Page 6 of Down With the King of the South (Down With the King of the South 1)

“Heavier? Which means that in the past I was heavy?” she asked me.

I don’t even know why I said that shit. I regretted it the moment it came out of my mouth.

“I’m playing, shorty,” I said, and there were about five minutes of silence.

“I gotta tell you something, Giovonte,” she said, and my eyes instantly shot to hers because just like my ole girl, she rarely called me by my first name.

With my hands on the hood of the car as I stood between her legs, I looked down at her.

“What is it?” I asked.

She took a while, but then she reached up and grabbed one of my hands. She held it in hers for a few seconds before she brought it down and placed it on her stomach.

“I’m pregnant,” she said, and I snatched my hand away from her stomach like her shit was on fire.

I backed away from her and began to pace back and forth. My hands were on my head as I walked up and down the parking lot where we were standing. Truth be told, I almost wanted to cry. My ole girl was going to fuckin’ kill me. She preached that shit in my head a million times a fuckin’ day how I better not make her a grandmother yet. She kept my drawer filled with condoms, making sure that I was protected at all times. I wasn’t even thinking about myself or my future in this situation; instead, I was thinking about how this shit was going to hurt my mama. Trip even preached to me about wrapping my dick up.

Taylor was my girl, and I knew this was an immature thing to say, shit even risky, but sometimes I wanted to feel her without the rubber. Even with that, I thought we were safe because she’d been on birth control for almost a year, which is what she told me.

“I thought you was on the pill, shorty,” I finally found my voice and said.

She looked at me as if I had offended her or something.

“I am! I was, for that matter, but there were days when I would forget to take them. I was doing it all wrong. If I would skip a day, I would just take the pill for the next day, and—”

“Don’t you think you should have told me that you were skipping days? If I knew that, I would have wrapped my dick up, yo! Fuck, man!” I yelled and punched the air.

“Giovonte, why are you mad about this? I thought you would be happy,” she said.

For the first time, I really had to look at her like she was slow or some shit. I’m talking short, yellow bus type of slow.

“Fuck you mean why I’m mad? I’m seventeen years old, on my fuckin’ way to college in a few months to play ball. This shit just set me back like a motha fucka. Why would I be happy? I want kids, but not right now, shorty. Something as big as that has to happen when everything falls into place. Let me at least make it out of college first. What about you, shorty? You got accepted into UCF, or did you forget about that? Man, my mama is going to fuckin’ kill me, yo!” I said, and I was back to pacing.

“Ohhhh, this is what this is really about. Your mama, right? Are you sure you’re not fuckin’ your mama because sometimes you act like you are! You care too much about that bitch!” she spat.

My ole girl had been teaching me since I was like two to never put my hands on a woman, but hearing Taylor talk down on my ole girl made me snap. I quickly walked over to her, and my hands wrapped around her neck. I didn’t apply much pressure, just enough to let her know not to fuckin’ play with me!

“Yo, watch your fuckin’ mouth! I’m sorry if I’m not one of those niggas who goes around disrespecting their ole girl. If that’s what the fuck you want, then go look for one of them lame ass niggas, but you sure as hell won’t find that shit in me. I was raised by a beautiful, black queen, and you or any woman that I deal with will accept that shit. I care too much about her because she raised me all by her fuckin’ self, and she brought me into this world, so I’m going to always respect her more than I respect anyone else. Fuck out of here with that bullshit, man!” I spat, pushing her back a little bit, and then I let go off her neck.

“I’m sorry, Vonte. I just didn’t expect for this to be your reaction,” she cried.

This was the first time I had ever really seen Taylor cry. For whatever reason, her tears moved me. It calmed me down a little bit.

“Come here, man,” I said and opened my arms.

She quickly got up and walked over to me. Her head went crashing down into my chest, and I held the back of it. She would never know this because she wasn’t looking at me, but I shed a few tears my damn self. We weren’t ready. I damn sure wasn’t ready. I had a future. I would never have had unprotected sex with Taylor if I knew that she wasn’t taking her pills the way she was supposed to.

“I love you, shorty, but I’m not ready for a baby. Neither are you. I’ll give you the money for the abortion when I drop you off,” I let her know, and she snatched away from me.

Taylor went and sat back in the passenger seat then she slammed the fuck out of the door. For her sake, she better be lucky that she didn’t break my mama’s window. She could be mad all she wanted. I said what I said. I wasn’t ready for a baby right now.

Jashae Johnson

Love Jones had gone off an hour ago, and instead of changing the channel to something else, I ended up rewinding it and starting it over from the beginning. I could watch this movie all day long if given the chance. I loved everything about that movie. My lonely ass loved the sex scenes even more. As much as I loved this movie, I couldn’t help but become overly emotional every time I watched it. This was one of Trip’s and my favorite movies. Back when he was home with me, this was something that we would watch together every chance we got. I missed those days.

I hated what Trip and I had been reduced to. Yesterday’s argument had put a lot of shit in perspective for me, and it kind of made me realize that I deserved better. Hell, my grandmother, my daddy, Trip’s mother, even Mahogany had all been telling me for years not to sit around and wait for a man who was never going to get released from prison. I loved Trip more than I would probably love any other man aside from my daddy and my son, but I wanted more. I could see if he was understanding and at least trying to make this relationship work, but these days, it was constant arguing.

I was actually glad that I declined his offer to marry him a year ago when he’d asked. I didn’t want that. I wanted a beautiful white gown. I wanted my father to walk me down the aisle, and I wanted my husband to be dressed up in a suit and waiting for me at the altar. I didn’t want Trip to marry me in his jail uniform. My son thought that I was in my feelings all day today because of Trip cursing me out over the phone last night, but I was actually in my feelings today because I could feel me removing myself from this situation with Trip. At least, that’s how I felt right now. He could get on the phone with me tomorrow, tell me a whole bunch of sweet nothings, and my dumb ass will be running right back to him.

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