing a towel and dabbing the sweat from around my neck. Sincere walks over to the sofa and takes a seat. “I wanna use it for my Juilliard audition.” I toss the towel over on the barre.
He leans back, legs wide, staring at me intently. “Real sexy,” he says, licking his lips.
“What's real sexy?”
“You. That little thing with all them sexy spins you were doing. The music. All of it.”
I realize that that was the first time Sincere has seen me dance. “Thanks. I'm glad you liked it.”
“Nah, I loved it. Damn, Miyah, you got real skills, baby. I didn't know you were
that
good. You're about to be the Beyoncé of ballet.”
I laugh, walking over to him. “Whatever.” I sit on the sofa next to him, lifting his arm up, then draping it over my shoulder. I lean back on him. “Well, I'm good at a lot of things.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
I look up at him. “Like this,” I say, kissing him on the lips.
“Yeah, okay. What else?”
I grin. “I'm not saying. You'll have to find out.”
He laughs. “Oh, word? It's like that?”
“Yup.”
He kisses me again, gazing in my eyes. “Dance for me.”
“Now?”
“Yeah. Do something just for me.”
I smile, getting up. “And I have just the song,” I tell him, walking over to the stereo. I shuffle through a stack of CDs until I find the one I want, slip it in, then skip through the tracks. Jill Scott's “He Loves Me” starts playing. And for the next five minutes and forty seconds, I give Sincere a dance he'll never forget. I give him my heart and my soul. I give him everything that I am. And everything he is to me.

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