Books, Boys, and Basketball: Junior Year

SAFE PLACE

Every Wednesday and Friday, Quincy spends the night at my place, to keep me company while Grams is gone. I feel safer with him around. It also gives us time to get to know each other again. I dropped him like a bad habit to go running back to Drew. And I kept any interaction afterward to a minimum because I was afraid of pissing Drew off.

There's nothing to stop us from hanging out now, though. So, every Wednesday or Friday Quincy takes me out to eat, we bowl, or we go to the movies.

I feel bad for dissing him the way I have. And the more time we spend together, the more I realize how awesome he is. He goes with me to my therapy appointments if I ask him to, waits for me in the lobby, and listens to me while I cry on his shoulder afterward.

There have been so many days I've left my family counseling sessions in tears, feeling torn down by my father, who still doesn't get it. He doesn't get what he's done to me and defends his decisions to put his hands on me, because, God forbid, someone challenges him. During one session he blows up at the counselor, who then recommends he attend anger management in addition to family counseling.

During another family counseling session, my dad blows up at me and blames me for what happened to me at Candor. Suggesting I brought it on myself somehow. I couldn't finish that session and spent the rest of that night in Quincy's arms, bawling my eyes out.

As another form of therapy, only the two of us are privy to, Quincy and I would get ice cream and watch Fresh Prince of Bel-Air reruns, for some laughter after an otherwise mentally draining day.

Tonight, rather than go out for ice cream, Q and I pick up some ice cream from the store and sit down to eat it on the living room floor while we study. We both have essays to turn in tomorrow and being perfectionists, we are, we need all the time we can get.

My essay is on how slavery has changed the rate of development in the Western World. BORING. Still, I somehow write a six-page essay. Handing it to Quincy, I let him read it so he can tell me what he thinks.

"This is an A-paper, Sidney." Quincy raves.

"You think?"

"Yeah. It's no wonder you're a straight-A student if you're turning in papers like these."

Smiling, I hug him. These past weeks he has been a light in my otherwise dark world. I don't know if I would have gotten through these tough weeks without him, and as I pull away from him, I lean in to kiss him gently on the cheek. Only he turns his head at the last second and I end up kissing him on the lips.

I quickly pull away, but Quincy catches the back of my head with his hand, to stop me from retreating, and presses his lips to mine. My response to his kiss is not what I expected. Not only are there butterflies taking flight in my stomach, but a million explosions sound off in my head all at once, and bursts of tingling sensations streak through my body like lightning giving life to parts of me I didn't know we're alive.

I quickly pull away again, surprised by everything I'm feeling for Quincy at the moment, who has been my rock these past weeks. Clearly, we've been spending way too much time together, but if I'm being honest with myself, I don't want it to end.

Quincy takes the floor and I take the sofa. I expect him to wake me up in the morning to lock the door, but what I wake up to instead is breakfast for two. He's just as bad as Grams with breakfast, and he's already showered and changed. I can tell because his hair was wet, and he smells like soap.

"Did you go home and not wake me up? How are you already showered and dressed?"

"I used your bathroom."