A Cheating Man's Heart Read online

  “Nothing much. Just looking at some notes from class.” I lied. I just wanted to give him a valid reason to leave me alone.

  “Well, I didn’t wanna both’ ya. But ya momma told me to come in here and talk to ya bout ya lil' girlfriend at the schoolhouse. She supposed you done got stung by the love bug and might need a lil’ advice 'bout scratchin’ the itch.”

  I didn’t know where the hell he got his phrases from, but I assumed that was his way of trying to connect with me. I gave him a pass for effort, but the generational gap was never so evident as it was at that moment.

  “She’s not my lil' girlfriend, Mr. Macklin. We’re a couple now, and yeah, you can say we’re pretty serious.”

  “Well, whateva ya wanna cawl it, there’s a couple thangs you needs to know befo’ you do something you gon’ regret.” While not at all sure where the conversation was headed and definitely skeptical about his relationship coaching credentials, what could I say? This guy pulled my mother so he must have known something.

  “Now I was yo age once, I know how it is. Dese lil' girls runnin' around in they lil' skirts and they wants to flirt and all this and that. I know. But you can’t neva trust nothin’ dat bleed for sem’ days and don’t die.”

  This was, in fact, my Birds 'n' the Bees talk after all. He had yet to enjoy the pleasure of a heart-to-heart with his chip off the old block about girls since Alvin was so busy obsessing over anime drawings, so I guess I was the next best thing.

  “But Mr. Macklin, you married Momma. D¬on’t you trust her?”

  “See me, now dat’s different. I’m 40 years old. It was time for me to give up on awl’at. I had my fun already.” As if marriage was doomsday and every day since was another treacherous step on the green mile. “You don’t wanna be like me. Ya young, ya got plenty mo lil' girls that’s gon' come ya way, and you don’t wanna be tied down yet. Sew ya oats till you ready to stir the pot or you gon' ruin the breakfast for everybody.” he said and he walked out.

  Don’t ask me what he meant. I was just as confused as you are. I just knew that for the first time, I finally had found true love and I wasn't giving that up for anyone.

  Six months went by and my relationship with Brittney was flourishing. She was the number-one friend on my Myspace Top Eight and our picture was each other's background. We were finally able to go out on real dates so long as her mom waited out in the parking lot.

  She even came to the house a few times and we held hands flipping through channels, sneaking in kisses. Had to stay in the living room, of course, which got annoying because everyone looked at us when they walked past, but it was better than nothing. We were in love.

  One day out of nowhere, Alvin decided he had found love too. Up until this point, I was the only one using the phone so I had it whenever I pleased. He knew he'd be imposing on my phone time but he didn't care. He just walked past me one day and said, "Hey, man, I'mma need the phone tonight too."

  Asshole.

  Even though I had started hanging out with Brittney after school, the phone was the corner stone of our relationship. That's where we bonded the most. It was our getaway. We came up with little questionnaire games, picked out lyrics to our favorite songs to dedicate to one another, and everything else first time lovers do. But with Alvin's little stunt, our happily-ever-after was already being thrown a curve ball.

  I couldn’t afford to have him go snitching to the parents, especially with Brittney and I already sneaking around after curfew hours for the phone. So, I negotiated a deal that would allow him to use the phone until 11 p.m. and I’d have it the rest of the night.

  This way, if Brittney called right at 11 before Alvin finished his conversation with whoever he was already on the phone with, she'd quietly beep in instead of ringing every phone in the house, allowing us to do a smooth transition on some Bourne Identity shit. Neither of us were happy about sacrificing an hour of our precious quality time, but our hands were tied and Alvin had no problem pulling that knot unmercifully tight.

  This worked for about a week, no problem, but then the extra hour lapse started to take its toll on us. She became too tired to talk as long as we used to before drifting off, and with less communication came other problems like the blame game, arguments, and feeling distant.

  Although things weren’t the same, there was still no question that my heart had made itself comfortably at home. But that wasn't enough to keep our relationship from hitting a plateau while my step-brother was bumping shoulders with cupid. His conversations were spilling over into my time, but the more Brittney and I were at each other's throats, the less I tried to stop him.

  Emotionally, I was in waist deep. My love was the kind of love that they showed in the R&B videos, but there was no slow motion walks through fields of flowers, no standing outside throwing rocks at the window, none of that.

  Finally, I came to a decision; Brittney and I were going to have a conference with the Lord so He could put us back on track. The preacher told me I could do all things through Christ, so surely rekindling that flame was within His grasp. It was a desperation move, but the desperate times called for it. My next conversation with her was going to be with Jesus on the phone. No arguing, no fussing, just prayer.

  Night time came and Alvin was doing his usual, taking too long and spilling over into my time despite the fact he had been on the phone nearly four hours now, since eight o'clock. His notice to get off the phone was usually a light knock at the door, but I was in one of those pranking moods.

  One thing we always feared was Momma picking up the phone, telling us to hang up her damn phone before she came in there and did something creatively violent. That subtle "click" the phone made when it was picked up was as distinct a sound as hearing the car pull up when you know the house was still dirty after your parents told you it better be clean when they got home.

  I was in the middle of puberty, but I could still imitate Momma's voice to a T. If I did it right, Alvin would have no problem hanging up the phone fast and in a hurry, and I would have no problem laughing about it.

  I went into the kitchen, cleared my throat, picked up the phone and before I could get anything out, I heard Brittney’s voice, “Aww, Alvin….I love you too."

  Chapter 2

  My Brother's Keeper

  I immediately hung up. My heart pounded so hard I could literally feel it in my chest. My knees gave way and the wall behind me broke my fall as I slumped down to the floor. I thought I knew my worst nightmare, but this far exceeded any fear I had fathomed till that point.

  Trying to make sense of it all without overreacting, I considered all possible scenarios. The only one I could think of was that the girl I loved, the first girl I ever loved, just told my “brother” that she loved him.

  Hypnotized by the repetitive memory of that moment, I lay there on the floor as I felt my heart shatter piece by piece. It was an out-of-body experience unlike anything I had ever felt.

  About 30 minutes went by, and I heard Alvin’s room door open. He walked down the hall and caught me lying on the kitchen floor. Casually he stopped short in the dining room and put the phone on the couch. “Hey man, Brittney’s on the phone. It’s all yours,” he said as he non-chalantly walked back to his room and shut the door. I felt a mixture of being lost and outraged all at once. I sat there a few minutes and then gathered myself enough to walk over to the couch and put the phone to my face.

  “Hellooo…Shaaaawn? Are you there? Say something,” she said in that exact same voice that was now playing on repeat in my mind.

  “I can hear you breathing, Shawn. Why aren’t you talking?”

  I sat there a few more seconds then hung up. I didn’t know if she’d try calling back or not, but I figured if she did, she’d just get a very unwelcoming message from my mother which was fine by me. I couldn’t wrap my mind around what all had taken place in those last few moments, and on some level, I didn’t want to.

  I tried to find every excuse for what could’ve happened
or how she could’ve meant it. I checked the phone for a possible explanation, maybe there was an eerily similar-sounding girl Alvin was speaking to at the very moment I picked up the phone.

  I picked up the phone and scrolled through the call history. There were no dialed calls, just one received call at around 8 p.m. when he first got the phone and went into his room, and it was from the number of the one girl in charge of my heart. I went back to my room, shut the door, and opened the window for ventilation.

  Sleep was out the question, so I sat up against the headboard, motionless. Too much was happening at one time and the person I’d normally talk to was the very person causing it all. Little did I know, this was only the beginning. Hour after hour, I tuned out of real life and just took the punishment. They say what comes around goes around, but never did I imagine what I could’ve done to deserve this. I didn’t know who to blame, so I blamed God. He’s in control, so why didn’t He stop this? I asked him for a girl, and this is who He sent. But why did He do this to me? I wanted to talk to Him too, but I figured He had to be mad, and besides, He never responded anyway. It was just me, my sorrow, and my memories until the sun came up. Some would say it was just puppy love, but the torture of coming to reality was very real. This was my first heartbreak and it was as advertised.

  Once the sun was high enough to turn off the street lights, Momma’s door opened and she made her rounds banging on our room doors.

  “Wake up, wake up! You know the drill!” she yelled walking to the kitchen to start her coffee.

  I was still awake, tears dried up and crystallized on my cheeks. I was so unsure of everything at this point that even looking in the mirror was an unfamiliar sight. I wanted to go in there and fight Alvin, and I'd most likely win with the way I was feeling. But that'd surely start some commotion between Momma and Mr. Macklin once he got involved to stop it or start defending his son. I definitely didn't want that.

  Knowing Alvin, he'd go back to school bruised up, and when people asked him what happened, he'd say it was because he “stole my girl”. Embarrassing to say the least, figured I'd pass on that too.

  I’d just keep my distance until I decided what to do with him. We weren’t the best of friends anyway, so what’d I expect? For him to still respect the fact that we were now calling each other family? Guess not.

  As for Brittney, I knew exactly how I wanted to confront her. Face to face. Our last conversation ended in dial tone, but I still doubt she had any idea we were over. But before I made that clear to her, I wanted answers.

  I got dressed for school, purposely getting out the house last-minute so I wouldn’t have to stop and talk to anyone. Since I was horrible at timing the bus, I had to just listen for the squeaking brakes and next-door neighbor's kids yelling to their siblings to come out . Our bus driver was one of those who was doing what he had to do to make ends meet. He made it clear by the look on his face every morning that he was no happier to see me get on his bus than I was to be getting on it. But neither of us had a choice.

  I manually took every breath as I walked into school, hoping that pacing myself would calm me down. It was as crowded as Wal-Mart on Black Friday. Students hustling around trying to go to the cafe before class and others lobbying for people who did their homework to let them plagiarize.

  My locker was on the far side of the school forcing me to push through countless book bags, endure the morning breaths of those who didn't see hygiene as a worthy priority, and overhear conversations about whether or not the rookie sensation, Lebron James, would be the next Michael Jordan. A few people spoke to me on my way, but I only saw their lips moving, and nodded back. I could hardly concentrate on anything outside of my thoughts.

  When I finally got to my locker, Brittney was there, arms folded, eye-brows furrowed, hips cocked to one side. Normally she'd be with her flock of friends until we coordinated a place to see each other in between classes. Just the sight of her felt like electricity shooting through my spine. I had suppressed my emotions enough to keep it together until then, but they were getting ready to break through like floodwater through a levy.

  “Umm..you hung up on me last night. What’s your problem?” she said as her neck rolled from side to side. Without warning, tears began filling up my eyes. I tried looking away but one dropped too soon.

  “Baby, talk to me. What happened?” she said now sounding concerned.

  That was the straw that broke my back. I slammed my locker shut so fast her hair flew. The sound caught people's attention around us and I could see them tuning in to the show.

  “Why?! I don’t understand…just…how could you?! He’s MY FUCKING BROTHER!!” Before I knew it, I was yelling and she had backed up to a safe distance. Her face changed from an it's on attitude to oh shit fear in a matter of seconds.

  “Shawn, it’s not what you think. I-"

  "Don't give me that shit. It's exactly what I think. I just wish I had thought it sooner before I got with your trifling ass."

  "But you not even letting me explain. Like, I really didn't mean to keep it from you. I just-"

  "Accidentally never mentioned it when we talked? Every day. Right?"

  "Well, yeah, I mean no. I mean I was going to try to tell you eventually once the time was right."

  "So when is the time right to simply not have something to tell me? When is the time right to not fuck around with someone's own family. Someone who they have to see every day and night because they live in the same house."

  "Shawn, you know I would never purposely hurt you like that."

  "Someone who's eating at the same table every day. Getting on the school bus together every day. You know, I was foolish enough to believe that if you were to ever do something so stupid as cheat on me, it wouldn't be with my own damn brother I have to see every damn day."

  "He's not your brother. He's your step-brother."

  The crowd harmonized an "Ooooh," and I could feel my hands clenching and the veins in my temple pulsating. My blood was like lava but my heart became ice cold.

  "And you're not my girlfriend, just some bitch that couldn't resist the opportunity to let every guy in the school have a piece of you, no matter how they're related."

  "Shawn, you know I didn't mean it like that, I'm just saying-"

  I was already 10 steps past her before her voice was drowned out by the sound of the school chattering again, psychoanalyzing everything that just happened like a Super Bowl instant replay. They all parted as I went through it, eyes fixed on me and recording my every move.

  I was glad I left because there was no telling what I was about to do next. I never before had felt anger like I did then, and mixed with the embarrassment of it happening in front of the entire school, my actions were becoming vulnerable to the very hostile moment. I knew I could never look my mother in the face knowing I had put my hands on a female regardless of the situation. But breaking someone's heart while blatantly disrespecting them is a good way to tempt a young man who's used to learning his lessons the hard way.

  I went to a bathroom on the other side of the school, found a stall, and locked it. I needed a chance to break down so I could mellow out. Her voice was still haunting me with the repetitive memory of “Aww Alvin…I love you too” now coupled with the visual of the caller I.D. showing her received call at 8 p.m. That shit hurt.

  The rest of the school day was a blur, and by this time everyone had gotten word of what had happened at my locker. All of a sudden complete strangers were coming up to me, asking if I was okay. Not wanting to be bothered is like fresh blood to annoying ass sharks. The day you don’t feel like talking is when people try their hardest to make you speak up. Just as they tried to set me up to get the spiel, I'd knock ém down with a rude and blunt dismissal.

  I thought I'd never make it home, but when I did, I indulged in a music binge. When no one else knows how I feel, R&B does. Interrupting my thoughts with a heartbreak playlist was exactly what I wanted, and exactly what I didn't need.

&nb
sp; I was spiraling down memory lane with old pictures and love letters, having my "Dear God, why me?" moment. I prayed, slept, and cleaned, but the entire time all I could think about was how nothing was what it seemed. The first time you question one person’s love, you question everyone’s love, and that was the scariest moment of being at rock bottom.

  After a few days of missed calls from Brittney and unnoticed silent treatment to my family, I still hadn’t gone very far from square one. I was stuck in somewhat of a numb state. Lucifer himself could’ve jumped out from under my bed and I wouldn’t have batted an eye.

  My mind was a hamster wheel of question marks: How could she? How long has it been going on? What now? Answers I would never get on my own listening to '90s slow jams. Brittney was calling regularly every two hours, and I was ignoring her on the same rhythm.

  After a while, I grew a little weary of the curiosity of what it was she could possibly have to say that was giving her confidence I'd entertain it. So I picked up.

  “Shawn…Shawn, is that you?” she said trembling. Even she sounded surprised I answered.

  “I just wanna know why and for how long. That’s it,” It was a little weird for me to take this tone with her, especially knowing she was probably crying. That had always been my soft spot, her tears, but that soft spot was frozen and dipped into never again cement.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

  “Tell me why or I’m hanging up.”

  “ Okay don’t hang up…please.” She gave a defeated exhale and then began to confess. “It never was supposed to be anything serious. Things just didn't feel the same between us, and I started having questions about how you felt. You…I don’t know, you just didn’t seem like you were interested in me like you used to be. I started wondering if you really had to call me later because of your brother or if it was something else so I just asked him myself. He told me that you were telling the truth and then we just started talking about you and then it went from there. We ended up talking more and more every night and feelings came out of nowhere. I didn’t plan it and I don’t think he did neither. He made me feel how you used to, the nice things he said, the way he thought about life, how he would alw-“