Pride(45)

My stomach is in knots when we make our way back to the city. I push on the radio to fill the quiet, to hush my own spinning thoughts. Slowly Darius inches his hand across the armrest and weaves his fingers through mine. And I don’t let go, even as my insides turn into gooey, sticky sweetness.

Haikus

I am that tall glass

of lemonade where sugar

sits at the bottom,

Never rising to the top. Sweet and sour don’t

mix to quench this thirst

Wrapping around my

throat where a bittersweet song is

lodged. You serenade

Me while I sip this

honey lemonade potion,

you are a love brew.

Damn boy, you got me

thirsty over you. Mouth dry,

lips chapped, I’m dreaming

Of quenching waters

and all I wanna do is

swim deep in this thing

Called lemonade where

bittersweet elixirs sooth

the soul like moist lips

Touching, bodies merged

in this dance while sugar stirs

to the top, whirling Like Ochún in her

yellow dress swirling to the

drums, making all this

Sharp-tongued bitterness

submit to the queen bee called

my heart. You got me.

—Thirsty





Nineteen


THERE’S SOMETHING HAPPENING to my body. But this isn’t love. It was just a kiss.

Wasn’t it?

I sit back in the car, feeling free. Darius is in full control, and I’m okay with it for now. We’re easing toward New Jersey with music I’ve never heard before blasting in the car. Darius bops his head, sings some of the lyrics, licks his lips a few times, and glances at me plenty of times. I start to smile. My lips are a half moon, but my whole body is smiling too.

We’re almost at the toll booths and the traffic comes to a crawl. Darius turns down the music and asks if I’m feeling okay.

I nod.

“Are you feeling better than you did earlier?” he asks again.

“What do you mean by ‘better’?” I ask.

“Well, I know you weren’t feeling my grandmother, or her house, or me.”

“Oh, so you wanna know if I’m feeling better about you?”

He laughs. “Touché, Ms. Benitez. So how do you feel about me?”

I laugh too. “You don’t waste any time, I see.”

“I’ve already wasted too much time,” he says, easing the car up close behind the one ahead of us.

“What do you mean by that?” I look directly at him this time because I want a direct answer.

“I should’ve kissed you a long time ago.”

“Um, no, you should not have. I would’ve hated you even more.”

“Oh, really? Hate is a strong word.”

“And it’s also a strong emotion.”

“Emotions are feelings and feelings change. Is it safe to say that you don’t hate me anymore?” He’s now driving toward the E-ZPass lane, but the traffic is still slow.

That’s not a question I’m ready to answer, not even for myself. And Darius knows this because I take too long to respond, so instead I ask, “Does your brother hate my sister?”

“Why would you think Ainsley hates your sister?”

“He broke up with her. Janae really liked him, and he dropped her like a sack of dirty laundry. So I see how you Darcy boys do,” I say, crossing my arms.

He laughs a little. “Ainsley didn’t drop her. And we Darcy boys don’t do anything. You’re a little know-it-all, aren’t you, Ms. Benitez?”

“I’m not a little anything, Mr. Darcy. And Ainsley dropped Janae. I saw the whole thing go down at that cocktail party of yours. Why did he break up with her just like that? Did he think he was too good for my sister?”

“No. He didn’t think that at all,” Darius says as he drives through the E-ZPass toll. The traffic starts to speed up, and I want to end the conversation now so that he can focus on the road. But he keeps talking. “Ainsley wouldn’t do that. He just . . . when he falls for a girl, he falls hard.”

“Okay. So clearly he didn’t fall for Janae. But still, that was really shady. He played her right in his own house in front of all those people.”

“Zuri, I told Ainsley to break it off with Janae.”

I just look at him. And he keeps his eyes on the road. “What?”

He inhales, and the car sways a little bit. But he definitely needs to clarify that, so I ask again.

“Darius, what did you just say?”

“I told Ainsley that I didn’t think Janae was good for him.” He exhales. He switches to the right lane and slows down a little bit.

“Okay.” I nod and purse my lips. “You told Ainsley that you didn’t think Janae was good for him.” I repeat every word he said, just to make sure I heard him correctly. This is the most I can do right now without calling him everything but a child of God, as Mama would say.

“Zuri, I was wrong. I know that now,” he says. He keeps trying to look at me as he drives.

“Oh, you were dead wrong, Darius,” I say really loud. I put my neck and hands into every word so he knows that I’m pissed. He’s the only one who can hear and see me right now. And I’m that close to cursing him out too. “What? So you thought Janae wasn’t good enough for your brother? You don’t want no gold-diggin’ hood rats up in his pockets? Well, guess what—I’m a hood rat too, and sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t dig for gold. I dig for dreams, goals, and aspirations. And so does Janae. It was his loss, Darius. And yours too, for making such a dumb mistake and judging us like that!”