He turns away from me, wiping his face with his sleeve. I feel another pang, but I ignore it. I can’t let myself lose sight of what’s important.
Cry, Dre, I’m not gonna judge you for crying.
“If that’s what you do to the people you love, I’m glad this is done.”
He shakes his head, still turned away. “I was thinking about surviving, and those people at your school saying things. If I lose this, I lose everything—but if you lose me, you still have everything.”
Why doesn’t he get that he’s a huge chunk of everything?
I look around the room, how dark and cold it is—drugs on the table, some I know he’s locked away in the drawers. I wish he didn’t find comfort in temporary highs. I want to tell him that his path could be something different, but I’d be lying. He makes a lot doing this. It helps him survive.
He was so happy when he made enough to rent this place, and I just want him to be happy, even though I wish he was doing something less dangerous.
A draft of wind from an open window makes the room feel even colder. Dre and I are over; I knew that when he told me to get out last week, when his boys beat me up, and more so now that he can’t even look at me, but I’m so used to being with him, it feels impossible to let go.
His tense shoulders drop, then rise, and he turns, the tears I saw earlier gone.
“Can I kiss you goodbye?” I say, thinking of Terrell and his goodbye hugs. Andre gives me a look like it’s starting to dawn on him what goodbye means for us.
The wind pushes him toward me, only slightly.
“Yeah, of course,” he says softly. I ignore my gut, screaming at me to leave, to not kiss a boy who hurt me so badly, but my heart was always stronger than my gut. I inch forward with hesitation, my forehead resting against his as I breathe in his scent. I once asked Dre what cologne he used, and I remember how he smiled and told me “sweat,” which was BS. I wish I knew now. I want to be surrounded by it after this kiss; I don’t want to walk away from it. Dre’s arms pull me in, our noses touching, then our lips. He’s pulling me in so close it hurts, like he’s trying to fuse our bodies together. My heart is steady somehow, but the rest of me is shaky.
We break apart, but I’m still trapped inside his arms. I rest my head on his shoulder, breathing slowly, trying not to think about when I’ll have to move away, wave, and leave. For good.
Don’t lose focus.
But I did. I was going to leave without telling him that I need one or two small jobs, just to help Ma out. I look up.
His face, tearstained and wet, surprises me. It surprises me even more that he lets me reach up and wipe the tears away.
“Really gonna miss your company, Devon,” he tells me.
“Me too.”
I still stand here in this cocoon, waiting for him to pull back. But he doesn’t. I know I’m gonna regret this someday—maybe even moments from now—but I’m not ready to let go just yet, and I can feel him releasing his arms, and that scares the shit out of me, and soI kiss him again. He stops and pulls me close again, and even though my heart is rattling like I just ran a mile, I let him guide me backward slowly, like he’s done many times before.
Future Devon is shaking his head, watching as the back of my knees hit Dre’s bed, then how I quickly scoot back toward the cold pillows, finally breaking the kiss to pull my hoodie over my head. But I ignore future-me’s judgment.
Dre looks like he wants to speak, tell me to go home or say we shouldn’t be doing something like this. I can hear his thoughts racing. He’s overthinking this, like I would be if I didn’t keep pushing the feeling back. His thoughts are screaming, but then as if swallowed by a vacuum, there is complete silence. All worry disappears and all that matters is right now, not the future versions of us that might regret this, just present Andre and me, who both want to do this, kiss the pain away for a little while.
Dre moves off the bed and goes over to the drawer in his desk, pulling out some condoms. I look away from him now and up at the ceiling, listening to the sound of the rain hitting the windows and the wind angrily crying out, letting it drown my thoughts.
His weight tilts the bed as he leans over me and joins our lips together again.
I want this moment to last as long as it can; I want to be here with him for as long as I can.
Like always he’s gentle, and considerate, making me feel special, kissing me all over. And then, when we are finally done and I’m in his arms, I let myself cry.
I’m aware that I completely lost focus on what I came here for. But he probably would’ve said no anyway.
He kisses my shoulder blades and hugs me close, and I know that soon I’ll have to get up, put my clothes on, and say goodbye—face my other issues, like Ma struggling and Aces. But for now, I want to close my eyes, listen to the sound of the rain and Dre’s breathing, and drown.
20
CHIAMAKA
Tuesday
