Sure—T
Wiping my face with my sleeve again for the millionth time today,I pocket my phone and I sit down at the bus stop. I told Chiamaka to meet me at this ice-cream joint in my neighborhood so she didn’t just turn up at my house. I push away all the feelings that keep coming back, sealing them shut in one of the boxes in my mind for later, when I have the time to think about my pa and Dre.
Right now, what matters most is Niveus.
34
CHIAMAKA
Tuesday
I meet Devon in a rundown ice-cream bar in his neighborhood.
The place is practically deserted, apart from this random guy in the corner drinking coffee and reading a newspaper. Devon arrives after me, looking as tired as he did last night. Eyes red, hair messy, sullen expression on his face.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey,” he replies.
I push myself up. “Still heading to your place?” I ask, slightly hopeful that he’s changed his mind and doesn’t mind walking all the way back to my house.
He nods, much to my disappointment, as we start walking out of the place.
I follow him down the path, taking in the surroundings. The houses are small and unkept, some with smashed-in windows and graffiti on the walls.
This place looks like the aftermath of an apocalypse.
We reach a house with a red door and a large63front and center.I wait for Devon to take out his keys, but instead he knocks, and I raise an eyebrow.
Why would he knock on his own front door?
I hear a sound from inside the house, and I instinctively step back. There’s a sharp turn of a lock, and then the door swings open, revealing a smiley four-eyed stranger with brown skin and short dreads tied back, making his head look a bit like a pineapple. His gaze goes from Devon to me to Devon again.
There’s an awkward tension in the air.
Devon steps in and disappears, walking past the stranger without a word.
There’s definitely something I’m missing here. Several somethings.
“Hey, I’m Terrell!” the stranger says.
“Chiamaka…,” I say.
He smiles wider. “I know, come on in.”
The guy moves aside to let me in, and I pause, hoping Devon hasn’t led me into a death trap. I step over some of the weeds by the entrance and walk in, through his hallway and into a small living room. The TV is on silent and some cartoon is playing. The place makes me feel claustrophobic; there’s hardly enough space to breathe properly.
Devon is sitting on one of the old-looking sofas. I take a seat next to him on the edge.
Terrell walks in and picks up the remote from the coffee table, turning the TV off.
“Welcome to my humble abode. You guys want anything? I went to the grocery store before you came, so there’s a bunch of stuff if you want, kitchen’s that way—”
“Wait, Devon, you said we were going to your place. Who is he and why are we having our meeting here?” I interrupt, growing more annoyed.
“Terrell’s my friend, he knows everything, and he’s good at figuring stuff out. I thought it wouldn’t hurt for him to help us plan. My house isn’t really guest friendly anyway,” Devon replies. Whatever that means.
If he’d just told me that, we could have gone back to my place.
