Page 56 of Catfish

Grant Hardison is my fucking headache at the present time. I tried to enjoy my day with Mama, attempted with everything in my ability to just let it go—I just can’t.

It bothers the living shit out of me that he makes and goes out of his way to be in my life. I broke his pride, he wants something, just don’t know what.

And I don’t care.

But I still have to address.

“Did you want to stay another day?” Sadie asks. “I mean, we can, we don’t have an appointment until Sunday and—”

"I already plan on coming back in two weeks. Mama will be fine."

“Are you sure that’s all that’s wrong?”

It's at the tip of my tongue to tell her about Grant, but I refrain.

She won’t understand.

Sadie doesn’t know how it feels to go to bed hungry every night and wonder if someone’s going to break into your home to rob you or worse. The fear that protruded in not knowing if Marty was going to get shot because he ran drugs after school to keep money in Mama’s purse to buy her prescriptions.

I don’t remember life before the age of about ten. I just remember Marty always being there. Forever in my corner, making sure my ass got to school and that my ass didn’t get kicked by the bitches who tried to always start shit with me.

“You might need to drive me back to Ma’s,” I tell her. “Just want to let loose tonight.”

She gives me a weak smile and picks at her white drink napkin. "Okay, no problem. I can be the DD tonight. Just stop being an asshole to the bartender, so he actually brings us more drinks."

“Just looking out is all.”

Because I didn’t have a father and yours died when he shouldn’t have.

Uncle Johnny bought me cigarettes, though Mama would've killed him, and made sure Marty and I had clothes to wear. He saved up his quarters so I could wash our laundry at the mat and did the best he could with what he had. His job was always going on strike, and he tried to pick up extra side-jobs here and there. But he had Aunt Jenny and Sadie to take care of, Mama, Marty, and I weren't his responsibility.

Our drinks are served, and I immediately take a large sip to calm my shattered nerves. Glancing down at my cell, I do what I should've done a year ago and tell Grant to go fuck himself all the way off.

Me: Grant, while I appreciate you trying to help Mama, you can stop sending your men over to do her yard and housework. I have it handled moving forward. Please just cut all ties with us, we’re doing fine.

I take another gulp of my drink, satisfied with my professional choice of words, when Sadie nudges me.

“Drink, because we’re doing karaoke.”

“You mean you’re doing karaoke.”

“C’mon,” she laughs. “You can do Achy Breaky Heart.”

“Hell no.”

“But you sang it so well,” she jeers. “Knew all the words.”

“We were kids and still not happening,” I reply as my phone vibrates off the wood countertop of the bar. Immediately, I grab it, just for my heart to start working again.

Chase: Hello, Sox.

I don’t know what it is.

If it’s the fact that he was thinking about me, that he hasn’t asked me out on a date, or that he’s just someone I can speak to with no strings attached—but I really enjoy my stupid chats with Chase. I like that he’s a mystery and doesn’t pry too much into my life.

That I get my damn space.

However, the thought has crossed my mind about meeting him, I just don’t think I’m ready for that yet. I’m all about giving myself some time to heal and be untethered to anyone.

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