Sin
Spin the Block
“Heads up, Stephen is here.”
“Why?” I turn to face the open doorway where my sister is standing. I stab myself in the eye with the mascara wand, but the pain barely registers over the wild flare of panic in my chest. “Stephen? As in my ex-boyfriend?”
“Is there another one?”
My heart skips a beat and then starts hammering. “He’s inthishouse?”
She nods slowly. “He’s running his mouth downstairs as we speak.”
“Why?” I cry and throw my makeup back into the bag hastily.
“He came to drop off some mail for you. Mom invited him to stay.”
“Why would she do that? How could youlet her?” I point an accusing finger at her.
My sister crosses her arms and glares at me. “How could I stop her? You won’t tell anyone what really went down. You made it seem amicable and all she can see is that Kwame isrightthere, making lovesick eyes at you, obviously infatuated with you, fine as hell, and you’re still just friends.” She puts air quotes around the word friends.
“Oh stop it.” I roll my eyes and wave it off. But inside I’m seesawing between hope and fear that she’s right. Infatuation was two exitsago for me and I’m not sure he’s going to catch up. Or if he’s even trying to. “Do youreallythink Kwame is infatuated with me, Mae?”
“Yes, I think you feel the same way. But something is holding you back.”
Butterflies shake their wings in my chest at the mention of Kwame’s name, but I feel guilty that I’ve burdened her with this secret.One crisis at a time, Sin.
I force my focus back to the matter at hand. “I don’t understand why he accepted her invitation. He’s got to know I wouldn’t be happy to see him.”
“Well judging from the flowers he brought you, the case of spirits he brought Dad, and the shit-eating grin he’s wearing, I would say he doesn’t know that atall. Kinda wish I didn’t have Shelly’s shower today.”
“He brought what?” I shoot to my feet, makeup forgotten and grab the chocolate brown pleather skirt off the hanger on the back of my door, tug it over my hips and zip it up. “How dare he?” I start for the door and Mae grabs my arm.
“I know you’re surprised, but please don’t make a scene. You know how his mother likes to gossip, and Ma still has to see her every week at The Ghana Association meetings.”
“God, I hate this. I’m so sick of censoring myself for the sake of a bunch of people who only know the highlight reel version of my life.”
“I know. You don’t have to make nice, but be civil. Mom went to a lot of trouble today.”
“And then ruined all her hard work by inviting that goat to stink up the place.”
“Sin,” Mae chides.
My blood is rushing in my ears. I close my eyes and count to ten. “I will be civil.”
“Arsinoé!” My mother's voice carries up the stairs and reverberates against my bedroom door. My sister and I look at each other in alarm. The last thing I need is her to come upstairs and start fussing about my hair and clothes.
“Coming!” I call out, slip my feet into my pink furry house slippers, check myself in the mirror and say a prayer for my sanity.
“How do I look?”
“Like a smoke show. Areyousure you don’t want him back?”
I chose this outfit because I knew Kwame would like it. I wish I’d saved it. I curl my lip in disgust. “I want that man less than I want to get my period next week. Have fun at Shelly’s.” I hug her and watch her rushdown the stairs and call her goodbyes without stopping on her way to the front door.
I check the mirror one more time and then get downstairs as fast as my formfitting skirt will take me without breaking my neck.
“Hi, sorry to keep you—” I skid to a stop when I see the stuff of nightmares in front of me.
