Page 24 of Body Language (Mind, Body, & Soul #2)

Niveah

The whole ride felt like my chest was caving in, but I kept my face turned toward the window, jaw locked so tight it hurt.

Zejah had called me a hundred times before. To tell me Ma was yelling. To tell me some random nigga was in the house. To let me know the lights had been cut off again. And every time, her voice was calm, steady. Like a soldier giving a report.

But that night… her voice cracked.

She wasn’t calm. She wasn’t steady. She was sobbing so hard I could barely make out words. I’d never heard her sound so… scared. And it bothered me in a way that I wasn’t ready for.

I pressed my hands against my thigh, forcing the tremble out. Don’t break. Not here. Not now.

It was the call I’d been preparing for my whole damn life.

The one that said my mama finally went too far.

That she overdosed.

That she pissed off the wrong person.

That she was gone for real this time.

I’d played that scenario in my head so many nights I lost count.

Imagined the funeral.

Imagined me explaining to Heidi why her mom’s sickness got worse and she died.

Imagined holding Huxley while he tried to act strong but I knew it still ruined him.

My throat burned, tears slipping before I could stop them. I scrubbed at my face quick, talking to myself under my breath.

“Fuck. Get it the fuck together, Niv. You don’t cry. You don’t break.”

My chest heaved, but I forced the tears back. “You always knew this could happen. You’ve been ready. Shake that shit off.”

I bit down on my lip, trying to anchor myself.

But inside, I wanted to scream. To fall apart. To curl into a ball and admit that holding it all together for everyone else all the damn time was breaking me down piece by piece.

The silence in the truck felt louder than my own heartbeat. My fingers were digging crescents into my thigh when suddenly his hand covered mine.

They were warm like he knew I was seconds away from shattering.

I turned, and Kendrix was watching the road, one hand on the wheel, the other holding mine like he wasn’t letting go, even if I tried to snatch away.

“If you ever need a moment to break,” he said, not even looking at me, “you can. I’ll be right here holding it all up until you’re ready to stand again.”

My eyes blurred again, no matter how much I tried to fight it.

Because he didn’t say be strong.

Didn’t say you’ll get through it.

Didn’t tell me to man up like life hadn’t already forced me to.

He said I could break. And he’d hold me through it.

That one sentence hit harder than every tough-love lecture I’d ever given myself.

I turned away fast, biting my lip so the sob didn’t crawl out my throat. But I couldn’t hide the truth. Not from him. Not from myself.

And in that moment, I knew….

I was falling for Kendrix Givelle.

No matter how much I swore I wouldn’t.

No matter how dangerous it was to want someone like him.

Because finally, the strong one wanted to be held.

When Kendrix turned onto the cracked street of Gun Hill, my heart started beating so hard I swore it shook the whole truck.

I was bracing myself for chaos. Blue lights bouncing off brick walls, sirens screaming, neighbors hanging out on porches whispering but still loud as hell.

An ambulance door swinging open, ready to take my mama’s body out under a white sheet.

I was ready for it or at least I thought I was.

But when we pulled up…

Nothing.

No police cars. No flashing lights. No chaos.

Just the same neighborhood I grew up in. Same dudes on the corner posted up, same old heads sitting on milk crates watching the night crawl by, same smell of cheap weed and fried chicken in the air.

For a second, I thought maybe Zejah overreacted. Maybe I got myself worked up for nothing.

Then I saw her on the staircase that led up to my mama’s apartment.

My mama sitting on the steps with Zejah curled up in her lap like a baby.

The sight damn near knocked the wind out of me.

My mama. The woman who lost every nurturing bone in her body. Holding that little girl like she didn’t want her to feel alone.

Zejah’s face was buried in her chest, her thin shoulders trembling so hard.

My stomach twisted because that’s when I knew. It wasn’t about my mama.

It was about Zejah. Maybe she just lost someone or she just lost everything.

I froze on the sidewalk, staring. My relief came first and as fucked up as it sounded… it wasn’t my mama. I hated myself for it, but it was the truth. I wasn’t staring at a lifeless body. I wasn’t about to hear “she’s gone.” And that guilt ate me alive before I even made it to the steps.

I took a breath so deep it hurt and whispered under it, “Pull it together, Niv. She needs you right now.”

Me and Kendrix walked up the steps slow. The closer we got, the clearer I could see Zejah’s face. She was all blotchy, eyes swollen, snot spilling out of her nose. She was curled against my mama, shaking like a leaf.

I leaned down in front of her, putting myself eye level.

“Zejah, baby… what’s wrong?”

She looked at me like she was too scared to say, lips trembling, eyes darting everywhere but mine. My patience was thin, but I wasn’t about to press her and make it worse. Before I could open my mouth again, my mama leaned her head down, whispering something soft in her ear.

And that right there stopped me dead. Because, who the fuck was this woman?

This wasn’t the mama I grew up with. This woman had on clean clothes. Hair brushed back. Even a little gloss on her lips. Her arms wrapped around Zejah like she actually gave a damn. It felt foreign and like I was watching a stranger play dress-up as my mother.

Zejah sniffled hard and finally started talking through her tears.

“Me and my mama… we got into a fight.”

My eyes scanned her knees. Skin torn up. Fists scraped like she’d been swinging with everything in her.

My stomach twisted.

“Why?” I asked softly, even though I was already pissed at the thought of her mamma throwing hands with her daughter.

Zejah’s face crumpled all over again. Tears spilled faster. “Because… because she found out that I’m pregnant.”

“Oh… shit,” I said under my breath. I knew it wasn’t some simple little girl mistake. That was life-changing. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to keep my face calm, even though my insides were screaming.

Before I could even get another word out, my mama stood up fast, brushing off her jeans.

“Well, I gotta go smoke. Y’all got this.”

Typical.

She didn’t even wait for me to respond before walking back up the stairs to her apartment like she didn’t just drop me in the middle of a bomb going off.

I rolled my eyes so hard I swear I saw the back of my brain.

That was my mama all day. Dipping out when shit got too heavy.

Apart of me wanted to snatch Zejah up and tell her to be grateful she even got those few minutes of comfort, because that was more than I ever got.

But watching her cry harder broke me a little. I sat down next to her and hugged her.

“Look, Zejah,” I said firmly, “your life is about to change. For real. A baby isn’t a small thing. And you have to stop being hot out here before you ruin yourself completely. You hear me?”

She just cried harder. Shoulders shaking, chest heaving.

I sighed, rubbing my temples. “I’m not trying to be mean, baby. But this…. This is family business. I’ll help you where I can, but this don’t really have anything to do with me.”

The look she gave me could’ve cut through steel. She whipped her head toward me, eyes blazing through all those tears.

“It has everything to do with you,” she snapped, her voice cracking but loud enough to slice through the air.

My brow arched. “What the hell you mean?”

Zejah sat up straighter, wiping her face with the back of her hand. Her lip trembled.

“Because I’m pregnant with your niece or nephew.”

The air left my lungs.

“…What?” My voice barely came out.

Her eyes locked on mine, watery but steady.

“It’s Huxley’s baby.”