All But One

Chapter 55

At the bookstore, Hakeem explained exactly what he would need from me through this process. I eventually pushed my own feelings aside and internally committed to helping him through this. When it's all over, I would figure it out from there. 

We decided that we needed to really sell the idea that we were no longer talking at all for the plan to work. We could not hang out at school or anywhere public. We also could no longer text each other. Since we were actively planning on breaking several trial related rules, we had to be especially careful not to create any evidence of it. 

Just thinking of everything we discussed kept me up for hours last night. But, to make sure a man like Rodney Rashford is put away for as long as possible, it is worth it. 

Later today, I plan to drive to meet Hakeem at a restaurant not too far from his home. He's going to take the bus there, even though we are both heading there from school. From there, we're going to walk to his building. 

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"Here we are." Hakeem says, gesturing towards the tall, ominous building.

I stare up at it, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling that creeps up on me. The scene is very different from the first time that I was here. There is no snow falling, no shouting, and most importantly, no Rodney Rashford.

"Is this a good idea?" I ask. Standing in front of the apartment building where he lived with his father left me constantly glancing over my shoulder.

I wrapped my arms around myself in an attempt to shield myself from the brisk air. Hakeem seems to take notice and wraps one of his arms around my shoulders. He guides me to the front entrance and into the building.

Even though it's a bright, sunny day outside, the small apartment lobby does not reflect that. The sole window only lets in a few glimmers of light through its cloudy pane.

I don't get much time to look around as Hakeem leads us to an elevator; but, what I do see does not leave me with a desire for more.

The elevator opens with a ding, and a pungent scent of smoke greets us. My face immediately shrinks up and I glance up at Hakeem to see his reaction.

His face remains in the same neutral expression as when we reached the building door. I look away, finding myself holding my breath for the ride up to his floor.

A few short moments later, I am watching as he unlocks the door to his apartment unit.

"Well... this is it." He says, throwing the door open to reveal the apartment. I cautiously step in, feeling as though his father could pop out any second.

Hakeem follows me inside and closes the door behind us.

"I see." I say, taking in the apartment. I can tell that it has been thoroughly searched by the police. I slowly walk further in and take in more of the environment.

The apartment is small. So, when I step in, I am only a few feet away from the kitchen.

"How do you feel?" I ask Hakeem, facing him. "Being here."

He lets out a deep sigh. "Honestly, I feel a lot of things." He says, his eyes scanning the room.

"There are so many memories that come back now that I'm standing here with you. I feel as if my past..." He starts, lightly patting the small wooden dining table. "Is colliding with my future." He finishes, returning his gaze to me.

His eyes linger on me for a moment, causing my face to warm with a flush.

"I'm showing you all the parts of me that I fought so hard to hide throughout my life. But, I don't want you to use it to define me." He continues, his eyes glossing over.

I open my mouth to speak, but make no sound at first.

"I won't. I don't." I say, even though I know that it can be difficult at times to keep that promise.

"I believe you." He says with a small smile, "Surprisingly."

I playfully roll my eyes. "You can never be serious for long."

"You know me, gotta make you smile whenever I can." He says.

"Well, it worked." I smile.

Our brief moment is abruptly halted by a loud bang. I immediately jump and close the gap between Hakeem and I. He instinctively wraps his arms around me.

"Don't worry." He says, rubbing my back. "That's just the next-door neighbors."

The bang is followed by loud shouting from two people. One voice is feminine sounding and the other is a much deeper, booming sound.

"Are they okay?" I ask.

"No. But, they do this every day, so I guess yeah. They're fine." Hakeem says, not seeming to be disturbed in the slightest about this.

"Oh."

"This isn't the most peaceful apartment. It's just a place to live." He shrugs.

"Are you still staying here?" I ask, realizing that I had never considered what it is like to have your home be a part of a police investigation.

"No. I was given a hotel room to stay at until this all dies down." He says.

I nod. "Okay, that's good."

"But, anyways, let's get this over with." He says, unwrapping his arms from me to take the photos out of his pocket.

He hands me one of them.

"This one is of the stash of weapons that they found hidden in the cabinets." He explains.

I examine the picture and match it to the cabinet that is right behind me.

Hakeem hands me each picture, one by one, while I put together the scene in my mind. Many of the images only enhance the fear I felt earlier. An unsettled feeling builds deep in the pits of my stomach with every image he unveils. But, I continue to help Hakeem piece it all together. This is what he needs, and I will help him in anyway that I can.

With all of the pictures set out, we begin to craft our story. The story that will be sure to put Rodney Rashford where he belongs: prison.