Try Me

Chapter eight

Tyra mugged Khalan, "So what you saying?"

"I'm saying that I'd rather kick yo ass out, before I let your daddy come into my fucking house," Khalan talked slowly to ensure that Tyra understood what he was saying.

This is the first real argument that the siblings have had since they've been cool.

"Khalan, that's my daddy! You can't help me out? He has nowhere to go!"

"Tyra—I care for you and all. I don't hate you, despite our fucked-up relationship. I try to do what I can for you, but this isn't something I can do." He shrugged his shoulders.

"Khalan! You're holding on to shit that happened six years ago! Mama forgave him, why can't you?"

"Mama was fucked up in the head." Khalan shrugged, turning to walk away. Tyra grabbed him and pulled him back. "Tyra don't put your fucking hands on me girl," he warned.

Tyra sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes, obviously not taking him seriously. "He won't stay here long. He needs to stay somewhere until he gets off probation, or else they won't let him out. May you please do this one—"

"Bitch, I said no!" Khalan raised his voice, now getting irritated.

"HE TOOK CARE OF US!" Tyra yelled reciprocating the same energy. Khalan shook his head at this statement.

"He ain't take care of shit! He barely even took care of yo ass. Just cause he was living in the same house as you don't mean he was a good father."

"At least my father was there and it's your fault that he went to jail in the first place!"

Khalan was tired of being blamed for her father's dumb decisions. Khalan was blamed by their mother, Tyra, and even Taija. Khalan knew that Taija didn't believe he was completely at fault, but they needed to blame someone, and she didn't want to be the odd one out. She fed into her mother's delusions too.

"How it's my fault? Did I pick up the phone and call the police? Did I give the address?" Khalan tilted his head.

"No, but—"

"Who did?"

"Khalan—"

"I'm asking you who the fuck called them? Because I didn't. Mama didn't. Taija was too busy taking care of a newborn baby. So who did then?"

Tyra opened her mouth to speak but was cut off again by Khalan. "YOU did. It's not my fault they walked in to a fifteen-year-old and a forty-year-old fighting. Mama was on the floor and couldn't even move! It's not my fault they came and saw all that shit. I did not put that man in jail; YOU did."

But Tyra didn't want to hear the truth. Honestly, she knew that Khalan wasn't the one at fault. But her mama said he was, and so Tyra agreed, although she couldn't blame the way she thought on their mom; she was old enough to understand, but Khalan was always the black sheep of the family, and they decided to keep it that way because it made it easier for everyone else.

"You shouldn't had put your hands on him!"

"That's your argument?" Khalan raised an eyebrow.

"If you would've just...pushed him off without fighting him he wouldn't have had to put his hands on you, you knew he had a temper, and you were plotting." She pointed at her older brother.

"Plotting?" Khalan laughed, slapping his knee and all like Tyra had just said the funniest thing ever, but wasn't shit funny to him. "Look, Tyra, all I'm saying is, if I ever see the nigga, I might kill his ass." And that's a promise.