Committed to You (5 page)

Was she really that upset with the kiss or had she been planning to leave earlier?

“You’re not going to say anything are you?” Jay whispered.

Evie’s phone rang for the tenth time tonight. She darted around Jay and checked her phone on the dresser. “It’s my mom again. Probably trying to figure out the exact location of my ass so that she could put her foot in it.”

“What do you want to talk about Evie?” Jay didn’t face her. Anger glazed over his expression.

She ran her fingers through her hair. “You already said it.”

“You want to break up with Cynthia and me over a damn kiss?”

“No, and it doesn’t really matter why, we said this would be temporary.”

“No, you said that.”

“It doesn’t matter. This was never going to be a long-time relationship.”

“Why not?”

“Because, it doesn’t make sense.”

“You’re the only one confused.” He marched off into the bathroom. The door slammed behind him. Evie avoided my gaze and fumbled around in her bag, probably to keep herself busy rather than actually needing anything.

“Evie?” I asked. Questions flooded my head. I would have to grovel and figure out a way to get her back on board with us.

“What Cynthia?”

“It hasn’t even been a month or—”

“Please, stop. I just don’t want to be a part of this.”

“Why not?”

She seared me with her gaze. “Because I’m tired of sharing. I’m the third wheel.”

She’s the third wheel? Is she insane?

I focused on not getting too loud. “That’s ridiculous. I’m always giving you two space.”

“Well, now you don’t have to do that. You have King Jay all to yourself.” She twirled her hands in the air. “May you revel in his awesomeness!”

“Yeah, right.” I headed over to the bed and plopped myself down close to her. A phone vibrated. It must’ve been Jay’s. The shower sounded from the bathroom. “He’ll drop me as soon as you give him your ultimatum.”

“What ultimatum?” Evie asked.

“You’ll tell him that he can only be with you, and then where will that leave me?”

“I don’t even want to be with him.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.” She snatched up a pair of socks and twisted them in her hands. “Any man who can convince me to be in a relationship with him and another woman, is a man I need to avoid. It means he could get me to agree to anything. I’d rather stop this now.”

“Could you just try—”

“I’ve already tried,” Evie snapped. “Just, stop. Seriously. You’re worse than him.”

I placed my hand on my chest. “I’m just trying to find a way for us to all be together.”

“I don’t want to be with all of you.”

“Why? You’re always laughing when we hang out.”

“That doesn’t mean I should be with you both. I laugh with lots of people. Does that mean I should just start marrying the whole bunch? We could go for a whole twisted community, bring the hippy days back.”

“But—”

She held her hands to her forehead and rubbed her temples. “Seriously, Cynthia. You’re going to want to stop talking to me now. I’m in a shitty mood, and I’m really tired of trying to convince both of you that this situation is just not for me.”

“I think I’m asexual,” I blurted it out and had no idea if it would help the situation or not. Maybe she figured that I would eventually hook up with Jay and like it, and that somehow it would matter. She hadn’t liked the fact that we did things when she was in class, even though I got nothing out of it. “You’re what?”

“Asexual. I’ve been researching it. There are more people out there like me who don’t have any real physical reaction to sex or even care to ever have it in their lives. Some of them are in relationships where it’s more like companionship than intimacy.”

“How does your confession relate to me?” Evie’s face scrunched up in confusion. “I mean I’m glad that you think you know what you are, but your being asexual doesn’t have anything to do with me wanting to get out of this relationship.”

“I think you feel threatened.”

“Whatever.” She stood up.

Maybe that was a wrong approach.

“Evie, can we just talk about it?”

“I’m going downstairs to see if I can sit at the bar and have some old guy buy me an illegal glass of wine. You enjoy Jay and your asexuality.”

I got up with her and grabbed her arm. “Wait, you owe me an explanation.”

Frowning, she stared at my hand on her. “I don’t owe you anything. You’ve lost your mind, Cynthia. If you were Jay, I would have punched you in the stomach. Because you’re you, and don’t know any better, I’ll wait a few seconds before punching you.”

I didn’t let go. “Jay and I won’t have sex anymore.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You were
still
having sex?”

Fuck muffins. I thought he told her. He didn’t say anything?

“Uh.” I tried to say more, but she punched me in my stomach. I mean with no warning at all, she slammed that brick of a fist into my core.
Shit!
Pain bit at my gut. I doubled over in agony. All those times she’d hit Jay and he groaned, I always thought he was reacting like a baby. Now I knew. Evie boasted a lot of strength in that right arm.
Oh my god!
I focused on breathing instead of the pain.

“Fuck. I’m sorry.” She seized my arm and helped me to the bed. “I shouldn’t have done that. It’s just … hearing about you and him hooking up … when the hell did you two do this?”

I dropped down on the bed. “During your student government meetings.”

“Son of a bitch.” She glared at the bathroom door. “Soon as he walks out, I’m punching him dead in his dick.”

I rubbed my stomach. “Why? Did he tell you that we weren’t having sex?”

“No, but he could’ve told me that you were.”

“Don’t be mad at him. I always started it.”

“Whatever.”

“I would. Sometimes he would try to stop it because he felt bad, but I would push him to keep going. I wouldn’t let him stop.”

Shaking her head, she glanced at me. “Why?”

“Because.”

“What?”

“Because I didn’t want him to ever want to stop being with me.”

Surprisingly, she didn’t respond.

“You can take him away with no problem,” I said. “You’re his best friend. You have this great chemistry in bed. What do I have?”

“Besides being pretty much guy and girl versions of each other?” She rolled her eyes.

“I knew if I had sex with him too, then I would have a fighting chance when the inevitable moment came, when you got tired of sharing him.” I leaned all the way back on the bed. My stomach didn’t scream in pain, but it still ached.

“Why do all this for him?” Evie asked. “What are you getting out of it?”

“As much normalcy as possible. You’re as normal as they come. You have a nice mom, a great group of friends who adore you, and a steamy relationship with the guy you loved all your life. I just hope to experience some of it.”

She lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. “That’s weird.”

“I’m weird.”

“No, you’re not. You just think you are.”

Scenes of me making love with, not Jay, but
him
flashed in my mind. I shoved them away as fast as I could. “Trust me. I’m stranger than you know.”

“Then maybe you’re fucking bananas.” A nervous laugh left her lips.

“I am.”

She quit laughing when she noticed the serious look on my face.

“You want to hear something crazy?” I asked.

“Probably not, but go ahead.” Sitting up, she placed her elbows on her legs and buried her face into her hands. “It’ll buy time for Jay until I knee him as hard as I can, and then I’ll head down to the bar and get a dirty old man to buy me
two
illegal glasses of wine.”

“The first time I had sex I was twelve.”

“And now I’ll need a joint.” She rose from the bed. “Cynthia that is horrible, but … twelve?”

I nodded.

She blew out a long breath. “That’s fucked up. I don’t even think I can handle the details.”

“I didn’t plan on telling you the details.”

“Why did you confess that to me then?”

“Because I’m trying to get you to understand me and why I need you to keep trying with us.”

“By making me feel sorry for you?”

“No.” I slowly eased up. “I just. Look … you know exactly who you are and what you want in life.”

“No.” Evie wagged her finger. “I actually have no idea who I am or what I want, besides not being in a relationship with two people, regardless of whether the other woman can have orgasms or not.”

“I’ve had them, just not with Jay. Do you want to know who I’ve had orgasms with?”

“Is this going to make me throw up or feel bad for you?”

“Yes.”

She blew out a long breath. “Have you had orgasms with anyone else besides this piece of shit person who would have sex with a child?”

“No.”

“And he was an adult?”

“Yes.”

She fisted her hands, and I hoped she wasn’t going to punch me again. “Was this bastard a close friend of the family?”

“No.”

“Teacher?”

“No,” I said. “And you don’t want to know.”

“Was it a family member who had sex with you at twelve?”

I nodded.

Closing her eyes, she headed back to the bed and sat back down. An odd silence saturated the room.

“I’m sorry, Cynthia.” She didn’t face me, but I recognized that sorrow in her voice that most people held when I decided to tell them. Either they pitied my story or yearned to run away from me as if I were a monster.

“I don’t think I can have sex like a normal person,” I admitted.

Evie opened her eyes. “Maybe you can. Have you ever talked to a counselor about it? Do your parents know?”

“No one in my family knows, except him. And I don’t think I can talk to a therapist about it. They’ll just tell somebody.”

“What? All this time you’ve been dealing with this by yourself?” She faced me. Rage filled her face. “You have to tell somebody. Is this sicko still out there?”

“Yes, but you don’t understand my family dynamics. He’s sort of like the head of everybody. He’s been real successful and sort of takes care of everyone.”

“So no one knows?” She shook her head. “Do you still have to see him?”

“When I go home.” I had to get off of this topic. It was venturing too close to where I didn’t want to go. I twisted my own fingers in my lap. “Evie, can you just give us some time?”

“That’s not fair.” She gave me a weak smile. “I feel like crap for what you’ve been through, but it’s not right to talk me into a situation that I’m uncomfortable with.”

My phone rang again. I knew it had to be my mom.

She gestured to it. “We might as well start answering our phones and get all of these explanations over with.”

“Yeah.” I picked it up and scanned my mind for more ways to convince her. “Can we talk more about this later?”

“I don’t think—”

“Please.”

She held up her hand. “Fine. Come down to the bar, and I’ll talk about it a little more, but that’s it. After tomorrow, I just want to move on.”

“Okay.” I turned on my phone and answered. “Hello?”

“Cynthia?” My mom’s sad voice carried over the line. “Your dad is dead.”

Darkness sank throughout the cabin. The plane rocked a little. I tensed in my seat and checked to make sure my seat belt was secure. Not that a seat belt provided any real protection in a plane accident. What would it do if we slammed into the earth, make sure my spine remained attached to my flattened body?
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
It was the worst part of flying, that crazy realization high up in the sky that if something happened, just one little thing, the plane and I could go crashing to Earth with no way to survive. Fear pumped blood through my veins fast, formed tiny beads of sweat on my forehead, and kept me on edge since we took off.

Or maybe it was the predicament I’d gotten myself in, yet again.

How did I get on this plane with Jay and Cynthia after breaking up with them? The first thing I need to improve about myself is working on the ability to say “no” and then sticking with no. And maybe saying “no” over and over again. I should get “no” tattooed on the palm of my right hand so anytime Cynthia came around I could just show her my hand and walk the other way.

Cynthia discovered her dad was dead, and I found myself consoling her. Part of me wondered if her dad was the one who raped her. The other part of me rushed back to the day I heard my father died in a motorcycle accident. I had been a child, only ten years old. It crushed me. The weight of the world—skies, heavy gray clouds, sadness, and all the other things that came with a loved one’s death—it all came crashing down on my little shoulders and forced me to my knees. Back then I had beautiful, strong black women in my family to lift me up. And when they couldn’t get me out of my sadness, Jay and Pipe rushed to the rescue.

Who did Cynthia have? Jay. Maybe her family. Although one of them had molested her and the rest had no idea.

Clearly, she didn’t have much of a support network—not like me. It wouldn’t have been cool to leave her stranded. Throughout my childhood, Mom stressed compassion and the positives of walking this earth as a good human being. Mom would have jumped on the airplane and gone with Cynthia, and so I did. Besides, Cynthia begged me to come down with her, so much that it became uncomfortable to deal with the crying. Desperation filled her eyes as she twisted her head from Jay to me, pleading with us to come. It would’ve been annoying, but under the circumstances, I drowned in her sadness and simply agreed to come.