“I thought you were like in love with him and shit?” Bianca challenges with skepticism while waving her pink tube of lip gloss in the air.
“Yeah, that’s old news. Besides, the only reason they’re both trying to get in her pants is because they want to know what it’s like to fuck a Black girl, and since she’s the prettiest of the limited options…” Allison lets Bianca fill in the blanks.
Bianca laughs but it sounds rehearsed and then says, “I’m pretty sure you can’t say stuff like that.” I always knew I liked Bianca. Maybe because she’s the only girl ballsy enough to stand up to Allison.
“Why? It’s true,” Allison answers, defending her nasty comment while applying a thick layer of mascara.
“I don’t know. It’s kind of racist,” Bianca observes, calling her on her shit.
“Whatever. I’ll see you later? I can’t be late for fifth again or I’ll get a detention.”
“Later,” Bianca replies.
Somehow, I hold in my tears until I’m certain both girls have exited the bathroom. I let my backpack fall to the ground with a thud. I know wholeheartedly what Allison said about Kai was false but it still hurts. I had no idea about Aiden but I don’t care as much about him. I’m notin lovewith Aiden. But Kai’s a different story. His opinion means everything to me. And the implication still fucking irks me and simultaneously makes me want to ugly cry into a gallon of ice cream for days. This notion that the only reason a guy would want to be with me is out of sheer curiosity. That I’m not enough on my own, pretty enough, popular enough,whiteenough.
I spent a lot of time building myself up over the years, honing my confidence, trying to fit in everywhere and consequently feeling like I didn’t belong anywhere. Not with my handful of classmates that were also Black or mixed and not with my familymembers who were all white. The only people I feel like I belong to and with are Kai and Jenna, and that’s taken nearly a decade. I spent almost four years of high school trying to outperform all my peers just so I felt like I, too, truly deserved to be there. And now I’m in the running for salutatorian. I made sure I was outspoken but not too strong willed, athletic yet humble, confident but not cocky and I tried my best to get along with everyone.
I’ve done everything right. And yet it isn’t enough. I still come up short. I know what Allison said is untrue but a small part of me believes it anyway.
I allow myself ten minutes to cry in the bathroom. Then I wipe my eyes with the rough one ply toilet paper that scratches more than it soothes, check my face in the camera of my cell phone, and stand up. What’s that thing people say, the best revenge is living a good life? And I know I will. I also know people like Allison, that enjoy tearing other people down for sport, that are vicious and brutal simply because they can be—people like that usually peak in high school.
Chapter 35
Kendall
Ican’tfocus,can’tconcentrate.I watch the hands on the metal clock above my desk tick on slowly. They might as well be taunting me.
Kai and I haven’t spoken in over 48 hours, which is the longest we’ve gone without talking since I met with him at the diner in January. I have two and a half hours left at the firm and I’m going to need every minute to complete the brief I’ve been working on all week. But my head keeps drifting back tohim. The fight we had, the words he said, the confessions that were made. I’m still reeling over the fact that he fucked Allison Greer. Allison was everything I could never be in high school, the perfect compilation of all the physical characteristics I secretly coveted. Shiny golden hair, a tiny pert nose, contoured cheekbones, stunning ocean blue eyes and most importantly, she was white. She was a goddamn walking, talking, breathing Barbie doll. And I realize that it isn’t even actually about Kai. I had essentially disappeared and left him heartbroken; he had every right to go seeking comfort and an escape. It’s more about my perceived flaws, my shortcomings that I haven’t closelyexamined in years. My old wounds that I was still licking. It’s that burning question that keeps me up at night.
Am I enough?
I don’t blame him for being furious at me. Of course he doesn’t trust me. Why would he? And Kai has always been the jealous type; I can’t fault him for that either. He doesn’t want to think about the guys that I’ve been with since we broke up any more than I want to think about the women he slept with. And there were many. But how do we move past our history that isn’t with each other? How do we learn to trust each other again? Maybe Jenna was right, maybe we did need to try counseling. The more I pick apart every detail of the fight we had, the more I realize it’s me who needs to fix this. I have to earn back his trust for as long as it takes or else we will never have a chance at being in a real relationship.
***
Imakemyplansforthe night. I get Akio’s overnight bag packed, change him into his dinosaur pajamas—anything Spider-Man related is all in the growing dirty laundry pile—and drive him over to my moms’. I’m at Kai’s apartment by 8:00 that evening, willing to do everything and anything to make this right. It’s a little jarring since I’ve never been here before. The valet parking, marble floor, and glass interior scream luxury and power. And the differences between this place and my 1200 square foot shoebox are abundantly clear.
Upon arrival, I tell the doorman who I’m here to see and wait to be approved as a visitor. I then take an elevator to his floor and request to be buzzed in over the intercom system. The silver doors slide open with a whoosh, and Kai, all 6 foot 4 inches of him, are standing in front of me in navy sweats and a grey t-shirt. The form fitting Nike shirt clings to his torso, highlightinghis toned, muscular body and leaving his strong, tattooed arms on display. His jet black hair is still a little wet and tousled and there’s a small ghost of a smile on his lips. How he manages to look downright irresistible even in gym clothes is beyond my comprehension.
“Hi,” I say, a little flustered by the sight of him. “I came to talk, I hope that’s okay. But if you still need more space, I can leave…” I really hope he doesn’t need more time and space. The last 48 hours alone have been agonizing.
“No, it’s okay,” he replies, smiling, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I missed you and I want to talk.”
“Good. I missed you too,” I admit. I take a step toward him and he embraces me in a crushing hug that soothes my soul and allows me to breathe again. He curls his arms around my back, pressing me tighter to him as I burrow myself in the crook of his neck. He cradles my head in one hand and holds me close to him with the other.
Home.
The scent of his cologne, his touch that’s tender yet strong, the way I fit perfectly in his arms, and his unfairly gorgeous face that makes my heart skip a beat. All of it is home to me. And I think if I can package up this feeling, bottle it, and save it forever, I would. Because I never want to know what it’s like to miss him again.
“Come on,” he replies, tugging me forward and bringing me deeper into his apartment. “Let’s talk.” He takes my hand and leads me over to his black leather couch that’s situated in front of a TV nearly the whole size of the wall. We both sit and he mutes the basketball game that’s currently on.
“Can I go first?” I question. “There’s just a lot I need to say.”
“Sure,” he nods.
“I am so fucking sorry for keeping things from you and I know that simply apologizing won’t make up for that. I knowyou don’t trust me yet and you shouldn’t. I haven’t earned it and the fact that I left and didn’t contact you for three years doesn’t exactly instill trust in me either.” I look up at him, my gaze connecting with his. Willing him to believe the words I’m about to say. “But I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you and proving to you that you can. From now on, whatever you ask me, I will answer honestly. I don’t want there to be any secrets between us. I’m not running from this ever again. But I do want you to keep an open mind about something.”
“About what?” he wonders.