Hoodie (34 page)

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Authors: S. Walden

BOOK: Hoodie
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She smiled into his neck.

“I think I could put you in my pocket and carry you ‘round all day,” he said running his hands down her back and letting them rest on her bottom.

“I don’t know how much I’d like that,” she replied.

“Why? You could poke yo’ head out and look around. And then if you see somethin’ you don’t like, you just tuck yo’self right back down in my pocket. I’ll take care of you.”

“Yeah, but what about when you have to go to the bathroom?” she asked.

Anton laughed. “I guess I didn’t think about that.”

He kissed her forehead and made her look up at him.

“We okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said.

“Okay, ‘cause I plan on keepin’ you, so I wanna make sure everything’s okay.”

“Everything’s okay,” she said, and as she lay in his arms, she knew it was.

 

 

CHAPTER 23

SATURDAY, MAY 22

 

“I got somethin’ for you,” Anton said. He pulled out a small box from inside his pants pocket and gave it to her. He looked nervous and unsure.

“That better not be—”

“Relax, girl! I ain’t even ready to get married yet. And anyway, how long we known each other? Five minutes?” he asked.

She smiled and took the box.

“I know it hasn’t been long,” she said. “But it feels like it, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he said looking at his feet.

They were standing by the water’s edge. They were about to take a walk when Anton remembered the gift he had for her. He thought it felt weird to be standing when she opened it, so he invited her to sit down with him.

They settled themselves on the soft ground side by side. Emma opened the box carefully and pulled out a thin silver bracelet. It had a single charm in the shape of a heart. She held it up to examine it, and Anton got worried.

“They said it was white gold, but I don’t know. They prolly scammed me, but I thought it was pretty. I thought you’d like it.” He searched her face for an answer.

“I love it,” she said quietly. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

He breathed a sigh of relief then offered to put it on her. She let him fasten it to her wrist then studied it once more.

“I notice you ain’t never wear bracelets. I hope it ain’t ‘cause you don’t like ‘em,” he said, feeling the uncertainty come back.

“I love bracelets,” she replied.

“So that can be the bracelet you was searchin’ for in my room that one time,” he said grinning.

“Huh?”

“Girl, you always forget that,” he said. “When you came back to me. You pretended to look for yo’ missin’ bracelet.”

“I remember,” she said. Even now, after everything they shared, the thought of that evening still made her blush.

“Well, here it is,” he said, fingering it carefully.

“I love it,” she said again.

Anton felt giddy. He had never bought a gift for a girl before, and he was unsure what to get Emma. But he knew he wanted to get her something. He decided to spend his first paycheck on her, but he found the bracelet at a local pawn shop long before pay day and wanted to get it right away. He was afraid that someone would snatch it up. His mother offered him the money, and he promised to pay her back. He knew it was expensive, and he didn’t care. He would give her everything he had, give her whatever she wanted because he loved her.

She continued to stare at it, how it lit up her wrist in the afternoon sun, and she decided something.

“I won’t take it off,” she said.

“Girl, you gotta take it off to shower and stuff,” Anton pointed out.

“I won’t take it off. Ever,” she said fiercely.

He did not reply. He took her hand and led her back to the car. Suddenly he did not feel like going for a walk. He took her to his house instead.

“How you do this to me?” he asked, leading her down the small hallway to his bedroom and shutting the door behind him. “How you make me want you so much?”

She shrugged and he laughed. He walked towards her, and she let him wrap her up, kiss her long and slow until her lips tingled and ached. She sensed he wanted more, but she had something else in mind.

“Can we talk?” she asked.

“We can always talk,” he responded looking down at her. “What you wanna talk about?”

“Sometimes I get scared,” she admitted quietly, gently detaching herself from his embrace and sitting down on the bed. Anton followed suit. “What do we do when we graduate?”

“What you mean?” he asked. “The same thing we doin’ now.” He knew exactly what she meant. She was going away and it would be harder for them. Still, he was determined to keep her. He assumed her feelings were the same.

“I never expected to be with you,” she said. She fingered her new bracelet. “I never expected to fall in love with you. Is it real? It hasn’t been long. But it feels real to me. That has to be right, don’t you think?”

“‘Course it’s right,” Anton replied. “And it’s real, Emma. Why you scared it’s not? You love me, right?”

She nodded.

“And I love you,” he said. “That’s real.”

She smiled.

“I never expected you’d fall in love with me, though,” Anton admitted. “I knew I loved you from the moment I saw you last year.”

“What?” Emma said. “Last year?”

“Girl, you so clueless,” Anton answered lying back on his duvet cover. She did the same.

“You noticed me last year?”

“‘Course I did,” Anton replied looking up at the bedroom ceiling. “We had history together. Don’t you remember?”

“I don’t remember,” Emma admitted. “I don’t remember anything really until the day I met you in English class.”

“Well, you was just as cute then as you are now. I thought I’d never get a chance to talk to you, so I tried to put you outta my mind,” Anton replied. “But I knew I loved you anyway. I figured I’d just have to be with another girl but always love you. And that ain’t fair to nobody.”

“But you didn’t even know me,” Emma said.

“Yes I did,” Anton replied.

“How?”

“Girl, you know I can’t explain it. I just knew you, and I knew if I ever had the opportunity to be with you that I wasn’t gonna mess that up.”

“Do you think we had sex too early?” Emma asked abruptly. She saw him turn to face her in her peripheral vision and kept her eyes glued to the ceiling.

“No.”

“Are you saying that because you’re an eighteen-year-old boy?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Emma laughed. “Seriously, Anton,” she insisted, and looked at him.

“Emma, you are mine forever. Do you understand that? So it don’t matter that I made love to you now or waited three months or ten years. You my girl and you always gonna be my girl,” Anton said. He felt instantly possessive and pulled her on top of him. She didn’t resist.

“I can’t imagine ever being without you,” she said. “I don’t care if that sounds melodramatic. I don’t care that it’s been a few weeks. I love you, Anton.”

“I know that,” he said. “I love you, too.”

“Call me ‘baby,’” she demanded.

“Baby, I love you,” he said.

She bent down until her face was even with his and smiled. And then she kissed him and let him love her thoroughly all afternoon until she felt drunk and dizzy.

 

***

 

Anton knew his mother would yell at him if he didn’t finish the two loads of laundry she told him to do before going to work. He would have rather stayed in bed with Emma, but then he didn’t like the prospect of his mother screaming at him all night. And to be honest, he was exhausted and even sore, he noticed quite suddenly. He did not realize he could make love to her so much. And he wanted to force his body to keep going, but he could not. He was completely and deliciously spent, and he imagined she was too.

He watched her leave thinking he would be very tired at work that evening. And weak, too. How was he going to be able to load heavy boxes all night? All he wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep for a few days, build up his strength once more so that he could love her all over again. The thought was so enticing. Perhaps he could grab a short nap, he thought, but just as he walked back to his bedroom, he spotted the laundry basket. He cursed softly and picked it up.

He made his way downstairs and across the complex to the community laundry room. He opened the door and was relieved to see no one inside. He wouldn’t have to wait for a machine. He loaded two washers and was about to go back upstairs when he heard the door open. He turned around to see who it was.

Nate stood before him looking confused, slightly dazed. Anton tensed immediately, unsure what to say. He noticed the long bruise lining Nate’s jaw and cringed at the memory of the fight between them. Nate approached him, and Anton could smell alcohol and the strong, acrid stench of marijuana.

It happened so fast that he had no time to react. Nate’s arm shot up straight and stiff in front of Anton, his fingers wrapped tightly around a shiny metal object. He pointed it directly at Anton, moving forward with determination until the tip of the gun found Anton’s eye. He pressed on the gun shoving it hard against Anton’s face, and instinctively Anton threw up his hands in surrender.

“Yeah, that’s right nigga. Throw them hands up,” Nate taunted. He pushed on the gun forcing Anton’s head back against the wall.

“What the fuck you doin’ Nate?” Anton asked. The fear was palpable in his voice, on his face, throughout his body. “Where you get a gun, man?”

“Don’t fuckin’ talk to me!” Nate screamed pumping the gun for emphasis. “Muthafuckin’ white pussy-lovin’ piece of shit!”

Anton did not reply. Instead he prayed silently for a way out, but no opportunity presented itself, and he knew that he had to consider the likelihood of dying today. The absurdity of it, he thought, that he could go from making love all afternoon and feeling the world was a glorious place to dying in a grimy laundry room.

“We was like brothas, man!” Nate cried. Only then did Anton notice the streaks on his friend’s face left by tears. “Then you fuckin’ turn on me! You fuckin’ do that to me in front of everyone!”

He pressed the gun even harder against Anton’s eye, and Anton felt the dull ache of the muscles surrounding his eye socket.

“Man, what could I do? You said those things, Nate,” Anton said trying to calm him down. “I’m sorry, man.”

“Over some white pussy?!” Nate screamed. “You gonna turn yo’ back on yo’ brotha for some white pussy?!”

Anton didn’t know what to say. But he knew he needed to keep talking, talking Nate down, talking the gun away.

He was shocked when Nate lowered the gun suddenly. He didn’t move, however. He just watched as Nate seemed to battle the thoughts inside his head. It was then that Anton realized he was high on something in addition to the weed. Anton feared the hard drugs permeating Nate’s body, wondering how he could possibly anticipate his friend’s next move, knowing Nate was erratic and empowered by the gun. I’m going to die, he thought, breaking out in a cold sweat.

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