Page 23 of Stand on That

She usually became extremely sensitive and emotional a few days before her period started. The first day of her cycle, she was mean as fuck. A nigga breathing annoyed her. Vani was dealing with a surge of certain hormones and the decrease of others. I was smart enough to know that she would be a lil’ emotional and maybe even mean. Grabbing her hand, I pulled her toward me until she was straddling me.

“If it’s not you, I don’t want it. I love you,” I confessed while staring into her eyes. I had been feeling it for a minute, and I was finally okay with saying it out loud.

A bashful grin inched across Vani’s face. “You do?” I nodded. “I love you too.”

Leaning in so we were chest to chest, she kissed my lips. I intertwined my fingers with hers, brought our hands to my mouth, and kissed the back of hers. “Shit done got real. I’m not gon’ play ‘bout you. Just make sure if I have to do some foul shit to a nigga that it’s not your fault.” My tone was serious because I was serious.

I hadn’t been in love as a grown man, and the shit had me nervous. About those that I loved, I could turn into a different kind of beast.

“If you have to do some foul shit to anybody, it won’t have a damn thing to do with me. I don’t engage in BS. I don’t want any parts of it for myself or you.”

Vani didn’t really seem like the type that would try and use another man to make me jealous. And even though she liked to go out and have fun, she wasn’t the type that would put herself out there in a way that it would make it easy for someone to take advantage of her. I always promised myself that I’d never let a nigga trick me off the streets but sometimes, that was easier said than done. Niggas would do shit that almost left you with no option but to kill their ignorant asses.

“You think in two years you’ll be ready to give me a baby?”

Vani’s brows hiked. “Oh, you good and high, huh?”

With a laugh, I kissed the back of her hand again. “In two years, I’ll be twenty-six, and you’ll be twenty-three. I think that’s a good age for our first kid.”

“Um, we’ll see.”

“Why we’ll see?” my ego was almost bruised because the average female would be happy to have my baby. Shit, if I asked Bree that question, she probably would have done a backflip.

“Yeah. It has nothing to do with you as a person. I love you. And I’d love to have my first child with you. But a lot can happen in two years. Especially with the life you live.” I could see the fear in Vani’s eyes. She never really voiced how she really felt about my lifestyle, but I knew she worried. Shit, I worried my damn self.

I had told her about wanting to possibly start college, and she was excited like a muhfucka. I knew Vani didn’t want me to end up dead or in jail. Even if my income decreased, I knew she’d still love me the same. I had to start planning for the future because being a drug dealer didn’t come with a retirement plan. The end date was also unpredictable. There were many factors that could aid in the end of a dope boy’s career, and it was rarely because he walked away by choice.

I had seen more money in the past seven years than some men three times my age had seen in their entire lives. So, in my opinion, the risk was worth it. I just had to decide how long I was willing to keep taking that risk.

“Ah hell. Which one called you? Ma or dad?” my brother asked me the next day when I showed up at school to pick him up from football practice.

“Why you think one of them had to call me?” I pushed off my car. “You act like I don’t come check on you from time to time.”

Kyle sucked his teeth. “Yeah, you do, but I still feel like one of them called you, and I’m about to get the fourth lecture of the day. I got one from ma, dad, and coach. Before the night ends, I’m sure I’m going to hear one from grandpa too.”

“Well damn what you done did to have so many people on your ass?” I feigned ignorance as I got inside the car.

Kyle followed suit, and he just kept sighing and shaking his head. His biology teacher had reached out to my parents with concerns that Kyle was hanging around the wrong crowd, and it was distracting him. She said he went from all A’s to missing assignments and coming to class high.

At one point, my brother was like the Golden Child. He made great grades, rarely got in trouble, and he was a beast on that football field. He was going places, and he made my parents feel like they’d done a good job. He had come too far to start messing up now. My parents weren’t poor, but Kyle getting a full ride to college wasn’t something they wanted him to mess up. My parents didn’t even care if he didn’t make it to the NFL. They wanted him to have something to fall back on in case that didn’t work.

“I know Ms. Zoey was talking shit about me hanging out with Rashad and Lil’ Ken, but they can’t make me do anything I don’t want to do. I be tired as hell after practice. Coach has me carrying the entire team on my back. I forgot two assignments. That doesn’t have anything to do with my friends.”

Pressing the button to start my car, I glanced over at Kyle. “If you want something slow and green get you a turtle. That shit sounds good, but I’m not buying it. I’m a street nigga. Azarius is a street nigga, and I know he’d die for me. Just because your friends might have bad reputations doesn’t mean they’re terrible people but at the moment, y’all don’t have the same goals. Making it this far just to start fucking up now is crazy work brudda. You can’t go out like that.”

“I like football but got damn,” he groaned. “The last few years have been stressful. It’s really not even fun anymore.”

“The moment you decided you wanted to be good enough to make it to the NFL you’re damn right it became stressful. You can’t make it to the NFL treating football like a hobby. You have to live, eat, and breathe that shit. You have to be willing to give it your all and even that isn’t enough. You have to have tunnel vision and lock in. That doesn’t leave much room for hanging out with knuckleheads. You gotta figure out what you want and get serious about it.”

“Says the man that wants to be a sports’ agent but won’t enroll in school. If I make it to the NFL boom, I’m your first client.”

“And how you gon’ make it to the NFL if you can’t even manage doing your schoolwork and practicing? No one is offering me a scholarship. I have to pay for that shit out of pocket. I have to have my ducks in a row before I enroll.”

“Sounds like an excuse to me,” Kyle gave me a knowing look.

There wasn’t even anything I could say because he was right. “Okay smart ass. I’ll start next year when you start. We start at the same time and end at the same time.”

“Bet,” he grinned.