10. You Made That Abundly Clear
So, after Devin dropped my handicapped ass like a bad habit, I headed back down home to Memphis for a while. It wasn’t exactly conducive to my album promotion, as I’d planned to be in Canada the week after the accident, as well as doing my publicity rounds over in Europe. But then, maybe it was for the best. I needed to slow down. I needed to gain some perspective on what I was doing with myself.
Over the course of my first two weeks at home, I was able to reflect on a lot. Being that our neighborhood is basically a forest with houses implanted every couple of blocks, even if I could walk normally, I didn’t have much to do. I’d play Halo with Trace, watch soap operas with my mom, watch my granny cook dinner every night, and then I filled in the gaps with arbitrary contemplation.
I mulled over what Devin did to me, what Britney had said, what I’d done to Summer; and I realized that I was quickly and surely becoming something I absolutely did not want to be. I didn’t want to be the typical fuck ‘em and leave ‘em asshole. I didn’t want to be known as the guy that couldn’t commit, or the prick that was never genuine. It was all too easy. Fun for a few nights, sure; but I wanted relationships “ real ones “ that were based in friendship, trust and all that crap.
Maybe it was because the holidays were quickly approaching and I was feeling more spirited and less despondent than I was when I first got home, but I was pretty much determined to try and right a few wrongs. Apologizing is a desperate habit, I know, but considering the path I was headed down, it was fair to say that I was close enough to throw in the towel. And the way I saw it, good karma could slap me in the face, too, right?
Ironically enough, though, the day I got all these good intentions shooting in and out of my consciousness, it was the same day that ‘Cry Me A River’ was world premiering on TRL. Not exactly the boost I needed to call Britney and apologize for everything I’d been insinuating about her throughout my promotion, but maybe a call and a bit of a warning from me would soften the blow. Besides, with most of my recent days having been spent hanging out with my mom and my grandparents, she would certainly be a welcome break from the monotony.
Here comes the showdown
What goes around comes around
And the crowds are waiting
After finding my cell in the mess of sheets I’d created on the sofa bed in our basement, I tiredly rolled out of the bed and hobbled up the narrowly wooden staircase that led to the kitchen. My mom was in there on the phone, so I kept moving until I made it to the quiet living room where I could watch the tranquil, comforting scenery of the lake across the street from our house. I’d probably need the consolation of the serene, oversized puddle within the next few minutes.
I made sure that my mom was still babbling away on the phone before opening my V60 to dial the memorized numbers of Britney’s cell. There were six rings and a beep before her voice told me to leave a message after yet another beep. So I did. “Hey, it’s me,” I awkwardly began. “I, umm... I was hoping I’d get to talk to you. But I guess you’re busy or whatever, so just gimme a call when you can. Umm. Bye.”
I flipped the phone closed and sighed, falling back into the firm pillows that decorated the couch. I probably would’ve had more luck had I blocked my number, but hey, at least I tried. While waiting (and hoping) for Britney to return my call, I lazily stretched my legs over the length of the sofa and continued to stare out of the window at my mellow neighborhood.
I was just about to enter that phase of boredom where I wanted to get my ass up and go bug my mom, but then I saw one of our terriers, Bearlie, roaming the empty street which scared the living shit out of me until I saw the unfamiliar chocolate face of some chick walking behind him. It was weird to even see her over in our neck of the woods, ‘cause I didn’t think black people lived on this side of Millington; well, besides Devin, and she was only half black, so that only half counted. But anyway, the smiling girl with my dog appeared to be around fifteen or so, so I decided to limp to the door and have a little fun with her.
I opened the front door to an unexpected gust of November chill, but continued to the walkway, wearing nothing but my scrubs and a t-shirt, watching the girl talk to Bearlie while the two of them strolled down the street. “You stole my dog and now you’re gonna act like you don’t see me?” I joked loudly.
She turned her head, which had been covered by a huge, white hooded sweatshirt, still grinning wildly. “Actually, I didn’t see you,” she replied. I could already hear a thick Southern accent in her tone. “What’s up?”
“Just wondering why you got my dog.” I was smiling, but my sentence was dipped in more asshole than I intended.
In turn, I got attitude back from her. “‘Cause your mama asked if I wanted to walk him. But I can bring him back if you think I’m gonna do somethin’ to your fuckin’ dog.”
“Whoa, slow down, mama. I was just kidding,” I chuckled, beginning to inch down our long driveway.
“Whatever.”
“You got a lotta attitude to be so young,” I commented. “Calm down, baby.”
“And you got a lotta nerve talkin’ to me like you know me,” she shot back.
I finally reached the edge of the driveway, pretending to check our mailbox in spite of the fact that I knew the mail hadn’t run yet. I just wanted a reason to get closer to her in case she tried to run off with my dog. “You’re right. I’m sorry,” I demurred. “How ‘bout we start over?” I held out my hand, waiting for her to approach me and introduced myself. “I’m Justin.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
“Okay...” Her magnetic smile was long gone and this was starting just get weird. “And you are?”
“I don’t think that’s any of your damn business.”
“I think it’s my business if you’re walkin’ around with my dog, ma’am.”
“Fine,” she sighed, “my name’s Michaela. Okay?”
“That’s a start,” I smiled. “And you live around here?”
“Nah, I came from Mississippi to walk your dog,” she quipped sardonically.
“You can stop with the attitude,” I instructed, beginning to shiver from the cool early afternoon. “I’m tryin’ to be nice.”
“Well, thank you, but I don’t need your hospitality or your small-talk.” She picked up Bearlie from the ground and handed him over to me. “I’m gettin’ cold, so I’m gonna head back to my house if you don’t mind, Mr. Timberlake.”
“You can call me Justin,” I told her, examining her small eyes, trying to figure out whether they were brown or black. Scanning the many houses that blanketed Fawn Lake Drive, I was pretty sure that I knew all of my neighbors, so I was confused as to why I didn’t know her. “So, which one is your house?”
She pointed across the street to the cabin-like estate that sat just beside my favorite lake. “Just moved in in August,” she finally divulged. “Me and my mama.”
“Wow,” I marveled. The place wasn’t huge, but it was certainly more than enough for just two people. “Damn, your mom must be loaded.”
“Hardly,” she scoffed, turning back to me. “We both work hard to pay for it and to keep me in college. Something I assume you know nothing about.”
“You’re right, I don’t,” I chuckled, yawning at the same time as my dog. “So, you’re in college?”
“That’s what I just said.”
“I’m sorry, I just “ I mean, you look like you just started high school.”
“Well, looks aren’t everything, are they?”
“I hope you keep that in mind,” I smirked. “If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you then?”
“I’ll be twenty in February, if you must know.”
That was certainly in my ‘keep talking to her’ age-range. It was good to know that this awkward, unnerving conversation wasn’t a total waste. “Oh.”
“I guess...” I followed her gaze to the front of my house where my mom had just come out to stand in the doorway. “Hey, Mrs. Harless,” she called out to her, grinning widely. The way she smiled told me that she probably did it a lot.
“Hey, Michaela,” my mom waved back, then crossed her arms from the cold. “You’re finished with Bearlie already? Y’all are usually gone for a good hour!”
“Yeah, well I gotta get back home and get some work done for my class this afternoon.”
“Oh goodness, you work too hard, girl. It’s almost Thanksgiving!”
“Yeah, I know!” she chuckled. “But finals are coming up, so we have to tie up all the loose ends before we take a break.”
“I see. Well honey, I won’t keep you. Get your work done and make those grades,” Mama encouraged. “You’re still comin’ on Thursday, right?”
“You know it!”
I had been standing idly in the driveway, listening to their conversation, realizing how much I miss by not being home. My mom’s charismatic ways had built her relationships with everyone in the neighborhood. Meanwhile, I knew maybe everyone’s names and whether they had dogs or not. I envied my mom “ and everyone else in the neighborhood, for that matter “ for being able to sustain a home life.
“You’re coming to our house for Thanksgiving?” I interrupted.
“If you don’t mind,” she sarcastically asked, raising her arched eyebrows.
As I was about to respond, a sudden wind blew the hood off of her head and I instantly fell in love with her neck-length curly hair. The auburn color definitely set off her mocha features. “Cool,” was all I managed to get out at that point.
“Oh, Justin, someone’s been calling your cell nonstop for the past five minutes,” my mother informed me. “I totally forgot that’s why I came out here,” she chuckled.
“Thanks, ma.” Steadying Bearlie in my left arm, I extended my right hand to my new neighbor with a dorky smile. “Michaela, it was nice to meet you.”
“I’ll see y’all around,” she answered, shaking my hand in reply. “Bye, Mrs. Harless! Bye, Bearlie,” she cooed, petting his slightly shaggy mane before casually strolling across the street and down to her house.
“She seems nice,” I remarked to my mom as I slowly made my way back up our driveway. “Kinda feisty, though.”
“She’s a sweet girl,” she evenly replied, taking her dog from my arms. “You two should hang out.”
I laughed, following my mom back into the warmth of our house, intending on heading straight for where I left my phone on the couch. “I don’t think so.”
“I know she’s not Devin, but I bet y’all would have fun.”
“Ma,” I whined.
“I know, I know. You don’t wanna hear her name.”
“I don’t compare everyone I meet to her, contrary to popular belief,” I proclaimed, finding a seat at the table in our breakfast nook. “I haven’t even thought about her ass in days.”
“I’m sure,” she dismissed me with a smile. “I saw you eyeing Michaela out there. Sizing her up, huh?”
“Well there wasn’t much to eye. She was a tiny little thing.”
“She’s petite,” my mom corrected me. “That’s what makes her so adorable.”
“I'll take your word for it,” I chuckled. I began to sift through my missed calls, seeing that they were all from Britney and I quickly excused myself from the table. “Can you make me some breakfast?” I requested, heading through the open doorway.
“It’s 1:00 in the afternoon!” Mama called after me.
“French toast is fine with me!” I shot back. I plopped into the elaborate upholstery of our sofa, once again, taking the exact same shape and form I’d previously been sitting in, and pressed the Send button to return Britney’s return calls.
“Why would you call and then ignore me calling you back?” she answered her phone loudly.
“I went outside for a minute,” I calmly told her.
“Must be nice.”
“What?”
“You get to go out without a camera in your face,” she stated as if it were obvious what she meant. “Must be nice.”
“It’s one of a few luxuries that come with being home.”
“Yeah...”
“So, how have you been?”
“Not bad,” she rationed. “Better than I was the last time we spoke.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” I recognized the sounds of her mother, her brother and her Felicia in the background, so I decided not to prolong the conversation. “So“.”
“How are you, J? You must be excited about how well the album’s going.”
“Yeah, it’s been great. But listen“.”
“So, what’s up?” she interrupted again. “I’m sure you called for a reason.”
Maybe it was just me and my apprehensiveness, but our whole conversation seemed to start off really weird to me. “Yeah. I did,” I finally revealed. “I wanted to call because, umm... well, the video for my new song comes out today. And um...”
“Whatever you have to say, just spit it out, dude.”
“Look, I know I haven’t exactly been the perfect ex-boyfriend or whatever, but I thought it important that you just keep in mind that even after everything that went on with us, I never set out to be an asshole to you; I didn’t intend to hurt you with anything I’ve said in the past few months. I’ve just been tryin’ to sell an album“.”
“Yes, you’ve made that abundly clear,” she interjected, mispronouncing the word.
“Abundantly,” I innately corrected.
“What?”
“The word is ‘abundantly.’”
“Whatever, dude. You know what I mean.”
“I do,” I assured, “but anyway, I just wanted you to know that I was sorry.”
“You’re sorry?”
“Yeah,” I coughed to ease my tension. “I didn’t really mean it the last time I said it, but I do now. I realize that it’s been a bunch of prick PR moves on my part and I apologize.”
“Well... wow. I appreciate that, J. It means a lot to me that you thought to call me just to say that.”
“Well...” I trailed off, “there’s more.”
“Okay?”
“I dunno if you’ve heard anyone talking about it, but um...” I paused at that moment, because I didn’t exactly know how to come right out and say ‘Hey, I’m gonna be screwing you over one more time when my video comes out this afternoon.’
“Umm?”
Nope, couldn’t do it. “Well, my birthday’s coming up soon, and I wanted to see if you were gonna be around to come to my party.” Wow, that sentence just made me sound like I was about twenty-one going on twelve.
“That more than two months away...”
“I mean, since I’m home doing nothing, I might as well start planning,” I lied foolishly. “Right?”
“I guess...”
I was getting antsy about ending the conversation since I chickened out with exposing my true motive for calling. “So, do me a favor and think about it, okay?”
“Okay. Cool, man.” Obviously, I couldn’t see her, but the color of her voice told me that she was smiling.
“All right, well my mom’s cookin’ breakfast for me, so I gotta run. But I’m glad I got to talk to you.”
“It was good to hear from you,” she replied. “I’m glad to know that we can still be friends, dude.”
Uhh... “Yeah. Well, I hope y’all have a Happy Thanksgiving and everything...”
“You too. Tell your mom I said ‘Hi’, okay?”
“Will do,” I lied again. “Bye.”
Okay, so that didn’t exactly go as I planned. But maybe since we were ‘friends’, the video wouldn’t faze her. Besides, it’s not like I made her out to be the only bad guy. Hell, that video is closer to the truth than anything I ever said out loud. She fucked me, I fucked her right back. Maybe this should make us even. Maybe we could laugh about it all at the end of the day. Maybe we would be friends.
Ha ha, hoo hoo, thought you’d get the money too
Greedy motherfuckers try to have their cake and eat it too
Or, maybe I was crazy.
Oh, gonna be a showdown, knock down, drag out
Gunslinger, shoot ‘em up
Next on my list of ‘fix it’s was Summer McKinney. I definitely struggled with calling her, because truth be told, I had been absolutely terrible to her. Britney, in some shape, way or form, deserved what she got. Summer, on the other hand, had been nothing but angelic to me and I left her high and dry because I got bored. Britney owed me her forgiveness. Summer owed me absolutely nothing. So this was sure to take an immense amount of begging on my part.
“May I speak to Summer?” I meekly asked when her phone was picked up by the fourth ring.
“It’s me, Asshole,” she shot back. “You pick a hell of a time to come to me politely.”
“Well,” I chuckled nervously, “I wanted to see how you were doing.”
“Still pregnant. Still hate you.”
Yes, you heard correctly. “Summer, I’m sorry.”
“You are sorry. But don’t you dare try to tell me that after all this time, you’re apologetic.”
“I am, though. I’ve been unbelievably selfish and immature. And I apologize.
“Ha.” She scoffed exaggeratedly. “An apology is only egotism inside out. Try again, Justin.”
“I just need you to know that I’m here f“.”
“No, listen. What I need you to know is that I’m done with it. I’m done with you. I tried to be honest, I tried to be up front; I gave you ample time to come to grips with all of this. But instead, first, you accuse me of lying. Then, you tell me to get an abortion? Because you’re too much of a baby to handle a baby?” She spoke quickly and let her words run together, packing a bigger punch than what I was ready for. “Frankly, Justin, if you’re willing to tell me that I ‘have to get rid of it,’ as you said back in August, then I don’t want you. I don’t need you. So please, keep your pitiful sense of obligation to yourself.”
“Summer, I was insane,” I began to plead. “Don’t shut me out.”
“No, you knew very well what you were doing. You pulled me in; you let me believe that you were gonna stick around. I didn’t ask for much. And if I asked for too much, you could’ve said so at any given moment. But your ego told you that I couldn’t handle you telling me No.”
“That’s not what it was.”
“That’s exactly what it was. And I really wasn’t tryin’ to fall in love with you, Justin. All I ever wanted was for you to stay.”
“Well, I’m ready to stay. You wanna have the baby, I’m there.” I heard myself saying the words, but I didn’t quite grasp what they actually meant until they were hanging in the air over her soft sniffles and my jagged breathing.
“It’s too late.” She sighed heavily, her voice sounding tired and dissonant. “Because I don’t need your money or your pathetic pleas. I needed your time. I needed for you to be willing, trusting, attentive“.”
“You got it,” I jumped in.
“No, see, if you fool me once, then you’re to blame. Fool me twice, then I’d be the idiot. You’re not gonna leave me again,” she sniffed. “You’re not gonna abandon me. You’re not going to be the father to my child that mine was to me. You see, I waited my whole life, willing to give him a second chance. And I’m sorry, but you just don’t get one.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair,” she shot back. “I won’t have you traipsing in and out of his or her life. So just quit while you’re ahead and forget about the two of us.”
“Are you fucking kidding?” I almost shouted. This was the wrong conversation to be having in the living room of my mother’s house when I’d yet to even warn her of the possibility that I had a child on the way. Nonetheless, in a raised voice, I told her, “That’s my kid, too!”
“Yeah, the one that you were ready to kill just a couple of months ago.”
“I said I was sorry, Summer.”
“Too little, too late, Asshole.” I was ready to protest, but she amply added, “Listen, I have to get going, but fuck you and have a nice day, okay?”
The line went dead and I stared at the screen of my phone seeing that call had, in fact, ended. I was ready for an argument, but her complete state of rigidity really threw me off. I dunno, maybe it was one of her pregnant mood swings or somethin’, but I was pretty sure that I was about to be up for a bit of a battle over the next few months.
This is exactly the kind of stupid shit that makes me do stupid shit. Did I not try to apologize? Was I not trying to fix the idiotic shit I’d done? I know I should’ve hit the road to reparation when she told me back in August, but I was caught up in myself. I accused her of lying, even though I knew that wasn’t the case. I guess I just didn’t want it to be true.
This time, I couldn’t place the blame on Britney. I couldn’t call Summer crazy for getting pregnant, ‘cause she certainly didn’t do it alone. It was my bad judgement that fucked me up, and it was a responsibility that I’d have to assume for the rest of my life. I was still a fucking kid. I used my spare time to play video games. I was too stupid to even use protection that night. How in the hell was I supposed to handle having a kid? What in God’s name was I supposed to tell the world?
All those burning questions “ that was my mindset when Summer first handed me that news on a shit-covered silver platter in the heat of an argument. Being on a promotion high, I arrogantly blew her off.
But five months later, the roles were reversed and now, I was sitting there trying to beg her to let me in; to give me some attention; to let me be a part of she and our child’s life. It’s funny how those two phone calls worked out, though. I started out wanting to make amends and possibly see Summer, and somehow ended up doing the opposite while inadvertently making plans to see Britney “ and on my birthday of all days. It’s true what they say about women: If they don’t get you one way, they get you another.
Yeah well, the entire ordeal with the two of them made me say ‘Fuck it’. I was ready to get some women back... one way or another.
Oh, who you gonna give it to, who you gonna steal from
Who’s your next victim?
Oh, who you gonna lie to, who you gonna cheat on
Who you gonna leave alone?
Oh, what you gonna tell her after she discovers you don’t really love her?
“Mom!” I yelled into the kitchen, not bothering to even move.
“Justin!” she called in response, playfully mocking me as she tended to do.
“Mom, can you give me Michaela’s number?” It was time to have a little more fun.
Oh, gonna be a showdown, knock down, drag out
Gunslinger, shoot ‘em up
Lyrics:
“Showdown” - Britney Spears (In The Zone)
“Son Of A Gun” - Janet Jackson (All For You)
Story Tags: daddyj friendsturnedlovers interracial boyfriendj love angryj tourj
