“So, what am I supposed to do, then?” I raise my eyebrows.
“Fuck someone else,” he looks at me like I’m stupid.
“You?” I tease.
“Now listen, that is tempting as fuck so a, you’re not playing fair, and b, I am not trifling with your drama mongering ass,” Rob looks at my crotch and obvious lack of tent pointedly, then gives me a withering look.
I roll my neck and rest my head back on the couch. I’m tired.
“Let’s go out,” he grins.
I shake my head. Pass.
“Come on,” he urges.
“I’m not social,” I grouse.
“Yes you are, you’re just in your feelings, quit being stupid,” he throws a couch pillow at me hard. He’s getting cranky. It makes me laugh.
“This weekend, bar hopping and pussy,” he informs me.
I shrug. It’s worth a shot, I guess. Tonight, though, I have other shit on my mind.
***
When Audra comes over, Mom and Malia are going at it about her grades and how mom got yet another call from the attendance office about Malia’s truancy.
Thankfully, once Audra enters, they cool it immediately and my mom smiles kindly at her. Malia glares at them both and storms to her room.
“Hi, sweetie!” Mom hugs and kisses her. “Are you here for dinner? I can make you a plate.”
I head upstairs, leaving them there, and continue collecting Audra’s various possessions that have accumulated in my room over the years. Clothes. Makeup. Jewelry. There’s something of hers in every corner. Contact fluid, a pack of gum, lotion.
It’s overwhelming. I snap a photo of the box with shit in it and send it to V.
Me: this is less than half of her shit in here
Veronica: is she there rn?
I smile.
Me: that was fast I thought you were having coffee with Thor
Veronica: lmao I am! In the bathroom
Me: show me
I have no idea how she’s going to react. I’ve been pressing her and I know it.
Audra walks in and I tuck my phone in my back pocket. I straighten despite the feeling of being crushed under the weight of an avalanche at the sight of her.
“Does your mom know we’re broken up?” she asks softly, her arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe, not quite coming into the room.
My phone buzzes rapidfire with back to back texts. I tense. I want to look right now.
“Yeah, she knows, she just loves you,” I murmur and look away from the guilt that crosses her beautiful face. “I got started, here’s a box. I brought a couple of trash bags if you think those will help and there’s another Amazon box. Don’t forget to check the bathroom, I think you might have some stuff in there too, maybe meds. Definitely some makeup.”
“You’re not staying?” Audra asks in a tiny voice.
I look at her. Really look at her. Her dark gray eyes striking, piercing me like they always do.
Her eyes are her father’s, but everything else, from the soft curve of her round nose to the slope of her hips and long legs–those are gifts from her mother. Her gold streaked hair, naturally coiled tight but left free like a halo, the light tawny brown of her skin the color of a sandy beach at first light…all together blend into one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen, and her looks are not even the most attractive thing about her.
I’m waxing poetic again.
I wish I didn’t have to see her. I guess I’ve been staring because her voice breaks, “Rakeem? You’re not staying?”
I look away and squeeze my eyes shut, and shake my head no.
“Sorry,” I mumble. “Text me when you’re done.” I move past her and jog down the stairs leaving her sniffles behind me.
Jasmine watches me with sad eyes from the sink where she’s drying dishes, but Devante is singing some Post Malone song as he washes. I spare her a forced smile and I head out the door without my coat.
I need to walk. Drive. I need to get out of here. Do anything.
I hop in my Jeep, where I’m going I don’t know.
I hook up my music to blare it, but every single song reminds me of Audra.
“How is she going to come to my house crying?” I shout to no one. How is she going to fucking rip me in two and then have the nerve to expect me to watch her leave?
I let out a scream. I’m so fucking tired of all of this.
I pull up and park at the riverbank. I sit on the hood of my car and watch NYC lights glitter across the black waters of the Hudson at night.
I think about Audra and her aspirations. I think about Devante, trying to navigate this bully situation without making shit worse for him. Malia lashing out, skipping school, smoking weed. Granny’s blood sugar. I think about how Mom works her damn fingers to the bone, her long shifts at the hospital.
She’s losing weight. Maybe I can look up easy food for her to take to work that she can snack on. Keep her energy up.
I think about Avery and our fucked up justice system that’s keeping my stepdad from being home.
The world seems so small, yet it all feels too big. I pinch the bridge of my nose, and realize that I am numb all over. I’m not sure how long I’ve been out here but too long, I’m sure. Mom’s probably wondering where I’m at. She doesn’t get on my ass though. The benefit of being an adult, I guess.
I climb back into my car and check my phone. When it unlocks, the text screen from my conversation with Veronica is open from when I hastily shoved my phone in my pocket.
Shit! I can’t believe I forgot. I scroll up.
Four pictures await me all from the bathroom of a Starbucks from hours ago.
The first is a booty shot of her ample ass in lacy cheeky panties, her skirt pushed up and over her ass. My heart leaps into my throat.
“Oh,” I say stupidly in my empty car.
The next is those same panties but this time from the front, her long black nails tugging the lace aside giving me just a glimpse of that forbidden flesh. I can see the moisture. I am rock fucking hard.
The next photo her hand is inside her panties parting her pussy lips behind a veil of lace. I can see that she’s wet to her thighs. My God.
The final picture is not actually a picture but a video of her beautiful face as she wraps her ruby red lips around her glistening fingers and sucks them clean.
I unzip my pants right here in this parking lot and let my cock free. I play the video again and start to stroke myself. I want her so fucking bad, goddamn.
I slide my hand up and down in a familiar rhythm, looking at her pictures, remembering how she clenched and writhed on my cock. How slippery for me she always is.
I rest my head back and moan as I fist my cock. I think back to the first time, when we were kids but thought we were grown because we were out of high school. That sticky night in June after her prom, the tension between us breaking with her kisses, leading all the way to her carefully riding me–so carefully– on the roof of my old apartment building, my suit pants pushed down and her big fluffy prom dress hiked around her waist. She looked so beautiful that night. She’s only more beautiful now.
I didn’t know until years later that she was a virgin. I thought it was our size difference that made her go so slow.
I filter through the memories, waking up next to her one summer and missing my polítical science class to spend another hour under her, listening to her whimpers and mewls.