• • •

The now familiar hospital lights shone down on me as I walked through the halls searching for the room number from my messages.

Once I found it, I knocked twice, before entering and sitting in the chair beside the bed.

"And you don't know who any of them were?" The police officer asked, trying to gather as much information about what had happened.

Nasir shook his head, "I don't know them."

She eyed him skeptically, "Well if you remember anything, you have my number."

We waited until she walked out before talking.

As he was talking to me, my eyes flitted over his swollen face, taking in the skin that was littered with purplish bruises.

"-So you were right." He continued in his low tone, "That's all I would've ever been to him."

Eric and his friends jumped Nasir.

It was pretty easy to realize why: Because he wanted to prove to them he wasn't gay.

From his account of what happened, he came home and they were waiting for him, not saying a word before they attacked him, literally stomping his head into the concrete parking lot.

The extremely big difference between only pretending not to be having sex with someone, and physically attacking them so no one believes you're not having sex with them.

"You should've told them their names."

He shook his head, "For what? You know it would've just been a thousand times worse."

Seeing as that was true, I stayed quiet and waited for him to continue talking.

"You know the crazy part?" Nas asked rhetorically, "He sent me a text about an hour ago asking if I was okay."

"I hope you told him to go swallow a dick."

"I just blocked him."

But you drug me for filth when I showed up trying to apologize.

There was a knock on the door and his mother poked her head in, "Hey Nas, I'm running to the store. Did you want something?"

He shook his head, "No."

There was silence as I reflected on everything that he'd told me, wondering why it took up until this point for him to realize that his 'relationship' with Eric was going nowhere.

Love has a way of making you ignore all the signs that are there; Ignore the signs that tell you to stay away.

"Can I stay with you until I find another apartment?" He asked, "You know my mama aggy and my head already hurt."

I laughed, "I guess so, yeah."

Jaxon wouldn't care if Nasir stayed with me, especially since he was staying there less than before.

It wasn't because of our argument a couple of weeks ago, but rather the fact that he was in the final stages of his thesis and would sometimes stay up all night working on it.

He paces when he thinks, and also talks out loud. I can be a light sleeper and would wake up to hear him talking about the systematic hindering of people of color in higher education.

Not very interesting at 3am.

"Thank you." Nas paused for a moment, "And I wanted to say sorry for that shit I told you."

"You said it because you meant it. Don't apologize for saying what you feel."

"Well I'm sorry for how I said it then."

I nodded, "Thanks."

He reached for the remote to turn the t.v, leaving us in a comfortable silence.

• • •

On the drive home, I reflected on how quickly the tables turn.

Not just in the case of Nasir, but Carmen as well.

After Jaxon's dad told him to handle it, he did just that, taking advantage of the fact that Carmen was notorious for buying weed near campus.

That wouldn't have been a problem if she wasn't attending school on a scholarship, but since she was and would lose her scholarship if they found out, she let go of her fantasy of having sex with Jaxon.

It might've been fucked up to threaten her way of going to school but she was the one who wanted to go that route.

I walked into my apartment, sniffing at the air while trying to place the smell that wafted from the kitchen.

Jaxon stood in front of the stove attempting to make something that smelled awful.

"Baby what are you doing?" I asked stepping around him.

"I found the recipe on Pinterest." He replied, "It's baked parmesan chicken."

My eyes wandered over the salt and pepper along with mayo that lined the counter, "You should've left that shit on Pinterest."

Who puts mayo on some damn chicken?

"And where's the rest of the seasoning?"

"It only called for salt and pepper."

"That should've told you all you needed to know." I laughed while opening the oven, "I'll show you how to cook one day."

I wasn't sure why he was cooking anyway since I was the one who usually did it if we didn't go out for dinner.

"What's the occasion?" I asked.

Jaxon leaned against the counter, "I turned in my thesis."

Finally.

"So shouldn't I be cooking for you? Congrats are in order."

"No." He replied, "I wanted to do something different."

He was acting weird so I watched him, waiting to see if he would just come out and say what it was that was bothering him.

"How's your friend?"

"His secret boyfriend and his friends beat his ass. What's wrong with you?"

Silence.

Now I was starting to get nervous.

Taking a deep breath, he walked out of the room and came back into the kitchen carrying a lone polaroid picture in his hand.

"I'd actually already ordered it, but it took a while to get finished." He said, holding the picture out to me, "I hope I didn't overstep."

I stared at it, immediate tears springing in my eyes.

Of course I'd had things bought for me before. Christmas gifts, birthday gifts, in my old line of work, sometimes I was gifted jewelry.

No one had ever done something as thoughtful as this though.

Jr's original headstone was the simple one, included in the funeral package. Jaxon ordered a beautiful granite replacement, using a picture of Jr that I'd previously mentioned in passing as being my favorite.

A conversation I didn't even remember having until now.

When I finally wrapped my head around the gift, I looked up to see him watching me, "I love you, Kyser."

"Show me." I replied softly.

And that was the last time we ever made love.

_________

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