Page 31 of Saint Baptiste 2

We locked eyes and I lightly shrugged. “We do talk.”

She shook her head. “No, we don’t. Not like we used to. Not about,” she paused and motioned toward me. “This. Something is wrong. I haven’t seen you cry since we were kids.”

Something was wrong.

There was a lot wrong.

The ‘ugly shit’ was still on the surface. I couldn’t put it back. Not even sex with Saint had been enough to rebury it. That was how I knew something was horribly wrong. I was afraid there was no burying it. I was afraid I couldn’t hide from it anymore. Seeing her... seeing him. Them. It had brought it all to the surface. Not in the way that Sage had brought it to surface. This time, it was here to stay. There was no mask to hide behind. No dirt to cover it.

“You know what we haven’t done in a long ass time?” she whispered, after I didn’t answer her.

“What?” I breathed out.

“Sit by the water, get high, talk, laugh... shit, just be,” She said with a smile I felt against my cheek. “When is the last time we did that?”

We were going to talk. There was no more avoiding. No more running. Just... time for me to face the music. Time for me to tell her the truth. As much of it as I could anyway.

I giggled and wiped my face with the back of my hand. “That day I put flats in three of tires on Denim’s Yukon and candy bars in his gas tank.”

She laughed. “Bitch we got the fuck out of the hood so fast.”

“Mmhmm. In his Caprice,” we both laughed. “He had the whole hood out looking for me. Talkin’ about he would have called the police on me but he ain’t no snitch.” I paused and sniffled. “That nigga was mad for days.”

“We stayed out there until the sun came up,” she reminisced.

Life was simpler back then. Hell, and chaotic, but simpler. I was nineteen and free. I thought I was, at least. Physically, I was free. Mentally? I wasn’t. I was suffering. I pretended I was okay. Pretending back then was easier. Everyone was having too much fun to notice or give a fuck. I was too much fun to have anything wrong with me! Not Naoki! The hood chick with the bubbly, wild, carefree personality.

I hated for people to see the real me. Who I was underneath the pretty face, deep dimpled smiles, raunchy jokes, charisma, and promiscuous ways. I needed people to see me at my best. I had to be, although... really, I was really fucking broken.

They didn’t know though.

No one did.

“Mmhmm,” I agreed. With a light chuckle I added. “Your daddy was mad.”

“As hell,” she paused and exhaled. “We need one of those nights.”

Instead of responding, I sat up. With my head low, I sat on the floor with my knees pulled up to my chest, eyes to the floor, shoulders heavy. Felt like the weight ofeverythingsat on them. Her pitiful eyes on me, that ugly shit, defeat, heartbreak… just… everything. I hated it. It was too much for me to carry. Part of the reason I chose to lay in bed all day every day was because of that weight.

“Tonight?” She softly asked. “Well, tomorrow... whenever?—”

“Tonight.”

If we waited for tomorrow, I’d run. And if I ran, I would risk losing the only person that truly cared about me. I almost lost her. Almost let the past ruin us. I never let it get in the way of our friendship before, I couldn’t let it get in the way now. Sienna had given a lot to the friendship—it would only be fair for me to do the same.

“Okay.”

I took in a deep breath, shook my head, and turned to lie back down but she stopped me.

“We can sit here for five more minutes. After that, you’re going to eat breakfast. Then, you’ll shower while I find you something to wear, okay?” She told me.

I didn’t say anything, just sat there, trying to mentally brace myself for what I knew would come. There she was again, mothering me. Bitch had turned into such a mother since having children. It was cute. It was that authority that constantly got me. I appreciated having someone that really cared about me though.

“I need you to say okay, Kiki,” Sienna pressed.

“Okay,” I whispered.

Today time was on crack. One minute I was having a meltdown, the next I was laughing over cartoons with Dream, eating beef bacon. That was how emotionally erratic I was. How emotionally erratic I had to be. If I truly succumbed to all of the pain I was in, I would lie down and literally wilt away. But I couldn’t let that happen. Breakfast over cartoons with Dream, while Baby Jah cooed in his bouncer, and Sienna ran around tidying up, wouldn’t let me. I had people. I had a reason not to be defeated.

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