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Niya Page 11
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“Fuck you, Niya.”
When she said that, I was reaching for the book bag I always kept with me. I stopped midway and just looked at her. After that, I sat back in my chair and picked up my bottle of Cîroc. I drank from the bottle as I thought about her words.
“You know what, Smiley? Let that be the last time you ever say ‘Fuck you’ to me. Understand?” I spoke to her without even looking at her. I could feel the heat in my cheeks, which let me know that I was turning red. My anger always showed on my face, and if she was wise, she would take it as a warning.
“Niya, look at me.” She waited for me to do as she asked before continuing. “Niya . . . fuck you! You think that I don’t know what’s going on between you and Jamilla? You are in love with that girl as you string me along, and as for her, she never gives a shit about you until I show you some attention. She—”
I had had enough. I jumped out of my chair, and before I knew it, I had her against my bedroom door, with my hand around her neck. “Didn’t I tell you not to say those words to me?”
“Oh, so you gonna act like that’s what you’re mad at? Nah, you’re mad because I pulled your card about that bitch.”
I was so close to her face that I could feel her breath. I wanted to slap her, but I knew that it would be out of line. “What? You think that you’re in a better position? You aren’t all that you’re cracked up to be. I caught that shit with my mother. I saw your face, I heard what you said, and that shit ain’t cool with me.”
I watched as Smiley’s face twisted with confusion. I let her go, turned my back on her, and went back to my seat.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Your mom was covered in shit. What did you want me to do?”
I sat and listened to her for the next five minutes, as she went on and on about why she left that morning my mother came over. But nothing she said would change the facts.
“Look, at the end of the day, you’re just not a bitch that I can count on. Plus, what the fuck are we doing? You thought Jamilla was cool before we fucked. When in the hell did this turn into a relationship? I’m not looking for a girlfriend, Smiley. We fuck around, and that’s cool, but you ain’t my girl, feel me?”
I knew right away that she was hurt, but hell, so was I. I was hurt and had been hiding it. The fact that she left that morning had never sat right with me.
“Who the fuck are you, Niya? You jump in my face, you choke me, and you tell me that this is not a relationship? I mean, come on. This is not the Niya I know.”
I started to laugh. Not because she was funny, but to be mean. “Since when did you ever fucking know me? We fuck, and all of the sudden, you think you know me? If you knew me, you would have never left that morning. Jamilla didn’t.”
Jamilla’s name had hardly left my mouth before I found myself ducking to avoid getting hit in the head with one of my own shoes.
“I am so fucking sick of hearing her name. That’s what this is all about. You are fucking right, Niya. We could never be together. You’re so far up that bitch’s ass, and the funny thing is, you will never have her the way you want her. She will never be yours.”
“It’s a good thing you don’t have to worry about it, huh? You know, being that we are not in a fucking relationship.”
This time, it was her turn to laugh.
“I am not even going to leave here upset, and do you know why? It’s because this right here, the way you love her, that will be your punishment. I am going to sleep well knowing that while you’re eating yourself up over that bitch, she will never love your ass the same way. Fuck you very much, Niya, and, uh, remember that I was nice enough to warn you.”
I was back on my feet. I grabbed a handful of her hair and used it to walk her to my front door.
“Get the fuck out, you fat bitch. You should have been thankful that I was with your ass,” I snarled.
Again, I hated my choice of words, but I was pissed. For a brief second, we locked eyes, and I saw it. I saw all that we used to be, all that she used to be, and all that we had lost because of our poor choice of words. I knew that I would miss her as I watched her tears drop, but my drunken pride wouldn’t let me say... “I’m sorry.”
* * *
I went back to my bedroom and picked up my phone. Fuck. Nothing back from Jamilla. Smiley’s words coasted around in my head as thoughts of Jamilla fought to take their place. I needed to get out of the house. I picked up my bottle and phone and headed out. The streets of Brooklyn always seemed to give me refuge from my dark moods and thoughts. While I walked without a destination, the last person I thought I would run into was Rodney.
There we were, on the very same street that he had outed me on, and for the first time, I didn’t turn the other way when I saw him.
“I really need to talk to you, Niya.”
“What the fuck do you want?”
The things Smiley said had really started to mess with my head. I knew that Jamilla loved me as a friend and even more. She was just afraid to face the truth. No straight girl would ever act the way she did; no straight girl would let me touch her the way she did. I had continued to walk, and Rodney was right beside me.
“Please, Niya, I need to talk to you.”
At first, I just wanted to tell him to fuck off, but that night, I needed someone, even if it was someone who I felt couldn’t be trusted. I told him to walk with me. We ended up at the basketball court. I passed him my bottle as I rolled up and waited for him to speak.
“Niya, um, I don’t know where to start. Um, what I did was so fucked up. See, Roxie—”
“Yeah, I know all about Roxie. I know what she told you.”
He looked a little shocked but continued. “Not that it’s a good excuse, but . . .”
I waited, without saying a word. I didn’t care how long it was going to take. I wanted to hear what he had to say.
“I had a thing for you. Like, I was really in love with you.”
He stopped, waited for me to say something, but I offered him nothing. I was uncomfortable with the conversation and didn’t have much to say.
“Look, fuck everything else. The most important thing is that I am sorry. What I did was fucked up, and I miss you, Niya. I miss my friend.”
I looked at Rodney, and as much as I wanted to hate him, the truth was, I missed him too. We had always been together, and his company was missed.
For a while, we just sat together and smoked and drank. No words were needed. I was trying to decide if I could ever trust Rodney again. I wanted him back in my life, but I didn’t want the hurt that he had caused me that night.
I finally spoke. “Man, as I sit here, I am fighting with myself. What you did fucked me up, Rodney. Do you know what it was like for me to stand there as the only person I had even let in outed me? I trusted you with my life. We ate together, we fucked bitches together, we even did our dirt together, and boom, you fucking took a knife and damn near tried to kill me with it.”
“Niya, I wasn’t thinking. I was so mad that night, and truth be told, a nigga was hurt. I should have stopped and thought about it, but I acted off of emotions.”
“Man, fuck your emotions. I went home and came out to my granny, man. I felt as if I had no choice, as if you had given me no choice. Do you know that shit could have turned out real ugly for me? Did you think that maybe someone wouldn’t be too happy hearing that I’m a dyke? What if someone had tried to hurt me because you chose to pull me out of the closet?”
“Come on, Niya. It wasn’t like you tried to hide it. I questioned it. I just wouldn’t let myself believe the truth. I mean . . . look at you.”
“Get the fuck out of here with that shit. What you did wasn’t right. I don’t give a fuck how gay I look. It wasn’t your information to give. I should have been able to face my truth when I wanted to, not when you thought it was right.”
My words were met with silence. Yes, I was still angry, and most of all, I was still hurt.
A few moments passed before Rodney b
roke the silence. “Niya. I am just asking for a second chance. I fucked up, but let me make it right.”
For a while after that, we just sat, smoked, and drank. Thoughts of that night still sent painful chills through my body. I asked myself if I could really forgive him, and the answer was I really didn’t know, but something in me told me to try.
* * *
“I’m telling you, Niya, we can do some things on that Mac. People are making a lot of music on computers. Plus, you really have to start using social media,” Rodney boasted with total excitement in his voice.
We were once again having a conversation about me rapping. It was the night before my first day on campus, and nightfall found us on the block, nursing another bottle. It seemed as if everyone around me was pushing me to do it—well, the people who knew about it.
“What if I put that shit out and get clowned? I don’t know, man. Not really sure that I’m ready yet.”
Rodney sucked his teeth and tried to get me to see things his way. “If you are waiting to be ‘ready,’ you never will be. Just say ‘Fuck it,’ and jump. You may land on your knees or you may land on your feet. Imagine—”
“But what if—”
“What if nothing, Niya. Imagine landing on your feet, and you take off running. You may be the first of your kind to really make it. Picture that shit. A real bitch spittin’ some real shit. Just jump, and you know me and Milla are going to jump with you. I have a rack of beats that’s sitting there ready. My brother got a nice camera. We can even film the video on. Just jump.”
I sat there, sipping on the dark liquor, as he spoke. All my life all I had ever wanted to do was rap, but it was just a dream. I had never really thought of pursuing it as a career. But as I listen to Rodney and remembered my conversation with Jamilla, I felt like I could really do something, like it could be more than a dream.
“Just jump, Niya. Just jump.”
I looked at Rodney and decided that he and Jamilla couldn’t both be wrong. I had to try.
“Meet me here around four tomorrow. Your beats better be fire,” I told him.
Chapter 35
Jamilla
I never did tell Niya about what happened with my mother. I was too afraid that she would go after her like she did my stepdad. We had moved into our new apartment, and I stayed out of everyone’s way. I didn’t see much of Niya in the days that passed, but through texting, I found out that she was hanging out with Rodney. I thought that it was a good thing. They were good friends, and forgiveness was the best way to get over something. I missed her so much, but my own misery was keeping me from her. I just wanted to spend time alone in my room. I felt dirty, and I just didn’t want her to see me.
I hardly slept the night before school started. Niya and I were going to ride together, and I was a bit nervous. I was always nervous when it came to school, and now I was going to be a freshman all over again. In high school, the kids had always seemed to make me feel inferior. They had all seemed so happy with their big clique of friends, and the truth was, I had wanted to be them. I was happy that I would be going to campus with my new friend, though. I was going to pull up on campus with one of the most popular girls in Brooklyn, and I wanted to see how my life would change because of it.
“You look beautiful,” Niya said when I met her in the lobby of our building the next morning. “I’ve been missing you, boo. Fuck this ‘not seeing you’ shit. I never even got a chance to tell you about what happened with me and Smiley.”
Damn. Looking at her, I realized again that I had missed her too. As I listened to what went down between her and Smiley, I couldn’t help but be in shock.
“So, she really felt as if I was getting between you and her?” I asked.
How could I have been in competition with Smiley when Niya and I weren’t even like that?
“Jamilla, truth is, she wasn’t lying. I know that you say constantly that you’re straight, but that still doesn’t make me love you any less. I know that you feel it, ’cause I am doing nothing to hide it. And at times, when it’s just me and you, I feel that shit, and I know you feel it too. I can see it in your eyes.”
My mind tried to catch up with my emotions. What was I supposed to do with the things Niya had just said to me? If she were a guy, I would have been hers already, but she wasn’t, and that put a wrench in everything.
She went on to tell me about her and Rodney, and how he had told her that he was in love with her. I couldn’t help but get a little jealous.
“So the whole time you were friends with him, he liked you?” I asked her.
“Well, damn. Don’t be so shocked. I am a beautiful bitch,” Niya joked.
We climbed in her car, and as we rode to school, I listened in silence to her tales of her time with Rodney. I truly was happy that she had gotten her friend back, but I couldn’t help but question if their friendship would leave me in the dust. I knew that what I had with Niya was rare. And I would do anything to hold on to it.
* * *
When we pulled up to Kingsborough, all eyes were on us. Niya seemed totally comfortable with the attention, but it was all new to me. Some people whispered, while others just stared, but I noticed them all. Niya told me that a lot of the people we went to high school with were also attending the same college, so she probably felt right at home. We got out of the car, and Niya walked over to my side of the car and took my hand, as she always did when we hung out.
“Come on, Milla boo,” she said as she threw her arm around my neck.
I had mixed emotions. I was excited that finally, I was no longer invisible at school. People would walk up to Niya and have short conversations, and she introduced me to each and every one. I had never noticed how popular she was as a high school senior the year before. But even the older kids on campus who hadn’t gone to school with us knew who she was. I was enjoying the attention until Marlo, a girl whom I had always hated, came up to us with her little crew of followers. She was a tall brown-skinned girl who looked like a model. Everything on her face was sharp, as if she was bred from Zulu warriors. Her clothes were always tight and short and hugged her curvaceous body. She was so beautiful that looking at her was almost painful—painful because as soon as you saw her, she would make the average girl insecure. I watched her sweep her long weave off of her shoulders before she spoke.
“Hey, Niya. Is this your new girlfriend?”
Instantly, I pulled away from Niya, who happened to look a bit shocked.
“Girlfriend? What would make you think that?” Niya asked.
“I’m not gay,” I announced. My words had come out louder than I’d wanted them to. Honestly, I was just as shocked as Niya looked.
“Oh, wait. I thought I heard that you came out. Oh, shit. My bad,” Marlo said.
I waited for Niya to speak up. I was so embarrassed. I needed her to speak up and let Marlo know that I was not gay. Niya gave me a weird look before addressing Marlo.
“Nah. I mean, yeah, I’m gay, but Jamilla and I . . .”
“Marlo, I am not gay,” I said.
I wished that I had just kept my mouth shut. The look on Niya’s face told me that what I had just said hurt her. I wasn’t sure if it was the words themselves or the fact that I was so adamant about letting everyone know that I wasn’t one of them, one of what she was, a lesbian.
Marlo shrugged. “It’s cool. I just thought... Well, it doesn’t matter. You’re looking good, though. I am happy to see that you have stepped your game up. Those jeans are cute as hell, Jamilla. See you around, Niya.”
I watched Marlo walk away, just so I wouldn’t have to face Niya, but soon I had to turn to her. I felt like shit instantly. She looked so hurt.
“Niya, I am—”
“Nah, don’t worry about it. I am gonna head to class. See you at lunch?”
She didn’t even wait for my answer. I watched her walk away and prayed that she would forgive me.
* * *
I was in my third class of the day when I g
ot up to go to the bathroom. Niya had been on my mind all day. My life had changed because of her. As I thought about our summer, mixed emotions consumed me. I thought about our friendship, and then I thought about the things that had taken us way beyond that. Like my night with Smiley and her, or that morning in her bathroom. As I thought of those moments, I had to cross my legs. She had made me feel so good, but that was only my body. When I let my thoughts in, the way I felt, I decided that her touching me was wrong. To me, I was just a lonely girl who was letting a void be filled momentarily by a woman. I wasn’t really a lesbian, but a lesbian was all I really had. The fact that she was gay somehow made me confused about my feelings for her. I had never felt that way before about a straight girl. Ugh. That shit was making my head hurt.
I sat in the bathroom for a short while, hoping to get my thoughts together. When Marlo came in as I washed my hands, I tried to wish her away.
“Hey, Jamilla. Where’s your girlfriend?”
I ignored her.
“Girl, you have got to relax. I’m just fuckin’ with you. I really do like your outfit, though.”
Her compliment made me smile. The thought of a very stylish girl like her liking what I had on . . . I could only dream of a moment like that before that day.
“Niya got it for me. She—” I stopped once I noticed the smile that had crept across Marlo’s face.
“I knew it. Let me find out you go that way.”
“No, really, I don’t. She’s just my best friend. We really got close this summer.” I had already said way more than I had wanted to, but she had to know that I was not gay.
“Girl, chill the fuck out. This isn’t high school anymore. Don’t nobody care if you are. It’s the in thing now. Haven’t you heard? I mean, I ain’t never been with a girl, but Niya is cute as shit. If I were ever to try it, she would be the one.”
I took a minute to look Marlo over. From what I could tell, she was being honest. “What do you mean if you were ever to try it? Have you ever thought about it?” I just had to know.
Marlo turned from me with a smile. She reached into her pocket, took out her lipstick, and spoke as she reapplied it. “Girl, I mean, I can’t say that I have spent too much time thinking about it, but . . . a bitch like Niya. . . she could get it.”