Please enjoy this excerpt from my next book, In the Company of Women.
Sadira & Tyler's Affair
Sadira never meant for it to happen. She just wanted to get some air; she hadn't meant for anyone to notice her absence from Alex's going away party. Alex looked so prim in her black slacks and sleeveless lavender blouse. Her new haircut gave her face a sophisticated mature look, the look of a young lady about business and future success. Somehow, Alex became more mature, more polished, more of what Sadira wasn’t.
Had Sadira known of Alex's change and the rules of this crowd she wouldn't have picked today to abandon her tomboy look of oversized jeans and basketball jerseys. She wouldn't have worn the miniskirt that clung to her and stopped inches away from her fleshy buttocks. She wished she had chosen a jersey instead of the flame red top that crisscrossed her back, alerting everyone to her braless breasts. Had Alex just told her it wasn't the kind of party that they used to visit back in the city, Sadira wouldn't have worn any of these clothes.
The clothes or party wasn’t the real reason why Sadira was angry at her best friend. Alex said her mom is making her go to Spelmen instead of downstate at the U of I with her two best friends. Instead, Sadira was at this party feeling alone and ignored.
Where the hell is Carmen? ran through Sadira’s anxious mind.
Sadira felt out of place in the room full of BAPs and buppies. She wouldn't have felt pressured and ashamed of herself had Carmen been there. There would have been no desperate need to feel whole again, to feel like the world she knew was real and acceptable. She wouldn't have had to come outside to inhale reality, and Tyler would have never followed her.
“Are you okay?"
Sadira turned around, surprised by his voice, “Oh, hey Tyler. I was hoping no one noticed I left."
He laughed, moving closer to her, “With that shirt on I don't think you could ever go unnoticed."
The redness of her top seemed to intensify, and she folded her bare arms over her chest, causing the fabric to get caught between them, revealing her navel. Tyler watched it, wanting and anticipating more. Sadira mistook his look for shame and turned around. She saw that look too many times that night. She knew he would go back and tell Alex how ghetto her friend was.
"Your shirts nice, Sadira."
"Please don't call me that, my mother is the only one who insists on that name. Just call me Dee."
"Okay. It's a nice shirt, Dee." He emphasized her name, and she could feel his breath on her back. She took a step forward, away from the house and him.
"Yeah right, I'm sure everyone thinks so."
"Does it really matter what everyone thinks?"
"Oh please, don't give me that, Tyler. How could it not matter?"
"What do you want me to give you?” Sadira was speechless, unsure of how to answer him as he shortened the distance between them.
“You and Alex are alike. When I first met her she was freaking out, always wondering what everyone thought of her. I'll tell you like I told her, sometimes you just have to say, fuck them.”
"I'll remember that."
"See, you think I'm playing but I'm not." She looked up at him. No, he wasn't joking, and he wasn't mocking her.
"You're for real?"
He was closer, his breath teased her hair apart with his words, "Yep."
He moved behind her placing both of his firsthand her shoulders. He began a circular motion with his thumbs. The action was comforting to Sadira, and it reminded her of her father who always stood behind her mother rubbing her shoulders.
"Whatever, Tyler. You mean to tell me when people look at you like these people were looking at me all night it doesn't bother you?"
"Why would it? I don’t care what these fake people think. They can think what they want but they'll never say anything."
"How do you know that?"
"You don't know my mother, but they do. Besides, it doesn't matter because when they say something crazy to Tyler or about Tyler, I just say 'Fuck you.'"
"Right…."
"See, why do you have to be sarcastic. Just say, fuck you, Tyler.”
"I’m not afraid to cuss. But that's in the city, you know, in our neighborhood, but out here if I said that I might start a panic attack or something."
"You still haven't said it," his thumbs now on her spine.
"I don't want to. What's the big deal?"
"Repeat after me: 'Fuck," he paused, "you.'"
"You trippin'."
"You're a tough city girl, right? Just say it."
"I'm going back inside."
"Not until you say it." His hands became firmer. "I can't believe she would wear something like that." He mocked.
She laughed, "Fuck you."
"And that language, did you hear what she said? No class, no couth, she must be from the city or something."
"Them bitches think I’m from the West Side? Fuck you and them!"
Sadira pulled away forcefully and stormed back to the party. Well tried to walk away.
"And what kind of ghetto name is Sadiry? Sadeeria? That must be one of those project names like Tameeka, and Iesha."
"Fuck you.”
“Look at that hair. She must be from the west side.”
Sadira walked right up to Tyler, “FUCK YOU!” with her index finger she poked his chest with every word, “Don’t you ever say I’m from the motherfucking west side!”
"Such a nasty little mouth." He smirked.
"Fuck you." She whispered back.
"Fuck me?" he inhaled sharply, quietly mocking disgust.
"Yes," she faced him, "Fuck you and your rich ass bourgie friends."
"Fuck me?" he came closer, touching her.
"Yes, fuck you, Tyler."
He bit her shoulder then, letting his tongue taste the skin he held
between his teeth. A sound of painful pleasure escaped her mouth right
before she bit him back on his neck. She sucked the skin between her
own teeth as hard as she could, wanting to hurt him and end all the
bullshit she had been putting up with for the past hours.
She punched his shoulder and bit his collarbone, searching for blood.
Tyler lifted her easily and took her to the side of the house. She bit into his Adam's apple and wrapped her legs around him. She imagined the faces of everyone inside and her fist punched harder. He grabbed her hips as he stumbled-walked into a hiding place, where the manicured shrubs almost met the house. Tyler made them fit in that foot of space, roughly pushing Sadira into the ridges of the house. It was dark there and the trees hid the brightness of the moon and streetlights.
They became a single almost unseen shadow there and with every bite and pinch they created a dirtier and darker secret to be hidden in the panels that covered the side of the house. How easy the shirt was removed but not torn by Tyler. How convenient for the skirt to be short enough that when she dug her heels deeply into his back it rode up just above her pubic hairs. She ripped at his belt buckle while he pinched one nipple, squeezing it between his index finger and thumb, then imitated the motion with his lips on the other.
It hurt but felt redeeming when he tore into her. They grunted, and her thighs clamped against the bone of his ribs, her toes cradled by his spine. His hands guided her hipbones in harsh movements making their pelvises crash with every movement. Her hands under his shirt cut his skin and the wetness she felt between them slickened the shame she should have felt for what she was doing to her best friend's new boyfriend.
When their bodies quit their fight, and they breathed the breaths of tired runners, Sadira felt justified. It was okay to her because it was what they deserved for treating her like they had, for looking at her like she wasn't good enough for any of them and her mother, who kept rejecting her over and over again.
"Damn," Tyler said, now gentle, easing Sadira to the ground.
She removed her hands from his back and pulled the too short skirt back into place. She began to pull her shirt over her apple-sized breast when Tyler stopped her. "Wait," he bent down and planted a soft kiss on her right nipple.
Before he could do the same to the left, she smacked him hard. He looked at her, not understanding. Instead, Tyler fixed her shirt for her.
"How do I look?"
"Like you just got some."
"Tyler, for real?"
"Your ponytail is messed up and your shirt does not look like it did when you first came out here."
"Shit."
"What are you going to do?"
"What are you going to do?"
They spoke in unison, in an attempt to protect themselves.
"I told you I don't care what they think. That's how this whole thing started, remember?"
"Yeah, whatever. What are you going to tell Alex?"
"It depends."
"On what?"
"What you tell her."
Then she felt it, as he walked away. Sadira squatted and cried because she had just broke Alex, best friend’s heart.
Sadira & Tyler's Affair
Sadira never meant for it to happen. She just wanted to get some air; she hadn't meant for anyone to notice her absence from Alex's going away party. Alex looked so prim in her black slacks and sleeveless lavender blouse. Her new haircut gave her face a sophisticated mature look, the look of a young lady about business and future success. Somehow, Alex became more mature, more polished, more of what Sadira wasn’t.
Had Sadira known of Alex's change and the rules of this crowd she wouldn't have picked today to abandon her tomboy look of oversized jeans and basketball jerseys. She wouldn't have worn the miniskirt that clung to her and stopped inches away from her fleshy buttocks. She wished she had chosen a jersey instead of the flame red top that crisscrossed her back, alerting everyone to her braless breasts. Had Alex just told her it wasn't the kind of party that they used to visit back in the city, Sadira wouldn't have worn any of these clothes.
The clothes or party wasn’t the real reason why Sadira was angry at her best friend. Alex said her mom is making her go to Spelmen instead of downstate at the U of I with her two best friends. Instead, Sadira was at this party feeling alone and ignored.
Where the hell is Carmen? ran through Sadira’s anxious mind.
Sadira felt out of place in the room full of BAPs and buppies. She wouldn't have felt pressured and ashamed of herself had Carmen been there. There would have been no desperate need to feel whole again, to feel like the world she knew was real and acceptable. She wouldn't have had to come outside to inhale reality, and Tyler would have never followed her.
“Are you okay?"
Sadira turned around, surprised by his voice, “Oh, hey Tyler. I was hoping no one noticed I left."
He laughed, moving closer to her, “With that shirt on I don't think you could ever go unnoticed."
The redness of her top seemed to intensify, and she folded her bare arms over her chest, causing the fabric to get caught between them, revealing her navel. Tyler watched it, wanting and anticipating more. Sadira mistook his look for shame and turned around. She saw that look too many times that night. She knew he would go back and tell Alex how ghetto her friend was.
"Your shirts nice, Sadira."
"Please don't call me that, my mother is the only one who insists on that name. Just call me Dee."
"Okay. It's a nice shirt, Dee." He emphasized her name, and she could feel his breath on her back. She took a step forward, away from the house and him.
"Yeah right, I'm sure everyone thinks so."
"Does it really matter what everyone thinks?"
"Oh please, don't give me that, Tyler. How could it not matter?"
"What do you want me to give you?” Sadira was speechless, unsure of how to answer him as he shortened the distance between them.
“You and Alex are alike. When I first met her she was freaking out, always wondering what everyone thought of her. I'll tell you like I told her, sometimes you just have to say, fuck them.”
"I'll remember that."
"See, you think I'm playing but I'm not." She looked up at him. No, he wasn't joking, and he wasn't mocking her.
"You're for real?"
He was closer, his breath teased her hair apart with his words, "Yep."
He moved behind her placing both of his firsthand her shoulders. He began a circular motion with his thumbs. The action was comforting to Sadira, and it reminded her of her father who always stood behind her mother rubbing her shoulders.
"Whatever, Tyler. You mean to tell me when people look at you like these people were looking at me all night it doesn't bother you?"
"Why would it? I don’t care what these fake people think. They can think what they want but they'll never say anything."
"How do you know that?"
"You don't know my mother, but they do. Besides, it doesn't matter because when they say something crazy to Tyler or about Tyler, I just say 'Fuck you.'"
"Right…."
"See, why do you have to be sarcastic. Just say, fuck you, Tyler.”
"I’m not afraid to cuss. But that's in the city, you know, in our neighborhood, but out here if I said that I might start a panic attack or something."
"You still haven't said it," his thumbs now on her spine.
"I don't want to. What's the big deal?"
"Repeat after me: 'Fuck," he paused, "you.'"
"You trippin'."
"You're a tough city girl, right? Just say it."
"I'm going back inside."
"Not until you say it." His hands became firmer. "I can't believe she would wear something like that." He mocked.
She laughed, "Fuck you."
"And that language, did you hear what she said? No class, no couth, she must be from the city or something."
"Them bitches think I’m from the West Side? Fuck you and them!"
Sadira pulled away forcefully and stormed back to the party. Well tried to walk away.
"And what kind of ghetto name is Sadiry? Sadeeria? That must be one of those project names like Tameeka, and Iesha."
"Fuck you.”
“Look at that hair. She must be from the west side.”
Sadira walked right up to Tyler, “FUCK YOU!” with her index finger she poked his chest with every word, “Don’t you ever say I’m from the motherfucking west side!”
"Such a nasty little mouth." He smirked.
"Fuck you." She whispered back.
"Fuck me?" he inhaled sharply, quietly mocking disgust.
"Yes," she faced him, "Fuck you and your rich ass bourgie friends."
"Fuck me?" he came closer, touching her.
"Yes, fuck you, Tyler."
He bit her shoulder then, letting his tongue taste the skin he held
between his teeth. A sound of painful pleasure escaped her mouth right
before she bit him back on his neck. She sucked the skin between her
own teeth as hard as she could, wanting to hurt him and end all the
bullshit she had been putting up with for the past hours.
She punched his shoulder and bit his collarbone, searching for blood.
Tyler lifted her easily and took her to the side of the house. She bit into his Adam's apple and wrapped her legs around him. She imagined the faces of everyone inside and her fist punched harder. He grabbed her hips as he stumbled-walked into a hiding place, where the manicured shrubs almost met the house. Tyler made them fit in that foot of space, roughly pushing Sadira into the ridges of the house. It was dark there and the trees hid the brightness of the moon and streetlights.
They became a single almost unseen shadow there and with every bite and pinch they created a dirtier and darker secret to be hidden in the panels that covered the side of the house. How easy the shirt was removed but not torn by Tyler. How convenient for the skirt to be short enough that when she dug her heels deeply into his back it rode up just above her pubic hairs. She ripped at his belt buckle while he pinched one nipple, squeezing it between his index finger and thumb, then imitated the motion with his lips on the other.
It hurt but felt redeeming when he tore into her. They grunted, and her thighs clamped against the bone of his ribs, her toes cradled by his spine. His hands guided her hipbones in harsh movements making their pelvises crash with every movement. Her hands under his shirt cut his skin and the wetness she felt between them slickened the shame she should have felt for what she was doing to her best friend's new boyfriend.
When their bodies quit their fight, and they breathed the breaths of tired runners, Sadira felt justified. It was okay to her because it was what they deserved for treating her like they had, for looking at her like she wasn't good enough for any of them and her mother, who kept rejecting her over and over again.
"Damn," Tyler said, now gentle, easing Sadira to the ground.
She removed her hands from his back and pulled the too short skirt back into place. She began to pull her shirt over her apple-sized breast when Tyler stopped her. "Wait," he bent down and planted a soft kiss on her right nipple.
Before he could do the same to the left, she smacked him hard. He looked at her, not understanding. Instead, Tyler fixed her shirt for her.
"How do I look?"
"Like you just got some."
"Tyler, for real?"
"Your ponytail is messed up and your shirt does not look like it did when you first came out here."
"Shit."
"What are you going to do?"
"What are you going to do?"
They spoke in unison, in an attempt to protect themselves.
"I told you I don't care what they think. That's how this whole thing started, remember?"
"Yeah, whatever. What are you going to tell Alex?"
"It depends."
"On what?"
"What you tell her."
Then she felt it, as he walked away. Sadira squatted and cried because she had just broke Alex, best friend’s heart.