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He walked away from me and left me sitting there, feeling dumb. The next day he got back with Chandler; the following week I got back with Mohammed out of retaliation, and the farce continued for two years.
I made feeble attempts to get Jason back, but he wasn’t even going for it. I even broke down, gave him a heartfelt apology and asked if we could at least be friends. He told me to go be friendly with Mohammed. I never did anything sexual with Mohammed. He was still frontin’ on the dick. I wasn’t too upset because I was in love with Jason Reynard, and there were no two bones about it. I just dated Mohammed to try to make Jason jealous.
Brina and some of the other girls discovered a hole in the wall of the locker room, and they used to peek through it to get dang-a-lang sightings. I couldn’t have cared less until one day Brina yelled out that she could see Jason’s ass. I knocked her on the floor like I was a linebacker for the Atlanta Falcons. I peeked through the hole and started salivating, praying he would turn around so I could see his other part . Our gym teacher, Ms. Price, interrupted me though and delivered a serious tongue-lashing when she discovered what I was up to. Now, fifty-eleven girls had been looking through that hole for weeks, and no one got caught. As soon as I take a glance, I get cold busted. Ain’t that a bitch?
chapter
six
Springtime rolled around, and it was time for the annual School Fair at Central. I was reluctant to go because Mohammed had been showing out and seemed more worried about talking my ears off about the Nation of Islam than taking my pants off. Like I said before, that was cool with me. It had gotten to the point where even being around him irritated the hell out of me. The Friday night before the fair, I called him up and succinctly told him all bets were off.
“Why don’t you want me to take you?” He sounded so pitiful when he realized I was on the brink of kicking his ass to the curb. “You asked me months ago to go with you to the fair at your school, and now you’re backing out at the last minute? I was supposed to be filling in for Brother Jabrail at the rally tomorrow afternoon, but I changed my schedule around and everything just so I could go hang out with you.”
The guilt trip was not even working. It became disturbingly clear to me that Mohammed had been nothing more than a big waste of time. I listened to him drone on and on and finally resorted to holding the phone away from my ear while I became pleasantly immersed in another thought. I was sitting on the living room sofa when some headlights suddenly blinded me through the curtains. I moved one of the sheer curtain panels to the side slightly and peeked outside to see if it was Momma getting off work early; I was anxious to tell her about the A I received on my calculus exam. It wasn’t Momma but I caught the taillights of Jason’s Camaro just as they turned off. When he got out of the car, he looked like an Adonis, a god even. He was sporting this Negro League baseball jacket and some Levis’ that were so tight, I wanted to reach out and spank that tight ass of his. It brought on a delightful set of ambiguous memories, including the glimpse I got of his butterball naked ass through the hole in the girls’ locker room. Things could’ve been so different if I hadn’t gone too far and dumped him that day. It had been almost two years, and he still gave me nothing but cynical remarks, dispassionate glares, and malevolent treatment.
“Zoe, are you there?” Damn, why couldn’t he just shut up and stop whining? I was busy daydreaming about a real man. “Zoe? Oh, so now you just gonna igg me and thangs? That’s cool!”
I watched Jason use his foot to nudge the car door shut because his arms were full of some Kroger bags he retrieved from the backseat. I knew I had about thirty seconds to hit the pavement, or he would be inside and out of my reach. My mother had mentioned that Jason’s parents were going out of town for the weekend and asked her to keep an eye on him, so I knew he was alone. It was time to make my move.
“Umm, Mohammed, I have to go.” I shifted through the repertoire of excuses I frequently used to get off the phone with him, trying to make sure the one I was about to blurt out hadn’t been abused. “My mother will be home in a few, and I need to clean up the kitchen before she gets here. Call me next week. Peace.”
“But, Zoe, what about tomorrow?”
Click. Enough of all that. I jumped up off the worn and tattered sofa and quickly adjusted the dolman sleeves of the white blouse I had on with some black velveteen leggings and black leather platform shoes. I made a beeline for the front door, pausing half a second to smile in the mirror and make sure none of the meatloaf from dinner was stuck in my front teeth.
I was determined to make a classic statement of subtlety and poise, pretending like I just happened to be stepping outside for some fresh air or something. Once I saw Jason’s key hitting the lock and the lights go on in his foyer when he hit the switch on the wall, I quickly discarded that option.
“Jason, hold up just a minute!” I heard my voice and realized I was screaming, panicking even, so I toned it down a bit and then reiterated, “Hang on a second.”
Even from across the street, I could see his eyes crinkle-at the sides. He was probably under the automatic assumption I only wanted to say something sarcastic to him. To be honest, I had no idea what I was going to say, but I knew I needed Jason. I wanted Jason. I had to have Jason, or I might as well have slit my wrists with a plastic knife from KFC or taken an overdose of Ex-Lax or something.
“Zoe, what do you want?” He tossed the bags down on the tile floor in the entryway.
“Why do you think I want something?” I replied, moving tentatively toward him. “Maybe I just wanted to say hey.”
He gave me a sanguine smile, and I was a bit relieved. Normally, he would just snarl at me. “Well, hey.”
I was at his doorway by then, and I immediately got lost in his eyes, wondering how in the hell the little nucca I used to scrape in the street with grew up to be so damn fine.
“Anything else?” he asked, beginning to press on the backside of the door like he was on alert to slam it in my face if my evil twin raised her ugly head. He knew I wanted him though. I could tell. He was just basking in the glory of knowing he had control over my conflicted heart.
I hesitated and bit on my bottom lip, contemplating what to say next. He blushed and leaned against the doorframe, and it dawned on me how tall he was. I had three-inch platforms on my five-foo
t, six-inch frame, and he looked like the Jolly Green Giant standing in front of me. “How tall are you?”
He grinned and let out a slight chuckle. “Is that what you came over here to ask me at this time of night? How tall I am?”
“No, but I was just wondering. I didn’t realize you were so gigantic.”
He rolled his eyes, but I could tell my interest in his height was flattering to him. “If you must know, gurl, I’m about six-five.”
“Six-five? Damn!” For some reason, I had to look at his feet. I glanced down, and he had on the biggest-ass pair of Nikes I’d ever seen. Brina and the other gurls used to always talk about how a boy’s feet were directly related to penis size. I had never bought into that, since penis size was never a fascination for me—that is, until the day I prayed like all hell Jason would turn around in the gym shower. On my way back up to look at his face again, I made a pit stop at the crotch of his jeans. My eyes ballooned when I spotted it behind the denim fabric. Not only was it big, much bigger than it had been a couple years before when we used to grind up against each other, but he either had a coconut in his pocket or he was damn sure happy to see me.
“Well, look, I’m about to go cook me some hot dogs. Aight?” I must’ve made him feel uneasy because he turned on me, and his grin changed to a pout. I wondered if he knew I was peeping his dang-a-lang.
“Okay, cool.” I started to turn around when a lightbulb went off in my head. “You mind if I grab one of your hot dogs, Jason? Momma’s working late again, and I’m starved.” I rubbed my belly to drive the point home. “We don’t have a thing in the fridge, and I don’t have a car like you, so I can’t go to Kroger or grab some fast food.”
I was lying my ass off, knowing good and damn well that less than an hour earlier I had munched down on the mouthwatering meatloaf and mashed potatoes with gravy Momma fixed before she left for work.
