Sydney Bay Janes

I got in the house after eleven at night from my non-date with Will. I actually think I want to call him Wilson, it's so cute, different. Yeah, Wilson, I like that.

Anyway, Chyna didn't seem to be back, yet, or she just went to sleep without texting me which she'd never do.

I snuck inside, not because I'd get in trouble but to be courteous, and carefully shut the door behind me.

I walked through the kitchen quietly to grab a couple bottles of water.

"Who's that?" Tom shot up.

He was in the living room stinking up the couch, having fallen asleep to some low budget action movie featuring poorly directed sex scenes.

I curled my face, the glass to my lips. "It's me."

"Who's 'me,' you pay bills here?" he groaned, standing from the bed he made himself on the sofa.

"Not your house," I mumbled back, walking down the hall.

He scratched his crotch, walking towards Delaney's bedroom. Disgusting.

3:04am

Hehehehe.

Laughter woke me up as I was a light sleeper and any sound disturbed my rest.

I squinted, seeing the doorknob twist.

In walked Chyna, easing my nerves. She was drunk, I could tell from her unbalanced walk and the stupid grin on her melted face.

"You look a mess," I huffed, fluffing my pillow.

She stumbled across the carpet and threw the heels and purse down.

Reeking of alcohol, Chyna climbed into bed and giggled in my ear.

"Hope you had fun," I talked, my eyes closed.

"I did," she laughed, flicking my nose. "He blew my back out, for real."

Everyone's making me so uncomfortable tonight, I thought in my head.

"Chy," I uttered, "you know I love you, but you're being annoying. Take your makeup off then come back to bed; I grabbed water for you, it's right there if you need it."

When Chyna got herself together, she sobered up some by then so I let her back in my bed.

We lied facing each other with some sitcom playing on tv in the background.

"Syd," she whispered.

"Yeah?" I spoke softly.

"Why don't you ever talk about your parents? Do you miss them, I know tomorrow is their wedding anniversary - you post about it every year?"

"It's not easy. It's better to not talk about it," I said, rolling over in hopes to end this conversation.

"I wonder what happened to them. You know you can tell me anything, sis," she went on.

"Night, Chy," I sniffled.

"Can I tell you about my date?"

"Sure," I agreed, lying on my back.

I rarely got bitter when it came to my friends' relationship and success in picking up guys. Honestly, I was always happy for them. Though, lately, I'd be a little bummed if Chyna and Damian became a thing; she's my best friend and we usually do things together, one of us in a relationship would ruin that. Or I'm just jealous because I haven't gotten to experience that. You know, meeting a guy who thinks you're pretty and actually approaches you not just for sex, but because he wants to get to know you, the wine and dine, butterflies in your stomach at the thought of him, flirtatious looks, and pulling all-nighters on the phone talking about nothing yet everything.

I'm humble, I swear, but it was like a curse before coming here. Guys would hit on me and even if I wasn't interested, only entertaining them because I liked the ego boost, it wouldn't matter; Tony would always scare them off and tell me how worthless I was.

Chyna was still rambling so I tuned in to what she had to say.

"--So after he picked me up, we started talking about music and he had made this playlist for our date which I said was corny, but cute. We like all the same music! We smoked and then sat in the car before getting something to eat at this lounge, right? He's so funny, he had me weak all night. Then we hit the strip and just talked. Oh, and the sex-- girl. He could make me move out here, too! Syd? Syd, you hear me?"

I know it's a shitty thing to do but I pretended to be sleep.

My best friend knew me well and guessed I was faking. She sucked her teeth and nudged me as she got comfortable under the covers.

"Good night, Ms.Jealous," she huffed. "maybe you'll be nicer when you get some."

I woke up and went to the kitchen. First things first, I needed iced coffee.

Panic overcame me when I couldn't find the Starbucks glass cup I normally used.

I looked everywhere until I noticed it in the dishwasher. There was a note taped to the top from Delaney that read:

this is mine, get your own xoxo

I rolled my eyes.

Going to the fridge for creamer, I saw notes on everything.

"What the Hell," Chyna snarked, walking up behind me.

"'What the Hell' is right," I snapped, slamming the refrigerator door shut. When I did, there was Tom.

I stepped back, wondering why he was being so weird.

"You two don't know how to say good morning when a man enters the room?" he had the nerve to say, zipping up his jeans.

Chyna went "Um," and I just ignored him.

Delaney walked in the kitchen in a hurry, pulling on her sweater.

"Excuse me," I spoke up, following her around the island.

"Oh, good morning, Sydney. Chyna," she clucked, picking up the one Starbucks up. I watched her rinse it out and start the hot coffee machine.

"What's with all the notes," I questioned, annoyed.

Delaney rolled her brown eyes. "I love you, you can stay here as long as you like, but you have to pull your own weight. I'm not used to providing for four. And this is my cup, I won it at a baby shower, thank you."

"Then just say that," I argued, "don't be petty and write notes."

"You're never here, and when you are, you're in your room, avoiding me. Please, Sydney, it's not a big deal, just help out some, okay?" she reasoned.

"You better listen," Tom butt in. "we didn't have any problems here before you came."

"You want me to get him, or?" Chyna seethed in my ear.

Someone's timer went off on their phone. It was Tom's, he turned it off and gave Delaney a kiss on her cheek.

"That's me, time for work," he noted.

Chyna and I were standing in our places with folded arms and narrowed eyebrows, just waiting for him to exit finally.

With a scowling look, he passed us and left through the front door.

Delaney sent me a glare. "Be nice, please," she sighed, pulling the colorblock purse on her shoulder.

'Nice' my ass, I internalized.

"I'm going to work. If you could stop to a grocery store, I'd appreciate it. Thanks," she talked quietly, making her way out.

"I'm literally praying for their downfall," Chyna scowled.

I whipped my neck her way. "They're unhinged. Literally."

***

Later that weekday afternoon, Chyna and I weaved through the supermarket.

I didn't like Delaney's new attitude towards me, I knew it was just because of Tom. Women like her, I think, are insecure; always needing a man around and doing what he says, putting him on a pedestal for no reason other than she hates herself.

As my only family member besides the girls at Reignbow, I wanted to stay in her good graces, so if that meant putting up with Tom's shit, then so be it. He's not always around, either. Though, when he is he's a pain and my "aunt" can't be herself.

"What else is on the list?" I asked Chy who had the sticky note.

"Umm, steak," she squeaked, popping the lollipop from her lips.

I tried taking a peek and she pulled away, cracking up.

Pushing the cart down the snack aisle, I said, "No it's not, you're just hungry."

"And am," she didn't object.

I laughed, shaking my head at her.

"Remind me to get a cup, too," I said to Chyna who was pushing anything with sugar in the cart.

"Excuse me, miss," a little boy tugged on my blue Argyle print bodycon dress.

He was nervously darting his eyes around the store, panting.

"Run along lil' boy, she don't have no money," Chy was my mouth piece.

"Cindy?" He gasped, looking into my eyes.

"Sydney. Hunter?" I remembered the kid from my kitchen, Wilson's brother.

"You don't have a few dollars?" he begged.

I felt bad and reached in my purse but Chyna pushed my hand away.

"Not for you," she snapped, shooing him away.

"Chyna, it's okay," I exhaled. "I know him."

She threw her arms up and walking away said, "Not my circus, not my monkeys."

"Why are you playing hooky again?" I started the interrogation.

He swallowed. "Um... Will?"

"Where is he?" I asked, doubtful.

Hunter was making it up as he went along, he just looked like he was lying.

"Um, electronics?"

"Let's go get him, then," I offered, taking off.

"No, wait, I lied. Will's not here, and I did go to school today but I threw up so they tried calling Will to come get me but couldn't get a hold of him," the kid explained.

I leaned in and smelled Hunter. He stunk, and not like most teenage boys do, but like dirty laundry and cigarettes.

Something obviously was up with this kid and I didn't want to just leave him hanging.

Giving in, I asked him, "I guess you're hungry?"

He nodded his head of blonde hair.

"Chy, we're leaving!"

*** To be continued ***