Today we aren’t conjoined twins—just normal ones. We argued over the streaks I left on the dishes and she ate a bowl of grits while we sang to “All For You” from the video Ace told me to record for her. She’s not stuck today.
“Somebody who knows your bonus son.” I smile.
The words feel as right as his mouth on my skin.
“Lord,” she rasps. “What that boy up to now? Angie got her hands full.”
Jazmine laughs without pointing out the obviousness of Angie being gone. My tongue is heavy because I want to have her call up Ace for me so I can curse him out, scream at him, and ask him why I don’t feel bad for that girl back in Los Angeles anymore.
“Just lead the way and I’ll take it from here,” Jazmine says, pushing her stubby arm out.
I nod until she holds up a finger.
“Oh yeah. Junior said he left something in your backpack?” Her voice hikes up. “He didn’t say wha—”
“She’s down the hallway to the left.”
I don’t even do the polite thing and show her the way because I need to get to that backpack. I need to feel him, even if it’s through whatever he left in it.
When I round the corner to my bedroom, Marshall’s old backpack sits at the foot of my bed where I tripped over it. I scoop it up by the top handle and unzip it, pulling out the clothes I wore to Ace’s condo and the dress I wore to the gala until I get to a piece of sleek fabric folded at the bottom.
I yank it out, hold it up, and then shove the bathing suit to my nose.
I try to inhale any piece of himself he might’ve snuck in that bag, but it makes my stomach twist harder. Whoever said absence made the heart grow fonder didn’t take girls like me into account. We’re the confused ones who don’t even know our bodies well enough to understand how to make them stop humming for grown men we think we can catch up to. We don’t want absence. We want presence.
I drop the bathing suit and fumble with my phone, because I can feel him wherever he is. It’s a gift and a curse of being a Pavlov girl.
@babyphat04
Fuck that girl. How you let her on our planet and she ain’t know that the first rule is that you get whatever you want? I created a monster. Not you.
I refresh and refresh with big eyes and burning fingertips like he wants until I see it.
@AceWilliamsJr
‘Cause she was just visiting. You know all lifelong residents belong to me. Log off before I take this stupid bird app away for good.
I already feel the throbbing between my legs from his warning. It’s another thing I don’t think I’m supposed to like—a man that spends too much time obsessing over everything I do.
* * *
“Damn,”Bryson chokes out behind our screen door in swim trunks and a tank. “Marcus got a raise at work?”
“Mind your business.” I smile, shuffling from foot to foot in my two-piece and sarong.
There was even a matching scarf folded at the bottom of my backpack. I tied it around my braids like I saw Dough’s girlfriend do with hers in another magazine spread that revolved around her style. Mama hooted and hollered afterward talking about it was the “finishing touch” to the bestTarjayoutfit she’d ever seen while Jazmine took her blood pressure. Never mind the Dior logo printed all over the swimsuit.
Red creeps up Bryson’s cheeks and he flings the screen door open, but I step forward.
“What you doing? I wanna see Mama before we go,” he says.
“She sleeping.”
“But I hear he—”
“That’s the TV. Marcus’ friend back there sitting with her.”
He smacks his lips. “Man, why you playing? Let me see Mama.”
