I've been studying the manual Jessica gave me for weeks now, and I'm starting to feel ready for this interview. Been working here for a year already - I need more money and responsibility. I've been dreaming about a new car for the longest - and my apartment's finally looking like a home. I moved out of my foster parent's house as soon as I got enough dough - I appreciated the space to lay my head, but I'll never go back to that place. I had no life; all us foster kids did was rob and steal to get by; our government alotted money spent on new clothes and cars for our "parents." Never going back. I've got a new life - a life that I control - that I created. Nobody's going to change that.
I never knew my real parents. All I know is that my father was from Panama, and my mother was from Haiti. I don't know how or where I was born, I just know I'm here. If you ask, though - I was born in Tokyo when my father was stationed there in 1985. I am a Japanese citizen; I even memorized a few phrases. The life I created. Something about the stories I tell make me feel good, I mean, they could be true - how would we know?
Maya comes over and asks me to help a wheelchair customer. She walks away, and her hair brushes against my face. She always smells, looks, speaks - so pretty! How can one person do everything so right? Her life must be perfect. I want to trade with her so bad. If i could spend a minute in her shoes, I know my life would be better. The way she speaks is so put together, her clothes are so stylish and unique - I wonder if she ever has a bad day. Maya just looks so - happy. I long for that feeling. And I'm gonna get it -by any means necessary.
I woke up with the sharpest pain in my stomach. I slip out of bed, gently, so I don't wake Brent - and head to the bathroom. Quickly, I check for my period. Nothing. It's been three months since my last cycle, and I'm starting to worry. I keep telling myself to relax and it will come - but there's so many things going on. I know I'm not pregnant, so a test would just be a waste of money and electrolytes. As I pull up my panties and wash my hands, I reach for my phone to check the time. I'm startled by a bang on the door, and my iPhone slips into the sink.
"What the hell you doin' in there, Jessica?"
"I'm using the toilet, you need the bathroom?"
I stepped out the bathroom, wiping my wet hands on my jeans so I wouldn't wet my phone.
"You in there calling some guy, ain't you."
"What? Of course not! I just wanted to check my period and mark it on my iCalendar."
Hi southern drawl was what lured me in when we met - but now he just sounds like an ignorant redneck. I can't understand where he gets these ideas from when he's under me twenty-four seven. I've got to stay calm, and hope he'll do the same.
"You lyin'. I know you was in there talkin' to someone. Why you gotta be like that, Jess?"
I slide past him and walk into the bedroom. Time to get dressed for work.
"Now you know I'm not talking to anyone else, honey. You're just - paranoid."
As I lean down to get my pants on - I feel a hand and Brent's firm grip on my face.
"You tryna say I'm crazy, huh? And where you think you're going?"
I tell him I'm leaving for work, but he protests. Tells me to prove there's nobody else. Instead of me pulling my pants on - I am being shoved onto the bed - and Brent is slamming himself on top of me. The rest - I'd like to forget.
I unhook his fingers from around my throat as he sleeps, shower and quickly dress for work. Limping out the door - I spot his handprint on my neck - I'll fix that in the car. I'm so tired of this.
As I sit in the driver's seat, a wave of nausea comes over me, and I heave onto the pavement. This can't be happening. I fix my face and head to work. I can tell this is going to be a long day. I clock in, and see Alena trying to fluff her hair in the hallway mirror. There's an afro pic in her back pocket - but that girl's hair is long and wavy. I walk past and wish her luck. Something is definitely off with that girl. I love her dedication, though - and that's why I accepted her request to train for supervisor. I think with some fine tuning, her quirkiness could make her an excellent manager. I see a little bit of Maya in her sometimes; ambitious and goal oriented. She's got a great life story, too - that can motivate anyone.
I feel sick again - and rush past everyone to the executive lavatory. I wash my face afterwards and do a "spot check" on my neck. A little green - but no one will notice. I've got to get over this stomach virus, though. Yeah, that's what it is...
As I walk to my car from campus, I get a text from Yvette.
"Don't forget about me. Registration starts tomorrow. Have a good day!"
Seeing her message makes me hear her voice. It's crazy how she's helping me with this school deal. And I wonder - what does she want with a guy like me? She says she sees potential, but there's plenty of other kids out there with just as much talent - more, even. Is she attracted to me? I mean, I see the way she glances at me, the way she touches my arm when she laughs at jokes I make. I thought it was all a part of the recruitment game. Now, I'm seeing it another way. She never talks about her husband, any mention of him is about what country he's in at the moment. How can he leave her alone so much? No wonder she checks me out - she's lonely. What would she do with such a young guy? I can only imagine. I'll call her in the morning and let her know my decision. The ride from the Bronx is easy on the train; I could leave my car at home til winter. Partial scholarship beats all the financial aid I'm using right now. Everything's so enticing - why should I say no? Studying law has been one of my biggest dreams, now I can pursue it and make music happen. Shoot - I should call her now...
I get home and pour myself a drink to unwind. I bust my ass this week - finally got a weekend off. Gotta call my boys and hit the clu tonight - because from here on out, it's strictly business. I hop into the shower, spray on some cologne, and throw on something fresh. The club's full of tens - but none that really catch my eye. I grind on a few cuties and then situate myself at the bar. My boys are out there getting numbers by the dozen. I have to chuckle when I see Chris propose to one of the big booty girls - he's a character. I look around one last time for a chick I could holler at - one girl winks at me from across the bar. I smile, and she makes her way over to me. We dance for a few songs, and it was cool - until Uncle Luke's "Doo Doo Brown" starts playing. Baby girl hit the floor like she forgot about her dress, and broke into a split like a gymnast. She turned around to smile at me, but I was already walking away. Classless, just like I thought, these girls weren't doing it for me - so I told my people goodbye as soon as a slow song hit.
Three a.m. and I'm showered, laying in bed, while my homeys party it up. I grab my phone and maybe it's the liquor - but I text Yvette.
"So, if my answer's yes - can I make you dinner tomorrow?"
I lay back down, and hours pass with no response. Guess her husband must be back. I doze off, thinking about her. Dreams of new music and riches dance through my mind. Eight a.m. and the buzz of my phone shakes me awake.
Quickly, I snatch it up to check the alarm - a little envelope blinks on my screen. A text.
"Dinner sounds wonderful. I'll bring drinks."
My god. Drinks. Exhale.
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