Myself and I (3 page)

“What's horrible is her getting pregnant,” I said, not wanting to see her point of view.

“It takes two to tango, Keysha. She didn't get pregnant all by herself.” Barbara pointed out the obvious.

“Yeah, whatever,” I mumbled, uninterested in continuing the conversation.

“I'm sorry that your night got all screwed up,” Barbara empathized as she placed her right cheek in the cup of her hand and bowed the corners of her bottom lip downward.

“It is what it is,” I answered impatiently, feeling numb about the entire episode.

“You're right, and there is no use in dwelling on what cannot be changed.” At that point, I knew Barbara had pretty much said everything she wanted to say about the incident.

 

Later that afternoon I got a phone call from Antonio. At first I wasn't going to answer it because I truly didn't have
a thing to say, but at the last minute I changed my mind and decided to see why he was calling.

“What do you want?” I answered my phone in the nastiest tone I could summon up.

“Unlike you, I was calling to make sure you were okay. I can't believe you left me stranded at prom.” Antonio's exasperation equaled my own.

“You should not have allowed Priscilla to splash all that punch on me,” I said, getting angrier by the moment.

“I didn't even see her coming, Keysha. How was I supposed to stop her? I don't have eyes in the back of my head, you know.”

“Whatever, Antonio!”

“Do you know how awkward I felt walking around begging people to give me a ride home? I had to get a ride with one of the guys from the basketball team. Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was?”

“Probably as humiliating as someone putting all your businesses in the street or throwing liquid on your expensive prom dress, then running off leaving you looking all stupefied. Forget about you, how do you think I felt, you jerk?” I roared.

“Stop twisting this around and making it about you, Keysha. You're not the only victim here.”

“Yeah, and I'm certainly not the one who had drama follow me to the prom. Now that I think about it, you probably knew Priscilla wanted to talk with you all along, but you avoided her until she forced you to hear what she had to say.”

“Oh, so now you're sticking up for Priscilla? You can't be serious!” I could tell by his voice that Antonio was extremely agitated.

“I'm not sticking up for her, I'm just saying if I were in her shoes I might have tried something similar.”

“You would've tossed a bowl of fruit punch on me?” Antonio asked.

“Not that part. I'm talking about when she announced to the world that she was pregnant with your baby. I know you said it wasn't your baby, but if it was, what would you do?” I asked, wanting to truly know what kind of man he was.

“It's not my baby, so I don't see a need to even answer such a dumb question.” Antonio was defiant.

“How is that a dumb question?” Confused, I wrinkled my eyebrows.

“Because it is, Keysha. You don't go around asking guys what they'd do if their girl came up loaded,” Antonio snapped.

“Okay, so what you're really saying is that if we were to do it and I got pregnant, you'd turn your back on me,” I said, wanting to be certain I knew where I stood with him.

“That wouldn't happen, because we'd use protection,” Antonio countered.

“The only thing that protects one hundred percent of the time is not to do it at all. Abstinence. Even if you used a condom, those things can break sometimes.”

“I thought you went to Planned Parenthood and got the Pill?” Antonio asked.

“I did, but I haven't started taking them. Besides, taking the Pill is only like ninety-five percent safe. There is still a chance that I could get pregnant. How could you not know that?” I asked, utterly shocked by his lack of knowledge.

“It's not my job to know about the Pill and other stuff that girls should be taking care of. If more girls would handle their business the way they're supposed to, there wouldn't be so many teen pregnancies.”

“I don't believe you just said that.” I felt the few remaining feelings I had for him freezing over.

“I don't see why. It's the girls who have to carry the baby for nine months and then bring it home from the hospital. Guys don't have to worry about stuff like that,” Antonio reasoned.

“You would make a horrible father,” I said, hoping I'd hurt his feelings.

“You're right, because I don't want kids, ever.”

“Whatever, Antonio. I'm done talking to you now.” I didn't want to hear another word pass through his lips.

“So you're not even going to say you're sorry for leaving me?” Antonio was totally perturbed.

“I'm not going to apologize for a damn thing!”

“You know what? I don't need a dumb-ass chickenhead like you. I've got girls lined up just itching to hook up with me,” Antonio spat.

“I know you didn't just call me dumb.” I pulled the phone away from my ear briefly and looked at it. I knew Antonio's
big ego was bruised, but I couldn't believe he had the nerve to insult me.

“No. I called you a dumb-ass chickenhead and—”

Click! I hung up the phone. I buried my face in the palms of my hands and took a few deep breaths. My head began aching, and I knew a massive headache was on the horizon. I went to the medicine cabinet and removed a bottle of aspirin. I swallowed the pills and then went to my bedroom and lay down. The day was only three-quarters over, but I didn't know if I could get back up to face the rest of it.

I returned
to school the following week with a mixture of dread and anticipation. I was fearful of other students approaching me wanting to know every scandalous detail of what happened on prom night. I really didn't want to relive that unpleasant experience, but I knew there would be no getting around it. The upshot of everything was that the school year was quickly coming to an end and I didn't have to go to summer school. In just a few weeks I'd be taking my final exams and rushing out the door screaming with joy. My plans were to fill my summer days with nothing more than sitting around the house watching daytime television. I intended to get hooked on soap operas, reality shows and the telephone. I knew my goals were rather pathetic and lacked any type of real ambition, but that was truly the extent of what I wanted to do until I got a better idea.

After breakfast Mike and I left the house together. As we
walked down the driveway and onto the sidewalk, we noticed his girlfriend, Sabrina, waiting for us at the corner.

“Hey, guys,” Sabrina greeted us. I said hello as Mike gave her a quick kiss on the lips.

“I heard about what happened at the prom,” Sabrina said.

“Well, if you heard Mike's version of events, he got it all wrong,” I quickly said, because I didn't want her to believe that I was pregnant.

“So you're not—”

I cut Sabrina short. “No. I'm not about to have a baby.”

“Oh. Okay, then, I won't bother to give you the stuff I printed out about teen moms from the Internet. I also got a lot of useful information from this reality show on MTV called
Teen Mom
,” Sabrina kept babbling.

“Yeah, Keysha. Sabrina has me watching the show. It's really interesting,” Mike added.

“Well, I don't need some reality show to tell me that being a teen mother isn't very smart. What someone should do is create a reality show on how to understand males and their egos. I'd be willing to bet millions of dollars that a show like that would generate an enormous following.” We reached the corner of 170th Street and decided to cross over to the school side of the street.

“That does sound like a good show. Maybe you could call up one of the Cable Stations and give them that suggestion,” Sabrina said. She unzipped her purse and removed some chewing gum. “Here, Mike, your breath is a little on the hot side this morning.” Sabrina offered him a piece of gum.

Mike held the palm of his hand to his lips and exhaled his breath into his hands.

“I've told you a thousand times that you need to brush longer,” I said to him.

“Yeah, whatever,” Mike said as he inserted the gum into his mouth.

“You should listen to your sister, Mike. She's right, you know,” Sabrina added.

“Are you kidding me?” Mike glanced at Sabrina disapprovingly.

“Duh! Yeah, she's right. You know how you always want to French kiss me and sometimes I just pull away? Well, it's because of your breath, babe.”

“What is this? Jump on Mike day or something?” Mike griped.

“Lord, boy, she's only trying to help you out. Stop being so stubborn,” I said just as we made it to the school parking lot.

“So you're saying I can kiss you more if I take care of my breath,” Mike asked.

“Yeah,” Sabrina answered, “and start using a toothpaste that whitens your teeth. You have a cute smile, but sometimes the yellow tint of your teeth is not attractive.”

“Okay. That's enough. You guys are just trying to give me a complex. My teeth aren't all that bad.” Mike had gotten defensive.

“If you say so, but that's how it starts. First you ignore your teeth, then you develop bad skin and then the next
thing you know everyone is walking around calling you ‘Zit-Puss-Baby' behind your back,” I said.

“Isn't that the truth. I can't stand guys with bad skin filled with white zits and dry black skin. Yuck!” Sabrina closed her eyes and shivered at the thought. At that moment I stopped walking. I set my backpack on the ground and unzipped the front compartment.

“What's wrong? Why are you stopping?” Mike asked. I didn't answer him right away because I was frantically searching for my school ID, but didn't see it.

“Dang it!” I exclaimed. “I have to go back home.”

“What for?” Sabrina asked.

“I left my school ID sitting on my desk in my room,” I answered as I zipped up my bag and rose to my feet. I quickly looked at my watch and realized that if I rushed back home I'd still have enough time to stop at my locker and grab a snack from the cafeteria to eat between classes.

“I'll catch up with you two later,” I said before turning to walk in the opposite direction.

By the time I'd gone home, picked up my student ID and returned to school I was in a big rush. I hurried to my locker and began to fumble with the combination lock.

“Three turns to the right, two turns to the left and one turn to the right,” I mumbled. Just as I'd yanked down on the lock to open the door, Wesley appeared. He slapped the palm of his hand against the locker next to me. The loud noise caught me off guard and I flinched.

“Boy, you nearly gave me a heart attack. Why are you
making so much noise?” I asked, moderately annoyed by the disturbance as well as his presence.

“Why are you so jumpy?” I hated that he answered my question with another one.

“I'm not jumpy,” I disagreed.

“Well, I think you are. Would you like to talk to me about what's bothering you?” Wesley leaned his shoulder into the locker and focused his eyes on me.

“There is nothing bothering me, Wesley,” I assured him.

“You never were a good liar, Keysha. I can tell when you're covering up your feelings. Sometimes you bottle up stuff inside until it just explodes, and that's not healthy.” Wesley sounded like a shrink, as if his analysis of my behavior was on point. He paused, then pressed his back against the locker next to me.

“You know, now that you mention it, there is something bothering me that I'd like to talk to you about,” I confessed as I removed some books from my duffel bag.

“Talk to me. I'm here for you, Keysha,” Wesley said, more than willing to cater to whatever I wanted or needed.

“You hurt my feelings, Wesley, with the way you treated me at prom. You said a lot of mean things and I could tell you'd been drinking. What was up with that? I thought you were over the alcohol issue,” I said, truly wanting to know the reasons behind his relapse.

“I wanted to feel good, and drinking helped me get there. Besides, why do you even care about that? You already dumped me and made it very clear that it was totally over
between us. That was so hard for me to deal with. I may look like a tough guy on the outside, but…”

“You know why we broke up, so don't stand here and pretend you're clueless or innocent,” I reminded him as I shut my locker.

“I'm guilty of loving you, and if that's a crime, then you might as well lock me up and toss away the key.”

“Wesley, you're not in love with me.” I chuckled as I began walking.

“I proved my love to you when I risked my life by going undercover to expose Liz Lloyd and Neophus Trinity when they were trying to frame you for selling drugs. Have you forgotten about that?” Wesley asked.

I stopped in the middle of the hallway and exhaled as I tried to block memories from that stressful situation. He wasn't playing fair. I turned and gazed directly into his eyes and said, “Of course I haven't forgotten, Wesley. And I'll be forever grateful to you for what you did. But you also—”

“Shh.” Wesley put his index fingers up to my lips. “I just wanted to make sure you hadn't forgotten how I'd proved my love for you.”

“But you also proved your love for Lori by taking a bullet for her,” I quickly reminded him, in case he had a sudden case of short-term memory loss.

“You don't have all of the facts, Keysha. What I did for you, I did willingly. When I got shot over Lori, I was forced to get involved.”

“I don't believe you,” I said, turning away and continuing on.

“It's the truth,” Wesley said as he trailed behind me. “Lori's boyfriend was threatening her, and I got pulled into their dispute.”

“It doesn't matter now. That's old news and I'm over that now. You and Lori are a couple now and I need to respect that.”

“Lori and I aren't exactly a couple, Keysha. She's more like a bully who—”

“Wesley, save it. I don't want to listen to you complain about some other chick. The fact is that you two were at prom together and you left early.”

“You saw us leaving?” Wesley asked.

“Yes, I did, and you along with that psychopath girlfriend of yours almost ran over Priscilla Grisby. Did you realize that, or were you guys too drunk to notice?”

“Hey, I wasn't the one driving. Besides, I don't remember much of anything after I spoke to you.”

“That's not the point, Wesley,” I said, trying to get through to whatever sense was left inside his thick skull.

“Then what is?” he asked.

“You guys shouldn't have been drinking, let alone driving. That was just stupid.”

“Well, I've developed a reputation for doing stupid things. Taking bullets, going into drug houses to keep the girl I love from going to jail. Hell, why not add drunk driving to the list?” Wesley was now clearly irritated.

“Just do me a favor, Wesley.” I placed my hand on his shoulder and gazed into his eyes. He placed his left hand over mine and focused on me.

“You know that I'd still do anything for you, Keysha.”

“Don't drink and drive, okay? You have to promise me you won't do that again,” I pleaded.

“Why don't we get back together, Keysha?” Wesley asked, completely ignoring what I'd just said.

“Because,” I answered.

“That's not an answer,” he said with an exasperated tone.

“I've got to go. I'll see you later,” I said, readjusting my book bag and picking up my pace to place some distance between us.

“Where are you headed?”

“That way, toward the cafeteria.” I pointed.

“What's going on with you and Antonio?” Wesley continued following me, although I thought he was going to his class.

“Nothing,” I answered.

“You're lying again,” Wesley boldly proclaimed.

“So you're calling me a straight-faced liar now?” Wesley was beginning to annoy me.

“I heard about Priscilla shouting out to the world that she was pregnant with Antonio's baby at prom.”

“You're the first person who actually got a fact straight,” I said.

“I also heard that you beat up Priscilla really badly and that Antonio got pissed with you for jumping on his baby mama and slung an entire bowl of fruit punch on you. If
you need me to kick his ass, I will. Just give me the word.” Wesley offered up his services.

“What! Where did you hear that lie? I swear I am completely
amazed
at how a story can get twisted totally around once it has gone through the rumor mill at this school.”

“Well, that's what happened, isn't it?” Wesley pressed on in search of the truth.

“No. Well, yes, but not in the order you've described it,” I said, attempting to set the record straight.

“Well, that's the way the story got back to me,” he said.

“I swear now I'm starting to believe everyone who attended prom was drunk.” I stomped my foot and place my hands on my hips.

“Yeah, Ed Daley and a few others were handing out shots of booze in the men's bathroom. Everyone came in for a hit.” Wesley laughed.

“Ed Daley is going to be your downfall,” I said, hoping he'd heed my warning. “Anyway, you heard it wrong. Yes, Priscilla is claiming to be pregnant with Antonio's baby. And yes, I did want to beat her down, but I didn't. Antonio didn't sling fruit punch on me, Priscilla did. There, now you have all your information correct.”

“So, how do you feel about that?” Wesley asked.

“What do you mean, ‘how do I feel'?”

“I mean, are you going to put a beat down on her for ruining your prom?”

“I don't know. A part of me wants to, but I know it won't
change anything that's happened. So, I'm sort of at a crossroads right now,” I admitted.

“So, if you were to see her in the hallway today, what would you do?” Wesley kept probing me.

“I don't know,” I answered truthfully.

“Can I be honest with you?” Wesley asked.

“You always are,” I pointed out.

“Okay, I'm just going to be real with you, Keysha. Antonio isn't the guy for you. He's not your type and he only cares about two things. Having sex and being a player.”

“Are you the pot who called the kettle black?” I asked.

“What?” Wesley had a perplexed look on his face.

“I'm sorry. I sound like my Grandmother Rubylee. All I'm saying is it takes a player to know one.”

“Oh, so you think I'm a player now?” Wesley asked.

“If the shoe fits, then wear it,” I answered.

“I'm not a player, Keysha.”

“Could've fooled me.”

“Are you ever going to forgive me?”

“Wesley, I'm not mad at you.”

“Then why won't you give us another shot?”

I shrugged my shoulders because I didn't have an answer.

“What's that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“I don't know,” I said.

“So, there might be a slim chance for us to get back together? Is that what you're saying?”

I shrugged my shoulders again and said, “I don't know.”

“I'll take your answer as a positive sign of hope,” Wesley said.

“It is what it is, Wesley.” I opened the cafeteria door and walked inside.

Wesley followed. “Lori is nothing like you, you know. I've never cared about her the way that I care about you.”