raised the hairs on the back of my neck.
I don’t think I was ever able to place it before now. It’s an arrogance, a smugness that has always kept me at bay. I can be distant, but I’m also observant. Pieces begin to fit together, and those red flags start to fly high.
“Like you’re not getting your dick wet plenty—”
I can’t. I can’t hear another word. I may not be in love with Darius, but I’ve been committed to him. I’ve given him a chance as my father demanded. When my father suggested I move in with Darius, I did it because Papi thought it was a good idea.
“You will do this. It’s for the future. You understand,” my father had said.
“Yes, I do.”
Now, I question myself and my father. I’ve had this feeling in the last few weeks. Before I thought it was all my lack of control. Instantly I know it was my bullshit meter going off.
I’m so pissed, I don’t bother to go get my things. Fuck it. Darius paid for them. It’s not my loss. I can go shopping again with my own money. I’d prefer it that way.
My phone rings as I step out of the house. I lift a hand to signal for my car as I pull the device from my bag. I don’t know the number and nearly ignore it, but nagging in the pit of my stomach causes me to answer.
“Hello.”
“Hello, is this Cherone Pérez?” the person on the other end says.
“This is she.”
“Ma’am. You were listed as the next of kin for Eliam Pérez.”
“Okay… that’s my father.”
“I’m sorry to have to inform you he has passed. Would you be able to come and identify the body?”
My father may be a cold man, but he’s my father. I love him despite his inability to show me love. My grandmother once told me I would become like him if I wasn’t careful. Cold and guarded.
I wish I could be cold at this moment. As the woman on the phone’s words sinks in, I start to feel alone in this world. My grandmother passed last year. It has only been my father and me. I have an aunt, but she doesn’t come to visit much. I’ve never really gotten to know her.
I have no one. The reality of my loss, and now, my loneliness chills my bones as the woman’s words replay in my ear. He’s gone. This can’t be real.
The weight of the truth presses down on me. A breeze passes by and something about her words ring with a hollow truth. I faint.
John
“I think we should talk,” Missy says.
I stand staring out the window of Missy’s apartment, my mind telling me to slow down and evaluate some things around me. This arrangement I’m in being one of them. Between work and family shit, I haven’t given much thought to it.
Well, not until recently. Something has changed. I’m questioning everything about my life.
This shit ever get old to you?
Wyatt’s words have been ringing in my head for days now. Yeah, this is getting old. Not just old but draining and disheartening.
I’ve avoided looking at the real reasons for the way I am. There are two factors that I’ve allowed myself to consider over the last few days. One of which most people wouldn’t expect. Honestly, I’d never say it out loud.
My mind takes me back to my teenage years. The first time I craved control and dominance. That can happen when you feel used.
“Have you seen John today?” I overheard Lauren the eleventh grader I was dating say from around the corner of her house.
“God, he’s so gorgeous,” one of her friends gushed.
I couldn’t help but smile. It was no secret that girls found me and my brothers attractive. I reached for the handle of the gate to enter the backyard and let myself be known. However, I froze with the words of another of her friends.
“I still can’t believe you’re dating a ninth grader.”
“Come on, like you don’t know I’m dating him to make Billy jealous.” Lauren laughed.
“I still think it’s mean,” a third friend said, it had to be Allison from the sound of the voice.
“How? He gets to tell all his friends that he’s getting into an eleventh grader’s pants, he gets regular blow jobs, I get amazing sex, and Billy has been losing his shit. It’s a win for everyone if you ask me.”
“John’s sweet. You’re using him like some toy because he’s pretty and Billy’s afraid of