Page 7 of Give Me Honesty

“No. Hell, I study so much it’s hard to focus on much else. Are you going to tell me your name or should I make one up?” I asked again.

“My name is Rondell Wilburn. I’m a sophomore, the star player on our basketball team, and an NBA prospect. I guess I’m not used to meeting people who don’t know who I am or, at the very least, know who my dad is.”

“Sorry. College sports aren’t really my thing. You seem like a nice guy though.”

“I’m the nicest guy you’ll ever meet. Why don’t you come hang with me tonight?” He offered, holding out his hand for me to grab.

His eyes held curiosity in them. I probably should have run for the hills, but something about his eyes and that devilish smile intrigued me. I wish I knew how much I would come to regret my decision later.

“Did you hear what the fuck I just said?”

His aggressive tone snapped me back to reality, and the deep frown lines on his face grew more prominent as he seemed to be in a bad mood all the time.

“Aye, what the hell has your attention for you to be zoning out like this? You thinking about Solomon’s wack ass or something? Huh?”

His hand slammed against the steering wheel, causing me to jump.

“N-no. I-I’m sorry, I was thinking about the day we met in the student union. I didn’t realize I zoned out. I guess my mind got stuck on happier times, that’s all.”

Rondell’s focus shifted between me and the road, but I noticed his shoulders relax, and his grip on the wheel loosened. He sighed deeply as he reached over to adjust the volume of the music. His eyes remained on the road as he began to speak.

“I know you’re probably tired of hearing it, but I’m sorry, babe. I’ve been so stressed out about the draft and shit. This is a dream come true for me, but the pressure of it all has me on edge. I don’t deserve you, and I know that. It’s another reason I’m always on edge.

“I see the way these dudes look at you on campus. I might be Mr. Popular, but niggas look at you as a prize. You're beautiful, smart, popular, and full of positive energy. You’re the type of woman a man like me needs on his arm when I’m walking red carpets and crushing records on the court. I want to look out onto the court and see you there, cheering me on while rocking a wedding band.

“All I’m asking is for you to hold it down, Honesty. I’m not asking you to excuse my behavior, but don’t give up on me. I promise it’s all gonna be worth it in the end. You’ll be able to walk around our mansion while the chef and housekeeper take care of everything. You’ll never have to work as long as you’re with me. All I need you to do is look pretty on my arm and give me a bunch of babies. Hell, you won’t even have to take care of them because I’m gonna make sure we have a nanny around the clock.

“I’m trying to spoil you and give you the life you deserve. Just give me some grace and keep loving me the way you do. All I need in this life is your love and loyalty. As long as you give me that, you’ll never have to want for anything.”

I remained quiet for a moment as I took in all of his promises. The life he described didn’t sound like the one I envisioned for myself, but I kept my thoughts to myself since he was still on edge. For some reason, Rondell thought money, status, and lavish gifts were the keys to a successful relationship when it couldn’t have been further from the truth.

What good would all of those things be if it came with a lifetime of cheating, beatings, and empty promises? Money never impressed me, since I grew up with access to whatever I wanted. Money, clothes, and cars sounded good, but I wanted the things money couldn’t buy love, happiness, and fulfillment.

Whenever I tried to discuss my goals and aspirations with Rondell, he minimized them and tried to downplay my dreams if he didn’t think they mattered. When I first told him I wanted to work in fashion and design my own clothing line, he laughed at me and told me I could style him when his real stylist was busy.

The way he disregarded my dreams crushed me in a way I couldn’t explain, and I never brought it up again. Rondell’s dream woman was someone willing to shrink herself and dedicate her entire existence to serving him. I would never be her, and the longer our relationship lasted, the more I realized how incompatible we truly were.

His phone rang twice, but he silenced the call. I already knew it was some bullshit from the way he reacted, but I kept my mouth shut. He made small talk as he headed to one of our favorite chicken spots near the campus.

Rondell knew my order by heart, so he headed inside to grab the food. I thought for sure he would take his phone with him, but he surprised me when he left it in his seat. I wasn’t the type to check phones, but a major reason was that I wasn’t sure if I could handle what I saw.

The line inside the restaurant was packed, but they seemed to be moving pretty fast. I played a puzzle game on my phone while I waited for him to come back. His ringer was off, but his screen would flash each time he received a new message. I fought the urge to look, but after five more minutes passed and several more messages popped up, I decided to take a peep.

Rondell changed his passcode almost weekly, which was another red flag. He claimed his teammates kept messing with his phone, but I wasn’t an idiot. He thought I would try to gain access to it and wanted to make sure I couldn’t.

I glanced up to make sure he was still in line before I grabbed his phone. The phone lit up again as I held it, but I could only see a portion of the message. The contact name upset me, but the contents of the message made me sick to my stomach.

Nasty Eater: I miss you, daddy. I want to taste that dick.

I saw what I needed to see, so I placed the phone where I found it and waited for Rondell to return.

When he got back inside the car, he was bubbly, singing to the music and everything. I held my composure, but I wasn’t in the mood to fight. I just made a mental note of what I needed to do next.

THREE

solomon jackson

“Damn, bro. This shit is cold. It looks even better than I even imagined.” Roddy, one of my regulars, admired the finished product after I finished up with his new piece. He wanted a detailed piece based on his favorite anime, One Piece. I love challenges, and this piece tested my skills as an artist.