Page 19 of A Boy Is a Gun: Part II
Another woman is on stage talking about how to unlock your fullest potential and some other mumbo-jumbo about a guttural cleanse.“Are you willing to do what other people won’t?”She screams to the crowd.“Are you willing to let the haters claim, ‘you’re crazy’?Do the thing that scares you!Do the thing that makes you lose some friends and make some enemies!Do the thing that unlocks your fullest potential!”
I’m feeling emboldened now.That Indian girl on stage is spitting hot fire, and I’m about to show Cameron IDGAF about him, his bitch, and the clique he claims.I’m the Female Tupac!
My back straightens, and I quickly walk through the crowd, careful not to spill a single drop.I’m moving with the precision of a cat burglar, twisting my body in the tightest of spaces.I’m careful not to bump into anyone because my‘fuck you’eye is on the prize.
I see the back of Cameron’s head, who has a front-row seat to all of the performances.The typical lithe, manic pixie dream girl is snuggling against his chest, and I feel like Zack de la Rocha in a fully-packed Rage concert.Fuck the system.Fuck men.And motherfuck him!
I practiced an opening line in my head.I was going to tell Cameron how I felt about him,his little enterprise, and how he ruined my life.I hoped to hell I would never see him ever again.And no, I wouldn’t give him the benefit of replying to me.Fuck that!I will serve and be on my way before he can say shit to me!
I sneak up behind Cameron, calmly place the saucer on the small table in front of him, and turn to leave when he suddenly grabs my wrist.Every single emotion I ever felt for that man just bitch-slapped me in the face.All that‘I hate men’and‘fuck them all’just dissipated, and I folded like a picnic lawn chair.
Don’t turn back.Don’t turn back.Keep moving.Yank your arm back.Yank your arm back, bitch!My mind is on overload, yet my heart is yearning.Ugh, I still love that man.I love everything about him.Well,not everything.But the things I do love about him outweigh everything else.
It’s been seconds since I served Cameron his coffee, and he hasn’t let go of my wrist.My mind jumps back into gear, and I remember he’s here at my place of business with another woman.Oh, that’s right—I need to go back tofuck youmode.
I gently pull my arm away, and Cameron does the unthinkable: his grip is tighter on my wrist.Now my body remembers how he used to grab my wrists when he was on top of me, looking down at me as his chain dangled, and smiling with every thrust he gave me.
“Does my angel like that?”
“Yes, baby...”
“Mm...I want you to scream it,” he licks my neck, “scream my name....”
“Angel...”I hear his low voice over the poet, and my body vibrates with his baritone.
I look back, and boy, that was a wrong decision.Cameron’s eyes are locked with mine, and my body is weaker than J.Lo’s vocals.Cameron looks like sex with his loose hair, Alexander McQueen sweater vest, and jeans.His full lips are pursed into a kissable pout.
And he’s demanding my attention.“We have absolutely nothing to say to each other,” I wrestle my arm away and make my way back behind the bar.I felt like Kamala when she said, ‘We did it, Joe!’and I’m on top of the world.I officially told Cameron, the drug lord white boy, to fuck off, and life is great.
Hayley and Jamie are staring at me with wide eyes and shocked faces.“How did it go?”Hayley asks.
“I told him to fuck off, but not in those words.”My smile is the biggest smile ever to smile.“And it feels good.It feels good to tell him to get out of my life.”
Jamie and Hayley look at each other.They both know me too well to know I would never say such a thing to Cameron, no matter how much faux feminism I think I have.“Did you say that?”Jamie asks.
“Well, no,” I clear my throat, “but I wanted to!And I think he gets the message!”I nod.In my mind, I told Cameron to fuck off.He got the message.I said that even though it never came out of my mouth.My body language said it, and that’s all that matters.
“You sure he got the message?”Hayley nods behind me.“Because it looks like he surely didn’t.”
I turn around and see Cameron talking to the cashier.He’s smiling, and she’s eating up everything he’s saying.He’s laying it on thicker than a jar of peanut butter—those goddamn Pages.
That man could charm a nun out of her cloak.He always knows what to say, when, and most importantly –howto say it.Cameron can pretend he loathes his father, but it’s clear as day he learned it from the best.
I walk up to the front and interrupt the banter.“May you be helped, Cam?”
“Why yes,” he turns his attention towards me, “I told Keisha here that I will gladly make sure everyone gets a huge tip tonight if she lets me talk to you privately for a few minutes.”Cameron pulls out a massive wad of cash and slides it over to me.“This is ten thousand dollars, and you have eight employees here tonight.Ten thousand divided by eight means an excellent night for everyone.”He locks eyes with me again.“You don’t want to disappoint your employees, do you, Taylor?”
