Page 11 of When I Thug You Like That

“Not today,” I said out loud, picking up my phone without opening it and standing from the desk.

It vibrated once more in my hand and then again a second later. Letting out a frustrated breath, I typed my password in to unlock the screen and scrolled to her text thread.

LyingAssBackpacker: You done taking your time yet?

LyingAssBackpacker: Jai’ana.

LyingAssBackpacker: Ion know why you actin’ like you don’t see my messages.

I rolled my eyes at the last message because Morgan was delusional as fuck if she thought me not responding was an act. I was very serious. For a year, I had been the woman of another woman. Never thought I’d say that, but there was a first time for everything. And if I was being real, dating her started out as me trying something different. Well, really needing something different. The niggas had nigged for the last time with me, and I was over wasting my precious time. It had started to feel like the finer and more established the man, the more problems they came with.

Then, Morgan came along and showed me that niggas came in all genders. She was beautiful in a way that could go either direction depending on the day, pretty enough for you to notice her feminine features and handsome enough to make you understand why women would do a double take. Morgan had a copper skin tone, with sneaky yet soft eyes, a slender nose, big lips, and rocked shoulder length locs. As a professional barber, she kept a fresh cut. The girl could dress her ass off, loved to be dripped out, and kept her confidence on a thousand.

Morgan moved through rooms like she was that bitch and that nigga. I liked that. I had a personality that filled rooms, and I liked my partner to match that energy. More than that, I loved a partner who wasn’t afraid to go in their pockets. If we went somewhere, Morgan paid. If I mentioned something I liked, she beat me to buying it. She always wanted to make sure I was straight, and I had no problem letting her.

And while that was cool, what I didn’t like about Morgan was that she was a liar and sneaky. She was good for a random disappearing act, and her stories never completely lined up. I had never been the one to chase, whether it be a male or female. I also wasn’t snooping through phones or asking questions I already knew the answers to. I just took notes of behavior, gave room for change, and moved accordingly. I offered her that, and she fucked it up the moment I found out she’d been cheating on me with her hair stylist.

What made it worst was that this woman wasn’t someone random. She’d shared space with me on plenty occasions. We’d exchanged numbers, followed each other on socials, and had even gone out a few times. What I didn’t learn until later was the history they shared beyond beeswax, loc tools, and parting combs, history Morgan conveniently forgot to mention. So, while I was being the friendly girlfriend who was always welcoming, these hoes were playing in my face, knowing they had been a thing prior to me even coming in the picture.

Apparently, they took a step back from whatever they had going on once Morgan and I became serious, but one drunk night and a minute into our relationship, they decided to pick up where they left off. And instead of just leaving me alone, Morgan decided she wanted to have her cake and eat it too. It was one thing to cheat but have me in a bitch face looking dumb? Fuck no. I wasn’t Tebo the clown. As soon as I confirmed it, I confronted her. This girl went from offended, to denial, to apologetic all in the span of a ten-minute conversation. I knew then that if I didn’t leave at that moment, we were gonna get to scrapping in the middle of her living room.

The phone vibrated again, and I sighed, unlocking it.

LyingAssBackpacker: I gave you three months of space. I just wanna have a conversation. Can I pull up later?

I chuckled even though there was nothing funny about her trying to ease her happy ass over to my apartment. Audacity had always been one of her strongest qualities. Hitting the text window, I sent her a message back.

Me: You can lie via text, Morgan. You don’t need to come to my house to do that. There’s really nothing to talk about forreal. I said all that I had to say three months ago when I told you it was OVER.

I made sure to capitalize the word over so that she was very clear on where I stood then and where I stood now.

LyingAssBackpacker: You really saying fuck a whole year of us building over a fling? I told you that shit with Arian was a mistake. And I apologized.

Her response had all the makings of a lying ass nigga comeback.

Me: Morgan, your after the fact apology don’t hold no weight with me. Quite frankly, I have no desire to look you in your face while you try to rationalize why you’ve lied, cheated, and played on my time. I’m good, love. Be blessed.

I sent the last text through and proceeded to block her number like I should have three months back. Sliding my phone into my pocket, I headed back out to the people who actually deserved my time. That lying ass backpacker wasn’t getting another minute of it.

CHAPTER 3

It Takes A Village

JAMISON

Feeling good about the tour at Abilities First and confident about my decision to enroll Baby Jay, I headed back to my parents’ house. I’d barely made it two blocks from the school when my phone rang through the car’s speakers. It was my favorite baby mama, Kyesha, calling. I connected the call on the third ring.

“What’s good, Esha?”

“You remember I’m picking Justin up from school today and keeping him this weekend?” Her voice came through clear, but it sounded like she was trying to catch her breath.

“A hello ain’t never hurt nobody, Esh.”

“Hello, Jamison. You remember I’m picking Just up from school today, right?”

I laughed and quickly glanced in the rearview mirror to check on Baby Jay. He was in his own world with his headphones on and his iPad propped up on his lap.

“Hello?” she repeated.