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Being famous was weird like that.
With a sighed, “Must be nice,” Yani mindlessly started straightening up some of her belongings while I stood nearby watching, mainly because I didn’t understand why she had so much shit.
Too much shit.
Way more shit than anyone would need for an ordinary visit which practically made it mandatory for me to get some answers when I mentioned, “You know, you still haven’t told me why you’re here.”
“I don’t need a reason.”
“But there is one.”
“Yeah, and it’s none of your business,” she responded, her little attitude making me huff a laugh when I finally stepped towards her and asked, “It’s like that,Briyana?”
Avoiding my gaze, she emphasized, “Again. Why do you care?”
“A nigga can’t be curious now?” I asked amusedly, recognizing that shit must’ve really been fucked up for her if she was going this hard to keep it a secret. But unfortunately, all my humor was lost the second she looked me dead in the eyes and replied, “You can be as curious as you wanna be, Lance. But that still doesn’t mean I owe you an explanation.”
It might not have been intentional. But her word choice had definitely struck a nerve that had me biting the inside of my cheek as I stared her down, instantly annoyed by how familiar that shit sounded when I told her, “Yeah, you’ve always been good at that.” And since it was obvious she wasn’t trying to have any sort of real conversation, I took that as my cue to leave, not all that surprised when she didn’t even bother to try and stop me as I jogged down the stairs, said goodbye to her pops, and then got my ass back to where I belonged on the other side of the street.
After grabbing my duffle bag from the trunk, I finally headed into my parents’ house, giving them both a quick what’s up before I dipped into the bathroom to get myself cleaned up. But the entire time I was in the shower, I couldn’t seem to get my interaction with Yani out of my head, trying to figure out why the whole thing had left me so bothered when I really shouldn’t have cared at all.
I mean, it wasn’t like we had to see each other again. In fact, I’d only seen her by accident which meant this whole thing could’ve been avoided had I just let Mr. Hayes drop his jars of pasta sauce or whatever the fuck it was he’d bought at the grocery store. But leave it to me to good guy my way right into some bullshit, the annoyed energy that had resulted lingering as I finally joined my parents at the table for brunch.
Of course, they picked up on my mood immediately, my father being the one to ask, “Still upset about all this contract mess?”
Shaking my head, I plucked a few bacon strips off the platter in front of me as I answered, “Nah, that’ll get figured out one way or another.”
“So what’s the problem then, son?” my mother asked, her legitimate concern making the truth feel a little goofy since it shouldn’t have been a problem.
Sheshouldn’t have been a problem.
Why was she such a damn problem?
Instead of trying to figure that out in the moment, I attempted to treat the whole situation like it was no big deal once I finally responded, “Nothin’. It’s just… did y’all know Briyana was back in town?”
“Oh yeah. I ran into her last night when I was taking out the trash,” my father answered casually, his nonchalance making me frown when I asked, “And you didn’t tell me?”
“She said she’d see you soon enough,” he explained with a shrug. “And clearly she was right.”
“It wasn’t planned,” I told him. “I just went to help her pops with his groceries and ran into her while I was over there.”
“Okay, but what does any of that have to do with that mood you came into my kitchen with?” my mother asked, my father peeking over at her with an amused look like he already knew the answer to her question as I tried -and failed- to come up with one of my own. And after another moment passed, he couldn’t wait to get his thoughts off his chest, his amusement on full tilt when he said, “That first real heartbreak never quite fades as easily as we think it should.”
My face scrunched instantly as I barked, “What? Yani ain’t break my heart.”
“Ehhh… I think I might be with your father on this one, baby,” my mother chimed in before reminding us, “You didn’t leave your room for like three days after you found out she was going to Oregon instead of LSU like you thought.”
“Yeah, cause I was mad at her. Not cause I was heartbroken,” I defended, the two of them sharing another look that made me ask, “Y’all really think I was heartbroken?”
While my mother gave an enthusiastic nod, my father answered, “It doesn’t take two people being involved in a romantic relationship for real feelings to get hurt, son.”
“And your feelings weredefinitelyhurt behind that one,” my mother tagged on, the two of them making a solid point even though I didn’t want to admit it.
It was the truth though.
Yanihadhurt my feelings, broken my heart, left me feeling betrayed and all kinds of shit. And even though plenty of time had passed since then, the fact that she was still acting like we had problems earlier told me I might not have been the only one.
