Page 8 of Off the Charts
“Mr. Denver,” I answered. It was Doctor Banks letting me know they were ready for us in the office. “We’ll be right over,” I ended the call.
“The principals are ready for us. I’ll make sure the most he gets is a day,” we stood at the same time. “I know we are three weeks away from the end of the year, but if you’re okay with it and he’s open to it, I can plan to meet with Zion in an effort to get him to communicate his feelings.”
She nodded. “I would love that and I believe he will too. Can you also make sure he has his medications on time too if that’s not too much?”
“I can do that,” I assured her. “I’ll send a schedule proposal to you. Once you sign off on it, we can move forward. Deal?”
Miss Lane nodded. When our hands met, I felt a surge of electricity shoot through my body. From the hum she released, I knew she felt that shit too. I didn’t know what it was and neither did I know if I liked it.
“Tha—thank you for everything. I appreciate you for putting up with my shit.”
“It’s my job. The details of the other student’s discipline will be finalized soon and when we have them, I will also share them with you.” I followed behind her toward the door. My eyes were so trained on her ass that I forgot one more thing. Reaching in my pocket, I retrieved my phone and opened the phone app. “Before you go, put your number in here.”
Miss Lane shifted. “I might need to ask for a handbook. You start off cussing, now you tryna shoot your shot? Did you forget that my son was just in a?—”
It was my turn to cut her off. “The first thing you said when you came in here was call me when he acts up,” I mimicked her voice the best I could. “I’m only respecting your request.”
Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she snatched my phone and entered her number before handing it back over. She slipped away without another word.
“And Miss Lane,” I called after her. When she turned, my eyes slowly moved from her thick ass hips to her beautiful ass face. There was something about her large, dark eyes that I wanted to learn more about. Stepping into her space, I leaned in closer than I intended, moving my head down toward her ear so she could feel my breath against her skin. “I’m a grown man. If I wanted you, I would have you right here,” I tapped the palm of my hand twice. “Remember that.”
The waves of desire
Silence filledmy car as I left Sweet Pea Academy. It wasn’t anger that left me without words, it was my own guilt. Zy was affected by our separation more than I’d realized and somewhere during Solomon and I’s split, I’d placed my son’s feelings on the back burner. I hadn’t taken a step back and put myself in his shoes to see that I’d uprooted life as he knew it and expected him to be okay with that.
Although it took a lot out of me to make this drive, conversations needed to be had regarding our son. The first thing that caught my attention was what used to be my Q7, had a new license plate and was parked behind Solomon’s truck onsome his and his type shit. I shook my head at the fact that they were now playing house, but that was their life to live, not mine.
When I left Solomon six months ago, I had no clue what I was going to do. With the help of my mom and sister I moved into a three bedroom, two bathroom rental townhome with just enough space for Zion and I. It wasn’t what we were used to, but it was more than enough. Paying bills was an adjustment, and after a month or so I got into the swing of being independent. In February, I purchased a car off the lot. It wasn’t luxury, but it was brand new and most importantly in my name.
I parked, shut the engine off, then angled my body so I could see Zion’s face. “How about you come sit up here with me kiddo?”
Zion raised his head to look me in the eyes before nodding and climbing into the passenger seat. His head was still down while he twiddled with his fingers.
“Hey,” I grabbed his hand in mine. “I’m not mad at you.”
Zy fought it for a second, but his emotions were on a high and seconds later, the tears flooded his face. “I never meant to disappoint you, Mommy.”
My heart crumbled into pieces as I wrapped him up in my arms. “I’m not disappointed, baby boy.”
“You promise?”
“I promise,” I pulled him back so he could see my face. “I’m angry with myself for not putting your feelings first and I apologize. I know there have been a lot of changes to your life that I haven’t talked to you about, I just sprang them on you and that’s not right. Because of that, a lot of your emotions may feel like they don’t matter, and they do. You’re my number one priority,” I swiped a tear from his cheek. “I’m so sorry that you have had to go through that alone. Mr. Denver said he’s been bullying you for a year. Why haven’t you said anything?”
Zy wiped his face with the back of his hand. “It wasn’t that deep because words are just words, Mom. Plus, it’s easier to protect you than have you worried.”
“You’re a kid, Zy. I’m the parent. You don’t have to protect me,” I stressed.
“But I do,” his voice raised. “And one day, I will be a man. Daddy always told me I have to protect you, so when Ryan said that you were going to be single forever, I had to put my hands on him!”
My head went back in offense. “How the hell that lil’ nigga know I’m single?”
“Well, you and Dad stopped coming to the PTA meetings together and Dad didn’t come to Donuts with Dad in February. They suspected it then started spreading it around the school.” That alone set a fire in my bones remembering that Solomon stood our son up with no explanation. I glanced at his house then back at Zy. “But Mom, his daddy never comes to anything! Kids suck.”
“They do. He tries to hurt my baby again and he better hope his mama knows how to fight.”
Zion chuckled. “I heard his mom is a crackhead.”
“Well next time, you make sure you call his mama a crack headed hoe and say it just like that.”
