Page 4 of Kassir and Rebel (D-Ville Projects #2)

Rebel

“Are you really ready for this?” Teaira asks as she refills my glass with more margarita.

“Hell no. I’m far from ready,” I sigh.

My head falls dramatically on the back of her sofa. She sits down beside me then drops her head too. She turns her face to mine then flashes me a wry ass smile.

“Just avoid him,” she says.

“And how can I do that? He owns the tenth floor of the building. Shit, it’s practically his building.

There’s no way I’m going to be able to avoid him and you know it.

” I sit up then take a sip from my glass.

“He broke my heart,” I utter, although I know she knows all too well.

Teaira was there when I first met Kassir and she was by my side five years later when I busted out the back window of his Charger.

That was six years ago but the hurt feels fresh now that I’m back in town.

“I know.”

“And it took me a long ass time to get over that.” Hell, I’m still getting over it. “I loved him and I thought he loved me but I was wrong. So wrong. He had a baby on me.”

“Technically, y’all were broken up when he slept with her,” she says and I cut my eyes at her.

“My bad. My bad.” She raises her hands defensively then quickly changes her tone and words knowing that right now I don’t want to hear about no technicalities. “He was dead ass wrong.”

“Very. We had a fight and were barely broken up for few hours and he fucked her. I was with him for five years and he couldn’t give me five hours before fucking someone else,” I snap.

“When you’re right; you’re right,” she says. In two big ass gulps, I finish my glass, place it on the table, then fall back on the sofa. “Alcohol is a depressant. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea,” she says before laying back on the sofa too.

“You think, bitch!” I say, laughing to keep from crying.

“Definitely not a good call.” We both laugh, then she pats my leg. “We need some food to soak this up so we can get you showered and sober. Miss Chandra is going to be looking for you.”

When she stands and heads to the kitchen, I close my eyes and try to push my thoughts of Kassir out of my damn head.

I left Diamond Falls to get away from him and I’ve been doing good, too good to be sitting here thinking about the past. I have a whole life in Florida.

I’m twenty-eight years old with a BS and MS in exercise physiology.

I’m a professor at Miami Dade College as well as their assistant coach in track and field.

My life isn’t what I envisioned but it’s mine.

Although we planned one together, I did good without him.

“Fuck Kassir!” I yell after sitting up and opening my eyes.

“Yeah. Fuck that nigga!” she yells back from the kitchen.

A few minutes later, she returns to the living room with a bag of chips and some container. She has the pitcher of margarita too. As she refills my glass and tops hers off, I pick up the container.

“Fiesta dip?” I read. “Tortilla chips and dip. That’s the food that’s going to sober me up?”

“Hell, it’s all I’ve got. I just got off four tens at the hospital; I haven’t had time to shop. This is all I have,” she says, then snatches the dip from my hand.

“Damn!”

“Nah. Wait! I just thought about it. This might be expired.” She flips the container over then frowns. “Yeah. It expired Thursday but it might be okay.”

“What kind of nurse are you?” I tease because I know damn well she’s an ER nurse. “I’m not eating spoiled dip. Let’s just order Vic’s. I want a supreme calzone and some mozzarella sticks. I’ve been craving it. I’ll just run it off tomorrow.”

In junior high, only two things subsided my anger, Mama Chandra and running.

With my headphones and Nikes, I could take off and run until all the anger left my body.

I fell in love with running. Eventually, I joined the track team, running the 3K.

I competed in junior high and high school.

I was all-state in both and ended up earning a scholarship to college.

“Vic’s does sound good. I’m getting a calzone too but I’m not running shit off tomorrow. My body doesn’t know how to act if I get smaller than a sixteen,” she says with a titter. “Losing weight means new scrubs and that’s a no for me. I love my collection.”

Teaira puts her calzone order into her phone then passes it to me.

I add mine then hit submit. After I give her phone back, I take another sip from my drink then stand.

My bladder is screaming and I need to clear my head a little so I practically sprint to her bathroom.

When I walk back out, she’s in the kitchen, blending another pitcher of margaritas.

“I need to sober up, not drink more,’” I say.

“Just one more drink. I’m only making half a pitcher.”

Our food arrives about thirty minutes later and I practically inhale my calzone. Nothing beats Vic’s Pizza and it was exactly what I needed. Good and full, I take a shower, get myself together, and Teaira drives me to D-Ville.

“You know my guest room is yours,” she says once we are in front of the building.

“I know but Ma wants me here. If I need an escape, I’ll be right back there though. I love you. Now, go back home and sleep. I’ve interrupted your sleeping day enough already.”

“Having you back home was worth it.”

“Text me when you wake up. I’m not calling you,” I tell her. Normally, after four days on, she sleeps the next day. My arrival disrupted her routine.

“If you need to, call,” she insists before I get out. I grab my things out of her backseat then wait for her to drive off. When she does, I take a deep breath then walk up the few steps to the main entrance.

You’ve got this, Rebel.

It’s crazy how certain sounds and smells can trigger the oddest memories.

The moment I walk into the building, the slight scent of lemon coming from Mrs. Johnson’s apartment takes me back to the very first time I was brought here.

I was determined to hate it here. I hated everything back then but I remember smelling this lemon scent and thinking it already smelled better than any other home I had been in or that dingy hotel room my mom left me in months prior to those homes.

As I walk past Mrs. Johnson’s door, so many moments flash in my mind and I smile at the thought of some of them.

My mother never came back for me. Never.

Deep down, that fact will always haunt me, but thanks to Mama Chandra, my Ma, I survived and thrived.

She showed me real love and I couldn’t ask for a better foster mom.

“Rebel, baby? Is that you?” her voice calls out from the other side of the door. My attempt to use my key and let myself in failed.

“It is. I was trying to sneak in,” I admit.

The door opens and tears well in her eyes the moment she sees me.

We talk a few times a week and we even FaceTime, but this is the first time she’s seen me in person in years.

Tears fill my eyes too as that fact hits me like a ton of bricks.

Leaving my bag in the hall, I step to her and she pulls me into her loving arms.

“My baby is home,” she cries as she embraces me tightly.

“I am, Ma.” For a moment, we just hold each other and cry our happy tears. The sound of a throat clearing is the only thing that tears us apart. “Oh hey. Mr. James,” I say when Ma and I break our embrace.

“Just James,” he says while smiling. He’s a handsome man with a nicely trimmed salt and pepper beard. I can see why Ma fell for him. She’s beautiful as well and together they make a gorgeous couple.

“I have to get used to that. You’ve been Mr. James since I moved here,” I admit. He was the building manager before the renovations. He’s retired now and helps out part-time when needed. I always knew he liked Ma; it just took him a minute to let her know it.

“Don’t just stand there, Jimmy. Get her bags,” Ma says while still smiling. When he walks past us, I catch him lightly pat Ma’s ass and she giggles. “Boy, you better stop,” she says, blushing. Then she grabs my hand and leads me to the sofa. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Me too and you look good,” I admit as I lean my head on her shoulder.

She drapes her arm across me then kisses the top of my head just like she used to when I was younger. I missed this. God, I missed her. Instantly, I regret leaving and refusing to come back.

“I stayed away too long. I’m so sorry, Ma.”

“You’re here now and that’s all that matters. We have so much to do before the wedding.”

“Including giving you a bachelorette party.”

“Girl, I’m too old for that. A nice little shower is fine with me.”

“Well, too bad. Thursday, we are having a party. It’s all planned. Ms. Cora has been helping me,” I say, referring to her best friend. Everything is planned. I booked a two-bedroom suite at The Drexel and invited her close friends, and Teaira, of course.

“Lawd, not Cora! As long as there’re no strippers.”

“Strippers,” Mr. James huffs as he walks into the living room. “What strippers?”

“For her bachelorette party,” I say, teasing. A time will be had but there are no strippers planned. I don’t really like them either.

“Yeah, alright,” he says and Ma and I laugh.

“There’s no strippers,” I whisper to her and she squeezes me into her.

“Thank God but are you hungry? I cooked.”

“No. Teaira and I ordered Vic’s. I’m full but maybe later,” I say, then sit up. When I do, I get a good look at the living room. Her store seems to have grown. “When did you get that cooler?” I ask.

“Jimmy got it and fixed it up about three years ago. I sell a lot of cold drinks but I’m thinking about closing the store altogether,” she says, to my surprise.

“Really? Why?”

“Well, I only started it because I had so many foster kids. It brought in extra money when I needed it. With all my babies gone now, I don’t need it. Between my settlement money and Jimmy moving in here, I’m good and don’t need to do this anymore. Once I sell out, I think that’s going to be it.”

For years, Ma worked at Black Ops Bourbon in Crescent Falls. She worked first shift at the warehouse, but when I was in the tenth grade, something happened and she got hurt. She filed a workman’s comp claim and got a pretty decent settlement.

“No store. Whew. I get it but that’s going to be a big adjustment for D-Ville.”

“I know, but it’s time, baby.”

“You deserve to relax and enjoy your new husband. We can’t have people running in and out of here while you’re trying to honeymoon.”

“I know that’s right,” she says with a titter.

“You sure you’re not hungry because I need to fix Jimmy a plate.

You see him shuffling in that kitchen. Let me take care of him and you go get settled.

We can talk later,” she says, then eases off the sofa.

As she treks to the kitchen, she says, “Kassir was here earlier,” stopping my damn heart.