Page 71 of Certified to Handle You 3

I looked down at the blunt, then at him. “Nigga, this my face.”

“That ain’t yo’ face, nigga,” he laughed. “That’s that I’on wanna be here face.”

I finally took a sip from my cup and sat it down by my leg. “Then why you ask?”

Blaq laughed and shook his head, but he ain’t push it. He turned back toward the women, and I leaned deeper in the couch, lettin’ my eyes move over the club again.

I looked around the section while everybody else seemed locked into the night. Bottles kept comin’, women kept movin’ around the couches, niggas kept talkin’ loud over the music, and all of it felt like the same shit I had done too many times before.

My mind had started seein’ shit different lately, and I knew that made me hard to deal with.

Either I cared too much or I ain’t care at all. Either I wanted somethin’ so bad it could pull me apart, or I could cut it off and turn dangerous behind it. That middle space never lasted long with me.

I ain’t know how to sit here in this shit, and I never really had to learn ‘cause somebody was always beside me, movin’ just as wild, laughin’ just as loud and ready to make whatever wrong decision I was thinkin’ about makin’.

But now Pressure had his wife. Kay’Lo had his. My uncles had built lives. My father had built his. Everybody around me had some version of home that ain’t depend on noise.

I had been chasin’ that too, whether I said the shit out loud or not. That was the part that kept sittin’ on my chest while the club moved around me.

I thought my life was finally lockin’ into place with a woman I loved. I had let myself think past the night life, and past the next time I needed to be outside so I ain’t have to feel nothin’.

I had started lookin’ at houses, thinkin’ about my woman walkin’ through rooms with me, thinkin’ about kids runnin’ through hallways and a table with everybody at it ‘cause that kind of shit stopped soundin’ corny once I saw it up close. Then everything turned, and I ain’t been able to get my feet all the way back under me since.

I ain’t wanna sit with that in the section, though.

I set the blunt down and stood up, adjustin’ the front of my jeans while Blaq looked over. He lifted his chin at me, and I told him, “I’m finna take a piss.”

He nodded and went back to his conversation while I moved out the section and cut through the crowd. The music hit harder once I was off the couch. Bodies brushed past me, perfume mixed with liquor, and folks kept speakin’ as I walked by.

I spoke back when I needed to, kept it pushin’ when I ain’t, and made my way toward the bathroom with my head already somewhere else. The hallway near the restrooms was packed too, with niggas posted on the wall and women takin’ pictures under the lights like the bathroom area was a damn photo shoot.

I handled my business, washed my hands, and took a second at the sink with my palms pressed to the counter. My reflection looked calm enough. That was usually all I needed people to see. I wiped my hands, opened the bathroom door, and stepped back into the hallway.

I ain’t make it three steps before somebody bumped into my chest. It was a soft body with familiar perfume, and green eyes lookin’ up at me hit me all at once. It was Reni.

She took one step back, and I watched her face change before she got it under control. She looked good, the way she always did. Hair laid, makeup soft, dress sittin’ on her body right and them eyes still too easy to read when she wasn’t guardin’ ’em fast enough.

For a second, neither one of us said nothin’. The club was loud behind us, people was movin’ around us, and still, that lil’ pocket of space between us felt like it belonged to somethin’ older than tonight.

“Wussup, Reni?” I asked, tryna play the shit cool.

She blinked and fixed the strap of her purse on her shoulder. “Hey, Renza.”

Her voice was calm, but I could hear the weight in it. She ain’t smile big. She ain’t roll her eyes, and she ain’t do none of that extra shit that would’ve made this easier to walk away from. She just stood there lookin’ at me like she had already decided she wasn’t gon’ let me see too much, even though her eyes was doin’ what her mouth wouldn’t.

“You good?” I asked.

“I’m good,” she said, then looked past me for a second like she needed somewhere else to put her eyes. “You?”

“I’m straight.”

She nodded, and the silence between us stretched enough for a few people to push around us. I stepped closer to the wall so we wasn’t blockin’ the walkway, and she moved with me. That told me she wasn’t tryna run from the conversation, even if she wasn’t exactly comfortable standin’ in it.

“You here with somebody?” I asked.

“Mecca. She somewhere by the bar.”

I almost smiled, but I kept it light. “Sound about right.”