“Oh good. I’ll be gone before you start. I would die if you sub at my school.”
“You taking classes online?” I ask.
“No. I want the whole experience. I got my GED so I missed the classroom,” she says. She got pregnant with me in the eleventh grade. Her parents put her out and disowned her. She struggled and never went back to school. She earned her GED at home once I was around two. “I’m taking two classes in the Summer B term on campus. They are math and English pre-requisites courses. I have to pass them with Cs then I’ll be in regular classes in August,” she says, smiling from ear to ear. The sound of a door slamming causes the entire room to still. My moms jumps up before I can. “I got it. I got it,” she utters as she rushes out of the room in a panic.
When I stand, Quay jumps up and throws her arms around me. “He’s going to go back outside. Please, Riq. Don’t go in there,” she pleads.
We all know who slammed the damn door. That nigga just walked into the house he isn’t allowed in when I’m here. He knows this shit; it’s nothing new. Him coming in is on purpose, a jab at me and I’m thirty-eight hot.
“Desmond!” I hear my mom scream, and before I can remove Quay’s arms from around me, he storms into the dining room. My mom is right behind him. “Desmond! Go back outside,” she yells.
He stops dead in his tracks but doesn’t say shit. He just glares at me then starts shaking his head. I glare back and Quay’s arms clasp around me as if her lil ass can actually hold me back.
“I’m here, super…star. You spent your money to buy this shit and I’m here. You think you run things. The hot shot basketball player. Ha! You don’t run shit. Not here. Not in my muthafucking house,” he rambles, talking cash shit like he always does. He reaches behind him and latches his arm around my mom. After pulling her into his side, he kisses the top of her head. “This is mine too. My wife and she wants me here so I’m going to be the fuck right here when I want. Prime time, all-star baller, my ass,” he huffs then chuckles.
His bullshit and down talking on me is nothing new. Out of respect for my moms, I’ve taken his shit for years. Whenever I accomplished anything with the ball, he always had some negative, slick shit to say. Hate from your parents is some foul ass shit and it knocks the wind out of me just to feel that shit.
The first time I became the victim of his venom was when I was seven. Not only did he miss my first game but when I came home with my medal, he snatched it off my neck and threw itto the floor. His words fucked with me heavy. I still remember them.“Nigga, that ain’t shit. I ain’t shit and you ain’t never gon’ be shit either.”
I must have played over a thousand games over the years and he intentionally did not attend one of them. He even tried to keep my momma, then Quay in later years, from going too. He did, however, make sure he was in my face after them, talking shit and putting me down. According to him, I’m just lucky. I have no talent. I’ve never been up against any real ballers and shit has been handed to me. My hard work and dedication don’t exist. The shit is crazy too because I still don’t know why the nigga can’t support me. I’m his seed but it’s cool. I gave up trying to figure him out years ago and I just bottled that shit up, swallowed it, and turned it into straight motivation to prove him wrong as fuck.
“I’m not gon’ let you disrespect me today,” I warn.
“What the fuck you gon’ do?” he taunts.
“You need to go back outside, old man,” I grit.
“Nah, superstar. I’m good right here. My wife cooked and I’m hungry,” he grits back, then steps forward.
I step forward too, ready to square up if needed. This nigga put his hands on me one time when I was fifteen. I had him by height but that’s all. As a grown ass man, he naturally put me down but I didn’t go down without a fucking fight. I stalled on his bitch ass twice. That was then and this is muthafucking now. If he’s G enough to try me, I’ll knock his old ass out.
“Des, baby! Please, go outside. I’ll bring you and Rod some food. Just go, baby. Please,” my mom pleads as she moves in front of him.
“Nah. I’m eating right here, Tish. I’m sick of bowing down to this lil nigga. This is my wife, my house,” he says, his words getting louder as he speaks. His last words strike a nerve.
“Nigga, this my momma house!” I bark back. “This lil nigga, yeah me, I bought it for her. Not your bitch ass,” I spit. In a flash, he pushes my moms to the side and he’s in my face. Enraged, I peel Quay’s arm off of me. He and I are chest to chest. He’s breathing so damn hard I can smell the beer on his breath. As a warning, I press my chest into his hard as fuck. “Fall back!”
“Riq! No!” my mom yells.
She’s behind me and I didn’t even see her come over here. This time, her arms fly around my waist and she holds onto me tight as hell. I inch forward and drag her with me. She’s not letting go. Seizing the opportunity, in a pure bitch ass move, he bumps my chest then leans back and tries to swing on me. His hand comes up and I block that shit. I grab his wrist instead, bend his fucking arm back, forcing his body to turn. I pull him back into my chest then yoke him with my other arm.
Quay and my moms scream out at the same time. My mom’s words are inaudible; I can only hear wails. Quay is clearly screaming my name at the top of her lungs. Somehow, my mom is still latched onto me. Her sobbing, pleading, and tears wetting the back of my shirt are the only things keeping me from cracking this nigga’s shit.
“When I’m here, nigga, you don’t be. I’m not that little ass boy anymore. The next time you step to me, Imma forget that my momma loves you. Real shit,” I grit before releasing him.
Both my mom and Quay sigh heavily, relieved, and he starts coughing like I was really choking his ass. My mom rushes over to him and drapes her arm around his back. Quay rushes tome and hugs me. As she cries, I try to soothe her by caressing her but I’m probably failing.
I’m heated. My damn chest is heaving and my palms are itching to hit this nigga. It pisses me off even more as I watch my mom console him. He doesn’t deserve her at all. Before I go back on my own words, I drop my arms from Quay, then gently grab her arms.
Looking down into her eyes, I tell her, “I gotta leave before this gets worse.” She nods then wipes the tears from her face. Seeing her cry just adds another layer to my anger. That nigga provoked me and I let him. Now my moms and baby sis are crying because of my actions.
I definitely gotta dip before I crash the fuck out.
“Okay.” She nods.
Before releasing her, I kiss her cheek then walk off. When I pass my moms and him, I keep my eyes forward, because if I glance his way and see his eyes, Imma pop him in both of them. My mom calls out to me, crying.
“Riq,” she cries.
