“Well, I got nothin' to say to you, girl,” I yelled back, holding the phone so tight my knuckles hurt. “And I'll hang up on you anytime I like!” I slammed the phone so hard this time that I wondered if I'd broken the receiver. It didn't matter—I didn't care.
Almost immediately, the phone rang again. I thought about jerking the cord from the wall and throwing it across the room, but instead I took a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. Aisha obviously wasn't getting the hint.
I picked up the phone on the third ring and hollered: “Why aren't you getting this, you moron? I don't want to talk to you!”
Just before I slammed the receiver back onto its base with a thud, I heard Chase's sexy voice floating through the line. “Man,” he said, “I thought you'd be missing me by now.”
I pulled the phone back to my ear.
He said, “Well, since you don't wanna talk to me, I guess I'll just hang up.”
“Chase,” I cried. “How are you? How's camp? What's going on? Do you like Seattle? How does the team look?”
He laughed. “Hey, let me answer one question before you throw out seventeen more. And anyway, who did you think I was? Calling me a moron!”
“Never mind about that.” I had forgotten all about Aisha. Chase had erased that situation, just with the sound of his voice. I wanted to climb through the phone line and hug him. “I've been waiting to hear from you. How have you been?”
“It's been something,” he declared, but his tone was full of cheer.
I sat on the couch and listened intently as he told me about his routine: waking up at five in the morning for meetings, then going out on the field for practice. Then it was back to meetings. After the team dinner, the day ended with more meetings. “The night meetings usually last till around ten,” Chase said. “Sometimes twelve, depending on what the coach thought about the workout.”
It sounded grueling to me. But I could tell Chase was loving it. “So, the Seattle Storm, huh? You know, I've always been more into college football than the NFL, but if I recall, that team's not too pitiful,” I teased.
He chuckled. “They used to be great. Until about three years ago, when they lost their best receiver to free agency. Still, working out for this team is a great opportunity. They have twelve wide receivers here in camp, and they're probably only gonna keep five or six. So neither the politics nor the statistics are on my side. But I'm grateful to even be here.”
“You're a great wide receiver, Chase. Probably better than any guy out there.”
“Thank you, Zoe. You know I believe that,” he said with confidence. “But the pro league is different from college. They got the best of the best here. I know I'm good, but everybody here is great. And some of these guys got big signing bonuses and contracts already. So I don't know how this is gonna work out. But you know what? The Lord knows, and that's good enough for me.” Without waiting for my reaction to his comment, he said, “But that's enough talk about football. How are you doing?”
“I'm good,” I said. Part of me wanted to tell him that I'd been thinking about him constantly, but I didn't want to appear too aggressive. Besides, I still didn't fully understand where all these feelings for Chase were coming from, and I didn't know what would happen if I revealed my feelings to him. We'd been good friends for a long time, and I didn't know if taking our relationship to another level was what he wanted. If we did get more intimate, could we still remain friends?
“So, are you going to tell me why you answered the phone the way you did?” he asked again.
“Oh, don't worry about that.” I really didn't want to talk about Aisha. I only had a few precious minutes with Chase and I wasn't going to waste them talking about Devyn's whore. “So, what do you do in your free time? Check out the Seattle females?”
“Free time?” He chuckled. “Every minute I got, I'm in my play book trying to study. It's all I can do to find time to get on my knees and pray every day.”
I noticed he didn't say he'd been thinking of me. But I understood how stressed out he was. The only thing he could think about was football. “Look, I know you don't have much time to spare, so I'll let you go. But I'm really glad you called.”
“I just wanted to let you know I made it here okay. I'll be in touch. Take care of yourself, okay?”
“I will,” I promised.
I hung up the phone and looked around the living room. Empty soda cans, napkins, wrappers and used paper plates were scattered throughout and I realized that I'd been wasting all my time eating and watching TV. That had to change.
I spent the rest of the week cleaning up the apartment. When I woke up on Sunday, it was spotless. I tossed the jeans that I'd been wearing into a laundry basket and put on a casual pantsuit. Then for the first time in over a week, I headed out the door. My first stop was going to be the grocery store to pick up some healthy snacks and a newspaper, hopefully filled with classified job ads.
But when I got to my car, I noticed that my two back tires were completely flat. “This is ridiculous,” I groaned, kicking one of the tires as if my venting would make it return to its normal size. What could I have run over that would have put holes in not only one tire but two?
I walked to the front of my car. Those two tires were fine. It was strange. Then, a second later, it hit me. Aisha!
“Why can't that crazy chick leave me alone?” I fumed out loud. I stormed back into the apartment and called the police.
“I want to report a crime,” I said. “And I'm pretty sure I know who did it!”
“Please hold,” the operator said.
I waited for ages, listening to stupid elevator music and tapping my foot. I was getting angrier by the minute.
I don't know how long I was waiting, when I heard a knock on the door. The Muzak was still playing in my ear, so I hung up. I would take care of Aisha later.
I opened the door and stood shocked, but only for a moment. I tried to press the door closed, but Aisha held out her hand just in time.
“Get away from this door!” I hollered. “You already done cut my tires. Ain't that enough for one day?”
“You're trippin', girl! First you don't wanna speak to me on the phone and now you're tryin' to slam the door in my face. What's wrong with you?”
“What's wrong with me?” I screamed. “You're what's wrong with me, you lunatic!”
“Lunatic? Look, we need to talk.”
“And why should I talk to your crazy behind, you tire slasher?”
“Hey, I didn't cut your tires,” she said.
“Oh, okay. So I'm stupid now? I got dummy written across my forehead? Go tell it to somebody who believes your crazy lies.”
“Well, I got some things to say to you. So you gonna let me in, or we gonna stand here hollerin' at each other, huh?”
I crossed my arms in front of me, not budging.
“Look, Zoe, I ain't done nothin' to your tires. You gotta learn not to accuse folks without proof to back you up.”
“So, are you saying you did it, but there just ain't any evidence to prove it?”
“No,” said Aisha, but a shiftiness in her eyes told me she was lying. “I ain't sayin' nothin'. 'Cept that you need to stop tryin' to get back with my man!”
“What are you talkin' about? It's over with me and Devyn. Clearly over. The last time I saw him, he was here only for a few minutes to pick up his junk—”
“Yeah, right,” Aisha cut in. “He came over here several times last week to get the rest of his stuff. And I'm sure you remember the last time. Especially since you took off all your clothes and wouldn't let him leave. You got a lot of nerve, girl, tryin' to force yourself on my man.”
Now I knew that both Devyn and Aisha were crazy. “What? You can't be serious!” I couldn't believe the stories that Devyn had been telling his girlfriend.
“Then yesterday he came home with hickeys all over his neck. Girl, I ain't stupid. I know you put them there.”
“Oh, so he just let me put hickeys on his neck, huh?”
“You callin' my man a liar?”
“You figure it out. As far as I can tell, that boy's pullin' the same mess on you that he gave me for years. I never saw it till it was too late. I was a real fool. Seems pretty obvious that you're one now too.”
“Don't you go callin' me no fool, girl!”
When she stepped back to swing at me, I pushed the door closed, locking it right away. Shaking with fury, I crossed to the window and stayed there until I saw Aisha finally slump into her car and drive away.
I rushed into the kitchen, found the phone book and scanned the Yellow Pages. I called until I found a tire shop that was not only open on Sunday but also credit-card friendly. It took less than an hour for the tow truck to come, taking me and my car to the shop.
“How long will this take?” I asked the mechanic.
He looked me up and down, making me shift uncomfortably. “Not too long. What? You're in a hurry?”
I shook my head. I didn't want to make the man who was going to work on my car mad, so I just returned to the waiting room. I sighed, knowing that it would take at least an hour and I would be totally bored. But then I noticed the newspaper stand. I bought a paper and immediately turned to the classified section, searching through the employment ads. But even though I studied all the listings from accountant to zoologist, I didn't find anything that I was qualified for or that looked at all interesting.
“Are you looking for a job, little lady?”
I looked up at the mechanic leering at me.
“Is my car ready?”
He nodded, and I gave him my credit card. It seemed to take forever for him to ring it up, but when he handed me my keys, I rushed out of there.
When I got back to the apartment, I changed my clothes and then plopped onto the couch, ready just to watch TV. Then I didn't really want to do that anymore, so I went into the bedroom. Since I had never unpacked, I had to go through my suitcases, pulling out the outfits that I thought would be appropriate for a job interview, if I ever found something worth applying for.
As I lifted my red dress in front of me and looked in the mirror, I realized what a mess my hair was. My hibernation and sudden cleaning spree left me looking like a wreck. I needed to take care of myself so I'd feel better about wherever God was going to take me. I spent the rest of the night washing and pressing my clothes and trying to bring more order into my life.
First thing the next morning, I called Keisha. My hairstylist was one of the few who worked on Mondays, and she told me she could squeeze me in if I came right away.
“Ooh, child,” Keisha squealed as she washed my hair twenty minutes later. “I can't thank you enough for giving me all those referrals. How many bridesmaids did you have? About seven?”
“Yeah,” I said, trying not to think about that awful day. I wondered why she would bring up the subject. I was sure that everyone already knew what Devyn had done to me.
Keisha picked up on my misery. “I'm so sorry you got left at the altar like that,” she said, rubbing my head with a towel.
“Yeah, it wasn't cool.” I squirmed in my seat. I could feel every eye in the shop turning toward me, and they were all filled with pity.
Keisha didn't seem to notice my embarrassment. “I heard that Aisha girl was in a gang once. But I never found out if the rumor was true.”
Keisha led me to her stylist chair. I didn't respond to her comment at all, hoping this would give her a hint.
“Your girlfriend said you should've known,” Keisha continued as she combed out my hair. “She said that boy cheated on you all through college, but you stayed with him anyway.”
I felt the tears coming to my eyes.
“Girl, once a dog, always a dog. Like I always try to tell the ladies that come in here, you gotta keep your eyes open.”
I prayed that she would just stop talking.
“We women can't afford to be naive these days. But your friend said that's what you were—naive.”
“Who told you all this stuff?” I cried, not able to hold it inside anymore.
“Now, you hold still, dear,” Keisha said, grabbing the sides of my head and positioning me. “How short do you want it?”
I couldn't believe Keisha didn't understand. “I don't care,” I said. “Just make it look nice.”
Keisha pulled a long pair of scissors from a drawer and scrutinized my face, her head tilted. Then, with a decisive nod, she started chopping away.
“So?” I pressed. “Who told you all that stuff about Devyn?”
“I think she was your matron of honor. Well, maid of honor,” Keisha corrected herself. “She came in here the other day just flappin' her gums about you.”
I sat dumbfounded, staring at the mirror before me but not really seeing anything. How could Tasha, my best friend, have been so casual about spreading my business all over town? I knew we had issues, but this kind of betrayal really hurt.
“You know, I thought y'all were tighter than that,” Keisha said as if she could read my mind. “But you know how folks are. Smile up in your face, then talk behind your back. It ain't right. But you sure ain't the only one. I lost my best friend when I took over this shop.”
“You mean Chantay?” I asked. I didn't really care who Keisha was talking about, but I was glad to be talking about someone else's problems.
“Oh, yeah. You notice she don't work here no more. When the owner sold this shop to me, Chantay got mad and left. Couldn't stand to see me do good. That sounds like the same mess you're in. Your girlfriend seemed almost happy that you got embarrassed; I guess 'cause she wasn't the one gettin' married.”
I just nodded, annoyed that the conversation had come back to me.
“Now, please don't tell her I said nothin', 'cause she's been in here a couple of times since the weddin', so don't mess up my money. But I'm tellin' ya on the sly Zoe, that girl ain't your friend.”
For the three hours I sat in that shop, I thought about what Keisha had said. Tasha wasn't my friend. And as I drove home with those thoughts still consuming me, my pulse raced and my breathing quickened. First Devyn, then Aisha. Now Tasha. I couldn't take much more of this pressure. It was coming from all different directions. I needed a release. I needed to get away. But where could I go? What could I do? Whom did I have to turn to? I couldn't even trust my best friend.