Page 11 of Her Savior
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“Did he ask for your number?” Tasha asks.
I shake my head as I dig into my In-N-Out cheeseburger. After I arrived home, I tell Tasha about my day and most importantly, Mr. Man.
I wish I could say I paid attention to my internship and I didn’t care about Mr. Man at all, but trust was, I did. Too much. I could still smell his woodsy cologne, feel his baritone vibrate through my body, and remember how soft his hands were when he helped me up.
Immediately, my inner thot started to dance and do the freak-nasty. My calm, good girl remained focused at the internship. I ain’t about to embarrass myself in front of all of those white folk.
I’m supposed to be watching my weight and not eat so much red meat but fuck it. Sometimes a sista needs a cheeseburger to save her life. “I don’t know who he is. I wouldn’t give my number to just anybody, no matter how fine the dude is.”
“What about Jalen?” She asks.
“What about Jalen?” I repeat.
“Aren’t you two dating?”
One of Jalen’s other chicks posted a pic on her IG, talking about how much she loves her some him. And of course, the hashtags:
#hemybaby
#itsusagainsttheworldbabe
#justmeandmboyfriend
I bet Tupac is rolling around in the grave right now, looking at that post and going, ‘You’re using my lyrics with that nigga?’
I know what I am to Jalen and so does he. If I claim him, I’ll be called a bird and random fools asking me why did I want to be a part of some dude’s harem? So, I never bother. It doesn’t stop the other girls from taking random digs at me, though.
I wish I had the energy to be petty but the way my relationship with Jesus is set up…“Dating is one way of saying it. The apt title is fucking and it’s nothing for Jalen to be concerned with. Besides, he’s busy with the others right now.”
Tasha shakes her head and I hope to Tupac’s soul, she doesn’t fix her mouth to say some bullshit. “You deserve better, Keish.”
“I know this,” I’m surprised she was smart and respectful in her reply, “but until that dude comes, Jalen is it for now.”
“Why are you settling?” Tasha asks. Well, bitch, I could ask you the exact fucking question with Mr. SoundCloud. “What does he have to offer besides a big dick and money?”
“I want you to repeat what you just said and tell me what’s wrong with it,” I reply. My phone interrupts the conversation and I’m thankful for it. When I see who’s calling me, I’m not-so thankful.
My mother.
I quickly swallow my food and put her on speaker. “Hello?”
“Keisha, my baby!” Andrea Harris booms through the phone. Her tone is laced with saccharine and I already have a toothache. “How are you, darling?”
“I’m fine,” I try to make this short and sweet. I know Andrea didn’t just call me out of the blue for nothing. “What’s going on?”
“I’m having a birthday bash at the LIT club tomorrow night!” She cheered. “I want you to come.”
My mother’s ascent to reality-show darling isn’t without drama. She and my dad never married for reasons I’m still not entirely clear about. My father claimed my mother didn’t want to marry him (he’d asked three times) and Andrea claimed she didn’t want to marry someone who wasn’t serious about life.
Now that last point is interesting because Andrea has curiously bounced from rapper to athlete to rapper, often leaving me home with my daddy, while she was out chasing whatever baller could afford her.
She left a long list of victims…erm, partners…in her trail and she finally landed the good enough prize she’s always wanted – King J.
King J is a well-past his prime rapper who’s only known for one hit he actually made as a duo with a guy named King C. They were, of course, known as The Kings. King C went onto become one of the most influential and powerful men in the music industry while King J…well, is the king of ratchet reality.
Have Andrea tell you, King J and her were always meant to be together but I think that’s a bunch of bullshit. King J is also best known for having multiple baby mamas and no one is quite sure how much money that Negro actually has. He’s not broke, but he damn sure ain’t rich. Not by a long shot. Daddy has way more money than him.
