Insecure (Completed)

32

Devonte

Even though shit was good, I was on edge. I still hadn't got those results yeah. Had me checking the mail everyday and shit. This was taking me back to when I was waiting on my pops to write me back.

It was like I was anxious for the results but scared for what they were gonna say. I had got a letter from Bre, a lil after Thanksgiving break. She was still in her program. Based on the letter, she was doing good. I appreciated hearing that. It was crazy though, how until I got that letter I forgot about her ass. Yaz was supportive as always. She told me she wanted to meet Bre, but I told her to just wait until the program was over.

It was day that Yaz stayed on campus after her classes that I finally got the results. I was checking the mail, just cuz it was my routine, I ain't even expect to get nothing. But, there was an official ass looking envelope in there. I checked the address and it was from the busted ass clinic. I tapped the envelope against my hand as I headed inside. It was like now I had the envelope that anxiety was hitting me hard.

I unlocked the front door and went inside, still eyeing the envelop. Shit could change my life. The apartment was quiet, but Trey's car was here so he was probably in his room knocked. I dropped my key on the kitchen counter.

Damn, I was a pussy. I steeled myself and ripped the envelop open. I slid out a folded slip of paper. Inhaling, I unfolded it. I scanned the paper. My eyes focused on my name in bold.

The probability of Devonte Taylor being the father is 0.001% likely.

The probability of paternity excludes Mr. Devonte Taylor from being the biological father.

It was weird. I felt relief, shit was expected. What I ain't expect was to feel loss. Like I missed my chance of being a father. With Bre, now again I wasn't going to be gifted with a child. I ain't wanna have a baby with Layla, but I did wanna have a baby.

Nah. I shook my head. Fuck that. I was in college. I was only nineteen. I had plenty of time later in life to be a father, and even though I ain't have much in the way of a role model I was gonna be a good ass father. Made me think on when I was in elementary school and my teacher told me something. I don't remember the context no more, I just remember she told me that anyone can be a dad, but every dad wasn't a father. I wanted to be a father.

I folded the paper back and stuffed it into the envelope. Then I had a thought. I took the results back out, snapped a picture and sent it to Layla. Feeling satisfied, I headed back to my room. Before I could go in, Trey opened his door.

"What's good?" It was like he knew I got the results or something.

"I got the results nigga." I straight faced him and shook my head.

"Damn, man I'm sorry. I know it's gonna be hard, telling Yaz you gonna be a daddy." He came into the hall and put his hand on my shoulder. This nigga was tryna be supportive and shit. I decided to quit fucking with him.

"Somebody gonna be a daddy but not me nigga," I grinned.

"Deadass? You ain't the father?" Trey's eyes were huge.

I handed him the envelop.

"This some Maury shit for real," he opened it. "My nigga!" He punched me. "Don't even scare me like that again nigga! Had me thinking we was gonna have an ugly ass Devonte Jr. running around this place."

"Devonte Jr. would get more hoes than you though." I snatched the envelope back. Going into my room I dropped it in one of my drawers and slammed it. I felt good as fuck.

For some reason, my mind went back to my dad and the letters I sent him. He said he ain't get them, and I believed him, but now I was wondering where they went. Who the fuck kept my letters from him and why? Shit ain't make no sense. Nobody had anything to gain from me and my pops having a bad relationship.
No matter how many times I pondered it, I ain't come up with a possible explanation.

My phone went off and I checked it. Andre was calling. "What's up?"

"Nigga, Malik dead." Andre got straight to the point.

"What? Man, that's what you said last time. How you know?"

"Whachu mean how I know, I saw the body. They called me down to the station to identify it."

"Station? Nigga what is you sayin?"

"Man. When I got the call from the police my ass was like oh shit. I was about to lawyer up, but they said they needed me to ID a body. Malik dead for real, and ion know who killed him."

I hung up the phone. Today was just full of surprises, I guess. Finding out Malik was dead aint make me feel any type of way, but that's what happens when a nigga dies twice. I would let Andre worry about who killed Malik cuz I didn't really care. Malik had hella enemies.

I ran a hand through my hair. It was starting to get some length. I needed a cut. I heard footsteps and I looked up. Yaz was back.

"I ain't hear you come in."

"You look like you got a lot on your mind," she said.

"Yeah."

"I got something to tell you," we both said.

"You go first," I allowed.

"Amari's pregnant," she sighed.

I looked at her scrunching my face. That ain't have shit to do with me.

"She says it Malik's."

My eyes widened. I was gonna have to tell her Amari would be a single parent and not because the father was a deadbeat, but cuz he was just dead.

"So you're sure he's dead." We were sitting on the bed. Well, I was sitting. Yazmine was draped across my lap like the big baby she was. She had her arms around my neck. I had just finished telling her what Andre told me.

"Yeah. If Andre IDed the body, he dead."

"I guess...I guess Amari deserves to know."

"You can tell her, but what makes her so sure he the daddy anyway?" I was skeptical. "Shit, it could be anybody's. It could be Trey's." I wasn't even tryna be funny.

"She said it's his."

"So?"

"What are you tryna say, Devonte?" Yazmine wiggled out of my lap. Standing, she folded her arms.

"I'm saying, she was fucking everybody! How she know it's even his?"

"What you want her to do a paternity test?"

I rubbed my face. "Man it don't matter. It's her life. Tell her." I got off the bed. Now I was gonna have to change the sheets. We had been all up on the bed and I hadn't showered. I headed to the bathroom to do just that.

When I got out, Yazmine was looking at me like she wanted something.

"What?"

"I was thinking..." she bit her lip and my eyes tracked the movement.

"What Yaz?"

"Maybe you can tell her."

"Nah." I shook my head. "That's your friend, ain't got shit to do with me."

"Okay, but can you at least be there when I tell her?"

I sucked my teeth. "Man why?"

"Okay fine, dang. Ima go tell her now. I feel like this the kind of shit you say in person." She turned and left. I was staring to feel tired so I put on new sheets and shit, and got in my bed. It was like as soon as I closed my eyes my phone rang.

Who the fuck? I squinted at my phone screen. Unsaved number. I answered it, aggravated.

"Who the fuck is this calling my phone?"

"Guess Andre told you Malik dead." I recognized the voice immediately.

"Pops? Man, what the-yeah Andre told me. Why?"

"You welcome, nigga."

I heard the dial tone. It ain't even matter cuz I ain't even have a response to that. I sat up all the way. Ain't no way I was getting sleep now.