Gettin' Hooked (16 page)

We
were just a few hours south of The Bay—home—now, the towns slippin' by fast and blurry. Just midday, the sun was makin' a whack-ass attempt at peekin' through the daily Pacific fog, but at the least the air was moist, so different than 'Zona, where we'd spent the last couple of days.

The closer we got, the bigger the ball of nerves tightening up in my gut. Things weren't figured out yet, and when I rolled back into the hood there was still a hella lot of junk for me to sort through. Drama that wouldn't quit two-steppin' across my mind.

Mostly my relationships with my fam. It's hard to hear the answers and at the same time know deep down that the decisions they made were made out of love. To want answers, but also want things to go back to the way things were before the truth about my momma was revealed.

Takin' a breath, I pulled down the visor and adjusted the angle of the mirror so I could peep Kayla sittin' in the backseat. Her blond hair was pulled back into twin French braids I'd done for her that mornin', and her wide eyes were turned to watch the scenery as we passed, just as I'd been. Reminding me just how similar we were.

There was an ugly weird thang between us right 'bout now, and though I loved this girl—she was my cuzzo, my blood, my heart—I'd be lying if I said shit wasn't strained. I was deeply hurt, but at the same time, we'd always been so close, and I hella wanted the tightness of our relationship back.

Though, I have to admit, last night helped mend the gap some. We ended up havin' to stop at a hotel again, even though we'd hoped for a straight-through drive. Kayla and I were able to sleep in the car while Maurice drove, but he'd had as little sleep the night before as I had. He was hexa drowsy behind the wheel.

So we'd checked into a telly room, puttin' the cost on my card again, knowing there was plenty of cabbage to cover it, though explainin' to my daddy later wasn't gonna be easy. I could only hope he didn't look too close at what I was spendin' his grip on.

The room was a double, two queen beds. Kayla was gonna take one, while Maurice and I cuddled up in the other, but it was only a quick little sec before my boo drifted off to deep sleep and my cousin and I were left with nothin' but the local Bakersfield news, which hella wasn't local to us.

So I'd climbed out of bed with Maurice and climbed in with her. We pulled the blankets up over our heads the way we used to do when we were little and had secrets to share.

And damn, I mean dayum, they weren't secrets, but she did have lots to share. Back in 'Zona, I'd looked for this opp, but someone was always around, so this was our first quiet alone time since she'd bailed. And there were so many questions about James and what had happened between them that I was trippin' over and dyin' to ask.

Startin' with the hickies I'd seen tatted across her skin, right down to the loss of her virginity. I already knew that had gone down, I just wanted to make sure my girl was cool with it. And that they'd used protection.

So in the dimness of our comforter-covered world, my anger slipped and we just became who we were, cousins and best friends. That part was so easy, so comfortable for us.

So I asked the questions, and my girl rolled out the answers. “Did it hurt?” was the first thang I wanted to know, followed by “You all right, girlie?”

And tears were spilled. Not for the reasons I first thought, but she cried because she didn't feel any different. She thought she would. Thought stars of wonder would explode, thought she'd feel altered in her skin. Older, more mature or some shit like that. But she was just the same old Kayla, and what had started as perfect and special for her was plain and over kinda quick.

When she was through spittin' about James, we moved on to rehash what had gone down in the club, and how Maurice had claimed me as his girl, then tussled over it. And while she explained how she saw it go down, I couldn't wipe this silly-ass grin from my face.

We even talked about MySpace some, how we missed parts of it, of not being in charge and lettin' somebody else handle it.

After a while, I noticed that we avoided talkin' about what had happened after. What had been exchanged between us while looking into that reflection, only showing features but not bright enough to highlight the differences of our skin.

And so we dozed like that, cuddled into our bed cave, just as we'd done since we were just itty-bitty girls.

In the mornin' we hit the road again, and since then it'd been a quiet ride of beats and rhymes on the radio, us shifting stations as we shifted through towns toward home.

I was still lookin' in the visor mirror at Kayla when she turned away from the window and caught me starin'. Her blues locked on mine, and
powww—
there it was, the old understand. The instant knowledge of whatever whacked emotion I was feelin'.

“I'm sorry.” She formed the words with her lips, but didn't make a sound.

And my vision blurred with tears right quick. I knew she was sorry. I felt it down to my bones. Squeezin' my lids hella tight, I took a couple deep breaths before I looked back at her.

“You think your dad can make some kinda password or somethin'?”

Her eyes went so round I almost laughed. “Prolly. If he can, you think we can keep Gettin' Hooked goin'?”

I bit my bottom lip as I glanced at Maurice. He'd been watching the road, but must have felt my eyes on him, 'cause he turned my way and smiled so cute it made my insides go warm.

I turned my gaze back to the visor so I could see Kayla's reflection, and I nodded.

“I still need a prom date,” she whispered.

“I know.”

Maurice took my hand. “You don't.”

Nah, I didn't. Not anymore. From GettinHooked.com I'd gotten exactly what I wanted. I had my man. My girls still needed the opp to feel what I was feelin', to hook up with a hella fine brah who makes 'em feel as good as being with Maurice made me.

“Thank you, Imani.”

“For what, girl?”

Kayla giggled lightly. “For comin' after me. For bein' my girl.” She swallowed. “For forgiving me.”

A big ole fat lump formed in my throat and I had to swallow a couple times to clear it out. I flashed her a smile, but quickly turned away, leanin' my forehead on the cool window glass, my hand still warm in Maurice's.

I'd forgiven Kayla because her actions had been done with love. So, then did I need to hold on to the bitterness and anger I was feeling toward Gram and Daddy? For my auntie, the sister of my deserting momma?

Who was at fault here? My grandmother had done what she'd felt was right, always resentin' my momma's lack of care, but still always tryin' to provide me with that relationship. And I hella wondered how much did my daddy even know.

If I confronted them, there'd be pain and tears and anger. What would it serve? And shit, the truth was, did any of it matter? They all loved me. My uncle, my auntie, my cousins. My grandmother and grandfather before he died. My daddy fo' sho'.

The only one who'd failed was the one who'd left me. The one who didn't deserve me. Didn't deserve to get enough credit to come between me and my real family. The family who was part of my life every day.

Lookin' out the window, I could see my wild curls and wide dark eyes. I could even catch a glimpse of my skin tone, the light brown sugar and honey, the silver streaks of tears trailin' on my rounded cheeks.

I sniffed them up, which Maurice must've heard, because his fingers tightened reassuringly just to offer a little comfort.

I never had my momma's love. And ya know what, I don't want it or need it. I had Maurice. I had my family still, all there to support me. And most important, I have me.

I love who I am, and who I'm gonna be.

Keep that, and I had everything.