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Chapter 9
Essex
Wednesday.
Thursday.
Friday.
I find myself measuring my time by how long it’s been since I’ve last seen Quintessa. Today is Saturday. It’s been too long. I gave her space to take care of her mom. Now, I miss her. Miss her so much, I feel a sensation similar to heartburn in my chest. It’s the same feeling I had the day we parted ways all those years ago. The day I feared I’d never see her again. I was at her house, watching her pack up the rest of her clothes. Her parents had all kinds of supplies she needed crowding the living room floor. My parent’s house looked the same…
“Are you scared?” I asked her.
“Scared of what, Stewart? College?”
“Yeah. I mean, you’ll be with people you don’t know.”
“So will you. Are you scared?”
“No. People are supposed to be more mature in college, right, so I don’t have to worry about getting picked on all the time.”
She folded a pair of jeans and looked at me. “You haven’t listened to anything I said in the last four years, have you, Stew?”
“I’ve listened to everything you’ve ever told me.”
“Then listen to this.” She walked over to me, stood between my legs as I sat on her bed and said, “You are special.”
“I’m not special, Tessie. Nothing about me is. You don’t have to say things to make me feel better. I know what I am.”
“And I know what you are. When I say you’re special, it’s what I mean, Stewart. The birthmark on your face is special. It makes you unique. I mean, you’re already unique, but it adds to it. Even the scar on your chest from your surgery – it’s…it’s you.”
“Everybody don’t see me the same way you do, Tessie.”
She sighed. “No, they don’t, and that’s too bad for them. I wish we could go to college together so I can be there every day to remind you of that. But please, Stewart, don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise. You…”
She sighed, took a break. Placing her hands on my face, she said, “My mom told me that black men and women are kings and queens. We rise on our own—start from nothing and work our way to the top. We don’t fold. We don’t retreat and we don’t wave white flags. We keep fighting no matter what. One day, you’ll discover that king inside of you. Until then, just know that you are amazing. You are the best this world has to offer, and I know you’ll do some amazing things because that’s what black men do. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, Tessie.”
She pressed her lips to my forehead. Then she said, “I have to finish packing.”
“Okay. I’ll go downstairs and help your dad load up the truck.”
“Okay.”
And that’s what I did. I helped him take her things to the truck. With each item I put on the truck, a piece of me died. I was losing my friend – the best friend I’d ever had. What was I going to do without her? I still hadn’t figured that out.
Quintessa brought down the last suitcase. Her father put the suitcase inside and says, “Well, that’s it.”
She turned to look at me, tears welled up in her eyes when she said, “I don’t know why I feel this queasiness in my stomach like I’m never going to see you again. I’ll see you again, right?”
“Yeah. Every holiday break,” I forced out, but it felt like my throat was closing up like I couldn’t breathe.
“Right,” she said. She walked up to me for the last time, embraced me and whispered in my ear, “Take care of yourself, okay?”
“I will.”
And with that, she turned away, wiping tears and got in the truck. And I just stood there – too hurt to cry. I remained hopeful. This wasn’t the end. I’ll see her every holiday break like she said. Going to different colleges wouldn’t be the end of our friendship.
