“You’re always accusing me of something!” Jake yelled.
“That’s because you’re always guilty!” Jazz replied.
“So now you’re a judge, jury, and Jesus?” Jazz folded her arms and gave Jake the evil eye as they stood on his porch. He felt the fire of her wrath and the heat of the sun all at the same time.
They were on their way to the movie theater and that was when the whole argument had started. Jazz had turned to look Jake in his deep brown eyes and touched his hand. Then she froze. It was as if she saw the world coming to an end. Her heart rate began to increase and her palms became sweaty.
He watched her suspiciously, trying to think back to a similar moment during their four months of dating, so he would have a point of reference. Jake commanded his mind to upload any familiar memories that resembled that particular moment like the incident on the porch. Nothing.
“Jake, where were you last night?”
“What?” he answered. “I was at home.” Jazz closed her brown eyes for a few seconds and opened them. She just wanted him to be honest. She needed him to tell her the truth so she could trust him completely.
“You were…you wasn’t at home,” she stated firmly. Not willing to go around the corner and back. Straight to the point this time. “You was at that club, watching them nasty chicks shaking their stinking butts.” Jake’s eyes widened. Unbelievable, he thought. Freaking unbelievable. How she be knowing my business like this?
“Ah, listen Jazz…I said…I told you I was at home.” Jazz saw him quivering slightly.
She turned her head in a devious way, like a snake about to strike. “You was up in that strip club and you have just two seconds to tell me the truth or we are done!” Jake thought about the response he would present to his girl. Should I stick to my story or confess? Who the hell told her I was up in that club? Is someone spying on me? Must be one of them hoes I dumped trying to set me up, telling Jazz all my business.
“I was home, Jazz. I swear to God.” Jazz shook her head in disappointment. Lying dog. Another stupid dude I have to drop like a damn bad habit. They never tell the truth. At this rate, I ain’t never gonna get married. Here I am at 19 and I can’t even find a decent dude to share my time with.
Those were her thoughts as she watched Jake slip from her fingers and flutter away like a butterfly. Disappointment splattered her brown face. And though she should have been grateful she was insightful enough to discover hidden truths, Jazz cried over another crushed relationship. And somewhere far within she was reminded how much she didn’t like what she was able to do.
By Stacy-Ann Facey
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