THE PROBLEM IS THAT YOU think you have time. Every kid, every adult, every dope boy trying to slang just enough to get by, every big guy praying he loses the fifty pounds keeping him out of the military, and every sad scar of the human experience in this airport.
“Jesus Christ on the cross in springtime. Get up, Fay. You’re embarrassing yourself. Is that an engagement ring? Are you unhinged?” Aabidah growls.
The sister. Always available to ruin a perfectly romantic moment. Fate must have it in for me.
“Aabidah, this isn’t about you,” I say, exasperated. “And it’s a promise ring,” I add quickly.
She is not amused. When T stopped responding to my texts, I had to start hitting Aabidah up for updates, but other than confirming whether or not T was okay, she wouldn’t give me much. But she underestimated me. I got no shame when it comes to T, and people love the idea of love, even when they say they don’t. All I had to do was lose a few games of chess to Benard to find out they were leaving today.
“Are we on Christian Catastrophe? Where’s the creepy host who pretends to be a preacher? Don’t answer that. She can’t see you. You’ll just upset her,” she says, trying to contain her anger.
I’m down on one knee. Luck led me into the airport only moments after Aabidah and T arrived, and I caught them heading into the ladies’ room. I’ve been here ever since. I want to be the first thing T sees when she steps out of the bathroom. A few people start clapping right there in the terminal, but I wave them off. The mariachi band—if you can call two trumpet players from the middle school JV strand of the band—are waiting for my signal, as is their cousin, Javier, who’s filming the whole thing with a digital camera we checked out from the community college. DeAndre flaked out on me.
“It’s not for her. It’s for her sister,” I say, waving away the people passing. The cashier at the chicken place gives me a thumbs-up, and a handful of folks in the waiting area pull out their phones. Not everyone is happy, though. A guy in a FLYHOME T-shirt gives me a dirty look. He has a table set up and is collecting money for plane tickets for first-generation college students who can’t afford to go home on their school breaks. I volunteered with them for a few weekends last summer. T and I both did. It was office work for a good cause that didn’t tire her out. I shrug his way in some kind of half apology for stealing the eyeballs he needs for donations.
“You think you’re helping but you’re not. You’ll just make this harder, and she needs to get on that plane.” Aabidah stops mid-breath and shoots a pointy nude-colored nail at Javier. “If you don’t get that spotlight out of my face, I’ll tell security you’re smuggling oxy.”
Javier shuts the lens and lowers the camera, but I can tell from the blinking red light he’s still filming.
“Why?” I ask. “And don’t sell me some lame-ass story about a music scholarship. I looked it up. It doesn’t exist.”
Tamar’s running away. I don’t know why. Maybe she’s running from me, but she’s gotta know how serious I am about us before she gets on that plane. The ring is a moonstone, surrounded by diamonds, because she’s my universe. Shit! The explanation even sounds lame, but it’s the truth. My Gran was a hippie and it used to belong to her. I can’t ever think of giving it to anyone but T. I’ve loved her since the first time we hung out together—well, maybe not the first day, but definitely the first week. We fit, and if you fit, why waste time looking for something you already got?
“Leave.”
“Not until I talk to Tamar,” I say defiantly.
Aabidah gets up in my face, snatching the ring out of my hands, so I have to stand to get it back. Her face is all screwed up, so she looks like the old lady she pretends to be.
“Listen, I like you, Fay. I do. You always seemed to really care for T, but the only reason I’m not kicking your ass right now is because we have a flight that we cannot miss. This is too much. You are doing too much. If you really love her, you will let her go.” Aabidah sighs, and it’s clear how exhausted she is.
And she thinks I’m crazy. “You don’t let go of the things you love. You hold ’em tighter.”
“Did you read that in a fortune cookie?” she asks, her fire back.
Damn, she’s making this hard, and now I feel stupid for even repeating what that tarot reader told me at the senior carnival. Of course, Tamar wasn’t there. She missed it, just like she missed prom, EJ’s spring-break house party, and Yamilyera’s epic beatdown when Sly finally told Cleo he’d been cheating on her and with whom. There’s a twist in my gut and a scratch behind my eyes every time I close them. I see T’s face, not like the last time I saw her, coughing so hard she couldn’t catch her breath, but smiling like on the first day we met. Sometimes I drift off and an image appears—her hair is different and I’m different too—and then I open my eyes and this shitty reality is still here. But T and I are bigger than reality. She has to know that.
Aabidah narrows her eyes and looks me up and down like she really is about to fight me, Then she lets out a big puff of air and dips back into the ladies’ bathroom. I turn to look at my band in their EAGLE PRIDE T-shirts, eager and excited to help me with my grand gesture, at Javier who can’t stop winking at every girl who passes by. Am I doing this for her? I gently close the box and slide it back into my coat pocket.
I turn to Javier. “Proposal’s canceled.”
My gaze shifts to an old lady sitting in the closest waiting area, eyes glued to us and the scene we’ve created. “Give the old lady the roses and stuff the bear in my trunk. I’ll meet you at the car.” Javier just nods and rushes off.
I walk the rest of the crew to the Krispy Kreme to buy them a dozen doughnuts and send them out of the airport too. I check the leaderboard and see that her plane has been delayed. I’ve got an hour to kill and sit alone with my thoughts. The air smells like sugar, and suddenly I’m sleepy. I put my earbuds in to drown out the voice in my head telling me I’m making a mistake. Aabidah’s probably right. If Tamar wanted to be with me, she would have said it out loud, right? I turn the volume up and let whatever comes on play, as long as the bass is heavy, as heavy as my heart. I close my eyes and see T’s face, her eyes boring into mine, her eyes saying what her lips won’t. And it’s there that I see her heart.