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VANN
Homecoming week was winding down, and it was crazy to think of how much had changed in just a few days. Brooklyn and I were actually trying this love thing out. It was only the beginning, but it already felt tight, like a real genesis to our forever.
I hadn’t left her side in the couple days since we’d decided to give it a go with the exception of her leaving for work. Her place was small, but I didn’t care. Hell, I’d lived in smaller during my travels. I just wanted her and everything that went along with being her man.
We were at the biggest homecoming event—the football game, which was a spectacle beyond the field battle and band performances. Alumni from far and wide were in attendance at the midday event, some decked out in Romey U paraphernalia, others repping their fraternity or sorority, and still others in their finest threads, determined to demonstrate their post-collegiate success. Old heads in leather newsboy hats could be seen seated next to their fur drenched ladies although it was a mild fifty-five degrees outside. It was a real show, and I loved it.
From the great fifty-yard line seats Sharla’s position as Dean had afforded us, we could hear the coaches yelling and had great views of the action but that didn’t keep us from people watching.
Beside me, Brooklyn sat stiffly, reacting to my sister’s cool demeanor. I grabbed her hand and squeezed it. She looked up at me and smiled. Leaning in close, I kissed her cheek and then lifted our joined hands, kissing the back of hers. To our left, I heard a loud, exasperated sigh and knew without looking that it had come from my sister. The next thing I heard was Jovani’s rumbling voice but couldn’t make out his words as he talked to my mean-ass sister.
Chancing a glance at Sharla, my gaze rammed into hers. She didn’t look away and neither did I, the situation harkening back to our childhoods. I always won the stare-downs back then, being so much older, but given that I only had one eye in the game now, I wasn’t sure if I’d be victorious this time.
We were still staring each other down when Jovani, who was sitting between us, noticed and shook his head. Then he leaned in and whispered something to Sharla before standing from his seat.
“I’m not moving,” Sharla said, crossing her arms over her chest.
Jovani stared her down until she finally moved in a huff, settling beside me with her eyes fixed ahead of her.
“You got something you need to say to me?” I asked as Brooklyn pretended not to pay attention to the interaction.
“Nope,” Sharla said, popping her lips on the “p”.
“Childish ass, just gone sit up here and pout and shit, huh?”
“Whatever.”
“How long you gon’ act like this? “
Nothing from Sharla.
“You really are a damn trip,” I said, shaking my head.
Finally, she turned to look at me, reminding me of our beautiful grandmother, only Cake was meaner. “I’ma trip? Okay. Cool.”
“Yeah,youare a damn trip! Two people you love who have been through some rough individual mess that you have firsthand knowledge of are in love and your ass is mad about it. What kind of shit is that?”
“I’m not mad because y’all are in love. I’m mad because you kept all this a secret from me!”
“With all due respect, we are grown. Hell, I’m ten years growner than you! We were grown thirteen years ago when we found each other and what we did and how we did it was none of your damn business, Cake. I chose to tell you about us now, but I wasn’t obligated to. You need to grow the fuck up before you lose me because I don’t care how mad you get, Brooklyn is my future. It took me way too long to find my way back to her. I love the hell out of you, little sister, but your anger or bitterness or whatever the fuck it is will not ruin this shit for me, forus, because I love the hell out of Brooklyn, too.”
She stared at me before dropping her eyes. Then she leaned forward, her eyes on Brooklyn who was now openly observing us.
Meeting her gaze, Brooklyn said, “Shar, can you follow me?”
BROOKLYN
Surprisingly, Sharla followed me from our seats into the concourse underneath the bleachers. I scanned the area—vendor tables lined one side of the tunnel-like space, concession windows and stairs leading to the bleachers occupied the other. Noise pollution echoed around us, including cheers from the crowd outside. We wouldn’t be able to hear ourselves think here, let alone have a conversation.
“Come on,” I said.
“Where are we going?” Sharla snapped.
In response, I led her to the women’s restroom. It was busy, too, but far less noisy. The restroom was a massive area divided into two rooms, tons of stalls and a divided wall of sinks and mirrors. I stopped in the alcove just inside where women often lined up when all the stalls were occupied. There was no line at the moment.
We stood there for a moment before a voice said, “There y’all are!” It was Nadia, whose eyes darted between me and Sharla. “No injuries, so I made it in time.”
“She hasn’t tried to scratch my eyes out yet, but she wants to,” I said.
