Maria Perez

“What the fuck, man?!” Drew bellowed, holding his jaw.

The girl beside Drew finally woke up, rubbing at her eyes.

“You!” Nathaniel pointed at the girl. "Get out now.” 

She glanced at Drew, but he didn't acknowledge her.

She quickly grabbed the blanket, covering herself with it, and then grabbed her dress and heels, scurrying out of the room.

“You're really a piece of shit.” Nathaniel spat at Drew.

“I should go.” Jamila finally spoke, taking a step back.

“What? Where?” Nathaniel faced her, his expression softening.

Her right hand was already trembling, and she used her left hand to cover it, holding it still.

“I just… it's fine, I'm fine.” She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.

Her right hand was already shaking, and she used her left hand to cover it, holding it still.

“Jamila, we should talk,” Drew said.

“Do you want to talk to him?” Nathaniel asked Jamila, and she nodded.

“Are you sure?” Nathaniel probed further.

“Yes. I'm sure you should really get the fuck out of here!” Drew interrupted, standing from the bed to slip into his boxer briefs without a hint of shame.

Nathaniel shook his head unbelievably and then left the room.

"Jamila,” Drew started. 

“Why?” She questioned.

“Why?” He chuckled, “I don't know. Maybe I got bored.”

Jamila held her hands tighter, nodding her head. “Yeah.”

“We should end this, okay?” She continued, “It's over, Drew.

“Yeah, okay. We weren't progressing anyways.” He shrugged nonchalantly, striding to the mirror in the room.

“Jeez, Nathan is a bastard.” He muttered, checking out his bruise, ignoring Jamila completely.

Jamila stood on the same spot for five seconds, staring plainly at the wall, before walking out of the room, still clutching her hands tightly.

“Hey, hey." Nathaniel's voice softened as she came down the stairs. “Are you okay?”

Her phone started ringing in her pocket, and she slid it out to see the same unknown caller again.

Her eyes twitched, and she was about to swipe green when she remembered Nathaniel was there with her.

She switched off her phone and peered up at him.

“I just want to… uh, go out for a while… then I'll be back to get my things.”

“You shouldn't shed a tear for him. Your friends were right; he doesn't deserve you.”

“I promise I won't cry.” She responded with a chuckle.

After she’d left the house, Nathaniel brought out his phone, calling Malakai.

~~~~~

“I need you to leave my house now.” Malakai said, calmly, even though he was anything but.

He'd just returned home—an hour after Nathaniel called him—to meet Drew sprawled on the couch playing video games like nothing had happened.

“What? Because I banged some bitch that isn't Jamila?” Drew laughed, and his eyes flicked to Nathaniel.

“So you called him? You really are a bastard, aren't you?” 

“How could you do that to her? She's your girlfriend, Andrew.” 

“Not anymore; she's not.” Drew snickered. “And look at what your employee did to my face!” He gestured at his bruise.

Malakai ignored him, his mind filled with thoughts of Jamila—where she was and what she might be doing at the moment.

“What about Jamila? Where would she go? What about her family?” Nathaniel inquired worriedly.

“I don't know; she'll figure something out.” Drew scoffed.

“What the fuck, Andrew!” Malakai snapped hotly.

Drew flung the controller in annoyance.

“Look, man, I never wanted to come here in the first place because I knew you'd start being all controlling and shit. But since you're giving me an out, I'll gladly take it and leave.”

“Yes, leave.” Malakai's lips pursed.

~~~~~

Jamila walked aimlessly down the streets, her mind a jumbled mess.

What would she do now?

No job?

No house?

Where would she even start with all her debts?

Now she was back to square one. Again.

That voice—the one she'd always tried to shut out all her life—came rushing back in full force.

*You should never have been born, Jamila!*

"No,” Jamila croaked out, covering her ears with her shaky hands.

*I never wanted you!*

*This is all your fault, Jamila!*

“P—please. No.”

Jamila slumped to the ground on her knees, gasping for air.

“Oh my God! Are you okay?!” A passerby rushed to hold her.

“Sweetheart, can you hear me? I need you to breathe, okay?” 

“I—can’t—”

“Yes, you can. Everything will be okay. You'll be okay.” The woman assured softly.

Jamila shook her head, tears slowly falling down her cheeks as she stared at the woman—a complete stranger.

The woman stayed in front of Jamila until her breathing finally became steady.

“I'm so sorry.” Jamila whispered, looking around her surroundings to see people staring at her.

“Do you need to call someone?” The woman asked, and Jamila's mind immediately went to Malakai.

“I’ll call my friends.”

“Oh, okay. No family?”

“What?” Jamila blanched.

“Oh, sorry. I didn't mean—”

“It's fine,” Jamila said, faking a smile.

The woman helped her to her feet.

“Well, whoever you have, don't be scared to reach out to them. You look like you're dealing with a lot of things alone. And I really hope you get through whatever it is.”

“Thank you.”

“Take care of yourself, sweetheart.” The woman smiled warmly, giving Jamila's arm a gentle squeeze before walking away.

Jamila let out a shaky breath and switched on her phone, seeing three missed calls from the same unknown number.

“Jamila.” Someone called out, and she turned around to see another woman standing on the pavement across from her.

“Jamila, you've been ignoring my calls.” 

“I didn't know it was you.”

“Oh, please don't give me that crap.” The woman hissed.

Jamila's hand tightened around her phone as she stared at her, Maria Perez—the woman she'd known her whole life.

And for just one moment, Jamila wished that the woman standing across from her right now could be a little bit like that stranger who had just helped her through her breakdown.

She wished this woman could call her sweetheart and smile warmly at her, and reassure her that everything would be okay. 

That she, Jamila, would be okay.

That they—both of them right here—would be okay.