Seventeen
After a day of shopping with Savior, I finally make my way back to Inglewood. He wanted me to spend the night with him, and the offer was tempting, but I told him I need to go home and check on everything. While Junie and Tasha went home by themselves, they also had to potentially fend off any nosy whispers and gossip.
I know Junie wouldn’t indulge but Tasha…I never can tell. I don’t think she’ll sell me out to the highest bidder but I also know if she needs some new hair, she wouldn’t hesitate to let the Shade Room know what my sleeping position is at night.
I park my car and head inside. I left all of my purchases at Savior’s home because I couldn’t see the point of bringing an expensive gown with me, only to transport it back to Bel-Air.
Arriving in Inglewood, it’s already a noticeable difference. Bel-Air is quiet, like no neighbor wants to disturb the other. Everyone is so closed in, you could barely hear the cars going down the shared streets. There’s no snooping or peeping into someone’s home, because everyone’s home is gated with ten-foot tall walls.
In Inglewood, one can hear loud music, loud talking, and laughter almost on every other corner. Of course, the opposite is also true – loud fighting, the gunshots, and screeching tires.
It’s a weird, indescribable feeling – I felt free in Bel-Air but I felt at home in Inglewood. But I know I can’t have both, nor would I want both. I have to make a choice. Savior might come to spend the night with me occasionally in Inglewood, but he’s made it clear he won’t live here when he has his own home.
I’m dying to leave Inglewood, but I’m afraid of showing up as a regular resident of Bel-Air. How long will it be before someone mistakes me for someone or something else, and the police are called on me? How long will it be before I’m followed until they realize I live there?
How long will it be before I’m quietly forced out because they do not want me there no matter who my boyfriend is?
I can’t worry about any of that. I’m exhausted and I need a nap. As I make my way back to my room, I dream of Savior and crave his touch on me again. It’ll be a long 24 hours not seeing him, but I know it’ll be worth it. I miss him already.
~~~~~
It’s already nighttime when I finally wake up. I slept until eight and I’m wide awake now. I stretch my arms and try to gather my bearings as I figure out what I’m going to eat for dinner and maybe check out a Netflix movie to kill the time.
As I make my way out of the bedroom, I see the living room lights are on. Clearly, Tasha and Junie are home. I head to the bathroom and once I’m finished with my business, I go out into the living room. I’m floored to see dozens upon dozens of roses everywhere. My heart warms because Savior is unbelievably romantic. Each time I think he’ll do one thing, he tops it again.
I love me some him.
Love? Okay. Maybe not love. It’s too soon for love. I can admit I like ol’ dude. I can admit I’m falling for him. But love him? Nah. You don’t fall in love with someone after a week. It just doesn’t happen.
“Hey,” Tasha blows out a plume of smoke and offers me a hit. I respectfully decline. I don’t know how this girl stays high and functioning all of the time. Getting high must be an Olympic sport. “Those came in for you.”
“Really?” I look around for a card and don’t see one. “Was there a card?”
“Oh yeah,” Tasha grabs it from the couch where she’s sitting, “here you go.”
I snatch the card away from her and shake my head. Leave it to Tasha to get herself involved in some shit that really has nothing to do with her. I need to get that bitch a hobby or something. “You’re so damn messy.”
“You love me anyway.” She blows a kiss.
“Sometimes.” I open the card and my eyes are trying so hard not to roll back. Savior didn’t send me any of these roses; Jalen did.
A fuckboy who told me he wasn’t going to settle down, and that I’m in his Top Five (of women, not music or anything else important), and how he said some pretty awful things about my association with Savior, just sent me about four dozen roses.I miss you, baby,the card reads.
I would call up Jalen and tell him how I really feel but I conveniently erased his phone number. Whoopsie. “Why did this Negro do this?”
“He heard about the fight with Andrea.” Junie chimes in. “The whole neighborhood has been talking about it for the past day. People wish there was video.”
I’m so confused and Tasha’s explanation doesn’t help. “So, he sent me flowers because…?”
“Word around the street was Jalen is the one who sold King J the drugs. King J is still locked up but word is he’s singing like a canary. If he rats out Jalen, it’s game over for him.”
“So, he’s hoping if he starts showing me affection again, I’ll somehow protect him because of my daddy?” Men are so damn transparent, it’s ridiculous. “No, thank you. He has a harem of women he can go to.”
“But you got that juice,” SoundCloud nods. “You’re the one that can help him.”
“Which is the reason why he got with me to begin with.” The sad realization has always been there. Nothing like the feeling of discovering a nigga used me because of who my father is. Jalen never has and never will care about me the same way I did for him. I wonder if Savior felt the same with his dates.
The anger is starting to bubble a little and I blow out a harsh breath. Things can only get worse before they get better. “What else is new?”
