A/N I'll probably edit this, but for now, enjoy! ❤️
***
It looks like I might blow, after all.
Akatua has been sitting here, looking at me for the past 20 minutes, speaking as little as possible, drinking mint tea from a good sized black mug. This woman really is the master of stalling. She came about half an hour after Kwamé's call, and from the smell of it, she showered or bathed herself just to walk for ten minutes in the dark to come see me. She was probably using the time to unsuccessfully think of something to say to me.
She then to made the tea herself, in my kitchen, with boiling water, because it "draws the tea better", with two tea spoons of brown sugar. She used no ice cubes, which I assume she normally uses because of her preference of having traditionally hot beverages warm, like myself. It's so hot, she's using her left hand to hold the handle, and has her right hand covered with a sleeve of her knitted brown sweater as she cradles the cup. She probably did it so that she'd have an excuse to sip her extra hot mint tea extra slowly. I've noticed all of this because I have been shamelessly watching her every move, waiting for something, anything. It's driving me crazy, and I am now no closer to the truth than I was before she walked through the door. I'm beginning to wonder why she came here if all she's going to do is stall and piss me off.
"I'm sad to hear about this, Nya," she finally says, after what feels like a lifetime of waiting.
"You still aren't going to tell me what's going on, are you?" I don't even have to ask the question to know the answer. Still, the look on her face after I speak is enough to set me off.
"F*ck this," I whine.
"I'm sorry, Nya."
"Akatua, this is beyond ridiculous." That's Kwamé speaking as he sits beside me.
"Kwamé--"
"I'm telling her," he says to her, causing Akatua to scowl in displeasure.
"I have my reasons--"
"Because you're afraid. That's not fair to Nya."
"Since when have you been the one who wanted to make her head explode?"
"It won't. Trust me. She'll be fine, considering everything else we've put her through."
I'm glad that Kwamé is picking up for me. I'm not completely surprised, though, considering the way that he's been acting lately. It's as if he's had some great epiphany, that keeping me in the dark will do more harm than good.
"Kwamé," Akatua warns. She gives him a dark look, an angry look. I've never seen her look scary before, but now... now, I'm actually frightened by her. Her eyes take on this sinister look, and her lips turn down in a deep grimace. She looks so... dark. Angry.
Ignorant.
It's a word that Jamaicans misuse a lot, but when someone is said to be ignorant, or worse, hignorant, just know that that person is probably really, really pissed.
"I'm not afraid of you, Akatua," Kwamé tells her, looking completely relaxed. I've seen Akatua do the same thing when Kwamé gets angry with her, and I figure that they're used to each others' wraths. I'm not, though. Not from Akatua at least.
"You can't stop me, Akatua. Your obeah won't work on me, or her."
"F*ck you, Kwamé," she growls -- no, snarls -- before sipping from the cup, and I can't help but to lean back in the couch when she does that. He just looks at her, really stares as if he's seeing her for the first -- or last -- time, and then he gets up. I look at her too, and unexpectedly, the hot tea splashes in her face.
"F*ck!" she screams, quickly putting it down so that she can wipe her face.
"I'm sorry," I tell her when I realise that it's me. Guilt takes over, and I realise that if I'm going to have a normal life, I have to learn how to control my powers. I can feel liquids now, as if they are an extension of myself, and when I get emotional, they reflect it.
"Come on, Nya," he says to me. "We're going on a trip. We'll be back home soon."
I'm reminded of my childhood for a moment, when I would sit in my Gweneth's living room and watch things that were a bit too young for me. I start singing the Little Einsteins theme song in my head. Apart from that, I'm secretly thrilled that he's seeing my home as his home. We tell her goodbye as I follow him out the door, trying to hide the bounce in my step. He probably doesn't notice it, though, because he's so distracted. I can tell that he's still slightly pissed, but there's something else about him, something that tells me that he might not tell me after all.
"So..." I begin, not knowing where to start. All I know is that I don't want to give him an opportunity to think it over.
"When we get where we're going," he tells me in a voice that lets me know that he's made up his mind. He's going to tell me, he just doesn't know how yet. The cold air causes the hairs on my arms to rise and as the faint hues of pink and orange begin to taint the morning sky, I am reminded of the time that I was attacked by the ol' higues.
"You'll be fine," Kwamé tells me as I suppress a shiver, wrapping one arm around me.
"Whare are you taking me?" I ask him, cuddling into his side. He smells like Irish Spring body wash.
"Somewhere that I like to go when I have a lot on my mind."
"Why?" We could have waited until Akatua left, then spoken about it in our living room.
"Because I didn't want Akatua to feel a way."
"Oh."
In other words, he doesn't want Akatua to feel pressured to leave, and to feel as if we're gossiping about her the second she walks out the door. She has her own key, so I don't have to worry about her locking the door. Kwamé's thoughtfulness, however, reminds me that he's a good person and a great friend. Even when he's angry with her he's still sensitive. We're in front of Kwamé's car, now, and I get in without much thought.
"It's closer that you realise," he tells me when he gets in before starting the engine. "And you'll never expect it." Kwamé drives smoothly, as if he was born to do it. He glides over the pot hole riddled roads as if he was born to do so. Then again, his car seems to gave excellent suspension. I soon realise the direction that we're going in.
"Liguanea?" I ask him. There are many places in the Liguanea area that we could go, none of them places that I would have "expected" as Kwamé put it.
"Yes," he replies, the right corner of his mouth curling up into a half smile.
I figure out where we're going before we reach it, because there's only one place in Liguanea that I know of that will be open before 6 a.m. on a Saturday. Still, I feel an ounce of disbelief when he pulls into the 24/7 Burger King in Liguanea.
"Why?" The question comes out with little thought, and I admit, it could have been said in a nicer tone. It comes out roughly, although I didn't intend it to.
"Because," he says, as he cuts the engine, "it makes me feel normal. It's so ordinary, so human."
Although I am human -- right? -- I understand. The mundaneness of a place like this must be a huge relief to Kwamé. It's almost empty, except for this one girl who is knitting in a chair by herself. Strange. Kwamé takes me to a table for four by the back of the restaurant, so that we'd be by ourselves. We end up sitting near the air hockey play area but luckily, it's empty.
"Do you want anything?" he asks me as he pulls the seat out for me. I blush lightly as I sit.
"Not yet," I tell him, and he sits across the table from me. "I'm too nervous to eat." I'm also too nervous to be near anyone, and anything that is mostly water.
He nods in understanding before clearing his throat and beginning.
"As you have assumed, your powers have to do with river mummas," he says, swallowing afterwards. When I say nothing, he continues. "It's Lu'lu. She passed more than just immortality to your mother."
"She passed her water powers, too," I say. It's so simple, I'm surprised that I didn't figure it out. It's one of those moments where everything is just so... anticlimactic. I was expecting something big, huge even, but this? It's too simple. "Is there more to it?"
"Yeah, your mother wanted to be able to battle these ol' higues that were taking over the island. She wanted to be strong, and as Zuhrah said, when you can control water, you can control people. You can control almost any living thing, actually."
"That's why Zuhrah said that I can resist her."
Kwamé gives a solid nod before biting the dried skin stripping off of his lip, chewing it off. I find myself wanting to do it for him, gross as it might seem. I cringe internally, realising just how pathetic I am.
"What exactly can she pass to people?" The question is out of curiosity, but is also meant to destract me from how pathetic I am.
He looks to the side pensively the early morning light hitting in such a way that it makes his jawline look particularly sharp. "River mummas are strong spirits," he tells me. "They can give powers such as immortality, ability to enchant, control over existing powers, things like that--"
"What does that mean?" I interrupt to ask him.
"If you have powers, but they're, uh hard to control, a river mumma can help with that."
He sounds as if he's speaking from experience, as if it's something he's seen. "Do you know anyone who's been helped in any of these ways?"
"Yeah," he answers before licking his lips. "My friend from St. Lucia."
I remember him mentioning this person sometime before. As I stare at his lips, a part of my brain -- the part that isn't being consumed by naughty thoughts at the sight of his moist, beautifully shaped lips -- starts to wonder what kind of creature his friend is, but just as I do, my stomach snarls.
"It seems like its time for us to feed you," he suggests. I want more information, more knowledge, just, more, but I accept that I won't be getting that for now.
"I'm afraid of what I'll do to any liquid. We're in public," I point out.
"You can feel the water, right?" he asks me. I nod my head.
"It feels like an extension of myself." As I think about it, I can feel the liquid in the pipes in the building. It's terrifying to think that if I throw a bitch fit, the building gets flooded.
"You need to learn to let it go when you get emotional. We'll work on it."
"How?" I ask.
"When we get home, I'll piss you off. You will have to learn to control it, or end up with one bitch of a water bill." I nod in agreement, not liking the idea, but not having anything better than that.
"We'll order to go," he says, probably knowing that I'm nervous to eat in public.
"Thank you," I say to him, getting up as he does. 607Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4j4FlmLXdM
607Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbYDZmlAXT6
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***
~607Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡb4a5XZj9KY
607Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTrDyevtZ32
It's been a few days since Burger King morning, and Kwamé has been pissing me off nonstop in an attempt to help me with my water issues, and probably for fun, too. He says that adaptation is what will help me with this issue, since if he pisses me off forever, I can't keep flooding my house forever, but even after I've learned to control it, he continues to annoy me. One thing that he's discovered that I hate is being called by my full first name. Nyamékyε. I don't hate the name, I'd just prefer to be called Nya, especially by the people closest to me, i.e. Kwamé and Akatua. He found me out when we were binging 13 Reasons Why on his laptop. We were somewhere in season two, when Zach's mother said hid full name while scolding him.
"That's so annoying. Imagine someone calling you your full name, Nyamékyε Sabrina Miller to curse you out."
"What's your full name?" I ask him.
"Kwamé Johnson. I have no middle name. I didn't miss the way you flinched, though."
"I prefer Nya," I tell him. I don't know why it annoys me as much as it does. It just does. "How did my mother come to call me Miller?" I ask him in an attempt to change the subject.
"She wanted a common name, an unsuspecting name."
"What's her last name?" I never thought about only knowing a first name for both of them, until today.
"The last name of her slave owner was James, but she doesn't use it. Her slave name was Mary. She ran away when she was fourteen."
I don't know why the idea of her being a slave is so surprising when brought up. She's a black woman and has been living on the island for hundreds of years. What else could she have been? A stranded sailor from the west coast of Africa?
"Nyamékyε annoys you?" he asks, pointing out that he noticed my discomfort. Of course he wouldn't let it go. I don't know why I ever expected him to.
Since then, he hasn't stopped saying it. There is good news, though. I've learned to control my freaky water powers. The progress was noticeable when Kwamé pushed in the back of my knee with his knee while I was drinking water by the kitchen sink. It was unexpected, and pissed me off. I turned to curse him out, only to realise that the water in my cup didn't move, aside from the normal swirling. When I looked at Kwamé, raising my eyes back from the glass to him, he had this smug look on his face, and I couldn't help the smile on mine, either. Kwamé decided to allow me to go back to school, but under one condition: he has to be there too. Strange, right? It is. However, UWI Mona allows anyone onto the campus, not just students. What's more, I don't think he'll try to piss me off in public, just in case I get really peeved and my water powers make an unexpected return. I have labs, though, on this particular day, so I don't know how this is going to work out.
"Everything will be fine," he assures me as I try to straighten the mass of short, curly braids he gave me last night. Why is it that every time you do natural braids (braids without extensions) the ends curl up?
"We'll put beads on them tonight," he says to me, recognising the issue that I'm facing. Pointless to try to straighten them, since they're only going to curl right back up.
"No, it's okay," I assure him as I bend to pick up my bag and walk to the door. Silver squawks loudly and lands on my shoulder.
"She doesn't want you to leave," Kwamé says to me, and I know it's because I've been spending all my time at home. Maybe she thought I'd never go to school again. She cuddles into my neck and shoulder, and it pulls on my heart strings.
"I'm sorry, baby," I tell her. I look up to see Kwamé grinning at our exchange.
"What?"
"You can be really sweet sometimes, you know," he says to me. I roll my eyes at him, and put Silver on the couch. I feel a blush coming on from him calling me "sweet", and I sigh at the thought of Kwamé trailing me around school today. It feels as if he's being extra, but I know that his intentions are coming from a good place. As the car drives, I fidget in the passenger seat, restless as ever. He looks to me and cocks an eyebrow.
"Nervous?" he asks me.
"No, eager."
Because of the lack of parking spaces, we end up parking by the hospital side opposite ABC Hall, and walking to SciTech. At first, all I can think is "I'm back". I'm finally back at school, and I actually kinda missed it. School gives me a sense of meaning, a sense of purpose. I walk with a bounce in my step, that quickly dies down the more I pay attention to my surroundings. I've never been a particularly jealous person when it comes to anything. Never been jealous of things that other people had. Sure, I've seen people with things that I wanted, but the feelings have never extended to jealousy. In terms of boys, jealousy has never been a thing, since I've never really liked anyone. Things are different now, though. Being halfway in love with someone who partially but not fully returns the feelings considerably changes your viewpoint. Therefore, the multitude of women who have winked, giggled, or looked with appraisal at Kwamé since we passed the back of the hospital has greatly irked me. There seems to be a large amount of people here today, seeing that we've passed at least ten female admirers, and that's from the back of the hospital to the front of the MedSci building. I bite my tongue so hard, I taste copper, and wince as I release it.
"You okay?" he asks when I whimper.
"Yeah," I reply.
"So why were you biting your tongue just now?"
"I don't know."
"You know that I don't like them, right?"
Of course he noticed. I'm more annoyed than embarrassed, though. I'm about to answer him, but a girl, around 19-20 comes up to us and speaks.
"Hello, um, can you direct me to MedSci? she asks while eating Kwamé up with her chocolate brown eyes. A question that someone who is either blind (me sometimes, of late) or ridiculously thirsty to the point of being willing to look stupid, would ask, seeing as we are standing by the MedSci building, and that the sign is above our heads. I'm guessing that this girl is the latter, considering a) the look in her eyes, and b) the fact that she's wearing her student ID on the front of her shirt (probably forgot). We're in the middle of the semester, and everyone should know where the faculties are, especially MedSci, but Kwamé squeezes my hand in warning.
"Look up," I tell her in my nice voice, aka a poorly concealed growl, pointing upwards at the sign. She steps back into the road in front of the building, and I find myself wishing that a motorcycle would appear out of thin air and hit her, not to kill her or anything, just to break a foot. The feeling intensifies as she looks hungrily at Kwamé yet again, with a look of knowing in her eyes, devoid of surprise. She's just looking for a reason to talk to him. Fed up, I find the courage to do something unexpected. Its surprising to me, too, because I don't think about it, I just do. As the stupid girl opens her mouth again, I lean up and kiss Kwamé on the cheek. It's just a peck, but I lean into him and rub against him as I do it, just to get the message across. When I look back at her, she does indeed look surprised, as does Kwamé, when I glance at him.
"Oh. Well, thank you, uh, I have to meet my friend." Her light brown skin tinted pink, she turns and rushes in the opposite direction.
"Why the sudden bravery?" Kwamé asks me as the girl goes up the steps towards the main entrance.
"Because, if I can't have you," I say as I turn and watch her shapely figure disappear, "neither can she."
***
How was it? Do you like Nya's newfound boldness or is she becoming too much? Vote and comment, please, because I really want to know what you guys think. Feel free to pm me, or write on my message board, too. ❤️
~Aliyah 💋
ns 15.158.61.46da2
