Still sobbing, Mekayla flung open the door the door to her loft letting it bang up her amber painted wall. Unaware she left the door open, she quickly shuffled to her computer desk, took out the drawer, and flipped it over on top of the desk. There taped to the underside of the drawer was her emergency stash of green. She furiously wiped at the tears dropping from her face as she delicately removed the small baggie from the drawer. She then went into her bathroom and found a package of rolling papers in the basket of towels. She walked back into the living room, got a book off of her bookshelf and took everything to the pillow area. As if on cue, Mekayla instantly stopped crying, because she knew being upset would fuck up her rolling pattern. She managed to roll three perfect joints that she left on the top of the book as she pondered her situation.
In her own definition of infidelity, Mekayla had just cheated on her boyfriend.
Whenever something bad happened to Mekayla, it’s her first instinct to call Kevin, but she couldn’t do that now. Left over tears flowed from her eyes as she lit the first joint and hit it hard.
No matter how wonderful Kevin seemed, there was no way she could tell him this.
She couldn’t tell Erik either.
Erik already hated Brett and would probably try to kill him on sight and make her watch.
Mekayla hit the joint again and wondered why she didn’t have any female friends.
It’s not that she wasn’t sociable, but females worked her nerves. Most females she came in contact with were from the poetry scene and to be honest most of them hated on her.
Some of them just used her to get close to Erik.
The rest of them were co-dependent idiots.
The only woman she seemed to get a long with was Autumn, her supervisor at the after school program.
Autumn was a fifty something white lady with very “liberal” views on life. She was very eccentric, wore great clothes, and antique jewelry. She even shared a joint with Mekayla one night after the two of them pulled an all-nighter at the center trying to figure out the up and coming year’s curriculum. But Mekayla didn’t socialize with Autumn outside of work so she didn’t have her number.
At the end of the first joint, she made a promise to herself to make some female friends.
Her family was a waste of time as well. She loved them all but Mekayla was never really close to her two sisters. Her older sister Madeline was fair like their mother, and Mekayla always assumed she was ashamed of being bi racial. Madeline never dated black men and never understood why Mekayla did considering their father died when they were young.
Her younger sister Monica was a lost cause. She now had three children by three different men and was somewhere in the city on welfare. Monica only called Mekayla when she needed money for the rent or for diapers for her nieces and nephew.
Mekayla helped her of course but to go to either one of her sisters for advice was pointless. Her mother, Adrienne, never dated again once her father Michael died.
Adrienne didn’t understand the long distance relationship and told Mekayla that on several occasions. She said with so many men, so close to her, she didn’t understand why she would inconvenience herself like that.
Mekayla never brought Kevin up to her mother again.
With no aunts or suitable feminine role modeled in her life, Mekayla was forced to deal with matters of the heart on her own.
When she lit the second joint she noticed that her front door was open so she wearily walked over to shut it. She then walked over to the fridge and pulled out a big bottle of water to relieve the cottonmouth she was expecting. She then made her way over to the pillows and sunk into them.
Guilt was consuming her.
She started to try to make sense out of what happened.
Why did she kiss Brett?
She couldn’t blame it on the alcohol because as tipsy as Mekayla was, she knew what she was doing.
It’s not that she didn’t love Kevin, because she did with all of her heart.
Mekayla reclined on her back and watched her breasts rise and fall from her view. Although they never fell from her view completely, she enjoyed the peep show she was giving herself because every time she inhaled, Mekayla could see the curvy tops of her breasts.
Mekayla was calmer now, she could think clearer.
She opened the water now and took a huge swallow. Some water dripped onto the curvy peep show, which made Mekayla smile.
She came to the conclusion that she was lonely. She realized that didn’t justify her actions but it made sense. It’s been quite a while since she has been in the company of a man, and although she loved Kevin completely, he has been neglecting her lately.
Maybe it was all in her mind, but that’s how she felt.
And Brett, well okay number one Brett was fine.
Mekayla hated to admit it to herself but he was. Not only was he fine, but he was persistent, but not annoying.
Mekayla enjoyed the fact that he found her attractive. She can’t remember the last time Kevin paid her an unsolicited compliment. Maybe he was at the comfortable, secure stage of the relationship where those accolades weren’t needed anymore.
Mekayla wasn’t sure what to make out of it, but when Brett kissed her, it was like everything she was lacking in her relationship presented itself and lingered on her lips.
Mekayla’s breathing became deeper as she recreated the kiss in her mind. Brett’s mouth fit hers perfectly, like a puzzle. There was no awkward misplacing of lips, no darting tongue, no accidental biting. It was smooth and fluid. Her mouth sunk into his as if it always belonged there.
Brett seemed to know when to kiss her deeper and when to let go and caress her lips with his. Mekayla actually heard his passionate moaning when he kissed her deeper and when Brett let go she could hear him sigh with satisfaction. That, made her want to kiss him again and again.
Even though she was dead wrong.
Since she was wrong, she chose to stay quiet and deal with it. Mekayla got up and took the third joint with her. She placed the drawer back into the desk and returned all of its spilled contents.
She also put the joint and the rolling papers in there
There was no need to hide anything anymore and she never knew why she did it in the first place. She sat down at the desk, shook her mouse and saw the beginning of her book.
I’m never gonna finish this.
She brought up a new Word document, and feverishly began typing what was on her mind, what she knew best-a poem.
i didn’t want to write this poem
because someone would read, this poem
and if i read, this poem
someone would hear, this poem
and they would judge me
by my poem
this poem encompasses
the liar i am becoming
and the whore i fantasize about being
dont give me that demeaning
the truth is
every one of you
at one time
has had those fantasies
and if you havent
as sure as you are
that i wasnt ready to write
because im wrong
now all the songs i hear on the radio
play more than melodies
they playin me
with my black thoughts
you breakin me off is intrusive
and i cant write that poem
because then they will know
they will see
they will hear
and i ain’t ready for that
nah, i ain’t ready to admit that in extreme instances
my mind has me spreading my poor decisions
on the hood of a car
closing my eyes
hearing his sighs
between my thighs
and i cant write about it
cuz its wrong, right?
you cant hear about it
in a song, right?
well yeah you can
like the subjects
of next lifetimes
whenever, where ever, whatever
i get high off of you
and my mind… is in that not quite coherent
consequence dont matter
than act on it
im reacting to it
scribbling through it
but its in me yall
coarsin through my veins
filling my lungs
rising to the back of my throat
so when i open my mouth
rhyme reverberates off my tongue
and i spit out
i feel like the blind on Braille
mink on bare skin
if bein a poet
is my sin
then i repent
on my knees
i didn’t want to write this poem
i had to
now you know the truth
the disgust with my desire
the pain in my pen
the rage on the page
the stages of my sorrow scripted
to read my poem
hear my poem
hate my poem
love my poem
lust after my poem
caress my poem
kiss my poem
diss or dismiss my poem
tear my poem
swear at my poem
pray for my poem, cuz its me
become my poem, cuz its you
so now do you
Mekayla sighed and walked back over to the pillows to grab the water bottle she left.
She was pleased with the poem but she couldn’t show it to Kevin because it would admit her guilt.
Shit she couldn’t show it to anyone.
She would just keep it to herself. She decided to sit on her fire escape for a while and clear her thoughts. She knew she could not see Brett again.
If she did she may give in to his desirous kisses and that would really mess up her relationship. Mekayla thought maybe it was safe to call Kevin now that her guilt was on paper and not dripping from her lips. No not yet.
She thought it would be better if she waited until morning. She walked into her bedroom and shed her clothes for a red satin robe. She grabbed a pack of cigarettes from under her bed and opened the door to her fire escape and shut it behind her. She jumped when she turned around because sitting at the bottom of the first flight of metal steps was Brett, dressed in black sweats. And her phone rang.
Brett didn’t remember beating Sadiah or leaving the alley. He didn’t remember walking home, climbing the stairs, or entering his room. He didn’t remember taking off his blood soaked sweater, or blood splattered pants. He didn’t remember putting his clothes into a trash bag before he meticulously washed Sadiah’s blood off of his hands, forearms, face and scraped the blood from his fingernails. He didn’t remember putting on his black sweats and leaving the room. He didn’t remember throwing the trash bag in the dumpster behind his building.
He did, however, remember Mekayla’s lips, her sighs, and her slight moans. If he closed his eyes, he could remember how her knees buckled when he grabbed her hips. He wanted to grab her breast out of her shirt and make her tremble, but he couldn’t do that, in public. He would wait until she invited him to her house.
Good things come to those who wait, and Mekayla was more than a good thing.
Brett came to the conclusion that her man, Kevin, was an idiot. Maybe he was wrong by telling Mekayla that he didn’t care about what Kevin thought, but it was the truth.
He didn’t mean to make her cry. He just wanted to show her that she deserved to be loved in every way. Brett hoped she wasn’t hurting because that was never his intention.
If Kevin weren’t neglecting her, there wouldn’t have been any room for Mekayla to stray.
He knew that Mekayla was a good, faithful woman normally, and he dug that about her.
But why didn’t Kevin see it? Did he not see the beautiful angel he leaves alone for lengthy periods of time? Why didn’t he realize that Mekayla needed to be admired and showered with affection daily? Brett could tell by her receptive kiss that she longed to be made love to. Her man probably didn’t know how to do that right either. He wasn’t good enough for her.
And if Brett did everything according his carefully thought out plan, Mekayla would be his by Christmas and he would propose to her on Valentine’s Day.
He wanted to call her but thought he would let the situation calm down some. He wanted her to reminisce on the kisses they shared. He wanted her to long for him like he longed for her.
Although he wasn’t going to call her, he needed to be near her.
So he decided to walk back towards the club where they first met.
He reached the alley where he kissed Mekayla and smiled slightly at the memory
until he looked at the dark part of the alley.
He stopped at the top of the alley and closed his eyes and flashes of what he did to that little girl jolted his mind.
I never meant to hurt her, honest to God I didn’t. But she didn’t know when to leave well enough alone. I hope I didn’t hurt her too bad. I should go look. But I can’t look. What if someone saw me? I gotta get out of here. I can’t think about that right now. I gotta get close to Mekayla.
Brett shook his head as if it was an “Etch-a Sketch” to erase the thought of Sadiah from his mind and continued down the street.
He reached the alley where Mekayla first playfully perched herself from a fire escape and smiled. That was the place he needed to be. He climbed up like a cat and then squatted at the bottom of the first flight of steps. He didn’t want to alarm the people who lived behind that door. The last thing he needed was to be arrested for something stupid. Mekayla didn’t seem to be the jailhouse wifey type. Nope, no way. He was going to play it cool. He would just sit here for an hour and replay the kiss in his head until he felt her mouth on his again.
Just then he heard the clicking sound of a lock. Brett’s heart started pounding out of his chest.
If he ran, he would look suspicious, so Brett just sat there. The screen door opened and he saw a pair of feminine legs step out onto the metal steps.
He looked up and saw her wearing a red satin robe. He then inhaled the air.
No it couldn’t be
But it was.
In front of him as if God was listening to his thoughts stood Mekayla who jumped and screamed at his presence.
“What the fuck?!” Mekayla yelled, ” What the fuck are you doing up here?! Are you following me?” Mekayla went back to grab the door and heard the phone ringing inside.
“Baby no.” Brett replied as he tried to stand up. “You live here?”
“Hell yeah I live here.” She said with her hand still on the door handle, “Not that I wanted you to know that!”
“Why not?” said Brett as he started up the stairs.
“Don’t come any closer,” Mekayla said.
He stopped himself in the middle of the stairs, “Again, I ask you why not?”
“Because tonight was a mistake Brett.” She replied.
“Was it?” He said smugly
“Yes.” Mekayla said none too confidently.
Brett chuckled at her response, “You sure?”
Mekayla just hung her head and sighed.
“That’s what I thought.” Brett slowly made his way up the steps while Mekayla leaned up against her screen door. He stopped at the top step put his leg up and rested his elbow on his leg, his head in his hand. If the wind decided to blow he would get a nice shot of Mekayla’s womanhood. She just stood there with her head down and her eyes closed.
“So did you think about me at all?” he paused slightly “Be honest.”
“I can’t answer that.” Mekayla whispered not moving her head or her eyes.
Brett stepped up onto the top step, stood in front of her and tilted his chin up with his finger. Mekayla opened her eyes and tears starting forming in them.
You just did.” Brett said as he kissed her passionately. Mekayla didn’t stop him; in fact she grabbed him by the back of his head and kissed him passionately but as she did, tears flowed down her cheeks. Brett felt them and pushed her away slightly.
“What’s wrong?” He said as he kissed the tears off of her face.
“You know what’s wrong,” she sighed with her head tilted back and her eyes closed.
Brett kissed her chin and down the front of her neck, “Don’t be afraid of what you are feeling. Go with it.” He said through the kisses as his mouth traveled down her chest drawing nearer to her breasts.
Mekayla pushed his head away, “I can’t.”
Brett kissed her again and moaned intensely. Then he playfully licked and sucked on her lips as if they were her womanhood. Mekayla remembered that from the first kiss and got weak instantly. She tried to push him away but Brett cupped the back of her head and kissed her harder. Then he let his hand slip under her robe and stroked her nipple. At that point Mekayla pushed him off of her.
“Stop!” she said angrily.
“Why!” Brett’s expression changed from satisfied to scowling.
“Because this has gone far enough,” she said started to get choked up.
Brett tilted her chin again and looked deep in to her eyes “He won’t know unless you tell him.”
“But I’ll know.” Mekayla went to open her screen door and Brett held the door.
She turned to look at him.
“Look at me in the eye and tell me that you don’t want this.” Brett pleaded.
“What I want and what I can have are two separate things.” Mekayla said dead in his face. Brett flung the screen door open and lifted her up pushing them through the back door. He carried her over to the bed and lay on top of her kissing her furiously. Mekayla pushed and kicked him off of her and jumped off the bed to the back door. Her robe was open and she was visibly shaken.
“I can’t do this!” She screamed.
“Ok, ok” Brett said getting off the bed with his hands up in the air in defense. He walked over to the door and walked out swiftly.
Mekayla quickly shut the door behind him and locked it. Brett looked back at the door and hung his head. He was down, but not out. He flew down the steps and began to walk back to his building.
He was having a hard time controlling the bulge in his sweats but when he got to the alley where he left Sadiah, his mood changed. He became solemn, and full of regret.
He headed down the alley to the dumpster where he left her. He was going to pick her up and take her back to the house, clean her up and then call the police. Mekayla would see him as a hero then, not some villain tryin to steal her from her man. Brett’s stomach started doing flip-flops at what he may have to witness. He took a deep breath and walked around the dumpster with his eyes closed. When he opened them, there wasn’t a trace of Sadiah.
Not even a blood splatter.
to be continued…