Page 63 of Girl, We Go Together
“Finally,” I mumbled to myself.
I had been waiting for the bus in the pouring rain for almost an hour. The light at the top of the bus readNot in Service.
“FUCK MY LIFE!” I couldn’t help but yell, which caused Oriana to start fussing in her stroller.
I’d hoped that since she dozed off, the trip home would be silently peaceful, but I could see that having a fussy baby while waiting in the rain was what I would be forced to deal with. Fed the fuck up, I just looked to the heavens. The rain was pouring down on me as I silently asked myself why? Had I not been through enough? I was in the middle of the sidewalk, in the rain, with a crying baby and a broken umbrella.
Honk, Honk
The sound of a horn made me look toward the curb. The passenger side window of a red Maxima rolled down, and Kassidy leaned over, looking at me.
“Get lil mama and get in.”
I stared at him for a bit because I was hesitant. He didn’t even have the decency to text me the night before. That, and niggas weren’t out here doing favors for nothing in return.
“I’ma take y’all straight home,” he reassured.
It was like he was reading my mind. Still hesitant, I stood there for a minute. When the thunder roared, I pushed my stroller in the direction of the car. Kassidy jumped out of the driver’s seat and walked to the curb to help me.
“Y’all gon’ be sick as a muthafucka.”
After removing the plastic cover, I grabbed Oriana out of the stroller and sat in the back with her. I turned around to see Kass fighting with the stroller, trying to get it closed to put it in the trunk. Although we were standing in the rain, I needed the laugh. The way he was shaking the stroller had me holding my stomach in laughter. His bushy eyebrows were dented in determination as he tried his hardest to close it.
Other than me directing where to go, the ride to my house was a silent one. Kass had the heat blowing at full blast. I kept blinking my eyes because the force out of the vent had my false lashes about to blow off. They were already holding on by a dab of glue after being caught in the rain. We were stuck in traffic on Atlantic Avenue, and that gave me a moment to observe Kass. He kept looking back to check on us at every red light.
Since high school, he had always been good-looking; he was just nerdy. Those braces and thick glasses were gone. His brows were lowered like he had an attitude. That was really his resting face. His chiseled face was clean cut, besides the low-cut goatee he had.
After sitting for an hour in traffic, we finally made it to my apartment. The rain had slowed, which was a blessing to me. Once I showed him how to assemble Oriana’s stroller, I placed her in it. Kass stood on the side and watched. Once she was securely strapped in, I checked to make sure I had my purse and her baby bag out of his car.
He stood on the sidewalk and watched as I pushed my stroller up the ramp to my building. I turned around, waved, and gave him a slight smile before using my key to open the first door to my building. When I got to the second part of the lobby, I thought about checking the mail, but decided against it because it wasn’t like some money that I desperately needed was in there. I turned around and, through the glass windows and doors, I saw that Kass was still standing there. Assuming he must have been waiting for something else, I walked over to the stairs and prepared myself to haul the stroller up the five flights.
When I bent down to pick up the stroller, someone started banging on the door behind me, so I put the stroller down and then threw my head back in frustration as I sucked my teeth. This was what I hated most about living in an apartment building. Besides the constant noise from my neighbors, peoplenever seemed to have their key to the main door, so they would ring anyone’s buzzer to get in. I ignored the banging, lifted the stroller again, and started up the stairs.
Kass
I didn’t know why I was standing outside in the damn drizzle, watching as this girl made it safely in. My mom was a single mother until the day she was killed, and I hated how cool of a chick Cayla was, and she was subject to the same shit. Don’t get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with being a single mother when you’re doing it by choice. My heart bled for all the single mothers out there who didn’t predict that as their future. I couldn’t help but notice the sway in her hips as she walked further into the building. I could tell she was laying it on extra thick because she knew that my ass was watching.
When I saw her get to some stairs, I was confused as fuck. The building was big as hell and looked like it had an elevator or something. Like most buildings in New York, I was sure the elevator was probably broken. I quickly jogged up the five stairs that led to her building and then turned the handle to the first glass door, but it was locked. I banged on the door to try to get Cayla’s attention. This girl stopped trying to lift the stroller and then threw her head back in what I could only assume to be frustration.
It seemed like she’d had one hell of a day. I didn’t know how the entire day had panned out for her, but I knew getting caught in the rain with a baby couldn’t have been a highlight. I used my balled fist and banged on the glass door harder when I saw thegirl lift the stroller and then walk up the stairs. I didn’t care if she lived on the second floor or the top. I wanted to help her.
“Umm… excuse me.”
A woman’s voice behind me stopped me from banging. When I turned around, she had a key in her hand. I stepped aside to give her the room she needed to open the door. Once she did, she stood in the doorway, blocking my path.
“My friend needs help with her stroller.”
That damn lady looked me up and down and then stepped aside to let me in. I waited for her to open the second door for me before I jetted up the stairs.
“Whew…” I heard Cayla breathe out when I made it to the third level.
“Y’all elevator doesn’t work?”
She quickly turned around to face me. “We don’t have one.”
I grabbed the handle of the stroller and then pushed it toward the stairs that led to the next flight.
“Which floor do you live on?” I asked as I looked at the big number three that was plastered on the wall beside us.
