"we fell in love the way you fall in leaves."
Juwan "Rocky" Rockwell has had a pretty hard life. Between trying to find a way to fend for himself and dealing with the normal hardships of teenage angst, he had nowhere to turn as an adolescent and no...
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"concrete"
"What'd you just say?" I inquired. "She's moving back to Georgia," Red replied.
I sat down involuntarily, my mind going blank for only a moment before it began to race.
Why now? Why ever? Was it because of me? Was it because of what I'd done?
I mean, the Quinn I knew loved New York. The Quinn I knew looked at New York as her door of never-ending amounts of opportunity. New York was the beginning of her life. All the times she'd tell me about home, she made it sound like a prison. All that space, all that plant life, all that culture down in Georgia, and she felt like a caged bird. The Quinn I knew found a place to spread her wings in New York, amongst the concrete and between the blocks of housing projects. The Quinn I knew saw this place as home.
I forced myself to cease my thoughts. The Quinn I knew was nonexistent. It was time to stop acting like I knew who she was anymore. I obviously didn't, and that fact would never change. . . but I couldn't help but wonder what changed from only a year ago and now?
"Before you start blaming yourself or whatever the fuck you do when you get that look on your face, Key told me that she's moving because she misses the support she had back in Georgia," Rashad shattered my trance of thoughts.
"Nothin' to do with you, man," he added for reassurance. I only nodded, a quiet sigh of relief fleeing my lips. "Not that you should give a fuck anyway," he muttered. "Why shouldn't I?" I asked. "The bitch tried to throw you in prison, Rock! That ain't enough to sever whatever feelings you have left for her?" he looked at me as if I was growing a twin out of my side.
There was a knock at the door before I could respond, calling for Rashad to approach the door. He observed who was on the opposite side through his peephole before undoing the various locks on his door, quite of few of them being added only recently.
"What's up, Dinero?" he greeted Marcus, giving him a handshake and bumping his shoulder upon widening the door so he could enter. "What's up, Rojo?" Marcus chuckled, "since we speakin' Spanish now."
"Yo, what's good, Rock?" he nodded upon approaching the living room, where I was seated. "What's goin' on, man?" I smiled slightly, dapping him up before he took a seat on the latest piece of furniture Red added to the place-- he said it was something about adding more of Keisha's touches to his place.
"Man," he sighed deeply while leaning back into the chair. "Same old, same old. Em's got me runnin' on a hamster wheel, as usual. That woman is lucky I love her, man."
Rashad and I glanced at each other with raised eyebrows.
"Em? Love?" I questioned. "Man, since when have you been callin' Sweets 'Em'?" Rashad chuckled. Marcus scoffed. "Come on, man. I've always called her that."
