“No, no, no. I understand. There are guys like Dray in Haiti, too. We call them vagabon, drug dealers. Maybe some of them like to study, but they love money more.”
He laughs again. This time, as if I told a really good joke. “Yo, you trying to diss my man Dray? What makes you think he’s a drug dealer?”
I want to swallow back my words. My face gets hot, hot. I’ve spoken too much. “I did not say he’s a drug dealer.”
“So you think I’m a drug dealer?”
“Are you?”
He laughs. “So I’m broke, I can’t read, and I’m a dope boy.”
“I did not say any of those things, Kasim. You seem like a nice person.”
“And what about my boy Dray? You don’t like him, do you?” He starts the car, but he waits for it to warm up.
“He’s mean to Donna. How can you be friends with someone who doesn’t respect his girlfriend?” I ask.
“I told you they got their own thing going on. And besides, me and Dray are not just friends. He’s like fam. I know you can understand that with those crazy cousins of yours.”
“So if he’s family, are you going to do what he does, hit your girlfriend, too?”
He laughs. “Oh, you’re on a roll tonight, shorty. I’m taking tabs.” He holds up his hand and counts off his fingers. “Let’s see . . . We got broke, illiterate, drug dealer, and now, girlfriend beater?”
I laugh and look out my window, which is all fogged up. This moment feels very good, but I almost don’t want it. Something is missing. Maybe I don’t want to be completely happy if everything is not right. I don’t know if I can trust this boy. I take my finger and draw a line. I want to write a word or draw a picture, but a line is the only thing I come up with. Then I just wipe it all away and I can see the moon behind a tall building in the distance.
“I’m nothing like Dray,” Kasim says quietly. “I don’t hit girls. And I would never, ever disrespect you. Shit, I feel bad for even cursing around you. But that’s just who I am. I want you to see the real me.”
I don’t turn to face him. I listen. There’s honesty in his words now.
“Yeah, I sold some weed here and there for some change. I needed to hook my mother up so she could pay some bills, a new muffler for this piece-of-shit car over here, and maybe one day I’d want to go back to school. But I ain’t no kingpin, know what I’m saying? So it’s just favors here and there. Shit you do for fam.”
A cold chill travels up my spine. Shit you do for fam. The way he says it, it’s like he would do anything for his family, like for love and respect. I say it out loud. “Shit you do for fam.” I turn to him.
“Shit you do for fam,” he repeats.
The drive back to American Street is long and quiet. The silence swells between us and it’s warm and comforting. When he pulls up to the house, he turns to me and doesn’t smile. The sun has set and I can only see his face from the light of the distant moon. His eyes look sleepy, but they move all about my whole face. I let his eyes caress me, until he reaches over to move my braid away from my cheek.
He leans in. I lean in. He kisses me. He parts his lips, but I keep mine closed, and I slowly pull away. He’s frozen there with his mouth slightly open, until he breathes. “Damn.”
ELEVEN
“DON’T GIVE IT up too quick, though,” Pri says as I’m changing out of my clothes. She’s sprawled out on my air mattress wearing a hooded sweatshirt and sweatpants—her at-home uniform. A pair of big blue headphones hangs around her neck.
“Oh, Princess!” I say, as if she’s just accused me of being a bouzin, a whore.
“It’s Pri, Fabulous! So. You gonna let Kasim smash that or make him wait?”
“Smash? He will not smash anything!” I say.
“Good. He’s nice and all, but make him sweat and beg.”
“Leave her alone!” Donna calls out from the bathroom. “Don’t listen to her. Why don’t you worry about your own love life, Pri.”
“No, Fab, don’t listen to her. Donna will buy you lingerie and shit and even book you two a hotel room if you leave it up to her,” Pri says.
“No, I won’t!” Donna yells.
Pri shakes her head and gestures for me not to believe anything Donna says.
I giggle and ask, “Do you have a love life, Pri?”
“Yes, she does!” Donna calls out again. “She can’t even step to the girl she likes.”
Pri quickly gets up from the mattress. “Thanks a lot, D!”
“Wait,” I say. “You like somebody?”
“Don’t ask me no dumb-ass questions, Fabulous.”
I stand in front of her. I don’t want her to leave. I want her to talk to me the same way she did when I was braiding her hair. “Do you need new braids?” I ask.
“So you can be all up in my business?”
“What’s her name?”
“None of your business.”
“Her name is Taj,” Donna says. The bathroom door is closed, but she can still hear everything we’re saying.