Rolling Stone Savior. (Discontinued)

Chapter Nine

I wouldn’t hold out for long, and Damien knew it. That’s why he didn’t come after me; he knew I would come to my senses and walk back.

Making it easy was not an option, though.

So I walked and walked, blocks passing by faster than I thought they would. I didn’t know my way around Manhattan at all, and people were noticing. In the midst of the hustle and bustle of the city I skipped along awkwardly, almost getting hit by cars and constantly getting hit by people. This is how hard it was to live in a big city? I didn’t want all of this. Harlem was fine for me; not too slow, not too busy, somewhere comfortably in the middle.

The only problems were…them.

My parents’ faces came up whenever I saw an adult of their age, or a woman with Mama’s hot pink nail polish or a man who let his cigarette hang out of the corner of his jaw like Daddy. I wondered if they knew how much their presences still taunted me. I wondered if they enjoyed it.

“Stephanie?” A gentle female voice called. A voice so gentle that it made me cringe with guilt, made me squeeze my eyes shut and wish I could transport back to that all-white bedroom. But I had to turn around, because I knew all too well that she was approaching me. It didn’t even take the clicking and clacking of her heels for me to anticipate the exact moment when she held me by the shoulder softly and turned me around. “Are you okay sweetie?”

I nodded and smiled, praying that maybe she didn’t have the skill of reading through people’s synthetic facial stability. For a moment, it truly seemed like she didn’t. But then she passed a powdered, red-nailed hand across my face, as if to wipe tears that weren’t there.

“I’m not crying, Miss Trina,” I assured her, fighting hard not to look at her hands that so resembled my own mother’s.

“You better not be,” She said, grabbing a hold of my wrist and bringing me back in the direction I came from. “Now come on so I can whip you up something real quick before heading back out. My house is right down the street.”

It took me a minute to understand why she was telling me where her house was: Damien had let me sleep at his house behind his mother’s and grandmother’s backs. Again I felt guilty, and sighed heavily before taking a grocery bag from Miss Trina’s hand as she fumbled to get the house key. When she opened the door, Damien sat on their couch, looking at the threshold and expecting to see me with apologetic eyes, but his eyes widened when he saw his mother.

“What are you doing back so early?” He asked, not even bothering to conceal his surprise.

“Not even a ‘hello’, my God.” Trina scoffed as she took the bag form me and set it down on a table. “But if you must know, we were out of tamarind and cinnamon for the pies, so I had to come back and get some.”

Damien looked at me for the first time since I came into the house, and I couldn’t quite recognize the expression on his face.

“Stephanie, how come you’re in town? Damien told me the aunt that you said you were staying by was in a whole different neighborhood than here.” Trina hollered from the cabinets in the kitchen. I looked to Damien and he winked.

“Um, I just wanted to stop by to thank you for cleaning me up yesterday. I got a little lost, that’s all.” I smiled again. Thank God her back was turned! I appreciated her caring qualities, but I wanted to be able to lie to her for once without having to deal with her thoughtfulness.

“Oh, that’s nice. You’re welcome baby; it isn’t every day we come across nice girls like you.” And then she paused, turned around, and peered at Damien suspiciously. “My son here doesn’t seem to know a good girl like you when he sees one; you only like little chicken-heads like Kiana, isn’t that right D?”