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cherryswisherz · 2 months ago

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WANT vs NEED

♱CONTAINS: toxic juju, oc standin on bidness ♱NIYAHSPEAKS: yall like when i do the toxic shit so lmk if you want a pt 2

♱ ♱ ♱ ♱

"you gon let me in?"

this girl is sitting at my fuckin door- after i dont hear from her for two weeks- asking me to let her in.

for access to me. access she's had for the past two months. access that i gave her no matter how bad she treated me, no matter how much she lied, no matter how she spoke to me. she always got whatever she wanted out of me.

and i would have given in tonight, because honestly, two weeks wasnt even the longest we'd been no contact. had it not been for what went down in these past two weeks, i would have opened the door wider, let her prance her happy ass in my crib like i always did and take me places no one else ever had.

but not tonight. not any night ever again, because a week ago a video circled on the internet. a megan thee stallion audio with a girl who was excited to broadcast the arm lazily slung around her neck. they were at a party. one i'd asked her to go to with me, but she declined.

juju's face wasn't in it. her bun wasn't showing, no usc merch. but her tattoo was. on her hand, "tears dry" in the pretty cursive that i'd helped her pick out was on full display.

and i'm not stupid. i knew she was fucking other people, but it was the principle of the matter.

"no." my tone was dry and hard, like dead soil. but i felt weak.

i wanted her. i wanted to breathe her in like she was the oxygen i needed to live.

but that's the thing. i didn't need her. and i'd gotten so caught up in my own 'i can fix her' fantasy that i forgotten that that's all this was. a want.

it was deep fucking want though.

"no?" she sounded shocked, and she had a right to be. like i said, she always got her way with me.

"no." i blinked. "you gotta go" i tried to remain non-chalant, as i tried to close the door, like it standing on business didn't feel like standing on nails.

but of course, she couldn't just let me shut her out. she pressed her palm to the door, and pressed it open and i tried not to stare at the tattoo, not to track the veins from her hand down her arms.

"wait wait" she squinted at me, like she was trying to solve a puzzle, "you mad at me?"

i should have said no. that i wasn't mad, i was just done with this dance. that would have been the smart thing to do, but i've been known to be a bit dingy when it came to her. to throw my morals out the window and engage in petty disputes that i wouldn't engage in with anyone else.

"yes, i'm mad at you."

"for what?" like she couldn't fathom that i could be pissed off enough to not let her in.

"how was jaden's party, judea?" a cocked my head to the side. immediately i knew she got my message. she threw her head back with a deep sigh and covered her face with her hands, rubbing her eyes in frustration.

"if i hear about this shit one more time..." she groaned before shaking her head and lowering it. "i ain't even wanna go to the fucking party-"

"but you did." i bit out.

she stopped mid sentence and just looked at me. i watched ever muscle in face. i could see her thought process.

she could usually talk me out if my upset. and i think she could tell that this was different because i never cut her off. she knew she wasn't winning this one. not tonight at least.

and for a second, her face softened. for a tiny fraction of time, she'd looked defeated, but then she rolled her shoulders and hardened back up into the 6'2 basketball phenomenon that couldn't be bothered.

"i'm not boutta argue witchu you, jaliyah."

"then don't." i sassed, moving to close the door again, just for her palm to meet my front door again.

"liyah, cmon, bro." she groaned. she was irritated.

good.

"what, judea?" i asked, resting my head on the door sill. i kept that hard tone, and i felt it getting easier to use.

"you for real?" her laughed a little before continuing, "you're really boutta close the door on me?"

it was like she thought this was funny. my feelings were comincal to her. i was a joke, in her mind.

well shit's boutta get real hilarious.

"bye, judea."

♱

the next week, i showed out.

i prided myself on being a homebody, but that week? i was OUTSIDE.

during the day, when i wasn't in class, i was posted at whatever day party was poppin in LA.

it's true when they say the freaks com out at night, because when the sun set, my close friends was flooded with packed, dark rooms of USC students.

but there was a method to my madness.

i could function without her. i could be without her. and i was trying to prove that. to show myself, and anyone who would look that i didn't need her. all i had to do what get over this want- this yearning- for juju fucking watkins.

i was determined. focused.

i didn't talk about how every person i'd danced with didn't have strong hands like she did. didn't acknowledge the way i unintentionally searched for her in every crowd. i blocked out the majority of my own mind because it didn't feel like mine anymore. she occupied nearly part of it.

that saturday, i decided to branch out. to leave the USC campus because she was everywhere and it was too much. i guess i'd gotten sick of seeing the '12' jerseys everywhere i went.

i don't know why i did it- but i fucked with the opps. i went to a UCLA function.

juju and i had an inside joke. UCLA was the suburbs and USC was the hood. and as soon as i stepped into suburbia, i so desperately wanted to return back to the hood.

i didn't belong there. it felt so unnatural, but again.

point to prove.

so i made sure to post my bruins blue on the main story, gold jewelry adorning my locs, my ears cuffed with small gold hoops. bangles clanked in the background of terrible music.

i looked the fuck good, and i wanted everyone to see it. i wanted her to see it.

to see that i did not need her.

but in reality, i was a wallflower. no one there knew i was from USC. and no one in general knew that i was involved with UCLA's biggest hater. but i still felt like i was betraying... someone.

juju. my school. myself.

take your pick, but i knew i was wrong to be there. i felt like i was on guard, watching and waiting for someone to expose me.

then finally, it happened.

she called first, and i didn't make it outside in time to answer. for a second, i was glad that i missed her call and then i began internally kicking my own ass for foing outside to pick up in the first place.

that didn't last long though, because my phone dinged with a text.

wtf r u doing jaliyah?

my first instinct was to come clean. it was natural, the way i wanted to admit that i felt to out of place and i shouldn't have went there.

but then i remembered what i was doing this for.

im at a party why wsp

i smiled because i knew what the fuck i was doing. yes, i felt like an alien, but she didn't need to know that.

#nonchalantfinalboss

dpmo come home rn.

and just like that, it was easier to not give a fuck, because juju never failed to remind me that she had less to give than anyone i'd ever met.

she was still telling me what to do. expecting me to run back to her like i was that pitiful. and maybe i was in the past, but no more.

no <3

and that was the end of it. she didn't text again. she didn't call. it was that simple.

i stayed at the party until i couldn't take the music anymore, and by the time my lyft dropped me back at my apartment, i was ready to melt into my mattress.

on the elevator ride to my floor, i thought about why she'd given up so easily. she loathes UCLA, and she took my 'no' just like that? like it didn't really matter to her? like i didn't really matter to her?

i got my answer the second the elevator door separated. juju sat, legs crossed, hands folded between her knees, head resting on my front door.

she looked like she was meditating, kinda.

but when the elevator dinged, she popped her head up and i knew that she had no peace to share.

her eyes set on me, and that was when i knew i'd fucked up.

"you have fun?" she inquired, not moving to get up. she just craned her neck up as i stepped to her.

i knew she was pissed. she was devoid of any expression. she didn't even look mad, and that's how i knew she was mad.

but i wasn't about to let her win. she couldn't have this. she couldn't have me any-fucking- more.

"tons." i smiled, then nudged her knee with my foot. "move."

"no." she cut her eyes at me, intentionally throwing my words back at me.

she was so fucking petty, it irked the fuck out of me.

"juju, i'm not playin witchu." i kicked her a little harder, "move."

"jaliyah, i'm not playin witchu." she mocked me, "no." she smiled sweetly, like she wasn't acting an ass.

it was like magma boiled within me, giving me the strength to cock my foot back, and swing that bitch like i played professional soccer.

"get. the fuck." i kicked her with everything i had, knowing that at 5'4 it wasn't alot. this wasn't about hurting her. once again, it was the principle. "away. from. my do-"

i didn't feel it when her hand wrapped around my ankle, but i felt it when my knees touched the floor. i felt it when my skirt rode up my waist. i felt it when the pads of her fingers danced under my top.

i was silent. my tantrum was over. there was no kicking, no arguing, no nothing. just me on top of her.

she smelled so good, she looked so good, and she felt even better under me. for a moment, i let myself get lost in her eyes. i let myself find comfort in the way she was holding me. i let nostalgia take me back to when we'd first started this. when were friends with benefits and not... whatever we are now.

looking at her, i saw who we used to be before i'd convinced myself that i would be the one she'd act right for. i'd always listened to her ho tales and laugh, feeling sympathetic to the poor women she'd hoodwinked, and i told myself that i wouldn't be one of those stories. we were friends first. i was different.

not.

the present sunk in when i saw the way her jaw was so tight i could see it poking out of her cheek a little, and i found my breath.

she used to never be mad at me. she always told me it was impossible to hurt my feelings, because she would do anything i wanted. it didn't used to be like this.

i told myself that as i pushed on her chest to get up, untangling myself from her and huffing a little when i found my footing.

"just leave, ju." i whispered, but i knew she heard me because she rolled her eyes.

she threw her arms behind her head before bringing them back in front of her, like she was presenting something. "but why, though." she groaned, "what is the problem, liyah? what the fuck is the point of all this?"

the point.

"the point is ion wanna do this shit no more." i heard my own voice raising, and i didn't car that it was almost 2 in the morning.

it was saturday in LA. let's be for real... i could still hear stunna girl bumping down the street...

"it's not fuckin worth it." i finished, deciding that i didn't need her to move.

i would climb over this bitch if i had to.

i moved to unlock my door, leaning over her, but she taps my hips, pushing me back to where i was across from her.

"i'm not worth it?" she's on her feet in a second, stalking towards me until my back is to the closed elevator doors. "for real?"

i was intimidated, not scared. intimidated not by her height, but the look in her eyes. she was right there, staring down at me like i'd cursed her firstborn child. like i'd ruined her life or something.

i didn't understand how she'd managed to flip my words. how the tables had turned and somehow her feelings were the ones hurt. but that's the way it happened. she'd flipped the script, as she'd always done.

but it she wanted to play victim, that was fine.

i shoved her, "for real." and i knew when she stepped back it was her own doing, but she did it nonetheless.

i had a clear path to my door, and i took my opportunity. i found my key, and unlocked the door as fast as i could, but not fast enough because when i stepped in to my home, so did juju.

"no-" i gripped her shoulders in an attempt to manually turn her around, "get the fuck out."

it was no use, because she pushed past me and plopped on my couch like she paid bills. she man spread, folding her hands in her lap like earlier, "nah, we finna talk."

"there's nothing to talk about."

"what the hell is up witchu, bro?"

"YOU." i threw my keys. they didn't touch her, much to my dismay. "you are what's up with me. you got me fucke-" i dropped the hand i had pointing at her.

she didn't need to hear my reasoning. the fact of the matter was i was done, and she had to accept that.

"i'm not doing this." i sighed, shutting my eyes. "i said that already, and i'm not saying it again." when i opened my eyes, she still had that same dumbstruck face on, like she wasn't comprehending. "leave, judea."

"no."

"the fuck do you want from me?" i sighed.

this shit was exhausting. i wasn't even tired from the party. it was her. in what- 10 minutes?- she'd drained me of everything i had.

"i want you to talk to me." she said it like a conversation was all it took to fix this. she didn't realize that i was beyond fixing anything.

but the irony wasn't lost on me. the fact that she was begging for me to 'talk to her' like this whole thing didn't start with her not talking to me.

"i wanted you to talk to me for two weeks."

i walked past my kitchen, slowly creeping towards her with my middle and index finger up, in case she needed a visual representation. the muscles in my hand felt tight because she stressed me the fuck out, but she wanted to talk right?

she was finna hear me.

"two fucking weeks, wondering why the fuck i was on delivered and then you pop up, slung on some bitch like- like what?" my shoulders were heavy when i shrugged them, feeling the joints flex.

"like i didn't ask you to go? like you just said 'fuck jaliyah, who's constantly pouring into me. imma just ignore her, the one fucking time she wants to go out, and then go anyway, and imma rub it in her fucking face." i clapped between my words at the end because she truly had me fucked up.

i didn't wanna have this conversation because i knew that she pulled a side of me out that i didn't like, but here we are.

"so this is because i ain't take you to a damn party?" she squints like she can't grasp the concept, and she couldn't. it really just flew over that goddamn bun.

"oh my fuckin goood," my throat was scratchy when i let out a genuine shout. "no. it's not about the dumbass party, it's the principle."

she was still looking at me like she was fuckin slow, so i took a breath because i was running out of patience. when i opened my eyes again, i squatted down so i was setting on the edge of my coffee table.

"how long have we known each other, ju?" i ask, bracing my hands on my knees to ground myself.

"like three years," she shrugged, "what's tha-" i cut her off because i didn't wanna hear her stupid ass question. i already knew what it was.

what's that gotta do with it?

"three years. we been friends for three years, fuckin for what? four months?" i didn't give her time to think about it because i knew how long we'd been sleeping together.

i remember that first time, like it was my first time. we'd been eating and watching 'Love and Other Drugs." she made a joke about how the characters didn't do no strings correctly. one thing led to another and bam! i found myself doing shit i'd never done.

i think that's what really irritated me about the whole thing. she knew that i didn't just fuck for fun. she knew that i protected that side of myself. i'd expected her to cherish it, and she destroyed it instead.

"four months ago, you would have taken me to that party. you wouldn't have ignored me, because four months ago, you gave a fuck."

"whatchu talkin bout?" she spits out. she wags her finger in a circle, gesturinng to my apartment. "you think i would be here if i ain't care about you?"

"you care because i won't fuck you." i corrected.

it was the truth. she didn't care this whole time. she saw me going out all day and night, knowing i wasn't that type of person. yet, she didn't say fucking word until i was doing something she didn't like.

well, all she did was shit i didn't like. all she did was cross my boundaries, and break my rules, and i was sick of letting the shit roll off my back.

"it took me going to a fuckass UCLA for you to show up." i exclaimed, emphasizing on the ridiculousness of it all. "you get how fucked that is?"

"that's not the point-"

the point is i'm here.

heard that one before, too.

"but it is though." i nodded fast, leaving my chin in the air. "it is that fucking deep."

the situation may be small, but the principle be big as fuck, and that's what she wasn't understanding.

"i let you hit and all of a sudden you treat me like i'm somebody you laugh at inna group chat."

the group chat i started. the one where i let her mingle with my other friends because she'd complained about not having a life outside of basketball her freshman year.

we'd all talked shit about her conquests. calling them groupies. saying they should have known better. i'd encourage her, never imagining that i'd be on the other end of her whore-like actions.

"liyah, b-"

"ain't no 'liyah' NOTHING." i stood up, because i knew this wasn't going anywhere.

i knew it wasn't before it'd started, but i let her take me there and now i had to reel myself back in.

"you got it ju." i put my hand up in defeat.

because she had defeated me. she won because even after this whole thing, i still wanted her. i still wanted to keep trying to fix her, no matter how much she chipped away at me.

"you cracked. linked 'ms. unlinkable' - whatever the fuck you was trynna do that night - you did it." i clapped for dramatic effect. i wanted her to feel like a winner, even though she'd just lost.

she lost a friend. she lost good coochie. she lost a supporter. she lost it all.

"jaliyah, cmon." she kept saying that. trying to make me feel like i was being unreasonable, or i was crazy and saying my name would make me open my eyes to that that fact.

"get out my house, judea."

and finally- fucking finally - she listened. hung her head and drug her feet out the door.

when she was gone, i exhaled, like i'd been holding my breath that whole time. i slugged to my kitchen island and dropped my head against the cold marble, and i just breathed for a second.

what the fuck do i do now?

was the first thought i had, and the second was:

i don't even know.

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