Reagan and her right hand, Amarine are the first two faces I see upon walking into Homeroom. What an ugly name right?
They are bumping their heads to something playing blasting through their AirPods. I walk past Reagan’s desk and knock her books off of it, typically mean girl shit. It’s time for her to get some of this shit back I’m thinking.
“You want to play with fire? Baby I’m Kerosine. This won’t end well for you. I promise.” I smirk and she pushes me away kissing her teeth.
“That’s why I was with “your” nigga last night.” She brags.
“Mhmm, good for you. If that’s something to be proud of, then I genuinely feel sorry for you Reagan. Check your old man tonight though.” I tell her before taking a seat next to Matthew knowing it’ll piss her off.
If anyone can help me knock this bitch down a peg, it’s him. She was with him for a while, he’s got to have some grimy shit on her that I can make good use of.
I lean over, toward his desk and tell him I’d like to go grab food during lunch.
“Where?”
“Wherever.” I flash a warm smile.
I look back to Reagan who I know for sure is lying about last night. But I’m going to pretend she’s not for the sake of making her sweat.
Jaheim didn’t leave my house ‘til damn near midnight. And I have his location, he went straight home. She’s such a liar and my thing is, for what reason? I’m still not getting what it is about me that makes her so upset.
I’m starting to think she’s mad about the family I was born into. I don’t play ball, my brother does. It’s not my fault I’m around the people that I am. I think she’s jealous of that. I naturally get more attention than she does, but I don’t feel like it gives me any sort of special credit.
It’s more annoying than anything else, and the stalkerish stuff she’s been doing, is not helping whatsoever.
“My mom cooked last night. I was going to go eat at home.” He smiles, tapping his pen to his chin a few times in a row. I’m pretty sure he thinks he’s about to pull something off.
I smirk and nod.
“That’s fine.”
“So is this shit about you and Jaheim true? You about to have his baby?”
I turn and give him the “as if” glare.
“Absolutely not. My brother would kill me. I’d be out on the street for real. Don’t act like you don’t know my people keep me on a tight leash.” I play into my perceived “good girl” persona.
I’ve never been one to make trouble in school, and naturally I get along with everyone. I’m not a bitch like Reagan, and I truly think that’s why she’s so mad.
“Mhmm, who took them pictures anyway? That’s some creep shit. I know having paparazzi must be extremely uncomfortable for you.” He tries to identify with my emotion.
Taking my seat at the breakfast bar, I show him I agree.
“Your ex. She has a hard on for me I think.” I tell him certain of my plan.
He just looks at me.
“Yeah she does. I noticed that. She thought I had a crush on you when we were together.” He goes into the fridge to grab a Pyrex container full of some kind of pasta.
He opens one of the white and green marble cabinets to grab two bowls out.
“You eating?” I nod knowing I’m not all too picky of an eater.
He puts some of the white-sauced noodles into a bowl for me and it takes us all of 30 minutes to eat what he heated up. It’s some sort of Stroganoff, not too bad, just something I wouldn’t go out of my way to cook myself.
I finish my cup of Minute-Maid Strawberry Lemonade and set my glass in the sink across from me. As I sit back down in the stool, my behind is grabbed.
“You not trying to go back to school for real are you?” He kisses my back a few times.
“Matthew, get your hands off of me.” I push him back.
He sucks his teeth and whines.
“You know you wanted to come over here, why you acting?”
“I’m not.” I get off the stool and turn around to face him. I slide my sock back and forth while folding my arms.
He comes closer to me and smiles. He’s taller, so his lips are naturally angled down toward my own.
“I need to know some shit about Reagan. I’ve got to get her off my back Matthew. She’s tweaked out. I’m not with it. I need to know some compromising shit. And I know you’ve got some.”
He laughs.
“What do I get out of telling you anything?”
“What do you want? Tickets to a game or something?”
He shakes his head no. He takes his hand to my chin and kisses my neck.
“I want you to give me some head though.” His mild accent shines through with every word.
I scoff. He must be out of his mind.
“You want head… with no proof?” I laugh. “You could be telling me anything.” I’m not seriously considering this shit.
He kisses me.
“So you willing to suck my dick for a video of her fucking me?” He asks as if excited.
A video? Of what? He’s got a sex tape on her?
I kiss him again.
“Let me see it. Maybe it will get me excited enough to do something.” I flirt suggestively to try and wiesel my way into a viewing.
His eyes grow wider.
“You a little freak huh?” His voice deepens intensely.
“For the right person. Let me see the video baby.” I kiss his cheek, playing into his fantasy a bit.
His phone is pulled out and placed behind his back while he feels up on me. He scrolls a while and then I hear a bunch of slobbery noises from behind my left ear. Enticingly, he moves the phone in front of my face so that I can watch the way Reagan viciously sucks him off, opening and shutting her eyes in rhythm with her head bobbing movements.
“Woah. Okay, I don’t want to see that shit.” I feel kind of bad, this shit is pathetic. It’s embarrassing. And she probably doesn’t even know this video exists.
Matthew is a piece of shit.
He snickers looking at my lips. He attempts to kiss me again and then my phone rings. It’s my brother. Perfect timing.
“Oh shit, I have a doctor’s appointment and my brother is picking me up from school early.” I’m quick with my lie. He’s most likely just calling to remind me to make my first OB appointment.
“What?”
“Yeah, rain check. We gotta get back to school. Like, Now.”
Tonight there is a birthday barbecue for Desmond’s second born, Shakira. It’s at his house and I think this is the only way I’ll really get to talk to him. I have to get his attention since he’s been acting like a little bitch lately. I can’t stand him, and I’m gonna make his ass mad because of it.
Jaheim is coming with us and I’m going to give Mr. Chisel a show in his own backyard. I’ve decided to put on a tight, black, cami-strap dress that stops at my lower-mid thigh. I’ve paired it with some baby blue, black and white Jordan Flights. I pull my hair back into a sleek curly bun and put on some hoops.
I spray myself down in my Mugler Alien Elixir perfume, knowing I’m going to shut shit down when I walk past him. I’m going to act as if he doesn’t even exist to me.
Jaheim and I ride separate from Tommy, knowing he’ll probably stay later than we care to. The only reason I’m even coming along is because he swears it would be weird if I don’t show my face, given I come to every other team-related event he attends.
Out in the back of the house, the huge backyard has been set up as some sort of painting party for the kids. The invitation did say to come in all white for the sake of the colors popping again our fits, but I personally don’t believe in dress codes.
I don’t want to look like anyone else in the room. And neither does my dude. Desmond is going to have no choice but to see us.
Jaheim is wearing an all black fit with a baby blue Sp5der hoodie and the same pair of flights I’m wearing. The two of us match always leaves our haters mad.
I move around to say hello to a few of the teammates with whom I’m familiar. And suddenly Maria’s 18-year-old sister, Marianna, arrives. She instantly gravitates toward me, claiming to be in love with my outfit.
If she’s anything like her brother-in-law, I’m sure he loves it too. I can feel him watching me, there’s something about his eyes that just tug at your attention.
Whoever the DJ is, I’m sure he’s never played a kids’ party before, as none of this music is kid friendly. But that doesn’t stop Mari and I from getting our sexy little grooves on together.
And we do so, much to the amusement of a small audience of older men in attendance who just wish they had the chance at either of us.
Paul can’t take his eyes off of me either. I move over to him and greet him with a hug that feels so inviting, and warm. I can tell his intentions grow more genuine with every embrace.
“You having fun per usual I see, you got that shit on too. I fuck with them shoes heavy.”
“Thank you.” I blush and try to control myself. I don’t want to seem too excited to be talking to him. Sometimes though, I just can’t help it. He’s such a sweetheart. But I can’t get caught up in him, so it’s best I just walk away before any of us get the wrong idea.
Newly 4-year-old Shakira and her kiddie friends have a section of the backyard to themselves where they are distracted by a painting lesson. And while they learn, the adults dance, drink, and eat around.
Jaheim has found his way around the buffet of food already and has pulled me to eat with him, from the one plate on which he put stuff for both of us to eat. He specifically got me a bowl of fruit, knowing I’d devour whatever piece of strawberry or grape he put on the plate anyway.
He bobs his head to the music playfully while feeding me a piece of jerk chicken. I open my mouth for him as he puts the piece of meat into it for me to chew.
“So, I went home with Matthew yesterday for lunch and he showed me a sex tape that him and Reagan have.” He signs and sucks his teeth.
“Here you go with the bullshit. Why you telling me this?” He shrugs.
“Because, that’s how I’m going to get her to fall back. You know that bitch is crazy, that’s why you started messing with her to begin with. You wanted her to make a spectacle of it so that I’d get jealous.” I correct him.
He just looks at me as if he’d rather not talk about it. And if that’s the case, I’d rather not tell him what he doesn’t care to know. He’ll probably run back and tell her ass about the tape existing. I shouldn’t even trust him to know this sensitive information.
I have no idea what he and I are really even doing to be honest. We are not back together, officially anyways. He doesn’t want to get “ into the specifics” of the situation until he knows more about the plan when it comes to this baby. But there’s really nothing for him to know.
He either wants to be here for me, or he doesn’t. At this point, I’ve told him that this child’s father will not be involved in their life. Even though I’m lying, he doesn’t know that. Why not just let the shit go then?
I wave him off and get up to see what the kiddos are up to. It’s my instinct to seek out little Shakira in hopes of siphoning more attention from Desmond. The trick is to not make it so apparent to anyone else’s eyes.
Moving up behind where she is carelessly splattering paint all over her canvas, I laugh at the wildness of her movement. As I squat down next to her, I’m careful to ensure no one can see up under my dress.
“Shakira, your painting looks so cute.” I encourage her. The little girl with the two space buns in her hair, looks up at me smiling as she moves her brush back and forth
She points at the canvas and then hands me her brush.
“Oh, okay.” I take it smiling.
There is a bit of space between each splotch of neon colored paint that’s been placed on the canvas. It is of great intersection to me, to connect the splotches together with a few pretty Ombré lines.
“Oooh.” She nods her head happily. “I like that one.” She points to the pink and purple line I added to the canvas.
Shakira reaches up to hug me with her tiny paint-covered hands. Hoping she hasn’t gotten any on my dress, I commit a quick search along my body and see nothing. Though, my hands are covered with color from my contact with the brush.
Desmond and Marie can be found talking amongst friends as I hesitantly approach the group, in order to inquire about a bathroom.
I’ve only been to this home once before, and don’t necessarily remember using the toilet last time I was here. Desmond locks eyes with me as I get closer to where he stands and it’s obvious he’s wondering what I’ve come over there to do.
“Excuse me”, The on-going conversation must be interrupted.
Maria turns to examine me.
“I don’t mean to be rude but, uh-I’d like to know where your bathroom is, and if I could use it to get this paint off my hands.” I turn on the charm.
She smiles.
“Of course, babe can you show her where the bathroom is? Desmond is going to take you.” She doesn’t even find out whether or not he actually cares to take me himself. She just demands he does.
He nods and acts as though he’s never had any sort of informal contact with me prior to this evening.
“Come on Amanda.” He takes his hand just a few inches away from the middle of my back to guide me into the house. He leads me up the stairs and around a corner, all the way to the end of a hall. Far away from any of the action downstairs.
He pulls me into the bathroom with him and wastes no time pressing his face against my own.
My desire is to push him away from me, and tell him that he has to help me figure this baby thing out. But this just doesn’t seem like the proper time or place for that conversation.
I kiss him back and then he moves lower onto my neck. His hands smooth their way down my body and then up my dress.
He’s trying to fuck me. Right here, in this bathroom, in his house, at his daughter’s birthday party. I won’t. I’m not that reckless or desperate.
“Nah. Not here.” I move away from him. And pull my dress back down.
He laughs and wraps his arms back around me, he feathers kisses along my face and jaw.
“What’s up with you then? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were were trying to catch my eye all night.” He starts with a strong sense of satisfaction in his voice.
I roll my eyes and scoff at the irresponsibility of his statement. Moving back toward the sink to wash my hands, I ignore him.
“Oh it’s like that? You come to my house with another nigga and act like you can’t speak?” He pushes up onto me.
I look up into his eyes through the above-sink mirror.
“No I can’t, since you can’t either. I reached out to you days ago. But I guess unless it has to do with you sticking your dick inside of me, it doesn’t matter right?” I shrug him off and he rests his arms at both sides of me on the sink. He places tiny kisses on my shoulder.
I throw my behind back to push him away from me and turn around to dry my hands on one of the folded cloth napkins.
He leans back against the windowsill. His ring-wearing finger taps against the slim marble slab.
“What did you want to talk about? I’m sorry. I keep that phone tucked away in a safe for obvious reasons. By the time I looked at it, I figured I’d just see you when you got over here.” He points toward me in a “look, see” sort of manner.
“Whatever.” He snickers coming back closer to me.
“Stop acting like that. What’s wrong? What did you need to talk to me about?” He takes my face in his hands again.
I stare into his eyes and I can feel that strangeness again. It’s a feeling that is kind of uncomfortable, almost like a tightening between my legs. There’s a wetness there that I don’t necessarily like the sensation of.
He pecks my lips and pulls away to look into my eyes again.
“Tell me what’s wrong baby?” He whispers again.
“It’s nothing wrong… I just wanted to see you.” I can’t have this conversation with him right now. It wouldn’t be right to drop this on him today, at his daughter’s birthday party..
He kisses my neck and moves my body back again, to lean against the sink.
Our encounter progresses to the point of my panties being lowered to wrap around my ankles. My figure is spun around and my head is pushed forward so that I’m folded over the counter.
I can hear him undoing his pants quickly and it’s an entertaining sound, I must be honest. He’s so desperate. Moving like he’s in such a rush to get to me, he can’t contain himself. It’s almost as if the second he saw me, his mind automatically drifted to this very moment. I’m sure of it.
He finds his way back into me and lets out a small sigh of relief. His body folds forward against my own as he places a kiss in the center of my back, maintaining the rhythmic back and forth movement of his hips.
He stares into my eyes through the mirror and reaches forward to grab a hold of my neck. I don’t think it’s to choke me, or make this rougher than it needs to be, though. I think it’s helping him steady himself against me as he makes these wild motions.
“You brought that nigga over here for what?” He asks without stopping.
He adjusts his stance and starts hitting a different angle which causes me to squeal in a manner different from any other before. His hand moves to cover my mouth, his unorthodox method of interrogation continues.
“You fucking him?” There’s a sudden pinch at my hips.
“No.” I wrap my hand around his wrist and throw my head forward, as I am unable to hold myself up anymore.
“Don’t.” He warns me before picking up the pace a bit to finish on my behind. I can feel the warm sticky fluid starting to roll down the back of my thigh when I reach for the roll of tissue.
As he fixes himself up, I break off a big enough piece that he takes from my hand. I’m turned back around for him to wipe his stain off.
“Thanks.” I whisper unsure of what else to say. Last time felt much better. I think I actually came. This time, I’m just left feeling like a whore. He just came into the bathroom, demanded I relay an old message that he didn’t care to not miss the first time, and turned me around to fuck me.
I stare around at the warming bathroom to study its aesthetic. All earth tones. There’s a dark green shower curtain with a bath mat to match. Gold accent pieces dress the space letting me know neither of his kids are probably allowed to be in here. Baskets of beige puffy towels and washcloths, for guests I presume, sit neatly rolled up on a two tier standing rack.
“Mhmm. So uh, you on birth control or some shit like that right?” The question comes seemingly from nowhere. What a wonderful time to ask.
He pulls my panties back up for me and taps my ass as he smooths them out against my dhape. I adjust my dress and turn around to look at him.
“No, why do you ask?” I play into my “naïveté” about sex. He knows I was a virgin when this first started.
His expression changes slightly and I can tell he’s trying to keep his composure.
“No reason, just wondering… you been okay though? Your brother said you were sick not too long ago. You seem to be feeling better?” He knows. He may even be in a bit in denial, but he’s going to stay that way for now.
“Yep, I’m better. Listen, I’m going to get back out there. I’ll uh, see you when I see you I guess.” I’m stopped from moving and his forehead meets mine.
He closes his eyes and I’m left analyzing feel his warm, pillowy breaths. I move my body closer to his, wanting to feel some of the same closeness I felt the last time we were together.
“I’m not trying to play you or hurt you Amanda. This is just a fucked up situation is all, you know that. Don’t think of me as that guy that’s going to yank you around. I don’t usually sleep with the same woman more than once. With you it’s been different. I don’t know how to navigate this situation yet.”
I shrug.
“No one said you had to. We good. Just stay away from me like you’ve been doing.” I wave him off and walk out with an attitude to leave him wondering.
Back outside, Jaheim has gotten in on a game of Spades in which, my brother is his partner. Woah, I never would’ve expected to see some shit like this.
They look like they are actually having a good time together. And though I want to leave, I don’t want to ruin their vibe. I hug Jaheim from behind to sweeten him up.
“I don’t want to mess up you guys’ game. I’m trying to go lay down though. You want to ride back with my brother so I can take your whip to the house?” I ask hoping he’ll oblige.
“Go straight home.” He pulls his keys out of his pocket and puts them in my hand.
“Thank you baby.”
He kisses me on the lips quickly.
“Love you. Text me when you get to the house.”
“I will. See you at home brodie.” I move around the table to smack the back of his neck. He pats my hip with the back of his hand to push me away, remaining focused on his cards the whole time.
“Not cool.” I laugh at his reaction. His white side has certainly come out to play.
Moving further away from the front of the house, I start to walk down the street where Jaheim is parked so that we wouldn’t get blocked in. And I’m followed out by a reckless, and very irresponsible, Desmond.
What the fuck is his problem? His wife is here, his teammates are here. My brother and boyfriend, are also both here.
“Go back in the house, what the hell is wrong with you?” He grabs me and pulls me further away from the house in the direction I was already walking in.
Completely unaware of what’s going on, I smack him and push him away from me.
“Stop.” I warn him.
He pulls away and raises his hands as if to show me he’s not a threat.
“What are you mad about? Come on Mandy.” He reaches for me again.
“Mandy? That’s not my name.” I check him and walk off toward the car.
He stays put.
“I can’t have you mad at me Amanda. What do you want from me? Tell me and you got it?” He sounds sincere.
Why is he so worried about me though? Am I all he’s got going for himself beside his career and his kids? All of that is great but deep down, I think we all need love, and we all desire someone who’s loyal, and will remain loyal.
Is that what he thinks I am? Or what I will be?
Leaning back against the side of the car, my arms rest laced just against the front of my thighs. He comes closer to me with a beggar’s look in his eyes as he pleads, desperate.
“I already got a wife that won’t speak to me… I don’t need that from you too. You played like you liked me?” He holds both of my hands.
He’s certainly a slick one.
“I don’t like being ignored. I don’t move on your time only. You don’t just get to fuck on me and go about your business, I’m not a human blow up doll. I won’t let you treat me like one.”
He rests his hands on my cheeks to kiss me on the lips twice. This is dangerous. It’s foolishly reckless.
“It’s not even like that.” He kisses me again. “I tell you what, come by here tomorrow at 5, I need you to watch the kids, for real. Maria is leaving to go see some family in New York and I have a photoshoot at 7.” He tells me.
A photoshoot? Who the fuck does he think he is?
“I’m busy.”
“Doing what?”
“It’s none of your business.”
He nods and pulls out his wallet. He takes out five, hundred-dollar bills.
“Here.” Should I consider this my first child support payment?
“What is this for? I’m not watching your kids.” I hold my stance.
“Please baby?” He kisses my lips again and again. Damn, he smells and tastes so good. He leaves another kiss on my right cheek. “I’ll have something special for you afterward. I promise.” His arms snake around my waist. I hang my arms on his shoulders while he continues to kiss down the side of my neck.
“Okay.” I don’t know when it happened, or why? But despite how much of a hard time I give this man, I feel like in the end I’m always going to say yes to him.
Engagement