Page 4 of Blake University: HBCU Chronicles: Brynleigh & A.Z.

AZRA (A.Z.) MATTHEWS

By the time Allison emerged from the bathroom, I was dressed with my keys in hand. Before leaving, I unlocked my phone to ensure that she’d emailed me the paper I asked her to write for me.

“Why can’t we ever go anywhere off campus? Why do you only come to my room and have sex with me?” she pouted making me frown. “You’re single, right? Are you worried about someone seeing us?”

I just had a lot going on and didn’t want to take the time out of my day to write a three-to-four-page paper.

Allison had saved my life a few times, but I could tell, I either had to find someone else or start doing my own work.

I didn’t play sports but between my fraternity, classes, and enjoying my last year of college before I had to enter the real world, there wasn’t enough hours in the day to do everything I needed to do sometimes. I was trying to work smart, not hard.

“Wow,” Allison sucked her teeth and folded her arm across her chest. I assumed that was all she said because she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

I hadn’t told one lie. She offered the pussy up, and she was a decent looking girl, so I took it.

Her asking why I didn’t take her on dates was borderline insane.

I eased past her and out the door. She lived in a dorm.

Nosey ass people were always lingering in hallways and outside, so it wasn’t a secret that I came by sometimes and went into her room.

Everyone that lived in Hillman Hall probably suspected we were fucking.

Since I was single, there wasn’t anything anyone could say to me.

But I didn’t want to take Allison out on dates.

I wasn’t sure why females felt they could sex a man into being what they wanted him to be, but that wasn’t how it worked with me.

Anything that I wanted, I didn’t have to be told to go after it.

At the end of the hall, I saw my sister, Tyra, coming out of the common area.

When she recognized me, a scowl appeared on her face almost immediately.

Clenching my teeth together, I attempted to keep my temper in check.

For all the girls that I made cry or did wrong in any way, God was getting me back through my sister.

He got me back through my ex, Rhia as well, but my sister was giving me a run for my money.

I wished way too frequently that she hadn’t come to Blake U.

I would rather her be somewhere that I couldn’t see her or hear about what she was doing.

Tyra was a good girl, and she hadn’t done anything too crazy, but she needed to get her drinking under control.

I was trying real hard not to get our parents involved, but she was testing me.

We used to be so close but in the past year, in her eyes, I’d become her worst enemy.

All because I tried to look out for her.

The first time I saw her sloppy drunk, I almost lost it.

Maybe I didn’t write my own English papers, but I did the rest of my work, and had a 3.

5 GPA. I didn’t want to be kicked out of school and ruin everything I had worked for because some lame nigga took advantage of my drunk sister, and I beat his ass.

Too many females on campus had woken up from wild nights barely remembering what happened and didn’t even know who to blame when they got diagnosed with an STD or found out they were pregnant. I’d kill a nigga for violating Tyra.

All she could say was that I was embarrassing.

She didn’t even appreciate the fact that I hadn’t yet ratted her out to our parents because they would have snatched her ass off campus so fast and made her move back home.

Our parents lived an hour away from Cove City, Georgia where Tyra and I attended college.

“You still acting like a spoiled brat?” I questioned her making her suck her teeth.

“I’m a spoiled brat because I want you to stop acting like my father?

Why are you here? This is a girl’s dorm.

Oh, that’s right. You screw Allison in exchange for her writing your papers.

You get to walk around like the big man on campus doing whatever you want yet you try and dictate what I do, where I go, and who I hang around. ”

“Because we both know that if something happens to you, ma and dad are going to put their foot on my neck not yours. If I wanted to embarrass you, I could have told them how you like to get so drunk that you black out and wake up the next day not remembering shit. You want me to tell them that?”

“You can tell them whatever you want,” Tyra stormed off, and I didn’t bother going after her.

I’d be the first to admit that there was a double standard when it came to men and women.

I could even admit that my first year in college, I went a little overboard with drinking myself.

I also smoked weed, and I had even tried lean on a few occasions.

By my sophomore year, I still loved a good party, but I had slowed down a lot with the drinking.

I was tired of the way getting dumb drunk made me feel the next day.

But even on my drunkest night, I didn’t have to worry about being taken advantage of.

In my opinion it wasn’t lady like for a woman to get so drunk that she barely knew up from down.

Tyra was smart, and she was going to be an Oncologist. She could have fun, and she could party, but as her big brother it was my responsibility to make sure she didn’t ruin her life by making dumb decisions.

If she wanted to hate me for that, that was cool. She’d thank me one day.

A snort escaped me when I realized how much like my parents I sounded.

I lived off campus in a three-bedroom apartment, and I had two roommates.

My father was a judge, and my mother was an attorney before she retired.

Nothing short of excellence was expected of me and Tyra.

I was getting a degree in business and planned to start my own record label.

Times were changing, and it was easier to get traction for a good artist. All they had to do was be talented enough to go viral a few times, and they could run up a check without even being signed.

But them not knowing the business was a lot of their downfall.

Thanks to my parents, grandparents, and the connections that being in a fraternity would afford me, I was confident that I could conduct good business and get any artist that signed to me the fame and success they were seeking.

I hadn’t worked the entire time that I was in college.

My parents started my college fund when I was a kid.

Not only were they able to pay my tuition, they were able to take care of me financially, so I didn’t have to work while in school.

They paid my portion of the rent and utilities, gave me a credit card for gas, food, personal hygiene items, etc.

and they gave me a monthly allowance, so I’d have spending money.

Was I ashamed of being a spoiled rich kid? Fuck no.

My paternal grandfather was also a judge, and he died when I was fifteen. According to his will, when I graduated from college, I would have access to a trust fund that contained $350,000. That would be enough to hold me over until I got my label off the ground.

At home, I entered the apartment as my roommates, Smoke, and Justin were walking toward the door. “Justin is about to get a tattoo. You should come with us,” Smoke stated.

I didn’t have anything else to do, so it didn’t take me long to decide to tag along. Justin’s father was a retired NFL player, and he drove a G wagon. Smoke’s mother was an actress, and he drove a Tesla. “What you getting?” I asked as I got in the backseat of the G Wagon.

“A gorilla,” Justin bobbed his head like getting a gorilla tatted on him made all the sense in the world.

“Alrighty then,” I responded.

“He showed me the inspo pic. It’s gon’ be cold as hell,” Smoke chimed in. “Penz is one of the illest tattoo artists in the city. Shit, it be taking months to even get fitted in his books.”

“That’s why it pays to have connections,” Justin grinned. “My pops got tatted by Penz last week, and he asked him if he could squeeze me in. Money talks. Bullshit walks.”

All I had ever known growing up was other successful black people.

My grandparents were successful, and I grew up in a very affluent neighborhood.

I also went to private school. The older I got and watched movies and listened to music, I began to see just how rough some people had it.

It was mind blowing to me that not everyone had house cleaners or money at their disposal to do whatever they wanted.

By the time I realized that there were people in the world living savage as hell, I wasn’t sure how to deal with it.

My parents kept me sheltered for the most part and refused to let me venture off on my own into less than desirable neighborhoods.

If I managed to meet someone that lived in a sketchy part of town, my parents would act like me asking to visit them was blasphemy.

They kept the reigns tight on me and Tyra.

I tried not to judge others or their situation, but my mother judged enough for the both of us.

If she didn’t like a girl I was seeing or a friend that I had, she’d be the first one to let me know.