Shards Of Being: Ch. 9

JOSEPH

I could hear her rummage behind me as she helped empty out my dresser while I continued to pack my things into boxes. Antoine’s roommate’s lease had expired and he had asked me if I’d like to move in when we got back from the Poconos. I accepted, not really talking it over with my mother, who'd been more like my roommate since I hit puberty and I began to distance myself from her. It bothered her then and it bothered her now. I was her only son. And her only son was moving out. I was making good money at the construction yard with Uncle Santiago and working part time as a security guard. Granting me the luxury of being able to finally be on my own, pay my own bills, and do just about whatever I wanted without anyone telling me what to do.

Still. Leaving her here on her own felt...wrong somehow. It’s only been us two since...well...as long as I could remember. The arguments between us had only increased within the last year and a half and I just couldn’t take it anymore. It was time. I needed my privacy, my independence.

People did this all the time, right? They left their parents and went out into the world all on their own. I’d still call to check in on her. Probably drop by to see her whenever I got the chance. This change didn’t have to be so drastic.

However, drastic was just the word to describe the situation, as soon as I heard her stepping out of the room, slamming the bathroom door across the hall shut behind her. I already knew she was crying and I hated myself for it. I turned to see what had caused such a reaction other than the obvious and it had been a picture of the two of us, back in our homeland of Dominican Republic. My childhood home in the background of this picture had been washed away by a tropical storm years after this picture was taken, long after we left our country behind to come here.

We never really talked about why we had to leave everything behind. Only that America was where we needed to be and where we'd be staying for a while. I haven't returned since then. My mother has and has yet to explain her reasoning for anything she does. It was another touchy subject that only added to the recent friction between us.

I had no idea this picture was in my drawer, but I shoved it back into one of the boxes and headed down the hallway towards the bathroom. Before I could knock, the doorbell for the entrance downstairs of my building caught my attention. I ignored my shaking hands and pressed the button to ask who was at the front entrance.

“Who’s there?”

“Sophia. You still need help packing?” Her arrival was unexpected. I hadn’t heard from her since we returned to our normal lives after the Poconos. What she indirectly shared with me on that golf course that day suddenly came rushing back and I contemplated on whether this was a good a time to unpack that bag.

“How’d you know I was packing?”

“There’s a thing called social media. Maybe you’ve heard of it.” I smirked at her smartass remark and pressed the button so she’d be able to enter the building. I’d completely forgotten I posted a picture of my messy room on my social media page earlier. My apartment was on the second floor, so I decided to wait for her by the staircase, a water bottle in hand. If she was going to help me with these boxes, I had to keep her hydrated.

Her bare face caught my attention first. It was a rare sight, seeing as she was always wearing that dark stuff around her eyes for some reason. There was a slight pink tint to her pale cheeks and it made her look like a flushed porcelain doll, with her curls tucked behind a headband.

“Am I early? Where are the usual hellhounds you surround yourself with?” she asked as she took the water bottle I handed over to her and took a few sips.

“Working. Antoine will be here later to help me move all this stuff. Why aren’t you at school?” I inquired as I ushered her into my apartment and locked the door behind me.

“I’m a senior with a straight B average. I think skipping a day to help out a friend won't hurt my grades too much,” Sophia countered and I smiled at her as I showed her into my room and pointed to my video game collection. It was the only thing I had left to pack and it needed to be handled with care.

“I'm sure you didn’t skip school and come all the way to The Heights to help me out. What’s going on?” I bumped her shoulder as we bubble wrapped my video games individually and placed them one by one into the boxes on top of my bed.

“I just wanted to see a friendly face,” she admitted and while her tone expressed a hint of sorrow, I could tell there was more behind her visit.

“I wouldn’t describe my face as friendly.”

“No? Let me take another look at it then,” she teased as I turned to face her, leaning in closer to her pretty face. Her cheeks flushed even more when I grinned and she cleared her throat.

“Are you wearing a new cologne?” Her question practically came out in a rasp and I held back a smile.

“Maybe. Tara seems to like it,” I mentioned, watching for her reaction. She nodded, looking away from me, returning her attention to my video game collection.

“I thought you were breaking things off with her.”

“Yeah, Tara doesn’t understand the concept. And the sex is great. Why mess with a good thing right?” I added, and raised an eyebrow when she started laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“No, nothing, nothing. I’m just trying to picture who wears the pants in your relationship. You or her.” She was baiting me. And for the first time, it was working.

“The pants are coming off regardless of who’s wearing them,” I quipped and her gaze shot me a heated glance. She stepped closer, while I stayed in position, watching her every move.

“Is that right?”

“Definitely,” I answered her, daring her to make a move. I could tell she wanted to. There was too much tension in the room between us, enveloping every part of my body. I wanted to think, perhaps the chemistry between us was palpable enough for her to be affected too.

Did she not feel it? How could she not? It's been crackling between us since the moment we met. Yes, everything was fucked up right now. She was in mourning and I was still coping with debilitating depression with sex and weed and alcohol. We'd make quite the pair.

“Your phone is ringing,” she said, but her words took a minute to register as I had been focusing more on trying not to kiss her. I almost cursed out loud as I picked up the phone and noticed it was Tara calling again. I’ve been ignoring her calls for the most part. We spent the entire week at the Poconos messing around and I needed my space. We weren’t official and she was starting to get attached again. How could she not tell my mind was somewhere else...or rather on someone else...the entire time I was with her?

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The rain had started to pour heavy onto the streets of The Heights by the time we loaded up the U-Haul truck downstairs and I said my goodbyes to my mother. It picked up on our way to Antoine’s place near the Washington Bridge. It was an upgrade from the violence-filled block on St. Nicholas Avenue where my mother and I had lived most of my life, but it was still in New York. I knew I still had to watch my back walking down the street.

With Antoine’s help, the three of us managed to get all of my boxes into my new room within the hour and I was back at my new place after dropping off the rental truck soon enough. I found Sophia and Antoine in deep conversation while cooking in the kitchen when I entered the apartment. The sight not only had me confused, since Sophia swore up and down she hated cooking, but it also had me amused. Antoine didn’t like any of my ex-girlfriends. I was glad to see he at least liked Sophia. Eventhough she wasn’t even close to being mine. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

“Where have you been hiding this one? I like her!” Antoine exclaimed as soon as he saw me, and they both shared a laugh as they continued their cooking.

“How did you get her to cook? She's allergic to the kitchen,” I mentioned as I pulled up a seat at the breakfast bar and watched them do their magic.

“She wanted to see how I made my special red velvet cheesecake and offered to help make the rest of dinner. Nice girl you have here, Joseph,” Antoine egged on, sending a wink towards me and I laughed, shaking my head.

“She’s not my girl,” I corrected, Sophia sending a brief glance in my direction before turning away to wash her hands in the sink. Antoine noticed the tension between us and raised an eyebrow at me. I shrugged it off, not knowing what to say.

“I’ll go freshen up in the restroom before I head out,” Sophia announced before leaving the two of us in the kitchen. Once we heard the bathroom door open and close, Antoine punched my arm.

“What the fuck was that for?” I asked angrily, ready to beat the shit out of him. He was training to be a professional boxer during his spare time, while attending culinary school and his right hook was still a killer.

“Sorry. But, you’re an idiot if you think no one can see something is going on between the two of you,” Antoine explained and I rolled my eyes. He had no idea how Sophia operated. She was just using me to feel better. Just like I was using her. As much I would like to entertain the idea of us, neither of us were in the right headspace for anything that required dealing with heavy emotions.

“I’m messing around with Tara. Sophia's with...whatever guy she’s with this month. I’m fine just being friends.” I could tell he didn’t believe me and I realized I also had a hard time believing those words myself as I reached for a joint in my pocket.

“Dinner will be ready soon. Invite her to stay if you want,” Antoine suggested as he dropped chopped pieces of chicken into the boiling pot before him. I lit up my roll and offered him some, and shrugged it off when he refused.

“You want to stay for dinner?” I asked Sophia when she returned from the bathroom, her curls pinned up in a messy bun. I frowned as I lowered my gaze down to her exposed neck, remembering seeing her with bruises scattered about on her porcelain skin. She has yet to tell me the full story on what fully happened in Houston. I suppose I had no choice but to sit in the quiet storm of questions I carried whenever I left her company.

“Seeing as prom is tonight and I’m not going, I guess spending it here won't be so bad,” she replied. Antoine sent a concerned look in my direction and I shook my head.

“Don’t worry, she’s eighteen. Perfectly legal,” I informed him and he nodded in relief. Sophia rolled her eyes and headed in my direction, taking the joint right out of my hands, putting it out and throwing it in the trash bin.

“Hey! That was expensive shit, you know,” I let her know and she shrugged, reaching for something in her purse before turning back towards me. It was a body mist, and she was now spraying it in my direction, soaking me with it.

“That stuff stinks!”

“I wasn't expecting you to stay. You hardly ever do,” I answered her and watched her smirk as I took away her body mist bottle and tucked it somewhere she couldn’t find it as we left Antoine to his cooking and headed towards my room. I was still soaked and in dire need of some dry clothes. Now to find them in between all these boxes...

"Why didn't you go to prom?" I asked as we entered my room and I closed the door behind us.

“My foster mom found my stash of happy pills and thought not going to prom would be the grand punishment. As if I’d be caught dead at a stupid dance,” Sophia scoffed, as she sat at the foot of my naked mattress. I started ripping open the boxes that were labeled with the word 'clothes' on them and looked for something fresh to wear.

“Happy pills, huh? I didn’t peg you for the type,” I replied, as I took my shirt off and sent her wink when she glanced up at my chest. I didn’t work out much, but working at construction sites around the city kept me in shape. While I relished in seeing her blush again, I thought about what her home life must be like as a foster child. Did they treat her well? Were there other children in the home? Was she getting enough attention? The brief high I was able to pull from the puffs I had taken from my now discarded joint, had brought me into an overthinking plateau. My thoughts settled with burning questions and the only person who could answer them, was the most evasive person I've ever had the pleasure of knowing.

“I go through shit too, Joseph.” The pain in her eyes was identical to my own at times. I had no idea how she managed to cope with just pills. I’d been relying on alcohol and weed for so long, I’d forgotten what it was like to feel the rawness of sadness gnawing at me every second of every day. Just imagining that kind of pain coursing through my body again made me want to grab a drink or a joint. Neither of which was within my grasp. But Sophia was.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought up my mess of a life,” she apologized, as she stood up and reached for my shaking hands once again. I shook my head, and instantly reached to touch her cheek. My thumb caressed her soft skin for as long as she let me and then she pulled away.

“You remember Halloween night? The warning you gave me?” I commented softly. She stared up at me as she tried to blink away her tears. As soon as one fell down her cheek, I wiped it away with my thumb and she closed her eyes at my touch. She was trembling now, trying to keep herself together. I pulled her into my arms, hoping my warmth would soothe her, just like her touch soothed my hands when they shook without reason.

“I’m sorry, Joseph,” she murmured into my chest, before leaning up to press her lips against mine. Instantly, without a doubt in my mind, I recognized the taste of her lips. Just like I recognized her voice, her adorable laugh, her intoxicating perfume. I knew I’d kissed those soft lips before.

Sophia had been the girl at the beach.

I wanted to pull away to question everything that happened that night, but I knew as soon as I did, she'd run from me. I kissed her back instead, pretending nothing else mattered in the world but us, knowing how incredibly complicated things were about to get.

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