The Girl of His Dreams (27 page)

Wipin' my nose wit' the palm of my hand, I nod. “Her name's Miesha.”

“Then go get Miesha.”

“M
iesha,” my mom says, walkin' into my room
without
knocking. Ever since our last big blow-up she's been tryna be extra nice to me. But I'm not buying it. The guilt of her saying what she said to me is eating her up. Good. “There's someone standing outside to see you.”

I've been in my room the whole weekend, OD'ing on reality TV. And I stayed up all last night watching the first two seasons of
Dexter
on Netflix. He's one sick, twisted character, but I'm hooked. Now today, all I wanna do is watch the rest of
Project Runway
, then curl up under the covers and sleep the rest of the day away. I just wanna go to sleep and
not
wake up again until my eighteenth birthday when I can get outta Jersey City and as far away from McPherson High as I possibly can. I don't wanna have any reminders of Antonio Lopez or his drama. And to think I was ready to give him another chance after I had that little chat in the girls' bathroom with Quanda. Oh my god, I woulda looked like such a fool going back to him, then finding out that some chick was having his baby. Thank goodness for gossiping-azz chicks like Fiona. Otherwise, I woulda been looking like Boo-Boo the damn Fool.

I roll my eyes, clicking the remote. “Whoever it is, tell them to go away. I'm not interested.”

“You don't even know who it is.”

I shoot her a look. “And I don't wanna know. Now can you leave my room? And shut the door behind you. Please and thank you.” I go back to clicking the remote.

She walks all the way into my room, yanks the remote outta my hand, then shuts off the TV. “What the—”

“Listen here, Miesha. You can be mad at me all you want. And all that attitude is fine and good. But you sitting around here moping is not gonna change the fact that
you
miss him, okay?”

I blink. “I don't know what you're talking about. There is no
him
, okay?”

“Oh yes, there is a
him
. And
he's
standing outside, looking all lost and pitiful, wanting to talk to
you
.
He's
the reason you've been coming straight home from school, and locking yourself away in this room. Look at you. You're not even eating.”

I sigh. “I haven't been hungry, okay? And I just don't feel like being bothered with anyone. So, please, can you drop it?”

She narrows her eyes. “Don't give me that. And no, I won't drop it. That boy came over here three, maybe four, times last week. And all you did was scream at him, then slam the door in his face. Well, what do you think screaming accomplished? Did it make you feel better? Did it solve whatever problems the two of you are having, huh?”

“
We
don't have any problems. He does. And no, screaming at him didn't solve anything. There's nothing to solve. He's a cheater. And I'm not beat.”

“And you know this to be fact, how? Has he cheated on you?”

I huff, folding my arms. “Well, no. Not exactly—not that I know. But a buncha chicks stay sweating him, and I know it's only a matter of time before he cheats, so I'm not gonna sit around investing a buncha time and energy into a boy who I know is only gonna dog me out in the end.”

“So you're not even willing to give this young man the benefit of the doubt?”

“It doesn't matter 'cause I'm not messing with him. Not after finding out that he has some girl pregnant. I don't do baby daddies and I'm not about to play stepmommy to some other girl's baby. Oh, no. I'm not that chick.”

She shakes her head. “I think you should talk to him before you start jumping to conclusions. Hear him out, first.”

I frown. “And what's it to you? Why do you care whether or not I talk to him? You don't even know who
he
is.”

“I know he's that same young man who picked you up and took you out on a date. I saw how excited you were. I saw it in your eyes. And besides, your father told me he'd spoken to you about him.”

“And I also know he's the same young man who you were staying out past curfew with on more than one occasion. He made you smile, Miesha. You think I didn't notice? You're my daughter. I know when you're hurting or sad. And I know when you
like
someone. But this time, it's more than like. You've never moped around before, looking all miserable, over a boy. . . .”

“Exactly,” I say, eyeing her. “I dismiss 'em, then
boom
. . . on to the next! I'm not
you
. I don't sit around crying over no boy. And I'm not about to spend my life running behind some boy who wants to be all up in a buncha other girls' faces. All that sleeping around with a buncha different girls . . . mmmph, no thank you. He's too much like Daddy, and I don't wanna end up like
you
.”

She blinks. Pulls in her bottom lip. Then takes a deep breath. “Don't compare what I've gone through with your father to what you may or may not end up going through. I made choices. And so did your father. I chose to run behind him because
he's
who I chose to be with. But you don't have to make that choice unless
you
want to. If you don't wanna end up like me, then don't. But don't throw away what could possibly be a good relationship with a good guy who
maybe
has had some troubles trusting. At least talk to him.”

“I have nothing to say to him.”

She shakes her head. “Girl, you are about as stubborn and bullheaded as your father.”

I roll my eyes. “Are you taking him back?”

“Don't try and change the subject, Miesha. This isn't about me and your father. This is about
you
.”

“And
that
is about me, too. So are you going back to Daddy,
again
?”

She sighs. “Miesha, I don't know what I'm doing. I love your father, period. But, I no longer love him enough to settle. I'm not willing to share him with other women, not this time. So if I decide to go back to him,
again
, it will be on
my
terms. Not his. But for right now, your father and I are talking. We are communicating. I am listening to him. Something he says I never did. Something you need to learn to do. Listen. Stop flying off the handle. You go from zero to one hundred for no rhyme or reason, like I do. If you don't wanna be like me, then don't be like me. Listen. Go out there and hear what that young man has to say. And then decide what's gonna work for you. You owe yourself, and him, at least that. Now take a few minutes to get yourself together. Then go out there and look that boy in the eyes and
listen
to him. I'll tell him you'll be out in a minute.” She walks toward the door, looks over at me, then shakes her head. “Stop being so stubborn.” She shuts the door behind her, leaving me feeling more confused than ever.

I
've been outside pacin' back 'n' forth, waitin', tryna play out in my head what I wanna say. But e'erything in my head is all jumbled up. I'm still tryna sort through the bomb Pops dropped on me yesterday. After he left my room, I spent the rest of the night lookin' at all'a those pictures Pops had stuffed in that shoebox. There were eighty-seven flicks all together of my mom, of me, of Pops, of all three of us together, of me 'n' my moms, and of me 'n' Pops. Flicks of my first six birthdays wit' birthday hats on 'n' cakes wit' candles on 'em. And in e'ery flick, I was all smiles, lookin' mad happy. The happiest I had ever been 'til Miesha came into my life.

I'm all effed up inside, yo. This girl got me feelin' ish I didn't know I could feel. She got me thinkin' ish I never thought I'd be thinkin' 'n' now I'm standin' here 'bout to say some ish I never thought I'd say.

My heart leaps in my chest the minute she comes to the door. She opens it, and steps out on the porch. All I keep thinkin' 'bout as she's ice-grillin' me is how beautiful 'n' sexy she is. How badly I wanna reach out 'n' touch her, pull her into my arms 'n' never let her go.

“How can I help you?”

I walk up the stairs, but she puts a hand up to stop me.

“No, don't come up here. Now, what do you want?”

“I just wanna talk,” I say, tryna keep calm. But inside, I'm mad nervous. And now I wish I woulda smoked before comin' over here.

“I want you to stay away from me, Antonio,” she says, slammin' a hand against her curvy hip. I try not to remember how my hands felt up on her hips. I don't wanna let my thoughts take me there. But, the way them yellow sweats are huggin' her hips isn't makin' it easy not to go there.

“I can't, yo.”

“I'm not playing with you, Antonio. I mean it. I'm done with you.”

I know she's pissed, but I'm not 'bout to throw in the towel wit' out goin' down wit' a bang. “I miss you.”

Her eyes narrow to slits. “Well that's too bad 'cause I don't miss you. As a matter of fact, the sight of you is making me sick.”

“You don't mean that, yo. That's anger talkin', yo. C'mon, you can't give me another chance?” I'm tryin' like hell to keep from scoopin' her up in my arms 'n' kissin' her. Even though her face is lookin' extra tight, frownin' at me, she looks mad sexy standin' here wit' her arms folded.

“Nope,” she says. “I'm not in the habit of giving out second chances. You had your first and only chance. And you blew it, boy. I don't do playboys. Been there, done that. Now bounce. We ain't got nothing else to say to each other. When you see me in the halls, just keep it moving. Don't look my way 'cause I'm definitely not gonna be looking yours.”

I can tell she's hurt. And I feel really bad. Real talk. She goes to walk back into the crib 'n' shut the door in my face. “Yo, Miesha, wait!
Please!”
Yes, I'm goin' out like a sucker, beggin'—again.

“Beat it!” She goes to shut the door, but I call out to her, again. “What?” she snaps, her 'tude still on ten. She folds her arms. “Well . . .”

“Listen. I, uh...I know you think I ain't shit. And I'ma keep it a hunnid. I haven't always been, yo. I've smashed mad girls. And all it was was a buncha empty sex, yo. I've dogged mad girls 'cause they'd let me. And I've gassed a buncha broads' heads up, tellin' 'em all what they wanna hear. But I ain't never front on you, yo. From the rip, I've kept it straight-laced wit' you. I dig you, Miesha. Real ish, yo. I've never felt 'bout any other female the way I feel 'bout you. I can't eat. I can't sleep. I can't even think straight wit' out seein' you. I miss you, Miesha. I put that on e'ery-thing. I'm all effed up, yo. I'm empty.”

She narrows her eyes. “Then why the heck did you let her in your house with only your boxers on?”

“I thought it was you. When I heard the doorbell ring, I just opened the door. If I woulda knew it was her, I woulda never opened it, yo.”

“Yeah right, but you still let her in,
after
you knew it was her.”

“She begged me to let her talk, like I'm doin'. I'm beggin' you, yo. Just give me another chance.”

“Well,
maybe
you wasn't tryna get with her. And
maybe
you are telling the truth about that. But I'm still not beat for you, boy. So don't come over here anymore. I'm not ever gonna be some silly chick who puts up with her man cheating and lying to her. And I'm definitely
not
about to do no boy with babies. Oh, no, boo-boo. I ain't signing up for that.”

I blink.
How'd she find out 'bout that?

“Yeah, that's right,
baby
. You didn't think I would find out, huh? Well, yeah. I heard all about the baby you got on the way with the little church mouse. I asked you when we were out having dinner if you had kids and you told me
no
.”

“I don't,” I say, runnin' my hand over my face, then head.

“Yeah, whatever. Save your lies. I'm done.”

I swallow. I try to keep my voice from crackin'. But she's killin' me. “Will you just listen to me? Please. It's
not
my baby. That broad lied on me, yo.”

She frowns. “What?”

“It was all a lie. She only said it to get back at me for tellin' her I wasn't beat for her. She felt like I was playin' 'er. She had her parents all up in my crib believin' that BS. But it's not true. My pops told me this morning before coming here that her pops called him to apologize, yo. She admitted to her parents it's not mine.”

“Well, good for you. That doesn't change the fact that you didn't mention it.”

“I didn't say anything, not because I was tryna hide something, but because I knew that girl was lying on me.”

She twists her lips up. “And how many other chicks you got out here
claiming
to be knocked up by you?”

“None, yo.”

“Good for you. I'm still not interested. I'm never gonna be the kinda chick you gonna try'n run game on, boy. I'm not gonna let you hurt me. That's not what I'ma 'bout to let
you
or any other boy do.”

I feel myself gettin' all choked up 'n' ish. “I'm not tryna hurt you,” I say, tryna keep my voice from crackin'.

She eyes me all crazy-like, but at least she ain't tellin' me to go screw off. Her arms are still folded, but her face ain't all tight like it was. “Then
what
are you tryna do?”

“Love you.” It comes out in almost a whisper. Those are words I've never said to—or felt for—any other female, 'cept to my moms.

She blinks. “What did you say?”

I repeat myself. This time it comes out clear 'n' steady. “I'm tryna love you, yo. If you'd let me. That's it. I ain't perfect, yo. And I don't know what might pop off tomorrow or the day after that. But what I do know is, nothin's been right wit' out you. I want you back in my life, Miesha. I got it bad for you, yo.” I keep my eyes focused on her when I say this, but I can't read her expression. I can't tell what she's thinkin', but I'm still hopeful. The door hasn't slammed in my face, so I know I still gotta shot.

She grunts. “Mmph. That's what your mouth says. And how do I know you won't get tempted and start creeping with them chickenheads you got clucking around you all the time?”

“Because, on e'erything, I won't. I'm not beat for none of them broads, yo. That's my word. On some real ish, the first time I peeped you walkin' into the cafeteria, I knew I had to get at you. At first, I ain't gonna front, it was on some real hit-it-'n'-quit-it type stuff, but then...I don't know. I peeped how you moved and I knew you were the kinda girl I could fall for. And that's on e'erything, yo. Even when you was playin' me to the left, that only made me wanna get at you more.”

“Then you're a damn fool.”

I shake my head. “Nah . . . that makes me—for the first time in my life, yo—someone who finally knows what he wants. And the moment you kissed me, I knew what I already felt—that you were the one for me.”

She stares at me, and shifts her eyes. I can tell she's tryna not to cry 'n' that effs me up even more. I don't wanna ever see her hurtin'. I pull her into my arms, relieved she doesn't push me away. I know she's angry 'n' hurt, but I see more, I feel more. E'erything in my heart aches for her. And I know she wants me, needs me, as badly as I want 'n' need her.

“I love you, Miesha,” I whisper, pullin' her in closer. I lift her chin. “I love you,” I say again, leanin' in to kiss her. She moves her head away, but I don't stop. I keep sayin' it over 'n' over 'til she finally hears it, 'til it finally sinks in, that I am in love wit' her. I lean in again, brushin' my lips against her wet cheek. “I love you.”

“I don't believe you, Antonio.” She says this, but that's not what I see in her eyes. She sees what I feel for her. And she feels it.

“Real rap, yo. All I wanna do is hold you in my arms, 'n' watch those flicks
Dear John
'n'
The Notebook
wit'—”

“And
Titanic,
” she cuts in, raisin' an eyebrow.

I grin. “Yeah, that one, too. Or any other love flick that makes you smile.” She looks me in my eyes, intensely. “Let me be ya man, Miesha. I've never wanted to be wit' anyone the way I wanna be wit' you. I trust you wit' my heart. And, now . . .” I swallow back my emotions. “All I'm askin' is for you to trust me wit' yours.”

I kiss her on the lips 'n' this time she doesn't pull away. She cups me on the back of the neck 'n' pulls me forward, kissin' me back—deep. The kiss is fast 'n' intense, before she pulls away. Before she allows me or herself to get caught up in it, lost in the moment.

“And
why
should I do that? Why should I trust you with anything of mine, huh, Antonio? Especially my heart.”

I look into her beautiful brown eyes, knowin' that wit' out a doubt I am turnin' in my player's card to be true to her. I'm done wit' runnin' game 'n' tryna have more than one girl. I smile. Real rap, Miesha Wilson is all I need, yo. All I wanna need. “Because,” I say, kissin' her on the lips again, “you're the girl of my dreams.”