This was going to be the last time I texted him. It had been a whole week, and I hadn’t heard from Harlem. He asked me to live in Atlanta, and I really was prepared to, heck, and would probably still move if he ever decided to answer his damn phone.
“Brucey, have you heard from Harlem,”? I asked.
“Nope, he has been M.I.A. ever since yall went out,”. He said. “What did you do to him,”?
“Shut up Brucey,”. I replied. “ I dint do anything to that boy,”. I laughed, but inside I was furious. Who did Harlem think he was? You can’t go around asking people to move in with you, and then ignore them for a week. What was his problem? I thought.
“You are such a fool,”. I thought to myself. “You really thought that he wanted to be with you, and he just met you,”? I thought some more. I continued to bombard myself with self loathing thoughts when my phone rang. Without even looking at the caller I.D I quickly answered it.
“Hello,”. I anxiously said.
“How’s Atlanta,”. My mom asked.
My enthusiasm significantly dwindled, and I replied with a dismal “It’s OK ma,”.
“What’s wrong,”? She asked. “Nothing Ma,”. I whined.
“ Okkkkkkkaaayyyy, I was just calling to see how you were doing,”. She said.
“I’m having fun,”. I replied.
“I know my kids, Eartha, so tell me what’s wrong,”. She persisted.
My mother was right. She knew me better than I knew myself, and today she was dead on. I had a serious attitude, but what was I going to tell her? I couldn’t tell her the truth that I’d traveled miles chasing a love that may or may not exist, and that I was thinking about moving to Atlanta with a guy from New York I barely knew, who wasn’t answering my phone calls. The truth wasn’t an option, not at all. My mother would have chewed me out in more ways than one, and would’ve been justified, but right now I wasn’t in the mood. I just wanted to get off the phone, and talk later.
“Ma I’m fine,”. I said. “I’ll call you later,”.
What Harlem didn’t know is that I wasn’t your average girl. I wasn’t the girl who just sat around and waited for prince charming. I was the girl that kept about three back-up princes in the closet just in case the first one didn’t tickle my fancy anymore. I had princes on payroll ready to take his place. I was a keep-your-options open kind of girl, and he was merely a supporting cast member in MY show. Nonetheless, his disappearing act, I had to admit, was reeking havoc on my mental, but I had others to keep me preoccupied.
“So I hear you are talking to Mister, and you guys are in love,”? CR said.
CR was a guy from school I knew liked me back home in Youngstown. He was a cute guy, very kind to me, and offered me the attention that I should have took heed to, but , being young and unenlightened I didn’t. He was a sweetheart, though, but I just didn’t feel that way for him. I gave him my number just as a courtesy, and I, arrogantly, assumed that was enough to satisfy him.
“Huh,”? I replied. I understood his question I just didn’t want to answer it.
“So is it true, do you and Mister talk,”? He relentlessly asked.
I didn’t really know where this Law and Order interrogation was coming from. CR and I had only talked on the phone a few times, but we were not headed anywhere, but where we were. There had been no verbal contract of any sort between us because there was no need to. I wasn’t interested in him. I just wanted to be friends, but I saw that this probably wasn’t an option.
“We did talk, but we don’t anymore,”. I replied even though it was none of his business.
“So are you guys in love,”? He asked. CR really didn’t want the answer to this question, and I didn’t want to be the one to deliver such gut- retching news, but I guess it was now or never.
“CR, yes we kind of are, but it’s complicated,”. I said. The next text would be one message that would go down in my personal hall of fame of “the one that got away”.
“Eartha, I really care about you, and I know that I care more about you then Mister, or whoever else does. They don’t deserve you, and I know he can’t love you like I can,” CR pleaded.
Even though I was texting I was at a loss for words. “Damn,”. I thought. Why couldn’t I just like him? He was perfect, and never pissed me off, yet I kept chasing these idiots, who seemed to make it their personal mission to mistreat me.
I should have told CR I had a change of heart, and that he was who I wanted to be with. I should have just called him, and lied, but I think that would have been worse.
“I am sorry CR,”. I wrote. “You are a cool dude, and I love talking to you, but I just cant force myself to feel that way about you,”.
I never got a text back, or heard from CR again.
The next day I was unusually happy. It was a sunny day, yet another scorcher in Atlanta so I guess my ass would be inside again under the AC (I have asthma I couldn’t take that risk).
I hadn’t really forgiven myself about CR, but we were only 18- years- old, and he would get over it. I wasn’t thinking about Harlem, well not as much as before. I was just relaxing, and prepared to take on the beautiful day.
I was sprawled-out with my feet up in my Aeropostal shorts and a tank on my aunt’s chair that was in the shape of a stiletto when the door bell rang.
Brucey answered it.
“Why ain’t nobody answering my phone calls,”? Harlem asked. “I’ve been calling y’all all day so we could do something,”.
“Oh no he didn’t just come up in here like I haven’t been calling and texting his ass for the past five days to no avail,”. I thought to myself. This nigga must’ve thought he can run some New York bull, but he surely has the wrong one with me. My mama hadn’t raised a fool.
Fireworks blazed in my head, but when he approached me I held my composure. He was not about to get the satisfaction of witnessing me get out of character on account of his inconsiderateness.
“I don’t have my phone t’s in the bedroom, and I haven’t check it all day,”. I said.
“Oh, OK. I’m trying to do something today,”. He said. “Are y’all down,”?
“Sure we where do you want to go,”? I asked. “Anywhere,”. He replied.
Brucey had mad dashed in front of me to go get dressed, and I continued to move in slow motion towards the bathroom to take a shower when Harlem grabbed my arm.
“I’m sorry ma,”. He said in a whispered tone so only he and I could hear.
“Sorry for what,”? I asked. I was prepared to remain in nonchalant character for as long as it took. I could have won an Oscar that day.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been returning your calls,”. He said. “I just got a new job, and I been working twelve hour shifts,”. He said.
“I usually just sleep during the day,”. He said while trying to sound convincing.
He was persuasive I’ll admit, but I’ve been tired before , and still shot a text to someone so I definitely wasn’t buying what he was selling, but I had to get out that house so I let him slide.
‘It’s cool,”. I replied.
“Yo. For real don’t be like that. I’m sorry,”. He said while staring directly into my eyes.
Damn, he had gotten me. I wish I could say that I stood my ground, and continued to play my position like a short stopper (shout-out to Nelly), but I didn’t. I melted faster than ice cubes left on the kitchen counter too long.
The rest of the day was fun-filled. We walked hand and hand through the Lenox Mall, and he got me ice cream, chocolate chip cookie dough, my favorite. We drove around some more, dropped Brucey off, and ended back at his place.
We sat and watched some movies, and ate T.V. dinners. I watched the sun set from his balcony while he took a shower. Later he joined me.
‘Yo ,you still thinking about moving here,”? He asked. “Why so I can be stuck at your apartment for days, and you not respond back to me,”. I snarled.
“Yo,” before he could finish I cut him off. “I’m just playing,”. I said.
“Yea you should come stay here for real. I think you would like it here,”. He insisted.
“I know I would love it, but I just don’t know,”. I said.
He went outside to get something out of his car when I saw his computer was still logged on to his Myspace page.
Now usually I don’t do this but, hell I’m lying. I hopped on that PC faster than Hayley’s comet. I needed to know why he was too tired to return a call, but seemed to be awake enough to interact on Myspace.
I didn’t have much time. I scrolled through his friends rapidly. I saw nothing out of the ordinary in his top twelve except a Hispanic girl with long blonde hair who was one position higher than I thought she should be. I looked on his wall still nothing. I was feeling optimistic about love until I got to his messages, and saw a conversation that said it all.
My woman’s intuition had served me well again. He and the Hispanic young lady had been carrying on a conversation for the past week just about as he had been ignoring me. She was from New York, Brooklyn to be exact.
He told her she was cute, and she responded she thought he was fine himself. He went on to tell her about all the things he would have liked to do to her given the right space and opportunity. She replied with a few smiley faces and that is when I stopped reading.
Immediately I was angry. I mean, who wouldn’t be. He had made it seem like he and I would end up like a Disney fairy tale, and I had put a down payment on this fallacy of a dream.
“WTF,”! I thought. I had fallen for the wrong one again.
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