I flip her coffee table away from us, just because I can. Because it feels good, and I paid for it anyway.
Sahara’s all the way at the window, trying to become one with it. Tears spill over those ocean eyes of hers, but I don’t feel shit but the anger and despair that I’ve become familiar with. I latch onto it. It’s better than the emptiness that occupies me any other time.
“I wasn’t saying–”
“You was, sweetheart. But I’m not you. I can’t block out the fact that my peoples are gone. And having a baby not gone make me feel better.”
“You won’t even try!” she cries out. “You have kept me at arm’s distance for seven years, Rahshad! Seven years!”
I just shake my head.What a waste.
“Don’t call me, bro.” I back out of her apartment and wait until I get into my whip to let the floodgates blow.
Countless memories of my baby sister assault me. Me holding her in the hospital. Me trying to get her to walk. Her at my high school graduation. Me at her kindergarten one. She was my biggest cheerleader, and I was her superhero.
She had so much life ahead of her. She should be here.We should be together.
I pull over to the side of the road and put my car in park. My eyeballs haven’t stopped sweating, but that’s how I get. A nigga has always had big feelings, and usually, letting it all go helps, but not now. Not for a while, if I’m being honest.
I fumble with the glove compartment and take out two things. The paperwork I was going to file to get full permanent custody of Raya, signed and ready to go. It was nothing to get a judge to sign off, not when they saw my OG’s rap sheet and my resources.
The other is a full pill bottle.
How I got it when Raya couldn’t even get her own medicine is a testament to this fucked up system. Money always talks, but my OG, she was so adamant on not relying on me, of hating every fiber of my being, she wouldn’t accept shit, and now look.
“I’m so sorry, Raya,” I whisper, eyeing the pill bottle. I got some Hennessy in my car… I could take this shit, park at a view and watch the sunset. Be with my sister before midnight. Ain’t nothing here for me anyway.
Set will be aight. He went thirteen years without me before I popped up and was fine. The guys and Brina got him.
Maybe he’ll understand foreal. Maybe he’ll get that I just wanna be with my sister.
I go to open the pill bottle when my phone starts vibrating.
Call from: Set.
I sigh. Should I even answer? I stare at my dashboard, waiting for the name to go off.
It does, and I open the pill bottle. I don’t want him being the last person I talk to. That may fuck him up.
But when he calls again, I groan and answer. He never calls twice.
“Wassup?” I mutter.
“Shad. You good?”
I put the pill bottle down at the urgency of his voice and look around to make sure he not here. Nigga sounds like he just ran a marathon. Like he knows the thoughts that won’t quiet in my mind.
“What’s wrong?”
He blows air into the phone. “I had the craziest dream about you. Shit woke me up from my nap and all… you busy?”
I glance at the shit in the front seat before shaking my head. “Nah. Not really.”
“Come to the crib. I’ll even let you bust my ass on the game.”
“Nigga, you don’t be letting me win,” I chuckle.
“You right ‘cause yo ass be cheating. C’mon. I made Tiny’s jambalaya, extra spicy too so Brina can sneeze out my kids.”
