Chapter 13: Return to the Real World

I sat on the breakfast bar watching JQ pace the living room with his cell phone glued to his ear, Roman leaned on the counter beside me. Left, right, left, right. He had withdrawn into himself in the past month and I was worried that it was my fault. Ever since the kiss he's been avoiding the apartment. I was worried about him, we were all worried about him. Roman, being JQ's best friend, knew what was going on, but he wasn't saying anything to anybody and trust me I'd tried to get it out of him. I wondered if Roman knew about our kiss, he hadn't said anything. I frowned, ever since I stepped out as Flow's girlfriend Roman didn't have much to say to me.

I sighed, I was having problems of my own. When the news about me and Flow broke a week after we agreed to a relationship, London had called and put me on speakerphone there were a couple of her screeching friends in the background. My mother had pretty much called me a whore and told me that I knew what I was coming New York for and not to call her when I got my heart broken, then she hung up. I called Daddy, apparently my 'sister' had been watching E! News when they flashed my picture across the screen, his main thing was how much I looked like his mother. Dating a celebrity was overwhelming, I had a better relationship with Flow's cell phone and Twitter account than I had with him. He was spending a ridiculous amount of time in L.A., never mind the fact that his label was based in NYC, he was trying to do the movie and modelling thing and get his clothing line launched. Paparazzi stalked me and their main focus was where I worked and my connection with Kandy Shoppe.

"What's going on with you?" Roman asked.

"Oh, you care now?" I snapped, he frowned at me. "I've been trying to talk to you for a month now but I don't know, you're acting like you're upset with me."

He shrugged and folded his arms. "I'm sorry, JQ had me distracted."

I didn't say anything. It was a Saturday, usually nobody was at home on the weekend, nobody but me unless Flow was in town. JQ stuck his cell phone in his pocket and when he turned around he looked like hell. "I've got to go man."

Roman walked over and wrapped JQ in a tight hug, I was thrown when JQ started crying on Roman's shoulder. I did not do emotions and the only thing I thought JQ was capable of feeling was wicked. I didn't run away because New York and my room mates had made me nosey, I wanted to know what all the tears were about. "It's okay Jay." Roman murmured to him. I don't know if I mentioned how beautiful the relationship between the two of them were, but they made me melt every time they interacted.

Fifteen minutes later JQ was all cried out and he disappeared into his room. Roman stared at me for a while then stuck his hands in his pockets. "Remember I told you we all have our stories." He left the apartment, he and JQ were so emotionally connected they couldn't stand when the other was unhappy, I felt guilty about snapping at him.

I hopped down from the table and pushed JQ's room door open without knocking, he was sitting on the bed staring at his toes. "What's going on?" I asked him, getting right to the point.

"My grandma's dying." His voice cracked and he took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry." I said and patted his shoulder awkwardly.

He gave me a small smile. "You are really terrible with people." He took another deep breath and released it through his nose. "My dad was working in Cuba, construction, and my mother's parents owned a restaurant where the guys usually ate. My mother was only fifteen years old when she got pregnant with me, she was a smart girl, had a bright future, my grandparents were devastated and angry. They kicked her out of the house, she was a kid trying to raise a kid, laying on her back for a buck so she could buy formula and diapers." He sighed and flopped backward, his empty gaze went to the ceiling, "She always reminded me how my birth ruined her life, how she had to sell pussy because of me. I was five years old and I hated myself, when I got older I hated her, I didn't tell her to spread her legs for a thirty year old man, I didn't tell her not to use a condom. Anyways, my father would send money, he'd come pick me up in the summers and take me to St. Lucia so I could spend time with his other kids and his parents. His other children hated me, I wasn't their mother's child, I was the reason their parents weren't together so I lived mostly with my grandparents.

"When Lucian went to America and met the Ugandan woman--he was one of those Afrocentric Rastas, so marrying a woman from the motherland was a big deal--he stopped. He stopped sending money, he stopped coming to pick me up, so my grandfather would come to Cuba to get me. Grandpa taught me how to fish, how to fix a car and he only spoke to me in Creole." He laughed, "I missed him so much when he died, but I still had my grandmother. Mama J taught me how to cook and bake, she was always in the kitchen and damn could she dance! Those beach parties, as old as she was she could shake her ass better than any of the young girls.

"My mother died when I was eight, she had HIV for a while and I watched her waste away, I had to take care of her while she was sick. She died and she never told me she loved me. Mama J told me she loved me all the time, she would always say, 'Jaraji, I love you but God loves you best baby'. She sent my uncle to get me after my mother died, my Cuban grandparents didn't give a damn if I was living or dead, I had to look out for myself, but Mama J had my back.  And then she had the stroke and couldn't take care of me anymore, my Aunt took her in but couldn't be bothered to take care of her sick mother, her six kids and me. I was thirteen when my father brought me over here. I grew up in Florida. I was really into hip-hop back then, dancing, composing the music, and graffiti art was big too.

"The Ugandan didn't like me, didn't like kids. She was a narcissist, too concerned with maintaining her body. My father loved her, so when she had enough of playing mommy to me, he was done with being daddy and I was right back to where I'd been after my mother died. Fending for myself. Mama J called me all the time, right leg was paralyzed and she had limited mobility on that side of her body but she always called, and every time I changed address or my phone, I made an effort to call. She was never too sick to tell me she loved me. When I started working for Braxton, I was making enough money to sit comfortably and make sure that she did the same, I sent her money all the time. Money for food, adult diapers, her medical bills and I visited every summer.

"Last week she had another stroke, she doesn't even know what year it is, doesn't remember her own children most days, but she always remembers me. I really don't want to see her sick Brooklyn, I don't think I can handle it."

I held his hand while he blinked back tears, "She remembers you, she wants to see you JQ."

He brushed away a couple of stray tears. "I don't want her to die."

"Please don't cry, it makes me nervous." He rested his head on my shoulder and squeezed the hand I was holding. "I told Roman that once I go, I won't be back until after her funeral, no matter how long that takes."

"Do what you have to."

"I don't want to leave Roman, he needs me."

"I'll keep an eye on Roman." He gave me another weak smile. I sat on his bed while he packed his bag, I sat there while he booked his ticket and when he flung the dufflebag on his shoulder my heart fell. He was leaving and not sure when he would return and I missed the hell out of him already.

"Don't forget to look out for my boy." JQ pulled me in to a warm hug, I pressed my face up against his chest and inhaled deeply, trying to commit his smell to memory, the feel of his body against mine, his smile, his eyes, those dimples that I loved so much. He tilted my head up and gave me a soft kiss before leaving the house. I went to my room and collapsed face first on the bed. It finally hit me, my fucked up relationship with Flow, having to watch my back with Dom and JQ leaving, I had been in limbo while I was at my mother's house, my life was on hold and while I gained a year every June 28th, I remained safe at seventeen years old. Now that I stepped out of the safe zone, real life was coming to get me, it was bringing all the drama that I had been protected from.

 My one month grace period was over, it was time to get real or get got; go in and go hard.