Zena denied response to this internal debate, but it reminded her of her first big blowup with Adan, the one
that nearly tore them apart. The two were still head over heels and happily living in the land of puppy love. But, still, Zena had been feeling as if there was a change in her first real boyfriend. They’d been together five months and kept a pretty regular schedule: any waking moment when they weren’t otherwise busy, they were with each other. Their relationship was equally a close friendship and a romance, and so hours together were heartwarming and sweet but also easy and comfortable. When she was with Adan, Zena felt as complete as she could possibly be. It was as if Adan was a part of her, a gateway into her conscious, her thoughts and feelings.
That was why when Adan canceled four hang-out dates in a row, Zena became suspicious. Well, her feelings didn’t begin with suspicion. First she was simply off put by his announcement that he wouldn’t be able to take her to their normal Saturday-morning matinee movie when Zena’s mother was home from work and she didn’t have to watch Zola. They’d been going to see movies each Saturday morning for eight weeks, so it was different but not unimaginable that Adan wanted to miss one day. It gave Zena pause, but she kept it inside and stayed in bed that Saturday.
The next weekend, Adan canceled the movie date and backed out of the roller-skating rink with Zena and the rest of their friends from school. Zena went alone but felt so lonely without Adan, she sat quietly throughout most of the night and went home early. When Malak and her boyfriend dropped Zena off, she stopped at the top of the walkway to her house and looked down at Adan’s house with sad eyes. Forlorn and a little curious, Zena thought to run to Adan’s house and bang on the door, ordering that he tell her what was going on. After all, he didn’t even have a reason for canceling all of these times. He kept saying he was tired or studying. But that was all. Zena decided against running down the street and cornering Adan. She didn’t want to seem like some jealous and insecure girlfriend who couldn’t ever leave her boyfriend alone even to study or sleep.
But then the last straw was a week before her sixteenth birthday. Everyone was heading to the Civic Center downtown to see Goodie Mob, Adan’s all-time favorite group in the world. The day before the show, though, Adan announced that yet again, he couldn’t go, because he had to study. Standing beside Adan’s locker as he got his books together for his next class, Zena scoffed and turned to stomp away from Adan in disgust.
“Wait! What’s wrong?” Adan asked, grabbing her arm to stop her.
“Study? Yeah, right. Study what? I’m in all of your classes, and we don’t have any tests coming up.”
Adan frowned as if Zena was being irrational, and Zena hated that. “I don’t only study for exams. I study to be intelligent,” he said.
“Well, go right on ahead. You be intelligent,” Zena snapped back.
“What?” Adan pushed.
“You love Goodie Mob! Why would you miss their concert?” Zena asked. “Look, are you seeing some other girl? Is that it? Do you want to break up?” The words from Zena’s mouth released some emotional torrent inside of her. She didn’t even know where it came from, but she started crying and shaking and saying things to Adan that she didn’t even mean. Some other kids in the hallway started looking on, so Adan quickly pulled Zena into the classroom beside his locker.
The room was empty and dark. Zena walked over to the window and wrapped her arms around her waist. “Adan, I can take it now. If you want to break up now, I can take it.”
Adan responded with, “What are you talking about?”
Zena turned to him, looking surprised that he wasn’t following. “You keep canceling dates with me. You’re not talking to me. You keep saying you’re studying and sleeping. So, I’m thinking you just want to break up.”
Adan still looked lost, even more confused. “No. Not at all. That’s not it.” He laughed a little, but quickly hid his chuckles. He walked over to Zena beside the window. He opened her closed arms and smiled at her.
“What are you smiling about?” Zena asked.
“I’m smiling because this is funny. Because you think I want to break up with you and what I feel is the opposite,” he said. “Zena, do you want to know why I’ve been canceling on you? Why I’m not going to the concert?” Zena nodded. Adan reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He handed it to Zena.
“What? What’s this for?” she asked.
“I can show you better than I can tell you,” Adan said. “Open my wallet and inside you will find $73.48. All the money I’ve saved for the last month.”
Zena opened the wallet and counted the money. Adan knew the exact amount. “So? Why is that important?” she asked him.
“It’s the money I’ve been saving to take you out someplace nice for your birthday. I asked my father for money, but he said it was important that I saved my own money to take you out. That’s what a man should do. That’s why we haven’t been going to the movies and I couldn’t go skating or to see Goodie Mob—because I want to take you out to a nice dinner for your birthday. Can’t you see? I don’t want to break up with you. I want to be with you. I love you.”
Struggling to erase this sweet memory of the first time Adan said he loved her, Zena was rolling around in her bed like a toddler in the middle of a tantrum. Soon, she gave up on sleep and reached for her cell phone. Thankfully, Adan’s number was not in her phone book, because right then he would’ve gotten a confusing, whiskey-tinged earful about how he’d lied to her that day in the empty classroom.
Instead of phoning her ex with a drunken diatribe, naturally, Zena called her best friend.
“You told that man where I was?” Zena blurted out when Malak answered.
“Hum. I guess this means you saw Adan?” Malak posed the question coolly. “And judging from your voice, you’ve seen Jack Daniel’s, too. I thought it would take you at least a week to turn to the bottle. But I see it’s been what—like eight hours?—and you’re already giving me Diana Ross in Mahogany over the phone. Do you need me to come over there?”
“No!” Zena protested, poking out her lip as if Malak could see it. But her protest wasn’t quite convincing. She needed her best friend with her. She knew it and Malak knew it.
As if she’d heard the opposite, Malak replied, “Okay. I’ll be there in like two hours. I need to get the kids and drop them at my mama’s. And don’t drink all the liquor, either. I want some.”
Zena hung up and covered her face with the first thing she could grasp—some lumpy red throw pillow she kept reminding herself to throw out. The simple satin square matched nothing in her stark taupe and ecru bedroom, and it mostly maintained its residency due to tradition and Zena’s own forgetfulness. In fact, she’d actually forgotten where the little red pillow had come from in the first place, and that was part and parcel of her reluctance to toss it out. She remembered having the pillow on her bed at her first apartment in Daytona Beach. But she didn’t remember how it had gotten there. Didn’t ever remember buying it. Sometimes she imagined showing up to one of her Bethune-Cookman reunions and hearing one of her old roommates ask if anyone had the old red pillow her dead grandmother had made, or something like that. Zena would reveal that she still had the thing, and they would have a good hug before Zena produced the pillow and saved the day.
But right then as the lumpy satin pillow soaked up Zena’s tears and anger, she knew this was all a figment of her imagination. As she pressed the pillow to her face, it pulled her thoughts back. That pillow didn’t belong to any of her old roommates. No one’s dead grandmother had made it with her bare hands. The little stupid pillow was a Kmart Bluelight Special Adan had picked out for Zena’s first apartment two weeks before the start of sophomore year. He’d tossed it into her cart.
“Red? Why did you put that into the cart?” Zena stopped pushing the cart and reached to pull out the red pillow, but Adan grabbed her hand.