Pride(46)

“Zuri, I know,” he says, raising his voice too. “I didn’t think . . .” He pauses. A car passes us and he speeds up a bit. “I didn’t think I’d like you the way I do now.”

“Excuse you?” I say, turning to looking at him again.

“I like you, Zuri Benitez. I was wrong about Janae. And you. I’d like to get to know you better. Let me take you out. Make it a legit date.”

I can’t help but laugh. It’s either because what he just said is hella funny or I don’t know how to respond and it makes me nervous. Or both. So I keep laughing.

“What’s so funny?” he asks.

“You,” I say. “You are funny, Darius Darcy.”

“I wasn’t joking, though.”

“Yes, you were, because I can’t believe you would ask me out after what you did to both my sister and Warren. In fact, we shouldn’t’ve kissed at all. Now that was a mistake.”

“So you think I’m a bad person?”

“Yes! You judged them, and you turned your nose up at them. And me. I know what this is, Darius. You’re so used to girls throwing their panties at you that you’re trying to figure out why I’m not doing that too. You think you can kiss me and have me wrapped around your little finger like Carrie. Nope! Find some other impressionable chick on the block, because I am not the one.”

“I don’t think like that, Zuri,” he says quietly as he places both hands at the top of the steering wheel.

“You don’t have to think like that, Darius. You already are that. I saw your game from across the street,” I say, folding my arms and turning my whole body away from him.

After a few long minutes and a long drive down a whole other highway, he says, “Zuri, I’m sorry I can’t be more like your boy in the hood, Warren.”

“Oh, you can never be like Warren,” I say way too loudly.

“I would never want to be like Warren. Not in a billion years,” he says.

“I know you don’t like him just ’cause he’s from the projects and all. Me and Warren, we’re made of the same stuff. If you can’t stand him, then clearly you can’t stand me.”

“You know, Zuri. Sometimes I’m baffled by how judgmental you are,” Darius says, taking one hand off the steering wheel.

I side-eye him. “Baffled? I should be the one who’s baffled. And you, Darius Darcy, are the walking definition of judgmental.”

“I’m not judgmental. I’m just an excellent judge of character. You fall short in that department.”

“Character? So you judged my sister’s character?”

“Yes, I did. And she’s cool,” he says. “If you need some tips on how to accurately judge a person’s character, just let me know.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I know how to read people just fine.”

Darius inhales and says, “So you read that boyfriend of yours and decided to ignore the writing on the wall.”

“That boyfriend of mine? Warren? I don’t judge a book by its cover.”

He laughs a little. “So you’ve read a whole book called Warren from the Projects and you know everything about him.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I think you need to stay away from Warren,” he says flat out. We’re in the left lane now, and he’s driving slower than before.

So I laugh. “Of course you would say that.”

“You don’t know Warren like I do, Zuri.”

“You’re right. I don’t. I know the real him.”

“You know what? Fine. Have it your way.” Darius raises the volume on the music, and this is what takes up the widening silence between us. Every now and then, the recent memory of that kiss tries to creep into my thoughts, but I shut it down. I was fooled by my own emotions, by the distance from home. And as the lights of Manhattan appear on the horizon, it’s like everything I knew about Darius comes right back to slap me in the face.





Twenty


BOTH MAMA AND Papi are waiting up for me when I get back home. It’s a little past midnight, and that was the longest car ride of my life. We hit some traffic as we got into the city, and Darius was playing the most boring music ever. I’ve never been happier to see my block.

“Are you okay, mija?” Papi asks as he gets up from the couch to examine my face and kiss me on the forehead.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I say groggily. I’m bone tired, and I really don’t want to answer any of his questions right now.

“So are you two seeing each other?” Mama says.

“Ma!” I say. “Are you serious? Good night!”

I make my way to the closed door of our bedroom. I can hear my sisters giggling even with the lights turned off.

“Darius and Zuri sittin’ in a tree” is the very first thing I hear when I open the door.

“What are you, like, five? Shut up, Layla!” I say as I turn on the lights.

“K-I-S-S-I-N-G,” Kayla finishes off.

“First comes love,” Layla adds.

“Then comes nothing!” I cut her off. “There was no kissing, there’s no love, there’s nothing. Now shut up and go to sleep!”