I think I got it covered .. I'll give my weekdays to Kwashie and my weekends to CJ. That's the dumbest thought I've ever had in my 18 years of life, I don't think the time I tried to runaway with the clothes on my back and $50 to my name was this dumb. I sat up in the bed staring around the guest bedroom, it felt nice in here. Sorta felt like home. It was after 7, I never slept in when I wasn't home. I got up to brush my teeth and applied a face mask going back to sit on the bed scrolling through social media. A knock sounding at the door.

"Come in," I said. I sat up on the bed waiting to greet the person.

"Good mor-" Kwashie started but let out a small shriek when he saw my face.

"Get used to it, fiancé" I said.

"I apologize, I was taken aback by your.... beauty that's all." He said.

"Bro, negroes get smacked for less so watch your vocabulary." I said jumping off the bed.

"Is that a slavery reference?" He asked. He held onto his chin as if lost in thought.

"No," I said doing a mental facepalm.

"Then why would you use the word negro?"

"It's a black people thing.. to use the word nigger or nigga or negro." I tried to make it sound better but I wasn't so sure anymore.

"Well my ancestors weren't slaves, the people from the Caribbean and wherever else they were shipped to were slaves. The only reason I am against it is because it drained our continent of its human resources leaving us in poverty and civil warfare." He said. He had begun pacing the room with his hands held tightly behind his back. What have I gotten myself into?

"In fact, slavery affected us in a larger scale because of the significant loss of our people. When slaves got too expensive to import they tried to breed them for themselves. Black with black and white with black, though sometimes it wasn't always consensual but it kept the generations flowing and rooted in oppression and even though they weren't shipping out people from my country anymore the damage was too far passed the point of return. This is why your skin color and others which are lighter than mine are present these days. It doesn't exempt you from being bounded by a skin color of oppression and inhumanity therefore I have come to the conclusion that you shall not use that term around me nor my family. Which means that in the future you should instill it in our children to not conform to society and use such a derogative term." He said. He had stopped pacing and was staring down at me with a pointing glare. I suddenly felt bad for the amount of times I said nigger and passed it off as okay because of my skin tone but I guess he was right.

"I don't want children," I said.

"Is that the only thing you heard?" He asked.

No, but......

"I'm not carrying anything inside me." I said again maintaining his stare.

"There will be no compromise on that," he hissed.

He walked up towards me and grabbed my arm, his eyes were cold and the dark brown seemed almost nonexistent. I shook my arm free from his grasp and was about to push him when he held onto my shoulders and shook me.

"What the fuck is your problem?" I asked.

"You. You are my problem," his voice rose to a pitch I've never heard before.

"What have I done? All I've ever done was be black and existed." I lifted both arms and brought my elbows down onto his arms to break free from the hold. Thanks self defense class.

He started cursing in Asante Twi, I understood everything he said but I wasn't going to respond. Did the word negro flip a switch in him?

"Why are you so heated?" I asked him back in his native tongue.

"BECAUSE OPPRESSION!!!" He shouted out.

Okay..............

"Do you understand how it feels to be forced and molded into something you're not?? To not be able to live freely? To have to live your life to please the people that gave it to you? I suppose you might understand a small amount of what I have just said but I don't believe you understand the bigger picture. Breakfast will be served at 8:05, don't be late." He walked out and slammed the door. I jumped a little because I was still shocked by the unexpected turn of events.

I slowly made steps to the bathroom counting each one of them, it was the only thing that ever kept my mind calm. I washed my face and took a shower changing into more appropriate clothes for the day. I settled for dark blue joggers and a dark green polo shirt. I didn't wear my slippers because they were walking around barefoot but I slipped on some socks before going down. Kwashie and his father were seated at the table, I went to sit where I sat for dinner and said my good mornings.

"How was your rest dear?" Mr Ekuban asked.

"It was good, thank you for having me." I answered.

"Wonderful!! It's a Saturday, my wife and I will be going out so you and Kwashie will have the house today. Please do not turn my abode upside down," he said with a laugh.

"I will suffer through any interactions with this woman," Kwashie said.

"And I too with this man," I said with a smile.

"Why the change of heart?" His mother asked joining us at the table.

"She is as dense as yam mama," he said.

"I believe what he meant to say was that he cannot handle his emotions and have a civil conversation to understand that others will have opposing views," I retorted.

"I like you," Mr Ekuban said.

I smiled and bowed my head. His mother said grace and we all started sharing our plates. I as usual wasn't partial with the amount I took. His mother looked at me with wonder and his father had an amused expression on his face while Kwashie had that scowl from the night of the dinner.

"Where does all that food go?" Mr Ekuban asked.

"My energy sir, I have perfected the art of manipulating fat." I said. Mr Ekuban threw his head back and his laughter sounded through the room, echoing off the walls.

"You are quite the person, Kwashie is just very stubborn. I've heard of a person that you are interested in. Carter Jones, is it?" He asked.

"Carter, she is my best friend, nothing more and nothing less." I said trying to settle my heart that had suddenly jumped into overdrive.

"Ahh yes, I thought she was a he. Then I believe she will be the bridesmaid for your wedding, correct?" He didn't look up from his plate when he asked the question.

"She opposes to what our families are doing, said it is against the constitution of the basic human right which is freedom." I lied.

"Ah, I see you surround yourself with people who are intellectually stimulating, my dear." He said with a nod of his head.

"Yet still you yourself is so dense," Kwashie dropped in his two cents.

"I will beat your feet until they are swollen and you are not able to stand on them. Speak to this young woman out of terms again and you shall face my wrath," Mrs Ekuban defended me. One point for Zim, 0 for Kwashie.

We continued the conversation even though Kwashie decided to remain silent for the rest of breakfast. I felt satisfied at that, he talked too much. I kept staring over at him though, he had on a red tank top with slightly low cut sides. It was wide enough to see a few inches below his armpit and whenever he moved I could see a cream bandage around his upper torso, he didn't show any signs of injury so why was his upper half wrapped like that? He surely didn't wince when he grabbed onto my shoulder shaking the life out of me nor when I hit his arms. I shrugged it off and continued to empty my plate.

I bid the Ekubans farewell and a safe journey before closing the door and walking up the stairs to go to the den. Once I got there I saw Kwashie sitting on the couch. I went over and sat beside him taking the remote up to change the channel to Cartoon Network.

"I was watching that," he said but his eyes never left his phone.

I ignored him and continued watching The Amazing World of Gumball. I snickered here and there and he would roll his eyes at me with a scowl on his face.

"What's your problem?" I finally asked after the episode was finished.

"Should I repeat the answer I gave you this morning or will you take a hint?" He said.

"You don't have to be so mean," I said folding my arms over my chest.

"You're right and I'm leaving you down here." He got up and started walking off.

"How do you fucking invite someone to your house and not keep them company or at least be an inviting host?" I shouted at him.

"Everything was fine until you have to open your mouth and speak with your lack of cultural education," he said.

"THIS AINT IT CHEIF!!!!!!" I shouted at him.

"Lower your voice," he said.

"Watch your vocabulary," I shot back at him

"You are insufferable," he said.

"And you're an asshole." I said rolling my eyes.

"What flavor of ice cream do you want?" He suddenly asked and the tension lifted from the room as if it was never there in the beginning.

"What you got homes?" I asked standing up and rubbing my hands together. I loved ice cream, any season and any climate. My fingers could be freezing until they were physically hurting I'd still be holding that cone up to my lips slowly licking and enjoying the flavor.

"I told you that I'm not one of your friends," he said.

"Lucky you, I ain't got no friends so I guess you just have to be the one I call homes." I smiled at him.

"Come with me," he said shaking his head.

We walked up the stairs and down the corridor that leads back to the lower level. He walked around to the kitchen and went into the pantry and opened a door that seemingly lead to a basement. Am I gonna die for some ice cream? It better be the good shit or I'm haunting his ass on some kinky shit, no games. I followed him down the board steps and into the open space. He flicked a light switch on and the fluorescent bulb buzzed to life and I saw a medium sized deep freeze sitting in the corner. Beside it was a sink with overhead shelves that held cups with forks and spoons taking refuge. I saw cupcakes sitting on one of the shelves as well as cookies, chocolate chips, chocolate and rainbows sprinkles, squeeze bottles with chocolate sauce, caramel sauce and, strawberry sauce.

"Daaaaaaammmmmmnnnnnnnnnnn," I tried my best to imitate Chris Tucker.

"What?" He asked with a smug expression on his face.

"Y'all got the plug plug up in this joint." I said holding my hand over my face.

"What is plug plug?" He asked.

"Boy, I really gotta teach you these slangs huh? Well a plug is the source you know.. where you can get... things." I explained.

"Well I guess we are the plug." He said.

"My mother buys the pastries factory direct every Saturday when they go out grocery shopping and the ice cream is delivered here from the Ben & Jerry's outlet we have in town." He walked over to the sink and washed his hand.

They got the good shit y'all, I'm ready to die. I was ready before but I'm ready ready now. I walked up to the freezer to see the flavors staring back up at me, I could see it already. I could see the plain cupcake sitting on the bottom with strawberry ice cream on the second layer then the caramel with fudge bites was on third and then there was the cookie dough topping it all off with caramel sauce and another plain cupcake and some more caramel sauce. I needed something to wash this all down.

"Uh, we have almond milk upstairs in the fridge." He said.

"Y'all eat meat but drink non dairy milk?" I asked.

"I'm lactose intolerant, there's some regular cow's milk there too." He shrugged his shoulders.

I waited until he was finish making his ice cream sundae before we walked back up to the kitchen to get the milk. We were now sitting back in the den watching Pearl Harbor, this shit was long and boring but despite me trying to convince him that I've seen it already he demanded that I watch it so that I could be more in touch with history.

"I forgot to ask..." I trailed off. "Are you hurt?" I asked.

"Do I show any signs of being physically or emotionally hurt?" He said looking over at me.

"Physically, no. Emotionally... that's gonna be a yes from me chief." I said.

"Why do you ask if I am hurt, my love?" He asked me.

"Well you have a bandage on your upper torso, kept seeing it every time you moved at breakfast." I said.

"Do you want to know what it is?" He asked. Yes, finally I was going to start getting answers.

"Only because I'm concerned," I pouted.

"It's nunya," he said.

"Huh?" I tilted my head a slight bit to the side.

"It's nunya business," he started laughing. Wow, that shit hurted.

"Damn, okay.." I said.

"Good. Now let's continue the movie." He turned the volume back up completely ignoring me. I still wanted to know.

I didn't know when I fell asleep but apparently I did. Pearl Harbor was still in full swing when I opened my eyes and let out a small yawn, I could feel Kwashie and that was weird. My legs were now open and he was between them resting his head on my stomach fast asleep. I lowkey panicked for a millisecond before I took this as my grand opportunity to perversely push my hand into his top so I could feel for any injures. There was none, instead I felt soft mounds under the bandages. This can't be what I think it is....

The bandages were obviously being used as a binder but it was as if I needed further evidence. I squeezed what seemed to be a breast and I heard Kwashie let out a low and seductive moan, not just any moan. It was borderline feminine and vulnerable. I was confused, I couldn't stay here. I pushed Kwashie out of my lap and woke him in the process. He wasn't aware of what was happening but I was scrambling to get away from him and that couch, I ran up the steps and made a beeline for the guest room that I currently occupied. I leaned up against the door and my heart threatened to climb through my mouth.

"Zidania???" I could hear him on the other side of the door violently shaking the doorknob. The door was locked and I surely wasn't going to open it.

"What's the problem," he asked still fumbling with the doorknob.

"You...." was all I said. The rambling stopped and I heard retreating footsteps leaving me alone with my thoughts.