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getitoverwith-ff · 8 years ago

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part time lover x 2

2 || take care

“Are we cooking lunch, ordering food, or going out before we hit the road?” Lita asks as she puts the finishing touches on packing Demetria’s bag, and I shrug.

I could go for food, but the thing about going with a toddler is kind of tricky. All of the three choices are sensible, but, will she even eat anything? We shared a tub of yogurt a little while ago, and she ate all of her breakfast… she might not even be hungry.

But if she is, is it worth going out for? Will she get distracted and want to talk more than she wants to pay attention to the food in front of her? Will she want something, and then, when me and Lita food comes, ignore her food in order to eat off of our plates like she always does? As a matter of fact, we always end up sharing anyway. Even if I know her order and Lita’s order by heart, they always end up on my plate.

I know my daughter though. At the end of the day, she probably doesn’t want to go anywhere. She never really does on the last day we have to spend together. She tends to just be up under me, and doesn’t want to leave my side, or Lita’s, really. We just huddle, hover, and be there.

It can’t hurt to ask though.

Nine times out of ten though, if we ask her, we’ll either be eating chicken nuggets, or Papa Diablo’s pizza. Which is fine, even if Daddy wants Chinese and Mama won’t care because she’ll eat anything, really.

“I wanted to go get some Chinese, but… what you think, Meme? What are we eating?” I ask as I secure the last purple barrette onto the end of the second of the two french braids I put in her hair. I’m always on daddy duty with no complaints.

“You done, Daddy? I wanna see,” I pass her the Barbie themed mirror and she smiles at her reflection.

“What’s for lunch, Meme?”

She shrugs softly just like I do, but then turns around and goes, “Daddy, I want pizza.”

I’m not surprised. I watch Lita laugh before going back into the stack of circulars on the living room table to find the Papa Diablo’s circular.

“Pizza it is then. Go make sure your bed is fixed and all of your toys you’re taking with you are packed up, please.” She hops down from the stool and goes back into the bedroom we designated as hers for when she’s out here, and I watch Lita motion for me to come over as I clear the kitchen island counter of hair accessories.

“You goin’ to this?” She motions towards a flyer for a R&B Karaoke night that Luke is hosting tonight, and I almost forgot about it.

“Yeah, I almost forgot. I gotta figure out what I’m wearing,” I sit next to her, and she puts her foot in my lap. I make my fingers spiderwalk up her long, smooth legs and ignore the fact that she’s set to leave in a couple of hours.

“Don’t wear that leather vest and them boots either, you ain’t a member of Jodeci.” Lita teased, and I laughed.

“That was last time, damn. I dunno. Might just channel my inner Ronnie Devoe and go as Bel Biv Devoe,” I muse, and Lita laughs.

“Kenny gon’ be Mike Bivins again?” She asks, which immediately causes me to bust out into laughter. Kenny got one role as Michael Bivins -- did damned good in it, and it took him months to break character. I know he wouldn’t mind doing it again.

“You know he’ll be hype to put that damned character back into use. Fuck yeah. We’re doing it. I gotta call Max, he’s gonna be our Ralph. I’ma make sure you get the videos and pictures too.” I smile, hype about it as I pull my phone out of my pocket and begin correlating the plans, while she smiles at me and starts to complain softly about missing everything, which makes me sit my phone down.

“You don’t have to. You still haven’t figured out anything?” I ask, as she shrugs her shoulders.

The plan was simple, at first. She would graduate with her associate’s degree, transfer to USC, and when we graduated, we’d be married. Very simple, but, we don’t seem to go on the path of conventional milestones.

We had a lot of turbulent drama, we had a kid, and we fell apart… only to quickly make sure we would always stay true to each other, even when we couldn’t fully have each other. So, the desire to get back with each other started to become more and more important, but, the ease of the situation was long gone.

Somewhere along the line that spiraled into, okay, but where’s Demetria’s going to go to school? Where are we going to live? Off-campus living and commuting will make it a little harder to get around with a kid. We need to find her a good daycare, too… and a bunch of other things that made sense. She was worried, but for good reason, and all of her worries put a pause into progressing something I initially assumed to be hella easy, but it turned out to be anything but.

“I know we can find a nice apartment easily, but it’s the other factors that we need to finalize. Give me until Thanksgiving. I’ll have something then,” She insists, and I purse my lps together. It’s not that far off, but shittt….

Now, I’m going to be sitting up, rushing that time to get here even more.

“Shit, If we could stay here that would be nice, but it’s too ducked off. You're right though, we’ll figure something out. So.. does that mean you and Meme are coming up here for Thanksgiving?” I ask, those plans not really being confirmed either.

I had Thanksgiving last year, and we shared Christmas. I get Demetria for Winter Break this year, and Thanksgiving is always either here or there, a few times, both places. Demetria loves the scenery of the car rides back and forth, and now, with my job at Gold’s Gym and a couple of coaching gigs, I definitely make enough to keep my tank filled to make the trip.

“Yeah, I think we will. I wanna see how Monica’s gonna do in the kitchen anyway,” She says, and I immediately wince.

“Oooh shit. I didn’t even think about that. Mo can’t cook.” I laughed more at Monica’s impending misfortune than anything if she really showed her face.

Internally, I also winced because fuuuuuuck. For a woman who really tried her damnest to try and fit in, I knew if my Momma and lil’ sister didn’t give her hell immediately, my cousins and aunties would, and that would be before Lita even got up to cook.

It’s a production in my family when it comes to holidays, and I know damned well Mo ain’t ready. I didn’t even think about how much of a setup it sounded like it was shaping up to be. Oh well. Lita starts talking about how it’s going to be a hot ass mess, like she can read my mind.

I get distracted in the drama that is Bad Girls Club on the screen, and kinda tune her out, until she grabs my face, and pulls it back towards her.

“You better quit zoning out on me,” She demands, and I smile.

I just don’t wanna amp her up. If Monica does come, I know it’s going to be a shit storm. And I don’t have to think too hard to know that she’s definitely going to make sure nothing stands in the way of her coming.

“I’m not, I’m also sitting here thinking about how it’s gonna end up..” I start, and she shakes her head at me.

“She was a damned good mother, she was my professor, she was… a murderer,” My head whips towards the TV in slow motion as I hear a familiar voice, and look at the face of death staring back at me as a mugshot.

I freeze.

For a minute, everything feels like is happening in slow motion.

“Anya Jones was just your average, hard working mother who would do anything to make sure her teenage daughters were able to live the best life possible. But, a hidden past life ripped everything Anya knew away from her, including her daughter and husband, who was left for dead…” The promo for the next episode of Snapped starts to play, and I push my tongue into my cheek as Lita quickly starts to dig into the couch for the remote.

“Shit.”

“I didn’t think it would have the promos up for this so soon,” I quietly admitted as Lita pressed her lips together, and looked over at me.

“This is the first time I’ve seen them on TV, actually. Do you wanna-”

“You don’t have to stop watching what you’re watching boo. It’s cool.” I tell her, and she looks a little defeated before she nods, and then switches positions so she can lean her head on my chest.

It’s quiet now, and the mood’s kinda fucked up...

We don’t talk about Anya Jones. We just don’t, because, there’s not going to be anything good to say about her. Lita’s Mom is the she who must not be named in our shared households. Five years ago, she started down the path that would ruin not only the lives of her two daughters, and her husband, but would ripple into my life, my parents’ life, and the life of my then unborn daughter as well.

I can tell you how it all got kicked off, but I can’t tell you what happened following the climax. At least, not in my own words. It’s been four years since I lost a chunk of my short term memories. It’s been four years since what everyone just brushes off as the most traumatic event of my life, but… I’m here.

The events that went down four years ago really changed everything I knew to make sense to me. It’s been four years since Lita left to go to New Mexico, a place where I thought she’d never return from. It’s been four long years since my then girlfriend disappeared in the middle of our sophomore year, after a life changing situation for the both of us.

But, that’s behind us now.

I’m just glad I’m still here. In the process of things falling apart, there was chaos, there was a lot of fighting, and there was murder and attempted murder as well. I almost died in a car accident that caused a head injury for me, and Lita’s Dad damned near lost the usage of his legs. That I do remember. Anything immediately after that, it’s like I’ve mentally blocked out the events that happened from my memory. I ended up with memory loss brought on by psychological trauma, which gave me a case of short-term amnesia, among other things.

But, I do remember that that accident was worth getting into. We needed to get to the hospital. I remember that. I just didn’t think we would end up in the hospital, because Anya was trying to kill not just her husband, but me too.

On the night Demetria was born, she almost lost her Daddy and her Papi, as she calls him, but I’m glad the both of us survived. I get pissed off every time I’m reminded about how I missed the birth of my first born child. It was almost a fair trade; my life for my daughter’s, but in the end, I just ended up sacrificing a large majority of my memories instead.

I remember bits and pieces of what happened that prior to and following month, but not everything. I’m not too out of sync when it comes to someone else telling me their version of what happened, but who knows which one is really the truth?

All I know for a fact is these three things: Lita’s going to be back for good after the semester ends, I’m here for a reason, and soon, I’ll feel as complete as I used to, once I figure out everything that really happened to me.

For a long time, the woman sitting next to me, talking to our daughter about customizing the Pizza we’re gonna have for lunch, was unreachable to me. There’s a lot of twists and turns in our story together, with bits and pieces still being unpacked to this very damned day. The most constant part of every version of the narrative pins her mama as the big bad in all of this -- that I know is factual without anyone having to back that up.

I haven’t seen Anya Jones since I googled her name and had the story confirmed that was told to me about how she had been caught up in a scandal, ran away from Los Angeles with her oldest daughter and her then unknowingly pregnant teenage daughter in tow, and how she tried to kill me and her husband when we set out to go and rescue her.

Dealing with Lita has been the reason for what I can say was definitely the most traumatic, most straight out of a lifetime movie moment I’ve had in my entire life. And being able to barely remember an accurate account that wasn’t written by a journalist, covered and dissected on someone’s blog, featured on an episode of Snapped that I declined to participate in, or churned through a rumor mill… fucking kills me.

To this day, yes, I have trust issues.

I only trust in the woman sitting next to me, and less people that I can count on my two hands put together. I’m paranoid sometimes. I have separation anxiety when it comes to her, but I’ve gotten a handle on that. I’ve learned how not to let the distance overwhelm me. I have trauma induced PTSD -- there’s a laundry list of things wrong with Demetri, but that’s why I need my anchors, and I know she’s the heaviest one I have on my side. It’s been four years and I don’t know what to believe -- anyone could be lying to me, really -- but with her here by my side, I know there’s less of a chance of that happening to me.

That’s why I know I need to do whatever I need to do in order to make sure she stays. I could watch the episode when it premieres, and I will. I want to. I just didn’t realize it was this close to airing, because I remember them shooting it; I remember keeping Demetria while Lita and her Dad did the recorded portions for it around this time last year. I declined to take a part in it.

But, I’m going to watch it. I know it’ll help, and my therapist can agree that it will, if it doesn’t get too damned triggering in the wrong kind of ways. I’m hoping it will. I’m hoping that means I’ll be one step closer to being able to really answer, What Happened To You?

I wish I knew everything. It feels more like I’m imagining a story that someone told me - which very well may be the case. But, I know I don’t want to spend the summer obsessing over it.

I have to start small though. I’m one step closer to having Lita and my baby girl back, and that’s enough, for now…

I just don’t know how long it’s going to last.

“Stop crying,” I instruct Demetria for the fifth time in the last couple of hours. She just woke up from a nap, and even though she’s eating cold pizza before she climbs into her seat in the back of Lita’s Jeep, there are tears streaming down her face.

“You’re gonna see me again for Thanksgiving and Christmas this year,” I remind her as she smiles softly and I wipe her face. She smells like pepperoni and baby, and I don’t want to let her go, but I have to.

“I love you Daddy,” She squeezes the fuck out of my neck, and I hold her just as tightly. I smile as I put her into her booster seat and kiss the top of her head.

“I love you too, Meme.” I close the door, and round around the back to close the cargo door.

Lita’s still standing on the outside, staring at me. I stretch my hands out for her to fill the space and she laughs and slowly approaches me to fill the space. I slide my hands down her back and grip her ass as I hold her close to me, and kiss the top of her head, then her cheeks on both sides, and then her lips.

“I’ma be expecting a call six hours in,” I wrap my arms around her back, and she laughs into my neck.

“I’ma be glad when you won’t have to anymore. I’ve been talking to Juliani, trying to come up with a plan. I’ll keep you posted…” She softly says as I mumble soft sounds of agreement, but I don’t want to let her go, either.

“Please behave yourself at this party tonight,” She starts, and I exhale softly. “It won’t be long before we’re together again, but I’m not trying to wake up to no surprises..” Lita sternly insists, and I laugh into the mess of curls on top of her head as she hugs me a little tighter.

“One of us has to let the other go, Meech.” She utters, and I scoff softly. This is the hardest part.

“Okay,” I hear her, but I don’t. She lets me go after another long kiss, and then a long exhale.

“I love you,” She thumps me in the forehead and I laugh, and I know she’s trying to break the tension that always comes with a goodbye, and I appreciate her for it.

“I love you too, ya’ll be safe. Call me.” I instruct as she nods and it takes a minute before she starts up and pulls off, blasting Q’s latest as she heads out.

It takes me a couple of minutes before walking back to my own car, and just sitting in it. I get a little paranoid about driving. I have to check the backseat a couple of times, check to make sure there’s nothing tracking my path, or nothing out of the ordinary.

Once I’m satisfied, I get into the car just to sit in it, really.

It doesn’t take long for my phone to start ringing though, and with it being off of Do Not Disturb, I debate answering the Facetime call from Monica. I’ve missed six calls and have seven ‘call me’ texts that seem to have sobered up in comparison to how she filled my damned inbox last night. She’s not going off of Do Not Disturb, though.

Monica does the most to get my attention when we’re in off mode, and I hate it. She comments on all of my instagram photos. Sends me posts on Facebook Messenger, or writes on my wall -- but she can’t now, because she’s been blocked for a good two months now. I just haven’t cared enough to block her anywhere else just yet. She tweets me, filling my mentions with emoji eyes, or she favorites random tweets of mines, or just DMs me with pointless shit.

I see all of it, and ignore it.

It’s not going to change anything though. It’s fucking annoying, but even though I’m just sitting here, I won’t call her, which I know would get her to stop. She doesn’t want to really hear about my weekend. She doesn’t want me to twist the knife deeper into her side, knowing whatever I say about Lita and I will immediately make her annoyed and aggravated due to jealousy and whatever the fuck’s wrong with her.

And, thankfully, or really, as we get closer and closer to Thanksgiving, unfortunately for her, she doesn’t know about Demetria, and I know that will kill her. More and more, I’m not really wanting to use that kind of information to put a true end to Monica’s persistent attempts to get all of me, but… I’m thinking about it. Trying to wean her off of me? Harder than I thought.

She’ll be home to annoy me soon, so, instead of hitting her up and possibly falling right into a trap, I opt to head home, and hope she hasn’t made it back yet.

It takes roughly twenty seven minutes in LA traffic to get home. I pull up to the student housing building known as The Trojan Lofts and try my hardest to see if Monica’s windows are open and her curtains are drawn back. I can see her windows when I drive into the parking lot, and thankfully for me, they’re dropped and the windows are closed, meaning, she’s not there....

Hopefully.

I can only cross my fingers and brace myself for when she confronts me, because I know it’s going to be a motherfucker. I’m not really in the mood to argue over dumb shit either, so, whatever she’s constantly hitting me up about, I’d rather not really deal with it unless it’s quick and painless.

Making my way towards the building, I press my lips together as I see other people in the midst of departing and coming back home, anxious to get midterms over with so they could have another tiny break of freedom before finals pop up. I definitely understand the rush. I smile at a few faces, and get asked about my weekend as I get my mail from the designated box. I bite down on my bottom lip as my phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out and see who it is, and exhale softly, knowing it’s not Lita, but someone just as familiar.

Kierra Rogers: How as the weekend with the wife and kid?

I smile as I look around the lobby, and spot her sitting in the sitting area designated for guests. Instead of going up, I walk in her direction and sit across from her, and accept the hug she gives me. When we pull apart, her eyebrow is up, and I’m smiling.

“It was okay, but, I’m ready for a major distraction tonight.” I respond as I slide my phone back in my pocket, and she smiles.

Kierra’s special to me. Whereas everyone knows Lita has my heart, mind, body, and soul, sometimes, we bump heads, we spiral out, and we go on breaks. I still get my daughter, I still love her mother, and, I understand the frustration of being twelve hours apart and wanting other things to keep us busy -- I don’t fault her for that. There have been others for her, and there have been others for me, but, I’ve always been open and honest with them, and with Lita about them, and I never allow myself to fall in love, or be put in a position to where I can’t walk away.

I didn’t think the separation was going to get us like it did, but in the beginning, it was hard as hell to figure out a medium. We were still in High School after the dust settled, and, until senior year, I wasn’t driving anymore. We attempted the long distance thing, but, it was just too much for the two of us, with so many other issues at the time to stick it out.

Honestly, it got so bad at one point that Lita had another boyfriend, and me, well… I had Kierra, who I met during my junior year of High School. As high school came to an end and I went off to college, Kierra was a student at USC as well, friends first, before anything else. While me and Lita were still trying to figure out the best methods to stay together, and Kierra found the occasional boyfriend, I also managed to get my hoe phase out of my system. But, out of the four girls that I really fucked with heavily, Kierra was the most permanent fixture.

“Monica’s been looking for you,” She smirks a little, making the corners of her lips rise knowingly as I wedge my tongue in my cheek.

“She’s back already?” I ask, and Kierra shakes her head.

“Nah, but she’s been texting me in the group chat, being fucking annoying about you not going to Sacramento with her and everyone else.” Kierra rolled her eyes as she slid her phone my way, and I clucked my tongue at Monica’s almost frantic inquiries about wanting to talk to me when she got home but not knowing what to say or how to say it, and, it being easier to do if I came with them.

“I didn’t make any promises to go to Sacramento though,” I tell Kierra, who lives across the hall from me, and also opted out of the road trip to Sacramento with Monica, our other roommate Noelle, my other best friends, Queenie and Jacob, to shoot episodes of Queenie’s online web series.

“She thinks you should have. What the fuck did you do now?” Kierra questions, and I shrug. Honestly, you never really know with Mo’s ass, so, I guess I’ll figure it out when she comes back.

“Ain’t no tellin’ with her, and you and I both know this. But, enough about that, you coming to The Den tonight, right?” I ask, and Kierra smiles.

“Me and Erykah are gonna be Sherane and Sydney,” She says, and I groan softly.

“How long has Erykah been back, and why hasn’t she called me?” I ask, curious about Kierra’s best friend, and sometimes, a third party in our situationship.

“Not long, and, I don’t know. I mean, I do know, she has a girlfriend now, so... looks like you won’t be fucking that,” Kierra says, and I laugh softly as I watch the lobby begin to fill with familiar faces that I know are following Quentin, another one of my best friends, home to kick off the party tonight.

“Yeah, well, neither will you. But yo, I’m about to catch up with Q… come pregame with us before we go, alright? Gimme some love,” I pick Kierra up from her seat as I hug her, and grip her ass in my palms. She pushes me upside the head and promises that she will, and that’s all I need to get out of the slump.

It’s loud in the lobby now. Quentin James is home and has brought a couple of familiar faces with him, who hug and smile at me as I dap him up, and stare back out of the wide windows that show the parking lot.

“They ain’t back yet,” He laughs, and I twist my mouth up. “I know you’re looking for Mo’s crazy ass, but she ain’t out there. I did, however, scoop Jayde up for you…”

His head motions back towards the door and the girls carrying overnight bags as they follow us towards the elevator. I’m quiet, while Q smiles like he’s offering me a million dollar prize, and I exhale softly as my dick twitches when Jayde hugs me. I’m thankful for the distraction, for real.

This is honestly the only way I know I won’t spend all night constantly ignoring everyone around me with my head stuck in the screen of my phone, and he knows that too. Lita knows it too, and, I know he’s asked for permission for a setup of this magnitude just to keep her in the loop too. There was a time in which she uses to wake up to a lot of surprises all over social media, but we’re better than that now.

I still cluck my tongue when I get a text from her, and she questions:

LOML: Jayde, Kierra, and Erykah? Lmfao. And Mo too? You better wake up in your bed and not anyone else’s, I’m not fucking playing with you…

Just tryna get some head and head don’t count right?

LOML: Better be just that… I’m about to bring back the group chat, on that note.

I wince a little. It’s been a while since anyone’s responded in the group chat Lita started after the whole, “I’m up here to meet all your side chicks,” pop up visit from freshman year. I’m all for peaceful, meet in the middle, mediums until she comes home to me for good, but she’s not for the shit tonight, and I wonder what she knows that I don’t.

As we get off the elevator, my phone buzzes, and I notice Jayde look down at hers, and then meet my eyes. I shrug my shoulder gently as we walk into the unit, and everyone immediately goes into getting comfortable and leaving me and Q to linger around the door, just watching.

“This gon’ be a long, strokeless night.” I groan as Q laughs and shakes his head.

“You know your limits, Meech. Just don’t have Lita ready to hop on I-40 to come and beat your ass tonight.” Quentin winked at me, and I pushed him in the chest.

“When you gon’ stop giving me shit about that? That was one time,” I stress as he laughs.

“And with the way tonight is set up… it might be a second one. You better go pray,” Q insists as Jayde pulls off her hoodie, and we both shake our head in appreciation of her frame.

“‘Cause you’re damned sure gonna need it…”

#keith powers ff #keith powers #keith powers fanfic #chapters #luke james #woody mcclain

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getitoverwith-ff · 8 years ago

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ACT 1: part time lover x 1

yo yo yo. this is split into acts, so to speak. this is the beginning of the story, and the first arc of several. enjoy.

1 | part time lover | demetri

“So, who’s this trying to Facetime you and interrupting our last day together?” Lita’s holding my phone in her hand while I’m stirring spaghetti sauce, and it’s honestly nothing I’m too worried about.

I don’t mind her going through my phone. I’m more worried about possibly burning this sauce, since we both opted out of anything more than two Oreo McFlurries and a large fry to share earlier, before we got back from ripping and running in the streets of Downtown LA.

I look over my shoulder again and watch her put the passcode in, and shrug my shoulder. She’s not going to find shit that I haven’t gotten her hip to, or that doesn’t concern her if she goes looking around. I could have swore that I put my phone on do not disturb, though.

I heard it go off and just assumed it was hers, but now that I know that it wasn’t, I’m still not in a rush to see who it was. I wasn’t really in the mood to entertain anyone else, especially not someone with the generic, default tone anyway.

But, she’s quiet as hell, so now, I am curious though.

“Who is it? Let me see.” I ask, but she doesn’t approach me.

I suck my teeth softly before moving away from the stove and trying to see what she’s into. From the way she said it, it wasn’t out of annoyance, but yet surprise. Is it bad that I don’t really care too much about it, though?

This time is about her. Not about whoever the fuck managed to get through do not disturb. If I set it, that is. If I didn’t, I will when I get my phone back from her. We’re spending our last few hours of the small break before finals together being domestic, and an interruption from anyone is something I’m not really feeling right now. I know she doesn’t give a fuck about who’s trying to get in the middle of us, but since she asked, I figured it’s gotta be somewhat important.

Maybe.

I take only a few seconds to look up at the open iMessage with the image of a frowning girl looking back at me, and smack my lips together. She tried to Facetime me and I missed it, and she won’t really keep calling, but she wants me to know how she feels about me not picking her up. I look at Lita’s face, and her eyebrows raised with knowing, but she wants to hear me say the other girl’s name.

“Monica.” Who, admittedly, is saved in my phone as the facepalm and side-eye emoji.

“What, she can’t sleep in your bed without you or some bullshit like that now, huh?” She asks real teasingly with her eyebrow still up as I watch her start to cut tomatoes for a salad.

My face goes blank and I slide the phone to do not disturb and sit it back on the table. I turn around to continue cooking, and slide herbs into the sauce and then turn it down to simmer, and lean against the counter once I’m done.

“So you’re gonna ignore me, Meech?”

“‘Cause, you always tryna annoy me when it comes to her. She doesn’t sleep in my fucking bed, Li. You have to remember, this is the same person that plotted on, and trapped me for a hot second, Li.” I add, and she rolls her eyes at me.

“That girl ain’t trap you.” She insists like she just fucking knows everything, and I tilt my head sideways at her certainty.

“She did,” I move around the counter island to get closer to her, and steal a tomato from the board. She licks her bottom lip and furrows her brow again as she thinks about it.

“How?”

I don’t know how to answer that without being at fault too, but I do anyway.

“Because,” I start, realizing that she hasn’t brought Monica up in a while.

The school year kept both of us busy, and as much as I wanted to tell her about everything, Facetime had to suffice when I couldn’t meet up with her in her sister’s rental property in Vegas, or make it out to her Grandparents Family Ranch in New Mexico.

When we were talking, I wasn’t thinking about Monica then, and neither was she. I’d bring her up on occasion, but she’s never been the topic of discussion for too long. Me and Lita have so many other things to discuss that are way more important than a part time, wannabe lover.

I’m more interested in continuing my campaign in getting her to move out here with me for good after she finishes her Associate’s Degree program at the Community College she’s enrolled in right now. I was still trying to convince her to come back to USC with me and everyone else, like we planned years ago, back in High School.

I talk to her damn near every day, and attempt to convince her to make things work out, every day. The longest we’ve ever gone without speaking was two days, once, when her phone was off and I couldn’t wire her any money. Fall semester finals for sophomore year are right around the corner, and it’ll be May in the blink of an eye. I needed things to be squared away so I would be able to move out of the loft when the semester ended, somewhere just for the two of us.

We needed to be on the same page before then, and this weekend was yet another preview of what life could be like if she just got it over with, stopped playing games, and finally made it back to me. I was hoping I could convince her, and if I could, it meant that it would be the end of this all of ripping and running… and the end of Monica’s interference, too.

Having her in Los Angeles for this three day weekend was good, but it wasn’t enough, and that’s probably why I forgot what the fuck she asked me. I’m genuinely too busy worried about trying to get her back here with me than to discuss someone I’m not even fucking with like that.

“You blacking out? Because what? And don’t tell me it’s because ya’ll all live in the same space, either… is it really that easy?” A tomato hits me in the face, and I grimace.

It took a long time between Lita linking up with me out here, and having someone fill the space that came with her absence. Usually, we’d make the drive to Vegas, where her older sister owned a couple of real nice homes that she turned into AirBNBs, or I’d say fuck it and drive all the way to New Mexico for her.

It’s been a minute since I’ve been able to just have Lita to myself though, and I kind of want to, and honestly can, blame Monica for that. At least as a factor in it, anyway.

My living situation was chaotic. With three girls and three guys in one loft space, it was too damned much from the beginning to try and make Lita feel comfortable in, even if four out of six of us weren’t strangers. I knew we would need privacy when we were around each other, and I wasn’t going to get it there. It was just going to be fucking awkward, simply because of the quickly fleshed out history between me and Monica.

Ever since I found out the girl that I picked up at a club and slept with, thinking it was a one night stand kind of situation, was meant to be my future roommate, that’s all it’s really been.

Awkward.

It’s been an awkward adjustment that I hadn’t left Lita out of the loop about, but she hadn’t been face to face with Monica for damned near four months until she came through last month, and that was only briefly. She came and surprised me on a fucking Tuesday, shortly after meeting up with her Dad for lunch for his birthday. I’d already given him his gift earlier in the week - an all expenses paid voucher to a damned good spa, so he could the best massage money could buy.

Monica was with me at the loft, with us just coming back from grocery shopping, when Lita popped up. Everyone else was doing their own thing, so that made it that much more hectic then, with nobody to push Mo off on. It was awkward tension right off the bat, and always is in the few rare times when I’m in the middle of both of them in real time.

I don’t make an effort to bring up them up to each other, and shit, this time, I didn’t even know Lita was going to make the drive to come and visit her dad. Usually, he makes the trip out to New Mexico for the whole week. I was really partially convinced in Mo’s efforts to fool around that day too, so yeah, it was awkward, having the two of them standing in the middle of the kitchen, both eyeballing me, but, naturally, Lita got all of my attention.

She got fucked in my room real quickly too, and, I know Mo heard it. I’d just rather get it off with the one I knew I’d be thinking about when I was fucking her, as opposed to fucking her and thinking about someone else, you know? We just knew better than to bring it up after the fact, though. I didn’t need to tell Lita how pissed off Mo was with me after that, for damned near two weeks.

There’s always other shit we can talk about. It’s not like they really care about each other for real either...

Lita’s mentions of Monica are more teasing than it is questionable, most likely validating something The Twins or Kenny’s shit starting ass has said. She doesn’t follow the girl on social media, but I know Mo’s all over Lita’s shit to the point to where Lita has toyed back and forth with blocking and unblocking her at random. Mo’s just jealous though, and it really makes me only bring Lita up when we’re arguing, just trying to get her to leave me the fuck alone.

It always works, too.

Lita’s still looking at me, and snaps her fingers in front of me, and I roll my eyes at her. She’s done with the salad, and I curl my lip up at her impatient face. She doesn’t really care about the latest development in the “well, isn’t this awkward?” saga between me and Mo…

I don’t think, anyway.

“Damn Meech, you’re just gonna forget about our conversation like that?” Lita asks, pushing me in the chest a little. I exhale and grab her hands, stopping her from hitting my side.

“I didn’t think you cared about whatever bullshit Mo was up to for real, Li,” I kiss her softly, and she bites down on my bottom lip, and shakes her head at me as she pulls back.

“I asked, didn’t I?” She wedges her tongue in her cheek, giving me full attitude.

I shake my head and sit down on one of the stools pulled up to the island. She’s really waiting for me to explain the situation to her too, and I can’t help but smile at the combination of curiosity and overprotection she’s displaying right now.

“It’s been rough, for real. You know it’s been rough since the beginning, while you actin’ like you don’t, too, girl. She still ain’t got over the fact that she’s really just there to kill time until I get you back. ‘Cause, shit, after we got over the whole awkwardness of the one night stand and the fact that she sleeps on the opposite side of the wall from me, she was still trying to get with me then, and she really hasn’t stopped her attempts.” I admitted, loving to drag out the story of how Mo and I came to end up in this fucked up arrangement of sorts anyway, and Lita loves to hear how she’s never going to be fucking replaced, by anyone.

That’s why she’s smirking and not saying anything, because really, I’m in love with an asshole.

“But, you know I was still trying to work shit out with you… if you didn’t curve me with that whole, not yet, just wait, shit. She capitalized on your absence after you left us after midterms last semester, and now she thinks we’re together. We’re not.” I shook my head, and Lita sucked her teeth softly.

“She capitalized on my absence? Who the fuck are you tryna sound like? But...tccch, This bitch…” Her eyes roll dismissively, and she waves off someone who’s not even there.

“Yeah, I mean… I’m not going to lie. We had sex a couple of times and I tried, and still am trying, not to make it anything more than a friends with benefits until you bring your ass back to me kind of thing. I’m not making excuses for it either… Facetiming and driving back and forth to meet up with you is cool, but, it’s not enough. We both know that. I’m trying to get her to understand that too, ‘cause, shit, we’re supposed to talk when I get back, but not on a serious note. She’s probably drunk now, Facetiming me to either be nasty for me or curse me out since I’m here and not in Sacramento with her.”

I shrug, and watch Lita continue to prepare our dinner, and laugh. Her curiosity is sated, and, I feel kind of conflicted about it. I need to do something with my hands, in the meantime…

I start tearing pieces of bacon to go into the salad that we’re meant to share, and relax in the comfort between the two of us. I don’t feel nervous about this discussion, do I?

“She’s coming to your parents house for thanksgiving this year?” I look up and realize she’s scrolling up, in our thread now. I shrug gently. I offered, but all she hit me back with was a fucking emoji.

“Yeah, I guess.”

I only invited her because she said her parents wouldn’t be in Sacramento this year, but I’m not looking forward to it. I’m really waiting to see if she’ll find some way to talk herself out of it. She has in the past when I’ve invited her back to my parents’ home for long weekends or holidays, especially if Lita’s coming.

“I invited her to eat, since she said she had nowhere to go. Her parents are supposed to be going to visit family in Connecticut and I don’t think she wants to travel if she’ll end up there again after finals.” Until I said it, I never really tripped off of how much attention to detail I paid to the things Monica said to me.

Lita’s eyebrow goes up in surprise as she sits the phone down, and I get up to grab plates for us.

“You love her?” Lita asks, and my face slowly turns into a grimace. There’s not much to think about there, and my response is quick. I quickly try to recall if i’ve said that in the texts, but I know that I haven’t, and it makes me roll my eyes.

“No. It’s not that deep for me. She tries hard to try to make herself into someone that I should and could fall in love with, but… I stop myself short from taking it there. It’s just familiar.” I admit, and she knows this.

“She ain’t you, though. Don’t even fuckin’ joke…” I think she just likes to either hear me remind myself of it, or… She’s fucking with me.

“I’m just checking,” She teases me, and I swat her on the ass as she throws it back to me. She turns quickly, and I pin her against the island.

“I’m not trying to take advantage of your emotional vulnerability, or nothing like that.” Lita teases again, like I haven’t taken advantage of every chance I could get her alone to get inside of her since she came through to doors of the apartment.

“What makes you think I wouldn’t let you? That’s all we’ve been doing as long as we’re alone anyway...” I insist, and she smacks my arm. My eyebrow raises to challenge her at the same time stomach growls as she pulls me closer to her, wrapping her arms around my back.

“See, I would tempt you, but I know how you get. And I’m hungry. That McFlurry was early dessert. So, shut up and make our plates, Meech. I want you to eat dinner before you try and eat me instead.” She nips my bottom lip softly and I palm her ass, but my stomach is definitely blocking.

I can’t stop myself from kissing her though, even after her stomach growls too. She laughs into my mouth as she pulls back, still laughing, and pushes me away from her. I make her plate and my own, and we sit on the couch, making the most of it.

Outside of my inner circle, no one really understands how important this is to me. I’m really trying to stretch out every little bit of this three day weekend, but I know tomorrow when we wake up, she’ll be going back to Albuquerque, and I’ll just be here, waiting on her to call me at her halfway there, Gas Station stop.

Or, shit…

I might just say fuck it, and drive out with her, and drive back to make it back on campus right before my 10 o’ clock class...

“Stop looking at me like that,” Lita says, snapping me out of being lost in my head.

“I’m just trying to figure out the plan tomorrow. I fucked up big time tonight,” I watch her face twist as I shake my head and fix my wording, not wanting to confuse her.

“Naw, I’m saying, like… I’m too comfortable right now. I know we won’t have long until midterms is over, but we’re about to be busy as fuck before Thanksgiving Break. And for real, I can’t wait for Thanksgiving, you know? Just… it’s going to be a motherfucker.” I say, paying no attention to the shit on TV, or anything else but her, and the spaghetti and meatballs nearby, as she eats off of my plate and I laugh.

“C’mon, chill, you gettin’ out of pocket with this plate sharing shit,” I gently push her fork back onto her plate as she laughs and turns away from me.

My phone goes off again, and I roll my eyes, but only momentarily. We’ve been talking and laughing and kissing so much throughout us making dinner that I totally put the most important thing on the backburner: our daughter.

I think Lita did too, ‘cause I can see the immediate reaction that reads, “oh shit.”

She got tucked in more than an hour ago with her tablet and YouTube Kids set on a timer, to be inactive after thirty minutes. Spending the day with “Uncle Q and Tee-Tee Queenie” should have worn her ass out, especially after she twisted our arm to opt out of dinner just to hit up McDonalds and play at the outdoor PlayPlace until it closed. She should be knocked out, but, this is definitely our kid.

She’s inquisitive and curious, and weary and anxious, a good combination of the two of us. Even though my phone is on do not disturb, she’s on my Emergency Bypass list, but she knows better.

I guess it’s better than her just walking in here, though...

I don’t hesitate to answer the call. Lita’s face is smashed against mine as I answer the call for ‘MeMe’ with my eyebrow up. It’s past her bedtime, but I know something’s gotta be up for her to Facetime me. Yesterday, it was “Daddy, Uncle Luke said there are monsters out in the streets and I gotta be safe but I gotta make sure there’s no monsters under my bed,” and the night before, “Daddy, I wanna go see Nana and Papa and Papi right now, is it tomorrow yet?”

“Daaaaaaddy,” The tiny voice starts off, and I smile.

“Demetriaaaaaaa. Whatchu want, babygirl?”

“Tell Mama I can’t sleep,” Our four, almost five year old demands, and two seconds later, Lita’s up on her feet, and dragging her hands through her hair as she walks down the hallway and tends to our insomniac toddler.

“Daddy can’t put you back to sleep?” I ask, and she shakes her head no.

“Daddy can’t sing, I want Mama to sing to me, Daddy..” She explains like it’s common sense, and I laugh and shake my head as she hangs up once Lita opens the door to the bedroom.

Knowing she’s in there handling the situation makes me smile, but it also makes my stomach dip. I already feel shitty, holding up in this two bedroom apartment that Luke rarely uses, playing house with Lita and our kid. It’s temporary, and it’s the last thing I want out of my life right now - temporary permanence bothers the fuck out of me.

I didn’t expect her to bring Demetria, only because her niece’s birthday is this weekend too, and I expected Demetria to be a part of that fun instead of being up here with us, which I would have been okay with. But, when Lita told me that Juju had other plans for Monae’s birthday this year, and it wouldn’t be that bad since everyone would be doing their own thing, she didn’t have to say anything else.

I was more excited to see my daughter than I was to see her Mom, for a while. Both my phone, Lita’s phone and Demetria’s instagram page was filled with images and videos of me and her enjoying our time together, and I knew we both had to make the most of it. It’s really hard to be a parent when your child is miles away from you.

It’s like a custody agreement of sorts between me and Lita, that I really wish didn’t have to be. She gets her the majority of the year, which makes sense, considering the circumstances of how she ended up in New Mexico. I can go and see her whenever I want to, which I limit mostly to long weekends, which I’ve crafted my entire undergrad schedule around. But outside of that, I get her by myself for short breaks, like a spring break or a holiday break. We try to switch back and forth for Summer and Winter Break, even though we always end up with the three of us all together.

I had her last summer and she broke my damned heart when it was time for her to go back to Albuquerque. I got so many “first day of school” pictures though, so many “daddy, I wanna come and go to school with you,” facetimes… I know I’m not the only one who’s ready for this separation period to be over, but at least she understands to the best of her ability that it’s necessary for now.

When it comes to Demetria, I’m extremely private about her. She’s the one thing I’m the most proud of, but rarely broadcast on my social media accounts. Shit, to be honest, my roommates who haven’t been my friends since childhood don’t even know about Demetria.

They don’t need to either. My child is a sore subject, or at least, the story of her creation and separation is. Actually, it’s more of one of those, “It’s a long story,” kind of situations, that can’t really be told by me, anyway. Still though, just being here with the two of them for the little bits and pieces that I can get really makes my desire to get Lita back up here that much more important. But, with Demetria being better taken care of by her while she’s in school and in New Mexico with her paternal grandparents, who can help her take way more care of her than the two of us alone up here ever could, it’s just something I have to deal with.

I could have transferred to the University of New Mexico. I could have said fuck school and just took the offered job on the farm that was offered to me when I was still in High School, really. But, Lita talked me out of it. She made me promise to follow my dreams of following in my Daddy’s footsteps and eventually playing for the 49ers, which we all know now, has long gone off course, but I’m still going to make my parents, and everyone else proud of me.

I just want to do right by the both of them, and Lita knows this. That’s why I have to keep convincing her that I need her here, shit, I need both of them here, really, but I know we’re not ready just yet. We’re thankfully in a position to have a strong ass support team on both ends -- my parents are just as supportive as her grandparents and Dad is.

This woman, who, I can hear singing our daughter back to sleep as I sit and steal a meatball from her plate because she has more than I do, means so much more to me than words really can express. Lita is my best friend, my first love. I’ve loved her since I was seven years old. She is my partner, my co-parent, my everything and more, The One I Gave My Heart To and never expected anything in return from…

That’s why Monica is a non-factor, really.

I suck my teeth when I glimpse down at my phone and yeah, she’s drunk. Fourteen texts are waiting, and two of them are from Demetria, who can really only spell a couple of simple phrases and resorts to emojis and bad selfies. She sent “sleep” and “daddy”, with several emojis to follow.

The rest are from Monica, sending me invisible ink nudes, and audio messages I won’t listen to. Her presence only complicates the situation more between not only me and Lita, but everyone else around us. She’s not what I want. We are not together.

I’m not interested in anything long term unless it’s me getting back with Lita. We have history, longevity, a connection -- but we’re not together either. We’re co-parenting and we always attempt to make the long distance situation work, but I can’t call her my woman right now. As much as I want to, and should be able to, it’s just not that easy. She’s not anything I can call mine, but what’s understood doesn’t have to be explained, and I personally feel like now that it’s getting closer and closer to her making a decision about coming to USC for her junior and senior years, and… me and Mo aren’t on…

I mean, yeah.

Eventually, I’ll get her back, full time. Not some part-time type shit, as everything else seems to be that revolves around her. When she comes back, I know she’s having those same thoughts I am about making this more than temporary, and I get it, I really do.

Instead of saying anything though, I go back to eating my food and acting as if she’s not heavy on my mind right now. She plops down on the couch and looks at me, and I think the guilt is all over my face. She stares at my plate, and then hers, and then frowns at me.

“Something is off,” Her eyes narrow, and I look at her. I shrug, and keep eating.

“You took my fucking meatball?”

#keith powers ff #act one: part time lover #keith powers #keith powers fanfic #chapters

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