Authors: Dwayne S. Joseph

Growing Pains (17 page)

BOOK: Growing Pains

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No! No! No!

Tears clouding her vision, Deahnna stumbled back into the dressing room, pressed her back against the wall, and sank down to the ground, drawing her knees up to her chest.

No! No!

She buried her head between her knees as her shoulders shook with each hard sob, as she relived the nightmare she'd just experienced minutes ago when she laid eyes on Jawan, who'd been staring at her with eyes filled with shock and disgust.

“No!” Deahnna said, her throat tight, her chest tighter. “No!”

She couldn't believe it. Tried not to. Tried to will herself to wake up from the very, very bad dream she was having.
Please
, she begged.
Please let me be dreaming. Please don't let this be real
.

She cried and felt her heart break and shatter into an infinite number of fragments as she watched behind her closed eyelids, in horrific high definition, a replay of Jawan shaking his head and then storming out of the club. Over and over and over in the span of a few minutes. “No,” she said again.

“Honey?” Regina said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Was that him?”

Her head still buried, Deahnna nodded.

“Oh, honey,” Regina said, her voice filled with sympathy. “I'm so sorry.”

Deahnna raised her head slightly and looked at Regina through her tears. “Why did this have to happen?”

Regina shook her head. “I don't know, honey.”

Tears fell harder and faster as Deahnna buried her head again.

“What the fuck is going on?” the club's owner, Marvin, yelled, stepping into the room. “Deahnna, what the hell?”

Unable to speak, Deahnna kept quiet and kept her head buried.

“Marvin, just give her a break and leave us alone for a minute, all right?” Regina said.

“Give her a break? Are you kidding me? I have paying customers out there wanting to know what the hell's going on! I'm losing money here. I don't have a minute to give.”

“Well, Marvin, you're just going to have to do that.”

“Butâ”

“Marvin, I can take my dancing and my other services elsewhere.”

“But, Regina, this is a bad look.”

“Christ, Marvin! Leave us alone or tonight will be my last night.”

Marvin groaned, cursed, and, seconds later, left the room.

“Pain in the ass,” Regina said.

Deahnna continued to cry while Regina rubbed her back.
Why me?
she wondered. She sobbed and watched again as Jawan stared at her. The look in his eye . . . She would never forget his pained expression.

“Let me help you up,” Regina said, grabbing her hand.

Deahnna didn't want to, but she stood up and put her head against Regina's shoulder as Regina led her over to her chair. “Have you tried to call him yet?” Regina asked as Deahnna sat down. She reached over, pulled a tissue from a box, and handed it to her.

Wiping her eyes, Deahnna shook her head.

Regina pursed her lips. “Where's your cell?”

Deahnna blew her nose. “There's no point in me calling,” she said. “After that look on his face . . .” She paused and a flood of tears fell from her eyes again.

Regina grabbed a handful of tissues and handed them to her. “Just try to call him, honey.”

Deahnna shook her head again. “I . . . I know he won't talk to me, Regina. He was so disgusted with me. I saw it in his eyes. He hates me.”

“Honey, you don't know that.”

Deahnna looked up at Regina while she wiped her nose. “You didn't see his eyes, Regina. Trust me, he hates me.”

Regina gave her a look as if to say, “Come on, don't be so melodramatic. I'm sure he doesn't hate you, honey. He was just shocked as hell, that's all. But he doesn't hate you. Not after the things you've told me about him.”

Deahnna blotted the corners of her eyes. “Why? Why did he have to be here?”

Regina raised her eyebrows as the corners of her mouth dipped. “It's a small world, honey. Even here in New York City.”

Deahnna strangled the tissues in her hand. “I . . . I can't believe this happened.”

“Call him, honey.”

Deahnna shook her head. “I don't think he'll answer.”

Regina frowned, went to her locker, opened it, and removed her cell phone. She went back to Deahnna. “What's his number, honey?”

“I don't want to get you in the middle of anything, Regina.”

“You're not getting me in the middle of anything, honey. I'm just dialing the numbers. You're going to be doing the talking. I figure there's a better chance of him answering the call from a number he doesn't recognize than there would be if your number showed up on his ID.”

Deahnna shrugged. “I don't know.”

“Just give it a try, honey.”

Deahnna frowned, wiped at her nose and eyes again, and, after a reluctant second, recited Jawan's cell phone number to her. Regina made the call, and then, after making sure it was going through, handed it to her. Deahnna took it and put it to her ear. As it rang, the image of Jawan staring at her, shaking his head, and leaving flashed in her mind again.

God, what he must think about me,
she thought.

The phone rang once, twice, a third time, and then went to voice mail. She ended the call and extended the cell back to Regina. “I told you,” she said, her voice filled with disappointed frustration.

“Call him again, honey,” Regina said. “And this time, leave a message.”

Deahnna sighed. “Regina . . .”

“Just call.”

Deahnna frowned again and then redialed Jawan's number. This time the voice mail clicked on right away. She said, “Jawan, I'm so, so sorry. Please call me. Please. I want, no, I need to explain what you saw. It . . . it's not what you think. Please call. I . . .I love you.”

She ended the call, and handed the phone back to Regina as tears fell from her eyes and ran down her cheeks.

Regina rubbed her back. “Go home, honey,” she said softly. “Go home and get some rest.”

Deahnna shook her head. “That's not going to be possible.”

“Well, just try, OK?”

Deahnna wiped her eyes and nodded. “I can't believe he was here.”

“Six degrees of separation, honey. We all know somebody who knows somebody.”

Deahnna frowned. “This is so unfair.”

“That's life, honey. Now, go home. Give him some time, but he will call you back.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he left instead of confronting you.”

Deahnna shook her head. “I don't know.”

“Just give it time, honey. OK?”

Deahnna looked up at Regina. “OK,” she said. “I'll try.”

“Good. Now, before Marvin has a conniption, let me see if I can help salvage the night for his ass. Call me when you get home, OK? If I don't answer, just leave a text.”

Deahnna gave her a half smile. “I will.”

Regina gave her a kiss on her forehead, and then turned and left, leaving Deahnna alone.

Deahnna sat still as tears leaked from her eyes slowly. She took a breath and let it out slowly.
Why me?
she wondered again.

Terrance.

Marc.

Now Jawan.

Three men. Three different levels of pain and unhappiness.

As her tears fell, she couldn't help but wonder just what it was that she had done wrong in her life.

A stripper.

A goddamned stripper.

No way. No damn way.

Jawan took hard, slow, angry steps. Deahnna was a stripper. Had he not seen it with his own eyes, he would have never believed something like that was possible. Had he not watched her back out onto the stage wearing nothing but a barely there thong and a see-through top that was practically the mother of see-throughs, he would have never ever believed . . .

“Shit!”

He stopped walking, turned, and looked back toward the club, which was a half a block away. He stared at the purple neon sign.
C
LUB
E
CSTASY
, it read. Ecstasy. A place where men or women went to escape the reality of everyday life and lose themselves for an hour, or two, or three or more as they stared at tits and ass that they could only long to have. Tits and ass that were paraded and gyrated in front of them, teasing them, causing them to be voluntarily robbed as dollar bills, which a large majority of them needed at home, disappeared from their hands. It was the perfect legal crime. And with his own eyes, Jawan had watched as Deahnna played the ultimate role as Bonnie without Clyde.

“Shit!” he said again. He shivered, though not from the sharp, nighttime wind. “Shit!”

His cell phone rang. He grabbed it from his pocket and looked at the ID. A number he didn't recognize appeared. He let it go to voice mail, and then turned his cell phone off. Without knowing who the caller had been, he was sure it had been Deahnna. He shook his head, cursed again, and then turned away from the club. Of all the things he thought he'd ever have to deal with, this hadn't been one. And to think he'd hopped out of bed, sick, for this. He shook his head again and headed for an idling cab at the corner.

“Yo! Jawan! Dude!”

Jawan didn't want to, but he stopped walking and turned to see his cousin, Nick, running up to him.
Damn,
he thought. What a way to send his cousin off. He frowned.

“Dude,” Nick said, coming to a stop, huffing in front of him. “What the fuck just happened?”

Jawan gritted his teeth and said, “I don't know, man.” He breathed out heavily through his nostrils. “I really don't fucking know.”

“You know that chick from the stage?”

Jawan looked over his cousin's shoulder toward the club, and, with his eyes focused on the neon purple, nodded. Through his teeth he said, “Yeah, unfortunately I do.”

“Who is she?”

Jawan flared his nostrils and sucked his lips in. “Do you remember the female I told you about?”

“The teacher?”

“My student's mother.”

“Oh yeah.”

“Well, I'm sorry I was rude and didn't introduce you two.”

His eyes opening wide, Nick said, “Shit, dude. You serious?”

Jawan raised his eyebrows. “Wish I wasn't.”

“Damn,” Nick said. And then he broke out in laughter.

Jawan gave his cousin a hard glare. “There's nothing funny about this, Nick.”

Nick continued to laugh as he shook his head apologetically and put a hand on Jawan's shoulder. “I'm sorry, dude, but this shit is hilarious.”

Jawan pushed Nick's hand from his shoulder. “Fuck you, Nick.”

His outburst only made Nick laugh harder. “Don't flip out on me, dude. I wasn't the one up on the stage about to get buck naked.”

Jawan shook his head at his cousin's insensitivity, and fought to not throw a punch at his face, which he knew would have been very, very wrong. After all, Nick had done nothing wrong. But, damn, did he want to hit something.

“A'ight, a'ight,” Nick said, wiping tears away from his eyes. “My bad, dude. I'm sorry, for real.”

Jawan frowned, but didn't say anything.

“I guess you didn't know she moonlighted as a show-me-what-you-got kind of chick, huh?”

Jawan shook his head. “Nope.”

“So what are you gonna do?”

“I have no idea, man. Shit. No fucking idea.”

“Guess you're not coming back inside.”

Jawan's frown dipped lower. “Nah, man. I'm sorry about fucking up your night.”

“Shit, dude. My night's not fucked up. Your girl's not out there, but the other chicks are back out on the stage.”

Jawan nodded. Deahnna hadn't gone back out. He couldn't decide if that pleased him or pissed him off more. He looked at his cousin. “I'm gonna go home, man.”

“You sure you don't wanna come back in, dude? I'm willing to bet that some shots of Hennessy might do you some good right about now.”

Jawan shook his head. Although drowning his sorrows sounded like just the remedy he needed, the thought of going back in there was just not one he could fathom. “I'm sure, man.”

Nick shrugged. “I feel you, dude. This is a real fucked-up coincidence. I mean, shit, of all the clubs we had to come to.”

Jawan gave a curt nod. “Yeah, of all the clubs,” he said, looking at the neon sign again.

“You gonna talk to her?”

“I don't know, man. Right now, I just really don't know. I'm kinda just barely holding it together right now, you know?”

“Yeah. I can imagine.”

No, you can't,
Jawan thought, but didn't say. “Anyway, man,” he said, putting his hand out. “Go back in and get fucked up. I'll catch you in a few weeks for the wedding.”

Nick took his hand and the two embraced in a one-armed hug. “A'ight, dude. I hope shit works out for you.”

Jawan stepped back. “Thanks.”

“And if it doesn't, don't sweat it. I have some banging chicks I can introduce you to.”

Jawan forced a smile. “All right. But don't count on them roping me in to the business.”

Nick laughed. “They can be very persuasive, dude.”

“Yeah, OK.”

More laughter from Nick. “Cheddar, dude. The business is all about cheddar.”

“Yeah, yeah. All right, man. Take it easy. Try to remember what you did tonight.”

“Shit, if I do that, then the night will be a bust. Anyway, if your chick comes back out, I'll give her your regards.”

Jawan shook his head. “Not funny, man. Not funny.”

“Not for you, JawanaMan. But it's one hell of a story for the fellas.”

“Man . . .”

“Hey, they're gonna want an explanation.”

“Yeah, whatever, man. See you in a few weeks.” Jawan frowned, then waved, turned, and headed for a different cab, sitting at the end of the block.

“A'ight, dude. Take it easy.”

Jawan walked to the curb, checked with the cab driver to see if he was taking fares, then, after confirming that he was, Jawan hopped into the back, which smelled like stale cigarettes and pina colada, gave the driver his address, and slumped back against the seat.

As the cab pulled off and headed down the congested, pothole-laden road, Jawan shook his head. Deahnna was a stripper. He'd known his night was going to be crazy. He just hadn't expected this level of insanity.

He closed his eyes, and as strange as his night was, a random thought ran through his mind.

Why the hell were cab rides always so damn comfortable?

BOOK: Growing Pains

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