Page 2 of Kassir and Rebel
“I guess just you,” she says before stepping into my space. “Are you sure you want me to leave? I can stay; I’m off tomorrow.”
“I’m sure but I’ll get up with you soon.”
Her hand glides across my boxers then she gently cuffs my dick. She drags her tongue across her lips then bites her bottom lip before looking up at me.
“Don’t keep me waiting too long, Serious,” she says before releasing my shit.
I step to the side and she walks back into the living room. I follow and watch as she bends over, not bothering to pull her dress over her fat ass that’s poking out. Before grabbing her shoes, she glances back at me. As fine as she is, she still has to go. I will not have her here when Kassan arrives.
“Yo, you ready?” I ask. “Your ride is about to pull up.”
Disappointedly, she utters, “I guess I am. Are you going to walk me out at least?”
“Tyshon, go on. You know your way out. Plus, I’m not dressed.”
“Alright,” she says while shaking her head. When I walk over to the door, she takes her sweet time then joins me. Before opening it, I lean in and peck her cheek. “I’ll let you know when I get home.”
“Bet,” I tell her before opening the door. The moment she’s gone, I press the button on my wall to open my shades to my balcony then rush to my room to shower.
Almost six years ago, when Douglasville Projects was upgraded in the hopes of watering down our predominately Black hood, the one hundred percent income-based apartments were turned into market-value rental units on the first through fifth floors and units to own on the sixth through tenth floors. Suleem and I opted for ownership and purchased the entire top floor. The original four apartments were converted to two extra-large ones. Mine has two bedrooms, three baths, and my weight room.
The moment I’m out of the shower and dressed, Linnea texts that she and Kassan are downstairs.
Chapter 2
Rebel Parks
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have begun our descent into Diamond Falls. The local time is one forty-five p.m. and the temperature is a nice eighty-one degrees with clear skies. Please ensure that your seatbelts are fastened, tray tables are stowed, and all electronic devices are turned off and stowed. Thank you again for flying Federal Airlines,” the pilot says, so I remove my earbuds and power off my iPad.
Here goes nothing,I think as I mentally prepare myself to return to Diamond Falls. When I left six years ago, my broken heart vowed to never return but, here I am, minutes away from my only true home I’ve ever known.
Me: Landing in twenty.
Bestie: Yes! Miss Chandra is going to be so surprised.
Me: I know but I’m stopping by your place first. I’m going to need to pregame before I walk back into that building.
Bestie: I got tequila on deck. Can’t wait to see you.
Thank God for Teaira. She’s my girl and the one person who keeps me grounded. We’ve been tight as hell since the day I was dropped off to Mama Chandra. I was thirteen years old and mad at the world. My birth mom abandoned me once again but this time felt different.
Unlike the other five times she had either left me at a neighbor’s or forgotten me at school, this time, she left money, forty-two dollars, and her necklace. The only piece of jewelry she owned and cherished was left in our motel room next to the crumpled bills. I didn’t go to school that morning. Instead, I stayed hidden in that musty room the entire day. When I woke up the next morning, she still hadn’t returned.
I was used to her binges or escapes. They usually lasted a few days. Most times, she would return before Child Protective Services could step in but there were five occasions she hadn’t. During those, I was temporarily placed in foster homes. However, she always came back for me. It might have taken a few months sometimes but she would complete the parenting classes, find a job, and hustle up a place to stay to satisfy our case manager.
That last time, she didn’t. When housekeeping reported that a twelve-year-old was all alone in Room 109, CPS swooped in. After spending hours in the cubicle with my new case worker, I was taken to the drive-thru of Taco Express for my usual last meal before placement in my new temporary foster home. Days went by, followed by weeks, then months. My mom hadn’t returned and I got angry. My anger increased with each additional day, and after six months, I was furious.
My anger manifested in everything I did. I fought my classmates, my teachers, and my foster moms. When the thirdfoster family kicked me out, my two bags were packed and I was driven to Miss Chandra Wright in the Douglasville Projects. I gave her hell my first months with her but she never gave up on me. Never. I’m the woman I am today because of her.
“Close your window shade, please,” the flight attendant says, pulling me from my past.
After nodding, I close the shade and try to relax. While I’m not afraid of flying, I hate landing. With closed eyes, my hands grip the sides of the seat in front of me while I take deep breaths. My eyes remain closed until the wheels smack the tarmac, skipping as they slow down then come to a complete stop.
My seatbelt is unfastened in two seconds flat and I’m up out of my seat, impatiently waiting to get off this plane. As soon as it’s my row’s turn, I snatch my bag from the overhead compartment and bolt off the plane. Luckily, I don’t have to wait too long for my bags and I’m seated in an iDrive by two forty-five.
For the next twenty-two minutes, I just want to relax, clear my mind, and mentally prepare for these three weeks back home, back in D-Ville, back near him. However, the universe has other plans. My doorbell camera alerts me, followed by my alarm.
“What the fuck?” I utter before quickly opening my camera.Cameron! Seriously!Totally disregarding my driver, I press the talk button and scream. “I’m going to call the police!”
