It took him ignoring me yesterday for me to see that. I supposed I would be moving on. I just wished he knew how much I loved him. I loved his smile and sense of humor. I loved his physical attributes as well. Seven was light as the sun with curly hair and full lips. He had a physique like a basketballplayer. He was almost as tall as one. I loved that too. I would climb that tree all day.
It was his mean streak that I hated. I didn’t like the tone he used to talk to me with sometimes. Whenever he got irritated or angry with me, he could flip the script . . . just like his ass did Saturday night. I didn’t care about how he talked to people that had offended him in some way. I didn’t want him talking to me or my family that way. If my dad ever heard that shit, he would snap his neck.
“Cuz, you good? You just staring at your computer. You been like this since yesterday.”
“I’m okay. Seven just got under my skin yesterday.”
“What that nigga do now?”
“Nothing. He didn’t even speak to me.”
He chuckled. “Well, that’s what you wanted, right?”
“Honestly, Quincy, I don’t know what I want. I love him though. That’s why this shit hurts. I feel like I’m heartbroken. I can’t even work without my mind being consumed with all the good times we shared. Everything goes haywire when other people infiltrate our bubble. It’s like he doesn’t know how to function around people besides his family. Shit, judging by the way he talks to some of them and gets away with it, they probably enabled his behavior.”
“Well, you’ve met his family. Are they the same way?”
I chuckled. “His dad and his older twin sisters are the same way, but I don’t think any of them are as bad as him. I would have to see them in some similar situations. They were a little standoffish when I first met them. I was uncomfortable as hell at first. His mom and his other sister are sweet. His younger brother is kind of quiet, but he’s a teenager. He doesn’t smile a lot though. So, I guess he gets it honest.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Plus, he’s younger than me.”
“Damn. By how much?”
“Five years. I’ll be twenty-nine in a hot minute, and he’s twenty-four.”
“Well, shit. No wonder. Most guys don’t really start maturing until they are twenty-six or older. He’s just leaving his YN phase. I heard the way he talked to you before he left Saturday. That nigga is demanding and possessive as fuck. If he’s ignoring you, take that as a sign to leave his ass alone.”
I nodded. I was done with this discussion. Seven and all of his bullshit was my heart. Quincy couldn’t begin to understand how we started.
How you doing, Miss? You need some help?
I turned around to see this light-bright, fine man walking toward me. I was struggling with all the stuff I bought at Michael’s Craft Store. “Umm . . . sure, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all, beautiful. My name is Seven. What’s yours?”
“Hmm, I like your name. It’s different. My name is Iesha. It’s nice to meet you.”
“I-eee-shaaa. You are the girl that I never had. And I want to get to know you betteeer.”
I died laughing. When I finally calmed down, I asked, “How old are you? There is no way you should know that song. I shouldn’t even know it.”
“I’m twenty-two, but my parents and older cousins keep me educated.”
He grabbed my bags as I opened the door. Once he got everything inside, he turned to me and smiled. “So umm . . . can I really get to know you?”
My eyebrows lifted. “Yeah, sure. What we gon’ do? Play Nintendo?” I asked, referring to the lyrics of “Iesha” by Another Bad Creation.
He laughed loudly. “Yeah, we can do that. You probably have to be home by nine.”
We laughed so much. He was cute. “I’m five years older than you, but I’m willing to get to know you, Seven. What’s your last name?”
“Henderson. Yours?”
“Teorey.”
“You can’t be from around here with a last name like that.”
