Page 5 of Exit: Us
“You put a lizard down the back of my shirt, that was the size of an iguana, and you expect me to let that hurt go? Gemini, you’ll always be an enemy to me,” she said it in a joking kind of way, so I knew that she was only fuckin with me. That shit was years ago.
I want to say she was twelve at the time. I was sixteen. I had my home boys at the house, and we were out back, playing ball. Amina, and Gianna were on the other side of the backyard, chilling, minding their own business. One of my homies at the time dared me to put the lizard down her back. I was a goofy ass nigga, that let them gas me up to do that dumb shit. I didn’t know Amina like that. That was my sisters friend. I didn’t know her fears. Her phobias. None of those things. I just remember putting that shit down her shirt, and the way she took off screaming, and crying. At one point, she almost passed the hell out.
I remember my mom running outside to see what was going on. Amina was screaming, telling my mom what I’d done, and I got my ass fucked up outside in that backyard in front of everyone. I had a black ass mama, that moved off black ass parenting, so I deserved every bit of that ass whipping that she handed out to me.
“Yeah, okay. I apologized for that shit when it happened. My mama made me write you an apology letter and everything. I thought we moved passed that shit?” I asked her, now that she was in the kitchen area with me, and Gianna.
Even though she was somewhat smiling as she looked at me, I could see the sadness in her eyes. I’m sure it had everything to do with what Gianna revealed to me on the porch.
There was an empty barstool next to me, and that’s where Amina chose to sit. Out of the corner of my eye, I paid attention to her movements. It was the way she gracefully sat down in the barstool and crossed one leg over the other. She did that shit with ease. Her movements were natural. Not some shit that she had to sit down and practice. She sat up straight, with her shoulders relaxed.
I love women. I’ve dealt with plenty of women in my life, so I knew when I was sitting next to a woman that exuded confidence. Even with the things that she was more than likely battling right now, the confidence on her was a motha fucka.
“Back to you, Gemini. Why are you leaving so soon? You literally just got here. Every time you come, you leave out so quickly, making it where we barely get to do anything together,” Gianna said, with her hands down on the counter, looking at me in the same manner that our mama looked at me last night when she found out that I wouldn’t be here for long.
“It’s summertime, Gianna. Summer is the busiest season, and it’s the time for me to make the most money. You know I’m going to always be where the money takes me. Stop making itseem like I get on the road, and I don’t check in. I call you every day. I text you good morning every day, and I don’t let a night go by where I don’t call, just to see how your day went,” I voiced, and even though you could tell that it wasn’t what she wanted to hear, she still nodded her head, as she raised the lid that covered the macaroni, so that she could peek inside. Shit looked good as hell.
“I can ask you some questions about London, or you still not fuckin with me like that?” I turned in my seat, so that I could glance over at Amina.
When I spoke to her, it’s almost like I snapped her out of a daze. She had been in her own world. I’m sure she didn’t even hear the conversation that me, and Gianna just finished having.
I paid attention to her eyes, and they were a little glossy. Kind of like she was getting ready to start crying.
“London is fine,” her response was straight to the point, and a little dismissive, like there wasn’t shit else that she wanted to follow behind that.
I don’t think her dismissiveness had anything to do with me putting the lizard down her back years ago. I think she was in a fucked up space mentally right now and was trying to cope.
“Where your accent at? You moved over there when you were a teenager. I don’t hear a British accent,” I was just trying to make small conversation with her. That’s all.
“I moved to London. I wasn’t born in London. Hence the reason you don’t hear a British accent,” her slick ass said to me.
I looked over at my sister, and she was giving me a look, basically telling me not to respond back to her. She knew that I didn’t have any problems cursing anybody out from A to Z, especially when I felt like they were being slick with me. I was going to let Amina have that one. I wasn’t going to say anything else to her ass.
Gianna ended up clearing her throat, and she looked over at me.
“So, brother how was it this time on the road?” she transitioned, taking the energy off what just happened between me, and Amina.
I leaned back in the barstool a little bit, feet resting on the metal foot rail, with my legs partially spread apart. I had my arms folded, and with the way I was seated, I had the perfect view of my sister, and Amina.
“Shit, it was good. I spent a lot of time in Montana this time. Ain’t much up there, but it felt like everything to me. Being on that road, it’s just you, your thoughts, and the highway. I spent a lot of time out there, driving up mountains. Whatever problems I might have had at home, it was put on a temporary hold because being out there, none of that shit mattered, feel me? No stress. No worries. All those things felt like they were a million miles behind me,” I broke it down to her, needing her to understand how well these road trips were being to me.
“I don’t see how you do it. That sounds like hell to me. I can barely be in the car for three and a half hours to go from here to Orlando. Let alone, being in a truck for days at a time. It sounds boring, and miserable,” she responded, and that shit made me laugh.
“It ain’t. It’s freedom. That’s what that shit means to me. You’ll be surprised what a change of scenery can actually do for a person. Sometimes, all we really need is change of scenery,” I finished, and when I said that, Gianna paused what she was doing.
She backed away from the food that she was standing in front of, and you could just tell that the wheels were spinning inside her head, as she was deep in thought about something.
She folded her arms, just as I was doing, bit down on her bottom lip, and I watched as she looked from me to Amina. She kept doing that. She did it for about ten seconds.
“Mina?” Gianna eventually called for her best friend, using the nickname on her that she would call her when they were kids.
Again, Amina had been in her own little world, not paying our conversation any attention, so when Gianna called out to her, she kind of snapped her out of the daze that she’d slipped into again.
“What happened?” Amina asked.
“Did you hear what me, and my brother were just talking about?” Gianna asked. I kept quiet because I was curious to see where my sister was going with this.
“No. What happened?” she asked, proving that she was just as zoned out as I kept saying she was.
