Fast Life (21 page)

“Yeah.”

“And? Whatchu think?”

“I dunno.”

“Whatchu mean you don't know?”

“Exactly what I said. I dunno. It's not that easy.”

“I don't see why it ain't. All you gotta do is ask your ma. You act like you got some nigga down here or something.”

Kyra ceased chewing and picked up her napkin, daintily dabbing the corners of her mouth.

“Oh…so you really got someone? See, I was just joking. What's his name?” He was obviously jealous.

“Don't worry about it.”

“Don't tell me what to worry about.”

“I don't have anybody, okay, Kai? And even if I did, you should be the last one to say shit about it,” she hissed. Their conversation was growing tense.

“Here we go….”

“Did you love her?”

“What? No, I didn't love her.” He sounded as though her question were ridiculous.

“How come you never called me? I mean, you didn't have
one
minute that you could've called?”

“Kyra, chill ya tone. I don't want to dwell on the past. I just want to have a good time tonight. This is about the future, not the old mistakes.”

“Whateva.”

“To the future.” He started a toast with the lifting of his champagne flute.

“To the future.”

“To us.”

Without repeating the last line of the toast, Kyra took another, longer sip of her champagne as she gazed out at the black ocean and the waves that crashed on the white-sand beach. The rest of the meal was quiet and calm, with a conversation comprised of pointless talk for another hour before they finished.

They exited the restaurant to retrieve the Bentley from the valet after leaving the waiter with a more-than-generous tip. Makai was showcasing his fortune as much as he could, and Kyra was as content with the evening as she could be.

 

The day after graduation at the Hartwell residence was full of celebration. Now that Quentin had graduated from school, he would begin working for his father.

The grill was going: there were ribs, chicken, burgers and hot dogs, with side dishes and desserts covering the tables. The display of food could bring forth anyone's appetite. The music was loud, but not nearly as loud as the laughter. Everyone but the adults filled the pool, the Jacuzzi or one of the poolside deck chairs. Everyone was more than enjoying themselves—everyone but Justin.

Justin was still down in the dumps about his breakup with Kyra, and his mother's asking him where Kyra was and whether she was coming didn't help. Nor did the busy signal he got every time he dialed Kyra's number. He was sitting on one of the poolside chairs watching the party unfold before his eyes when he was approached by Michael.

“What's up with you, man? You're over here looking all depressed when we're all out here having fun.” Dripping with water from his recent dip in the pool, he took his seat in an empty chair beside his friend.

“I'm thinking.”

“Oh God, it's about Kyra, isn't it?”

“Shut up. You moped for Natasha and she wasn't even your girl. Don't get me started.”

“Aww, nigga, whatever. Yeah I moped. So? I got over that shit, but I never said it was easy. I really cared about that girl.”

“Well, I
love
Kyra. I don't know what to do, man. This shit doesn't feel right. Like now. Right now. She should be here but she's not.”

“And I doubt she will be.”

“Really, you think?”

“She's the only girl I know who would trip off finding out that her man has cash.”

“It's the principle of the matter, Mike. All money matters aside. This is about trust.” He was serious, unaffected by any jokes.

“I know, I know.”

“You know she thinks I've been messing with Veronica? Ain't that some shit?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Then she found out about how I was dancing with Angela at prom. She was trippin' off that, too. It was only a few dances! I've been trying to call her but she won't answer. I always get a busy signal.”

“Yeah, I saw you with Angela. Isn't she that girl who you said was a superfreak and she could do that trick with her tongue and…” Michael started. He was slowly slipping back into his old mentality.

“Yeah, that's her.”

“Damn. I wish I could've got a dance with her….”

“But what I'm trippin' off is that she is trippin' off me with other females, but when we were at Q's graduation she said something like ‘you're just like him.' And she wouldn't tell me who ‘he' was. Who is ‘him'?” Justin was growing angry at the memory.

“Damn! I know who she's talking about!” Michael exclaimed.

“Stop playing, Mike.” His voice was still dull.

“Nigga, I'm dead serious! I didn't want to have to tell you this, but nigga, last night I was at the Orchidée Violette with a
fine
young lady and guess who I saw?”

“Kyra?”

“Yup, and she wasn't alone. She was with some GQ nigga. He looked like he was stacked. Pushed a Bentley and everything. Plus, I mean, we both know that Orchidée Violette is not a cheap date. You have to come in there ready to pay that big money. That's a guaranteed. Everybody knows that.”

“You think he hit it?”

“Hell yeah.”

Justin sat in silence, tightening his jaw in anger and then loosening it.

Michael went on, “I don't even know who the cat is, though. I never saw him around here before.”

“You sure it was her?”

“I swear to God it was! I've been seeing the girl for how long, J? I think I know what she looks like.” Justin didn't say a word, but his friend continued, “See, there is no sense in sitting around here all sad and shit. She is moving on and you should, too. And by the way, Veronica is throwing little glances your way—you might as well start with her. She already thinks you two had something, so hey, what the hell?” Michael advised with a pat on the back before making his way over to the food platters.

Justin turned his attention to Veronica, who was situated across from him at the other end of the pool in a chocolate and pink string bikini that fit her figure well. He got up and made his way through the party crowd. The thought of Kyra already with another man provided him with motivation for every step.

“Veronica, can I, uh…talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure. Girls, I'll be right back.” Veronica informed her friends in a normal tone, not one of bragging, before following Justin into his abode and into the empty den. It was so calm it seemed a world apart from the energetic crowd in the backyard.

“I'm glad you came over to me, because I need to talk to you, too,” she confessed.

“About what?”

“About how I'm sorry. I was really trippin' and I was acting like such a bitch. What I did to you and Kyra was really messed up. I've been doing a lot of thinking about that. I want you to be happy, and I made you the complete opposite out of my own selfishness.” Veronica's words were genuine and heartfelt, but for Justin it was too little, too late. The damage had already been done.

Still, he was caught off guard by her apology. It was unlike her to apologize for anything she ever did.

“So…what did you want to talk about?” she quizzed, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

“I actually wanted to talk about me and you. I want to give us another chance.”

“What? Wait. Aren't you with Kyra?”

“No. We're not together anymore. I guess we weren't meant to be. But I think me and you…I think me and you might be. You're not the only one who's been thinking, sweetheart.” He was lying, trying to turn on a little game.

“I don't know what to say.”

“Say yes.” His lowered voice changed the whole mood of the room.

 

Kyra was glued next to her telephone. She was awaiting Justin's call, but it never came. She dialed his number only for all her calls to go unanswered. She waited around all day and into the evening hours, intently watching the phone and hoping for it to ring. She'd made the decision last night after dinner with Makai to stay in Prince Paul. The temptation of Chicago was strangely intense, but she felt that staying on the island, where she would be close to Justin, was a worthy forfeit. Now she just needed to make things right between them, or at least make an effort to begin. It was time to start anew, and she was ready and willing to forgive.

She was alert when the doorbell rang, and she rushed from the living room to the door. She had hopes of finding Justin on the other side but only found Angel.

“Where have you been all day?”

“Here.”

“Why didn't you come to the barbeque?”

“What barbeque?”

“Quentin's family had a barbeque today. Q is going to be working for his dad now.”

“Oh, I didn't even know about it. Tell him congratulations for me?”

“Justin didn't tell you about it? Because if he didn't, he was supposed to. If I had known you didn't know, I would've told you.” Angel even sounded somewhat annoyed at saying Justin's name.

“It's cool. He probably tried, but I've been havin' phone problems lately, so he probably couldn't get through. I just got it fixed today,” Kyra lied, covering up the reason for her lack of knowledge concerning the barbeque.

“I brought you a plate.” Angel handed over the aluminum-covered plate of food.

“Good. You saved me from cookin' dinner.” She laughed.

“So, what are you doing tomorrow?”

“Oh, I gotta work. I think we got a new shipment comin' in.”

“That's always exciting.”

“Oh yes. Mmm, this is so good,” Kyra commented as she started to pick at her plate of leftovers. “How was it?” She leaned over the island in the center of the kitchen and shoved another forkful of food into her mouth.

“It was really fun. It had its weird moments, though.”

“Weird moments? Like what?”

“Like Justin and Veronica disappearing into the house
alone
for about fifteen minutes.”

“Are you serious?” Kyra was serious as she peered up from her plate.

“Yeah.”

“How
alone
were they?”

“
Too
alone.”

“What were they doin'?”

“I have no idea. All I know is they went in together and came out holding hands. After that, they were around each other for the rest of the party. It was like they were joined at the hip.”

“Well! There goes my appetite!” Kyra sounded disturbed by the information as she dropped her fork and pushed the plate away.

“I didn't mean to upset you.”

 

“Kyra, where have you been? You're an hour late!” Regina shouted at Kyra as soon as she set foot in Butterfly. Her stay at Angel's had been a little too relaxing when she woke up late for work that morning.

“I'm so sorry, Regina!” She hurried to the back room with a cup of coffee in one hand and her bag in the other.

She returned from the back room after fixing herself in the mirror and making sure she looked presentable. She had to be on point. No one would listen to a salesgirl talk about clothes if she looked a wreck.

Kyra worked hard that day, with Regina on her back more than usual—a punishment for being late, she was sure. She straightened shelves, helped customers, worked the fitting room area and even did a little inventory. She was grateful when her boss finally gave her a break and let her work the register. Or so she thought.

The door to the store opened, ringing the chime that alerted employees of a new customer, and let a gust of wind blow inside. The cool air hit Kyra, who sat at the register station reading a
Vogue
magazine to pass the downtime. She glanced up, the breeze drawing her attention from her magazine for a moment to see the new customers. She looked back down at the magazine only to do a double take: Veronica had just strolled in, and Justin was at her side.

Kyra put her head back down in her magazine, as if seeing them together didn't bother her when in reality it did. She sat at the resister, glancing at her magazine and then up at Justin and Veronica as they walked through the store selecting items with their sick lovey-dovey attitudes and public displays of affection.

She was sure she would gag when they approached the cash register, but both Justin and Veronica acted as though they didn't even know her.

“Your total is $1569.22.” She announced their total with an attitude.