Page 7 of I Love to Hate You
My long-time friend, Simon Martin, approaches my house in jeans, sneakers, and a black tank top. His thick arms swing at his sides, and the muscles within them twitch and jump with each movement like he’s flexing to show off, but anybody who knows Simon knows he’s not the type to show off. He’s just a naturally muscular guy who isn’t above using his size to intimidate people on the streets. Around here, you use whatever you have at your disposal to keep yourself safe.
Simon and I shake hands before he sits down next to me on the top step of my porch, looking out into the crumbling street as cars drive by slowly. We find ourselves looking inside each passing vehicle just to make sure they’re only going slow because of the potholes and not for a more violent reason.
“I got suspended,” I reply, smirking.
“Again?”
“Yeah, but it’s been a while since the last one, so I won’t have to appeal. I think they’re just going to let this one slide since I’m so close to my degree anyway.”
Simon leans over and bumps his thick, dark brown shoulder into mine. “I’m surprised you're on the verge of graduating with that temper of yours. So, who’d you beat up this time?”
We both chuckle because we know it’s true. “You and me both. I had a reason this time, though.”
“That’s what you always say,” Simon jokes. “But the truth is, you just like trying to John Wick everybody at the school. You’ve been a bully since we were little. You better stop before theyexcommunicadoyour ass.”
“I’m nottryingto be a bully,” I shoot back, but there’s a smile on my face that suggests otherwise. “I’m telling you, I had a valid reason this time.”
“Whatever you say, Suge Knight.”
I laugh before saying, “Fuck you. I had to do it this time, man. This kid didn't leave me much of a choice.”
Simon leans back onto his elbows, settling in for another one of my stories about college, a place he knew he would never attend from the moment he learned what a school was.
“What happened? Somebody actually started shit with you?” he asks.
“Sort of,” I reply. Simon scoffs, but I keep going. “In order for me to get my degree, I have to pass my Retail and Sales Management final that’s coming up. I’ve been struggling with that stupid class all year, so I’ve been using this kid named Justin Owens to help me stay above water.”
“Using him to help you?” Simon asks incredulously.
“Yeah, like … he gives me answers to tests sometimes, because he's an assistant in the class and can get access to the answer keys. He doesn't like doing it because he’s always trying to be a nerd and do the right thing, but I need the help.”
“So, you’ve been forcing dude to break the professor’s trust and use his job as an assistant to sneak and get you answers all year, and when he said he didn’t want to do it for the final, you beat his ass?”
“No,” I say quickly, before ruining my argument with the truth. “I didn’t beat his ass … it was his brother.”
Simon bursts into laughter. “What? You beat up the guy’s brother?”
“I had to. I have to pass this class, and it was the only way to get Justin to do what I need. The final isn’t for another week and a half, so I’ll be back early enough to be good for the test. I had to do what I had to do.”
Simon laughs a little longer, shaking his head while he looks at me, smirking. “Little Solomon King over here.”
“What?” I blurt out, throwing my hands up. “I don't have time to cater to this kid’s feelings of morality. I have to pass this class. I didn't come this far just to let it all slip away now. So, I handled it. Don't give me any shit, Simon, you would've done the same thing.”
“Maybe,” he says with a playful shrug. “But I’m not the one in college trying to make my mama’s dream come true, whiz kid. That’s all you.”
“You’ve got a lot of nerve judging me. Aren’t you the one who set a kid’s garage on fire when he found the bike that you’d stolen from him and took it back? That was you, right?”
Simon’s eyebrows shoot up. “It was my bike! I stole it, sotechnicallyit was mine, which makes him taking it back illegal. It was theft. He committed a theft of my stolen property. He thieved me. I’m a victim.”
“Hethievedyou? Oh my god,” I say, before falling into laughter with Simon.
“Shut up,Deebo. How about the time you beat that guy up for defending his own girlfriend?” he asks, returning fire too quickly for me to stop him.
“She wanted me, bro,” I say. “That guy was cock blocking, and where we’re from, cock blocking gets you beat up.”
“That girl literally told you shewasn’tinterested, and you still beat up her boyfriend.”
“Her lips said she wasn’t interested, but her eyes said she was. So, I was confused by her mixed signals.”
