Lamar Anderson:Yeah, of course. Everything cool? We’re still on for this weekend, right? I’m sending the car for you.
With everything going on, I had forgotten about that.
Jazmyn Payne:Yes. Call me when you get home from practice.
“Hello?” I answered later that night when Lamar called.
“You okay?” he asked.
“It’s… I just need to talk to you in person.”
I could hear him freeze. “What’s wrong?”
Panic swept through me.
My face heated, the hair stood up on the back of my neck, and I instantly felt clammy. I sucked in a sharp breath and my throat tightened. I was having a visceral reaction.
I did not want to tell him.
It wasn’t because I believed those things. It wasn’t because I thoughthebelieved those things. It was because of Chance. All I could think about was the way public opinion swayed at the popular girls’ whim. How even those people who had been interested in getting to know me or who thought I’d be cool hadn’t wanted to associate with me in public because of how it would impact them socially.
And if I were being honest with myself, I was scared to find out what Lamar would do under similar conditions with even more of that pressure.
“Jazz?” he called.
I wasn’t sure how long I’d been silent.
“There’s stuff being said on social media about us,” I blurted. “But in particular, they are attacking me because they’re infatuated with you.”
“What? Who’s attacking you?”
The rough edge in his tone tugged a small yet brief smile out of me.
“Have you not seen the posts and videos on social media?” I asked nervously. “Well, that’s what it is. Just a lot of attention coming my way.”
“No, I haven’t seen anything. But I’m sorry about that. I know you don’t like a lot of attention.”
“Yeah.” I paused. “I can’t do it.”
We were both quiet for a moment.
“I understand,” he uttered.
There was so much I could feel he wasn’t saying in his silence. But I didn’t want to ask, because in turn, he would inquire about what I wasn’t saying in mine.
“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about tomorrow?” he wondered.
“That’s the overall theme.”
He was quiet, waiting. “Jazz, talk to me. You know I got you, right? You know you can tell me anything.”
I nodded, clutching the phone. “Yeah,” I whispered.
A few seconds passed, and when I didn’t elaborate, he sighed. “It was a long practice, and I need to get in the house and get me something to eat. Hit me up before you go to bed.”
A heaviness blanketed me, and I couldn’t shake it. “I’m going to bed now.”
“Jazz…”
