22
My mother’s heels click sharply as she walks through my new house. She’s going with me to sign the closing papers today, but this is her first time seeing the space at all. I have purposely kept her from the house, because I don’t want to hear her complaints.
“This house is twenty years old. Did you get it inspected?” My mom says after walking through the downstairs rooms.
“I did get an inspection, Mom. Actually, my Realtor suggested that I get two, so I did.”
“I don’t suppose I can get you to change your mind, huh? You are determined to be a landlady to your ragtag group of friends.”
“Why you gotta talk about my friends?” I ask.
My mother ignores my question and ascends the stairs. I know that her issue is not with my friends. She actually happens to like them.
“Where are the boys going to be?”
“They’ll be in the rooms down the hall to the right.”
She clears her throat. “Do I need to have another sex talk with you?”
This makes me burst into laughter. “No, Mom.”
“I don’t want y’all getting impregnated at high rates in this house.”
“Mom, we are not getting pregnant! More than half of us are virgins.”
“Are you in that half?” she says over the staircase.
“None of your business.”
My mother stops in her tracks, spins on one heel and starts back down the stairs. “What did you say to me?”
“I was kidding! Yes, Mom. I’m one of the virgins!”
“I don’t know what to believe with Dreya walking around with a gut full of human.”
“I’m not Dreya, Mom.”
The doorbell rings, and I run over to answer it. It’s Big D and Sam. They’re here to look at the space in my mother-in-law suite that I’m converting to a studio. I want to get started working on that as soon as possible.
“Hey, y’all,” I say as I swing the door open.
“Sunday, this place is incredible,” Sam says. “Congratulations.”
“It is, isn’t it?” I say with a smile.
Big D gives me his signature bear hug and spins me around. “Baby girl, I’m so proud of you. You’re moving your crew in too, like a baby Zillionaire or something.”
“What crew? Your homegirls from campus?”
“Yeah, and the guys too.”
“What guys?” Sam asks, his voice taking on a protective tone.
I ignore his tone. “Ricky, Kevin, DeShawn. They’re paying me rent.”
“Does your mother know about this?” Sam asks.
My mom pokes her head out from one of the bedrooms. “Yes, her mother knows about this. It’s her house. I can’t tell her who to move in.”
“Is he sharing a bedroom with you?” Sam asks.
“Uh! Get some business, Sam! You are not here to interrogate me about my living arrangements. You’re here to tell me how to build my recording studio.”
I lead a chuckling Big D and a fuming Sam through the back screen doors, past my pool oasis and into the small cottage where I plan on making the rest of my music.
Sam surveys the space by walking back and forth and counting paces on the floor. He knocks on the walls, measures the biggest room, and then gazes down at the hardwood floors.
“It’s perfect for a studio,” Sam mutters. “But why do you want a recording studio anyway? What’s wrong with the lab?”
“Yeah, what’s wrong with my spot?” Big D asks. “You about to leave us? Go out on your own?”
“No, not at all, but I want to start producing my own tracks.”
Sam folds his arms across his chest and leans on the wall. “You want to be a producer, a songwriter, and a singer. Dang, girl! Can somebody else eat?”
“Yeah, but this is also part of my business plan. I’m going to be selling studio time too.”
“Oh, she’s a mogul in the making, Big D. Watch out, she’s coming for you and Evan,” Sam says.
“Can you please put your hateration in check, Sam? Or are you still mad that DeShawn might see me in my underwear?”
“You think I care if you’re going to be a sugar mama to some broke model?”
My mouth drops open. “A sugar mama? You are out of line, Sam.”
“No. You are! I’ve done everything possible to get you back, and you won’t even hear me out.”
“Sam . . .” Big D says.
“No, Big D, let him talk! He thinks he can do whatever he wants with whomever he wants, and that I’ll just forgive it all.”
“The rumors of my exploits have been greatly exaggerated!”
I shake my head and laugh. “It’s not the rumors that broke us up, Sam. It was your lies. How often do you see Rielle, huh? Do you hang out with her every time you’re in town? Do you take her on shopping sprees?”
“When are you going to get off of that, Sunday?”
“Never! I’m never going to get off of that. Don’t you see? I’ve moved on. You should too.”
Sam pulls . . . no, snatches me into his arms and crushes his lips down on mine. I roughly push him away.
“Does that feel like I’ve moved on, Sunday? All I think about is you. I don’t even go out anymore. All I do is work, because I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve got a thousand tracks I’ll never use, because you’re not going to write the songs to them!”
“I see you have a lot of regrets, Sam, but how do I know you won’t do this again?”
Sam takes my hand, gently this time. “Stop thinking so much! It’s not about what you know! It’s about what you feel.”
“Sorry, Sam. I can’t put myself in that situation again. I just can’t.” I let go of Sam’s hand and take several steps backward, widening the gap of space between us.
Big D kisses me on the forehead and says, “Come on, Sam. We need to go. Sunday, you have a beautiful house. I’m proud of you, girl. We’ll let ourselves out.”
“Sunday, please . . .”
I can’t deal with Sam pleading with me. “Sam, let me go! Let us go!”
Sam’s eyes look glossy, but no tears fall. His face bears a grim expression as he follows Big D out of my cottage.
Breaking up is hard enough, but when it’s like this, it’s impossible. Every time I see Sam it’s like we break up all over again. The feelings and emotions are the same, and it feels as raw as it did the first time we said good-bye.
I step out of the cottage and call out. “Sam!”
He turns with a hopeful look on his face. This stabs me in the heart. “Yes?”
“Don’t come here again. Stay away from me. We can’t get over each other if we keep dealing with each other.”
“You’re not over me yet?” Sam asks, and even still the hope is there.
“I don’t know if I’m over you, Sam. It doesn’t mean that I want us to get back together, though, because I don’t.”
I hear these words come out of my mouth, and for once, I am convinced they are true. I don’t want to go back with Sam. Trust is no longer a part of that situation.
“What are we going to do about Drama’s record?” Sam asks.
“We’re almost done with it anyway.”
Sam nods and storms off, with Big D behind him. And why am I crying again, like the very first time Sam hurt me?
Yeah. Breaking up is the hardest thing ever. Especially when only one person wants to walk away.