Expect The Unexpected (H-Town)

Still A No-Go

Stacey

"So you just gonna keep ignoring me?" I asked Shazam for the fifth time.

He took another sip of his grape soda, eyes glued to the basketball highlights like I wasn't even there.

I reached over and yanked the cord out of the wall.

The TV went black.

"What the fuck, Stacey?!" he yelled, jumping up.

"I don't give a fuck about your highlights," I snapped.

"I'm trying to talk to you and you keep ignoring me. I came here to apologize about the other night, Solomon."

I sat down on the couch.

He moved to the opposite end like distance would fix anything.

I sighed, grabbed my bag and my bottle of water. "I'm not about to keep chasing you. Those days are over. I tried to apologize—can't say I didn't."

I headed for the door.

"Sit back down," he said sharply.

I turned around, stunned. "Excuse me?"

"I said sit down, Stacey. Don't make me repeat myself."

I stared at him for a second, then slowly put my bag down and sat back on the couch. Not because he told me to—but because I wanted this conversation finished. I had fifteen minutes before I was supposed to meet Kadeem.

"Why now?" he asked, sitting on the coffee table across from me. "Why you apologizing now?"

"I'm not trying to lose you as a friend," I said calmly.

"Just because we're in the same book doesn't mean we're on the same page. I'm sorry about how our date ended, but you know I've moved on. I didn't come here to reopen anything."

"So this is about sparing my feelings?" he asked.

"No," I said, my voice rising despite myself. "This is about me trying to save our friendship."

"Lower your voice," he warned.

I clenched my jaw. He'd told me over and over he didn't want me like that—so why was he acting like this now?

"Why you acting different all of a sudden?" I asked.

"You told me multiple times you didn't feel that way about me. But now that I'm with Kadeem, you got a problem?"

He ran his hands over his face and finally exhaled.

"I don't know," he admitted. "Every time I see you with him, I get mad. Every time you mention him, it pisses me off. I didn't want you... until I saw you wanted by somebody else."

That hit harder than I expected.

"I don't even know what to say to that," I said quietly.

"You don't have to," he replied, standing and opening the door. "I'll see you around."

I picked up my bag and paused. "Maybe things will change. Just... don't give up on our friendship so quick."

I kissed his cheek.

He forced a smile.

Outside, I walked down the block, crossed the street—and there was Kadeem, sitting on my porch like he belonged there.

"Hey baby," I said, smiling wide.

"Hey beautiful," he replied, pulling me into his lap. He kissed my neck and I felt myself relax instantly.

"Where you been?"

"Took the long way home," I lied.

He smiled. "I don't like that. I might have to start walking you home myself."

I smiled back. "I'd like that."

And for the first time all day, everything felt simple again.

Shazam

The door stayed open longer than it needed to.

I didn't close it right away.

I just stood there, staring at the empty porch like she might turn around and say something else. Like she might give me one more chance to say the right thing.

She didn't.

I shut the door slowly and leaned my forehead against it for a second. The house felt louder now—even without the TV on. Too quiet, but not peaceful.

I walked back into the living room and sat on the couch, the spot where she'd been sitting still warm.

That pissed me off more than it should've.

I picked up my grape soda, took a sip, then set it back down untouched.

"Idiot," I muttered.

I replayed everything.

Her pulling the plug on the TV.
Her standing her ground.
Her saying she wasn't chasing anymore.

And the worst part?

She meant it.

I'd told myself for years that keeping things undefined meant I was in control. That not choosing was safer. That if I never admitted how deep it went, I'd never get hurt.

Turns out, that was a lie.

Because watching her walk away—choosing someone else—hurt like hell.

I sat back and stared at the ceiling.

Kadeem's name echoed in my head, and I hated that it did. Not because of him—but because of what he represented.

Consistency.
Intent.
Everything I waited too long to be.

I rubbed my hands over my face and laughed once, dry and humorless.

"I really fumbled this," I said out loud.

I thought about calling her.

Then thought about what I'd even say.

I'm sorry felt late.
I miss you felt selfish.
I love you felt dangerous—and probably unfair.

So I didn't pick up the phone.

For the first time, I understood something I never wanted to admit.

Stacey didn't leave because of Kadeem.

She left because I kept choosing comfort over courage.

I stood up, walked to the window, and watched the street outside like it might give me answers.

All it gave me was silence.

And in that silence, I finally had to sit with the truth:

Some people don't walk away because they stop caring.

They walk away because they cared long enough.

And I waited until she was gone to realize I should've spoken sooner.

By then?

It was already too late.