Fitting In (Is Hard to Do) Semester 1

“Hola mameee.” I laugh every time Quincy tries to speak Spanish.

  “No suena bien tratando de hablar español.”

  “Huh?”

  “Hey Quincy… Your Spanish is horrible.” I look over and see Roman. “Heey, Ro.”

  “What’s up with that?”

  “What’s up with what, Quincy?”

  “You open the door with attitude and just say, hey Quincy your Spanish is horrible, but you had to sing Ro’s greeting! Heeeey Roooo!”

  I laugh. It felt weird seeing everybody after so long. I mean we Skype every now and then, but when I left, in my mind I had no intentions of coming back. This whole place is a joke. My so-called friends… are the biggest joke of them all. Look at Quincy now, all up in my face skinning and grinning. “Quincy, ain’t nobody even say it like that.” I took the scrunchie I wore on my arm like a bracelet and put my hair up in a quick bun. “Where you guys coming from?”

  “Nowhere, really. Was just at the park chillin’ with Symphony. You know she mad at you for not showing up to her little practice thing again.” Roman said.

  I shake my head as I close the screen door and stand on the stoop. “Ain’t nobody thinking about her, she is out there dang near every day, practicing. That’s just extra stuff. I told her I was thinking about quitting, anyway.” I just got back and already Symphony’s trying to control somebody like she owns them. I have more important things to do besides jumping up and down and trying to cheer somebody on. It was cool in the past years because I wanted to be on the sideline cheering Q on… but not now.

  “She ain’t goin’ like to hear that.”

  I shrug my shoulders to Roman’s comment as Quincy stands close to me. “Forget all that. Won’t you come through Symph’s house?”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. So we can chill.”

  “Hunter!” My mother yells from inside the house.

  “What!” She doesn’t answer back. “Mami, what!” Still no answer so I don’t worry about it. I answer Quincy’s question instead. “It depends on if I can get out or not.”

  “You’ve been gone for a whole year, Hunter. Since you been back, we still ain’t have no chill time.” Quincy whispered in my ear so that Roman couldn’t hear.

  “I know. I’ve just been so busy, moving back home, that’s all. But you know I’ve been thinking about you the whole time.” I pick through a couple of Quincy’s dreads and wonder who he was chilling with the whole time I was gone.

  “You betta. You bet not have been with no otha’ nigga.” And if I was? I look over at Roman whose too busy texting than to think about what we’re saying.

  “Please, that was the last thing on my mind.” Quincy pulls me in for a kiss and I let him without hesitation. I don’t know why. It seemed like the normal thing to do. When people say Jaylen, you automatically think of Spirit. When people say Roman, you automatically think of Symphony. And when people say Quincy, you’re going to automatically think of me. That’s just the way it was.

  “I’m about to leave you two lovebirds and swing by the crib right quick.”

  “Adios!” I said with the quickness. Wasn’t nobody thinking about Roman. He was probably sitting there texting Symphony the whole time. So, who cares? Go be with her. Quincy and I stand on the stoop making out with each other until one of my twin brother’s come to the door.

  “Eww! I’m tellin’!”

  Next thing I know, my mother is calling me to come in the house, saying it was time for Quincy to go home. Ugh! He just got here. I kissed Quincy goodbye one last time and go back into the house with much attitude.

  “Hunter! My mother hollers again. “Get started on those dishes!”

  I hated doing the dishes. Not that I was lazy but after dinner is a mess. People walk around all day snacking and drinking. Each time, my brothers are grabbing a different cup. After dinner, no one wants to empty their plates! “Mami! Why can’t the twins help me?” I look at the mounds of dirty dishes invading the sink and I want to disappear. The dinner table is still plagued with dishes with scraps of food because no one wants to empty them into the garbage.

  My mother is yelling at the boys to come and help me with the kitchen but of course, they’re not moving. They’re too busy thinking about their full bellies and video games. I wash about four plates when I notice that neither one of them has come to help and my mother forgot about making them.

  I turn the water off and stump to their room, “Get up!” I yell at them as if I were their mother.

  “Hold on!”

  “No! Come on and help me with the kitchen.” I wait a few seconds. “Now! If I can’t have fun, then you can’t either!” I tell both of them.

  “Dead all that… we’ll be there when we get done with our game.”

  “Mami, tell them to come on!”

  My mother comes into the room with Josiah wrapped in a towel. “Go help your sister.”

  “Okay!” Their mouths agreed, but they didn’t bulge one inch.

  I reach over and mess with Josiah’s piggies. “Did you have a good bath?”

  “Hunter, he’s three months old, he doesn’t know what you’re talking about.” My mother leaves out of the room and my brothers are still playing the game. I walk over closer to the electrical plug and fake as if I tripped pulling the plug from the socket. The TV and the whole game system goes black. For a moment, I think they were in complete shock because it was dead silence. Suddenly, the twins lunge at me. I take off running towards the kitchen.

  “I’m going to kill you!” They both shout in unison.

  “Now you know how I feel… tattletale that!”

  ♥♥♥

  As the twins were finishing the last of the dishes, I was wiping the kitchen table off when my cell vibrated in my pocket. I look at my cell and didn’t recognize the number. Normally when that happens, I press ignore and keep it moving. But this time, against my better judgment, I answer.

  “Hello?”

  “So it’s true.”

  “Who is this?” I take the phone away from my ear and study the number again. Nope, no recollection.

  “It’s been a minute, so I’ma let you get a pass on that one.”

  As soon as I hear the laugh, I know exactly who it was. My cell slips through my fingers and I catch it just in time before it crashes to its death. “No!” I scream out as I look at the call slowly fading away as my fingers slide off the end button. Ohmigosh he’s going to think I hung up on him! It’s not as if I wanted to talk to him because I didn’t. He’s just not the kind of guy you hang up on.

  I hand the dishcloth to my youngest brother, Jordan, and tell him to finish with the table. “Hecks naw! You better not leave!” Joey yells as he places a dish into the dish rack.

  “Right! You said help you, we not doing it for you!”

  “Justin, shut up! Just give me a second!”

  I go into my room and close the door. Pacing back and forth, I contemplate on calling him back. I consider the consequences and repercussion of doing both. In my head quickly, I’m thinking, if I call him back, he might believe I didn’t hang up on him. But then I’d have to have a conversation with him and he’ll probably ask me all these annoying questions-”

  My cell rings before I had a chance to fully figure out what I should do. I hesitantly press the send button and answer.

  “Did we get disconnected? Or did you hang up on a nigga?”

  “N-No…”

  “No what? Because see I’m having a hard time believing that ma’ girl would hang up on me? You still ma’ girl right?” He laughs his laugh again and I’m feeling really intimidated at the moment.

  I try to take a deep breath all the while I’m praying this conversation will end abruptly. “Y-Yea, I’m still ya girl.” I try to laugh a little myself and play it off as if I’m not the least bit scared of him. “My fingers accidentally hung the phone up… my bad. You know I wouldn’t intentionally hang up on you!”

  “I’d like to think not. Y
ou’ve been home for a minute now. How come you ain’t got at me?”

  “Huh?”

  “Hunt, sweetie, I’m a busy man. I ain’t got time to play games like you ain’t hear a nigga, now c’mon, babes.”

  “I didn’t have your number.”

  “Well, you have it now. Lock that shit in and don’t be afraid to use it. Matt-o-fact, you better use it.” He laughs again. It’s never a laugh like something is funny. More of a taunting laugh. “Anyways, Hunt?”

  “Yes?”

  “You got anything you want to tell me, babes?”

  “Huh?” I correct myself before he does it for me. “I mean, like what?” I can feel the sweat pouring from my armpits.

  “You tell me, sweetie. I’m sure you know better than I do.”

  I had no idea what he was talking about. “What? That I missed you?” I really didn’t I was glad he was out of my life. I hated to be talking to him now.

  “I dunno, did you?”

  “Yes.” I lied. “Did you miss me?” I hated myself for even letting that flow from my lips.

  “I can show you betta’ than I can tell you. We’ll hook up soon, but lata for all that… right now I got some business that I need you to handle for me. Think you can do that?”

  “Patrón, you know all you gotta do is ask.”

  “That’s my nena.”

  6 CHAPTER SIX

  ROMAN DAVIS

  Solitude

  Loneliness expresses the pain of being alone and solitude expresses the glory of being alone.

  ~Paul Tillich