Page 4 of Tangled Hearts
“You good over there?” Rock asked through a yawn.
He was a light sleeper, which probably came from his many years of sleeping on the streets. Like Knycole, he didn’t have a great upbringing, either. His pops was locked up and his mother left him to be with her new man—something she did every other week, not giving a damn about him or his little sister. His grandmother tried to take him in, but he was too far into the streets by then. On occasion, he would sleep at his granny’s, and regardless of what he said, he was appreciative of having her in his and his sister’s life.
Now he and his best friend had a little spot they could both call home but when he wanted to be under Knycole, you could usually find him at her apartment.
Shifting her body towards him, her voice came out low. Bedroom like. “When you’re out there in the streets, do you think about me?”
“All damn day,” he replied without hesitation. It was true. No matter what people thought of their young situation, he knew he loved Knycole with all he had—even if it wasn’t enough.
“Then how can you find it in your heart to have me out here looking crazy?” The question had been asked many times before.
Kissing his teeth, he sat up, ready to go. “I told you, you think too much into shit. It ain’t that deep, Knyc.”
“But it is that deep to me. I’m the one out here fighting for you at least once a month, and I don’t like the feeling. If you want to act single, then be single,” she tried to reason with him.
“You stay trippin’ on me. I’m ’bout to go because I don’t feel like arguing with you all damn night. Plus, you got school in the morning.”
“Boy, whatever.” She rolled her eyes.
Rock got out of the bed in search of something to put on. Since he slept over a lot, he had clothes and things in her closet like he lived there. He grabbed a sweatsuit and put on the same pair of Jordans that he came in with. Fumbling around in the closet, he moved some things around —money and the sketchbook he hid at the top of her closet. Nick was a lot of things but he’d never steal anything from Knycole’s room. He might spend up her SSI check from her mama being dead but he wouldn’t take anything from her.
Once he had everything the way he wanted it, he walked back towards her. His face softened every time he looked at her. Knycole had his chest in a chokehold, but he was too young to settle for just that. Or maybe he had some of his mama’s wild ways embedded deep in his DNA.
“I’ll pick you up from school tomorrow, ok?” He bent down to kiss her lips, but she jerked her head.
“Yea, whatever,” she mumbled, not ready for him to leave but unwilling to beg him to stay.
Not wanting to argue with her, he didn’t say anything else as he made his way to her bedroom door. As soon as Rock unlocked the door and stepped out, he was met by her father, Nick.
“My main man.” He grinned showing his yellow teeth. “Let me get a little something until I get my check.”
Rock looked at Nick with disgust. He wanted to say no but knew if he turned him down, Knycole wouldn’t get an ounce of sleep for school.
Knycole held her breath, listening, praying Rock didn’t say no. Her night depended on it.
“Here, nigga, and you better run me my fuckin’ money on the first.” He reached into his pocket and retrieved the drug. Without looking Nick in the face, he dropped the baggie on the floor and strutted out the door.
“Thank God,” Knycole whispered. The breath she was holding could finally be released.
“Baby girl, you alright in there? I heard about that fight you was in.” Nick stuck his thin face through the door. Her once handsome father was shriveling away at only thirty-two.
“Yea, I’m good, Daddy,” she replied.
“Oh, I already know that. You a hell raiser like me.” He laughed.
Knycole didn’t reply. She couldn’t reply because she wanted to be nothing like him or her mother. They’d let her down ten times over, and she knew if she ever became a mother, she wouldn’t be anything like them.
She was determined to get good grades in hopes of getting a scholarship for college. She wanted to be a nurse with a minor in social work. She was born into this world addicted to crack, and it was a nurse who saved her life and brought her back to good health. Nurses were heroes, and she wanted to be a hero to someone someday.
Knycole laid there for a long time after her father finally disappeared from the doorway. The silence in the room wasn’t peace—it was just the absence of noise, and even that felt temporary. The fight outside, Rock’s half-truths, Shakeisha’s mouth, her daddy’s habit… all of it tangled in her chest like wire hangers. Twisted up. Pulling her in too many directions at once.
She didn’t cry. She didn’t even blink long enough for a tear to form. But her heart was heavy because no matter how hard she swung or how much she cussed, none of it changed the fact that she kept giving herself to somebody who didn’t know how to keep her. Rock wasn’t all bad but love from him came with conditions. Terms she didn’t fully understand but kept agreeing to anyway.
Then there was Nick. The man she loved so much because he was all she had; however, he loved her like she wasn’t worth giving up drugs for. Terms and conditions.
She looked around her room, the only space that ever felt halfway safe. She tried to slow her breathing. That night left a new scar. Not from the fight. Not from the yelling. But from how quickly love could feel like survival. How close it sat to pain.
Andthatwas the problem.
