Niya Read online

  I went into the living room, turned on the radio that was on the side table, and lit up. I took a few swigs from my bottle and put pen to paper.

  I wish I had you the way I have chosen to remember you, the pretty you, the sweet you, the good you, the clean you.

  I wish you would love me the way that I love you, the way that we love you. I wish you would love yourself too.

  I wish that you had never met him, the man whom I call my father. See, he was stronger than you, and he started you on that shit and left you on that shit all by yourself, and it destroyed you. He switched lanes, got off that road to hell, while you went full throttle, diving deep into the underworld.

  Maybe that would mean that I wouldn’t be here, but to me, that would be better than this. I wish, man . . . I really wish that I just wasn’t this hurt. I am damaged now, filled with loneliness, enduring a void that will never be filled, even with the world around me. It will never be filled by the blunt in my hand or by the bottom of my beloved liquor bottle.

  I’m damaged because I am afraid that I will never fully love, only because the love that was never taught to me is something that can’t be bought. See, a mother’s love is like no other love. Now, ain’t that too bad for me? Because a mother’s love . . . is something I never had, so I’ll just have to go on as if it was never meant to be.

  I wish that you were just as thankful for her as I am for her. Without her, I wouldn’t be, because without her there would be no saving me. She raised your child as you let the streets raise you. Well, now we are both grown, you as a full-blown addict and me as a full-grown motherless child. A child forever youthful in the land of wishes that will never be.

  See, Ma, I wish, I wish, I wish, even as you continue to be a nightmare that I can’t escape from, because you hold the key to my loveless destiny. Unlock me, Ma. That’s my only hope of saving myself!

  Chapter 27

  Jamilla

  I was still in the shower when I called out for Niya. When she came in the bathroom, I asked her to bring me a towel and some clean clothes. The shower felt good, as if I was washing the day’s events off of me. I wasn’t sure how I was going to comfort Niya, but I knew that she was counting on me. I rinsed off my body after soaping up three different times and pulled the shower curtain back.

  “Oh shit. I didn’t know you were still in here,” I said.

  Niya stood leaning against the bathroom door, smoking. She seemed lost in thought as she stood and stared.

  “May I have the towel please?”

  It took her a few seconds to answer, and when she did, her reply was low and demanding. “Come and get it.”

  My heart started to race. I knew she wasn’t in the right frame of mind. “Niya, come on. Stop playing.”

  I waited for her to hand me the towel, but she didn’t budge. The smirk on her face told me that if I wanted the towel, I would have to step out of the tub and get it. I tried to hold on to the shower curtain, but it was not long enough. Soon I was standing in front of her naked. As I reached for the towel, she reached for me.

  Her grip was tight. Her hands moved fast. They were all over me as her lips graced my neck. She lightly bit into me before making me weak with her tongue. My neck was my spot, and she toyed with it as if she knew this.

  “Niya, what are you . . . doing?”

  There were a few moments that left me speechless, and for those very brief moments, I didn’t fight her. That wouldn’t last too long, though. I would come back to my senses and try to fight off her roaming hands.

  “Niya . . . come on . . . please.”

  As I pleaded with her, she covered my mouth with hers. She pushed me against the sink, and after wrapping her arms and hands around the back of each of my thighs, she lifted me up and sat me on her sink. I couldn’t lie. What she was doing felt good, an escape from the morning’s terror, but I just couldn’t let it happen. I pushed her away, and that made her stop kissing me.

  “We can’t do this.”

  “Why not?” she asked as she got close to me again. This time, her wet lips met my nipple, and that caused me to moan out loud, giving her false hope. I tried to fight both my body and her.

  “Niya, I am not gay. I told you this before.”

  She looked up at me and smiled. My breasts bounced with each short breath that I took.

  “Oh yeah? Let’s see.”

  I wasn’t sure what that meant, but when she ran her hands up my thighs and found her way between my legs, the lightbulb was lit. I sat there, in a battle with my mind and body. It was as if everything had slowed down. I watched her fingers slide off of my thigh and land on my sweet spot. Her thumb met my clit as her middle finger slipped inside of me. I was not sure how long I watched and moaned, but when I managed to look away from her hand and up to her eyes, I had to stop. With my body screaming for more of what she was doing, I pushed her away.

  “I don’t want this,” was all that I offered her. I could barely look at her. The thought of what she had just done to me made me feel shameful. Not because of the act, but because of how much I had liked it.

  “Why can’t we just fuck?”

  Her question shocked me. I knew that Niya wanted to make love to me, but a fuck? We were both worth way more than just a fuck. I hopped off the counter and snatched the towel off the hook on which she had placed it.

  “When are we going to fuck? Never!” I was so damn mad at that point that I could have slapped her.

  “Oh, so you’re okay with a finger pop, but when it comes down to really fucking, you just can’t get with that gay shit, huh?”

  I turned from her, hoping that the absence of her face would calm me down. “Niya, I am going to ignore you, because I know why you are acting like this. I know that what went down this morning is really fucking with you right now, so you get a pass. Just know this,” I said as I started to wipe myself with my back to her. “You and I will never just fuck. Plus, I like men. You need to face that fact.”

  I waited for her smart-ass remark, and when none came, I turned around to face her again. This time, she looked like the Niya I knew. Not so aggressive, not so lost in thought.

  “You’re right. My bad. I need to stop coming at you like this, but I think you really need to think over that straight shit.”

  She turned to leave before I could even answer.

  * * *

  After I got dressed, I went into the living room to tell Niya that I was leaving. It was only noon, yet I was so ready for that day to be over. When I got to the living room, she wasn’t there, so I checked her room and then her grandmother’s room, and all were empty. As I turned to leave, thinking that she must have stepped out, I heard it. Soft whimpers coming from her grandma’s bathroom.

  At first, I didn’t know if I should go in, but she sounded like she was in such pain that I just had to make sure that she was okay. I knocked on the door, but she didn’t answer. So slowly, I turned the knob and let myself in. Niya sat on the toilet with bloodshot eyes. Her face was a light cherry red, and veins popped out of her skull. Tears ran down her face at what seemed to be a million miles a minute. I didn’t say anything. I just walked over to her and stood in front of her. I pulled her hair out of her face and let her pull me to her. As I stood and she sat, she rested her head against my stomach and wrapped her arms around my waist. She hugged me tight, and I just let her cry for the next half an hour.

  Gradually, her tears slowed down, and she was able to get herself together.

  “I know that you have to go home, but would you mind smoking a jay with me? I feel that after the night and morning we’ve had, we have to talk.”

  She was right. I had a few things I wanted to ask her. We decided to go down to her car so we could have as much privacy as we needed.

  * * *

  As Niya and I walked down to her car, I thought about the many questions that needed answers. Who was that person who had stood in that alleyway? Who was that person who had almost taken off her mother’s head? H
er eyes were vacant; her soul no longer roamed in that beautiful body I had come to love. I felt like too much was going on at once. The halfway threesome had already fucked my head up, and after having to deal with Niya holding a gun up to my stepfather’s head, that shit with her mother, and then the bathroom scenario . . . I couldn’t think straight. For the first time in our friendship, I was kind of scared of Niya. Sure, a part of me felt loved and thankful that she would take a life for me, but all the stuff that had gone down made me a little afraid.... Who was that person?

  When we got to her car, we climbed in and just sat and smoked at first. Seconds passed, and soon those seconds turned into minutes. I didn’t know how to start the conversation. I didn’t want to come off like an ungrateful little girl, but I needed answers.

  “Niya?”

  “Yes, Jamilla?”

  She was looking right at me. With her eyes piercing my soul deeply, it was as if she was ready for whatever I was about to throw at her. She waited, hardly blinking, as I tried to find the right words.

  “What in the fuck was all of that? Where do I even start?” That was all I could come up with. I had asked a straight question, with no curveballs, hoping for a straight answer.

  “You could start wherever you would like.”

  I thought about it. The threesome was the least of my worries. “My stepdad . . . Were you really going to kill him if I didn’t show up?”

  “He was a dead man walking in my book. I was ready to kill him when you weren’t there, and I was still going to kill him even after you had walked up. He hurt you, and for that reason, he was a dead man.”

  Boom! There it was. No filter. And she offered no chaser. I sat there as she peered into my eyes, and I was at a loss for words.

  Chapter 28

  Niya

  I answered her the only way I knew how. Truth ruled my soul, and that was all I always wanted to give her . . . the truth. I didn’t ever want Jamilla to see that side of me, but it was inevitable. That darker side, that side of me who would kill for her, it would always be there. In that moment, I would have died for her. I would have breathed my last breath for her. So as we sat in the car, smoking, I decided to let her in just a little more. I wouldn’t tell her about the murders, but just about my drug dealings, White Boy, and my temper. By the time I was done, I was sure that not telling her about my murderous ways was the right thing. She was shocked enough.

  “I kind of knew that you were dealing drugs. I was just hoping that it wasn’t true,” she sighed.

  I didn’t mean to laugh, but it kind of slipped out. “How did you think that I was living the way I’m living? My granny can’t lace my shit like this. She didn’t buy me this car. People kill me with that ‘I was hoping it wasn’t true’ shit. You knew it was true. No need to hope.”

  “I was hoping that you weren’t fucking dumb enough to think that you out of all people would beat this game. That you won’t end up dead or in jail, like the rest of them fools out on these streets. What does your grandma think about all of this?”

  I took a long drag before answering. “It breaks her heart. Her biggest fear is that I will end up like my mom or dad, but she knows that I am going to do what I want to do. She says that I get that from her. Stubborn as hell.”

  We shared a laugh, a mini vacation from the tension in the car. I sat there looking at her, and she looked right back at me. So many thoughts ran through my mind, but she spoke first.

  “I want you to stop. I want—”

  “I just can’t quit, Jamilla. There are rules to this shit. I got people who count on me.”

  I watched as Jamilla scrunched up her face, as if she was disgusted by my words. “I don’t give a shit. They are counting on you for the wrong things. Don’t you have dreams? Your words are beautiful. Don’t you want to live to see your dreams come true?”

  “Jamilla, you know that I want to rap, but it’s just a hard game to crack into.”

  “Please don’t give me that shit. You’re out here on the mean streets of Brooklyn, slanging that shit, so there’s nothing you can’t do. If you can make it out here, the rap game will be simple. You just have to get out of that shell and go after it. I believe in you. Now you just have to believe in yourself. Plus, look at what drugs have done to your own mother.”

  She had made me smile, but that mother shit threw me off. “The sad part is that you’re right. My mother—”

  “That’s why you have to stop. Think about what went down this morning. The same drugs you’re dealing are the same drugs that are turning people into the same monster your own mother has become. I am not disrespecting you or your mother, but that’s the truth, Niya.”

  I took her hand, and as soon as I felt her fingers against mine, it was like she spoke to me without uttering a word. It was as if I could feel her truth through her skin. She would be right by my side and would catch me if I fell. She was going to be right there to help me realize my dreams, because she truly believed in me.

  “I will make you a deal. The minute I see the path to stardom, I will leave that street shit alone.”

  Jamilla sat there and thought about things.

  “Six months,” she finally said. “I am giving you only half of a year, and you really have to try. If I don’t see any effort, I am going to fuck you up.” We giggled as she threw up her pinkie finger. “Promise me, Niya. Promise me that you will chase your dreams, no matter what. Promise me that only death will stop you.”

  Jamilla brought tears to my eyes, but I held them back. I just threw up my pinkie finger and wrapped it around hers.

  “I promise you, Milla boo.”

  Chapter 29

  Jamilla

  I didn’t mean to bring up her mother, but she needed to face things head-on. I loved her with all my heart, and at times, you had to say and do things that were not easy just so you could save the ones you loved. I wasn’t playing with her. Niya knew that I would be on her case like the damn Feds. She was too special to get caught up in the street life bullshit. I would do anything to make sure that the world got to experience the Niya I had come to know and love.

  “About the shit that went down in the bathroom—”

  When I came down to the car, I thought that I would have a mouthful to say about her prying hands, but once we were in the car, it didn’t seem that important.

  “Don’t worry about it, Niya. Things happen. I just want you to face the fact that I am into men.”

  Her face changed a bit when I uttered those words.

  “I just needed to do something to take my mind off of what was going on,” she said. “I’m sorry. I should have never come at you like that.”

  I reached over and rubbed the back of her neck. “I knew that’s why you did it. That’s why I gave you a pass.”

  After our conversation, I walked away with a better understanding of who this beautiful creature was. She was complex, she had layers, and I was sure of one thing. I probably had so much more to learn about her.

  We left her car and walked into our building hand in hand. As we stood in the hallway that would separate us for the time being, we smiled. She pulled me close and embraced me long and strong. After she let go and we retreated to our respective sides of the building, she called my name. I looked back at her, and she had that same genuine smile.

  She said, “Jamilla, I will learn to respect the fact that you like men, but that means you also have to learn to respect the fact that you’re also into girls. That pussy was wet as shit.”

  She winked and left me standing on my side of the building. I could hear her taking the steps two at a time. I thought about what she had said and brushed it off as wishful thinking on her part.

  Chapter 30

  Niya

  I couldn’t help but smile. Jamilla’s face was priceless. I wasn’t buying the bullshit she was selling about being straight. She was bi at best. Her body rocked to the beat of a very gay musical. I was going to try my hardest to respect her wishes, but damn, I
wanted that girl so fucking bad.

  As I entered the apartment, all was peaceful. I looked in my room and saw that my mother was still asleep, but without my grandmother. I went to her room and found her on her bed, puffing on a joint while reading her Bible. I crawled into her bed and laid my head in her lap. I fell asleep with her hand on my head and to the sound of her scriptures in her native tongue.

  When I woke up, the first thing I did was look in my room. A small part of me hoped that she would still be there, still sleeping, still at peace. I loved to see her that way, but as I entered my room, the only person I saw was my grandmother. She had a bunch of my clothes at her feet and was taking her time to hang them up. Right away, I knew what had gone down.

  “She tried to take them to sell?” I asked, already knowing the answer to my question.

  “Just pray for her, mi amor. She take some shirts, but I save most.”

  I shook my head and answered my ringing phone. Work was just what I needed to get my mind off of shit. I set up a time to meet White Boy and, for the next week, threw myself into “work.” I moved a lot of weight that week, which was good. I was stacking cash with Jamilla’s voice echoing in the back of my brain. I had to have enough to make sure that when I quit, I was done for good. As for my mother, she would cross my mind here and there, but I tried just to let the thought of her go. She was gone again, not only from our lives, but also from the land of the living. She was the walking dead.

  Chapter 31

  Jamilla

  The weeks were flying by, and I found myself writing more and more. What had started out as my thoughts on a budding new friendship was shaping up to be a full-fledged book. It was on my mind at all times, and when I would get home at night, I would go right to it and the words would just flow. It was as if my mind knew that I was in a rush. I had to get it done by Niya’s birthday. I just had to.