I had about two more hours before I needed to leave. Morgan had invited me back to her place, and although I should have declined, something about Shorty made me say yes. When we reached her neighborhood, I felt uneasy. It was one thing to stop by Bop’s, but this shit was different. It wasn’t just sixteen blocks of run-down streets; it was all high-end white people shit. Besides Bop, Clark, Naheem, and Symphony, I hadn’t been around these kinds of neighborhoods or people like this.
Morgan led me around the side of the house, and once we reached the backyard, my mouth dropped open. I looked at Morgan as she smiled brightly. “Come on.”
There was a guest house as big as the main house. I thought my feet were moving, but clearly, they weren’t. Morgan came toward me, grabbed my hand, and led me to the house. “Don’t let it intimidate you,” she said.
When we entered her space, a nigga didn’t even want to sit down in fear I would mess up her all-white couch. She moved around as if I knew the ins and outs of her home. “Are you hungry or thirsty? I mean, I don’t have food in the fridge because I eat out a lot, but I can order something.”
As my eyes surveyed her home, I responded. “I’m cool. I won’t be here long. I got some business to handle.”
She waved her hand in my face to get my attention. “It’s just a house. Relax. My parents didn’t want me to leave the nest yet,so they gave me the guest house. Which means it’s mine, my space, I can do what I want, so again, relax.”
My eyes lowered to hers. Morgan was beautiful, from her smile to her eyes. Her skin was a perfect shade of dark brown, her frame was flawless, and her short stature was every tall nigga’s dream. I knew whatever nigga was dealing with her wasn’t about to let her go easily. I realized any chance I had with her was dead because a nigga like me, at this stage of my life, couldn’t meet all her needs. It was almost bittersweet knowing the space I shared with someone as beautiful as Morgan wouldn’t last long. Her thumb stroked my sore nose. “Let me get something for this. You can sit down, my couch won’t bite, but I will.” She winked as she disappeared into the back.
My lips curled into a quick smile as I walked over and sat on the couch as she requested. Little mama had everything you could imagine in this muhfucka. If it were the old me, her place would be empty by the time she woke up, but a nigga was trying to be different, no matter how desperate I was for money.
My phone vibrated repeatedly. I thought it was Keith trying to meet up before he headed back to campus, but when I saw who it was, my stomach dropped twice as hard. One was from Naheem, telling me he wanted to meet tonight, while the other was from Beans, reminding me not to forget about tomorrow. Not to mention, I had a curfew at the halfway house, and it was one I knew I couldn’t miss. “Fuck,” I mumbled.
“What’s wrong?” I heard Morgan’s voice as I fumbled with my phone, trying to put it away.
I ran my hand through my hair. “Life. I told you already the shit I got going on is something you wouldn’t understand.”
She came over and placed the warm towel on my nose. “Like I told you, try me. How about this, I tell you something I’m going through, and you tell me something. Deal?”
“Why do you care?”
She shrugged as she leaned forward, grabbing a pretty pink box. When she opened it, there was weed, blunt wraps, and a lighter. “I know what it’s like needing someone to talk to. You don’t have to tell me anything, but know I’m here if you need me,” she paused as she glanced at me. “To talk to, that is. I don’t think you need me for anything else. Besides, if I were offering to be there for you that way, you couldn’t handle it.”
I let out a loud laugh. “Shorty, please, just because I said I don’t want to tell you shit, don’t mean I—”
“Doesn’t mean, but keep going.”
I nodded her way. “Ok, Rich Girl,doesn’tmean I’m not with all the shits. I see you smoke, but can you handle what you’re smoking? I see you play video games too; can you ball niggas up on 2K? Those are the questions I want answered.” I finished.
The giggle she let out was cute. This girl was the complete opposite of Porsha, and I wondered how they even ended up in the same space. Morgan walked over toward her desk, where a big, curved monitor sat. She had the whole area set up, from the chair to all the whatnots, creating the perfect gaming-girl aesthetic. She picked up a pink controller. “I don’t play 2k. I’ve gotten into this fantasy game.”
My face frowned at her. “Like some Zelda type shit?” I asked, confused.
She laughed again, which made me want to say something funny because the shit was so cute. “Um, let me show you. It’s crazy because it’s so realistic. So, my avatar is Princess Shira. The coolest part of this game is that the characters are Black, even though they are mystical creatures, they're still Black.”
I watched her as she kept explaining the game to me. She pulled up another chair next to hers. Morgan definitely stoodout, but maybe that’s exactly what a broken nigga like me needed. Still, if she truly understood how deeply I was involved in a real-world game outside, she would definitely run off scared.
PAIGE
I finally stepped into my mother’s house after lingering on the porch, trying to steady my emotions before going inside. My mother had always been intuitive about sensing when something was wrong, and today I didn’t have the energy to explain. All I wanted was to gather my remaining belongings before returning to campus. This time, I wouldn't come back until Christmas break.
My mother and Tuesday’s mother were sitting in the living room watching TV. I appreciated that my mom now had someone to spend time with, since none of us lived at home. Pierre had found his special someone, Leek would soon be out, and I was still trying to figure out where I fit in. With a major in Psychology and a group of friends who only wanted to talk about the same things we've discussed many times, it was starting to feel unfulfilling.
My mother approached me and hugged me. “Are you heading back?” she asked.
I slowly nodded. “Yeah. Got to get back and study before class on Monday.”
“You're leaving early, Paige. You can study here tonight.”
“I’ll be fine, Mom, I promise.”
She smiled brightly. “Well, payment will be a little late this month. Let me know if they make a fuss. Either way, I will handle it. I don’t want you to worry. I need you to stay focused. This is your last year.”
Another month of this, and I couldn’t take it. Little did she know, I was already making small payments and had just gotten myself an apartment, but keeping all that together was hard enough. My brother paid my rent for the year. However, I refused to ask Pierre for anything else. They already treated me like a kid, and to keep asking for handouts only made it worse. I’ve been making my way and would continue to. I didn’t want to put the pressure on my mother, who was already doing what she could, but being a broke bitch wasn’t fun at all.
