ASK SOMEBODY, RULES OF LOVE FREE PREVIEW
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In this coming of age story, Zoe “Simone” Masequai has many lessons to learn. She came from West Africa to America at a very young age with her parents and younger brother. After moving the family to West Philadelphia, her father abandons them. Zoe’s only cultural links to her homeland and traditions are her mother and extended family. Despite her Liberian roots, she is often made to feel as though she is too American. This leaves her in a constant search of her true identity. This lack of self awareness and love causes her to try to fill the void that her father left with various young men she encounters. In the midst of this painful journey, Zoe leaves home in search of popularity and love. She finds herself at University of Maryland Eastern Shore. She meets and befriends several colorful characters including some of the most sought after men on campus. She plans to become the “It Girl” by any means necessary, but will she become everything that she despises. Follow Zoe as her vision is clouded by betrayal and greed. Just remember: If you don’t know Zoe Masequai, you better Ask Somebody!
ASK SOMEBODY A NOVEL BY KAMAH ALICIA SCOTT
The day had arrived and the hot June afternoon had my upper lip sweating. I was graduating from Overbrook High School and I was one irritated young lady. There we were standing on a hot ass stage shifting left to right singing the popular Mariah Carey hit Hero. I thought that we would at least change the song since that was the same song they sang at my cousin Marie’s graduation from Overbrook High School and she was four years older than I was. Our choir director Mr. Simmons felt it was appropriate. He would tell us we were all heroes in our own right. There were a few silly bitches crying. I didn’t get what they would actually be missing. All I could do was count down the time when the ceremony would be over. Conceited Raina Ashby was all hugging onto slutty Kiara Randall like they weren’t going to Cheyney U. together. I sucked my teeth. High school was over and I was so overjoyed. I didn’t give two cents about the teachers, the school or the student body. The only tear anyone would have gotten me to shed would have been if they told me I had to spend another year hear. That was impossible because my grades were the bomb. People that hate their school really do all they can to get out. The dummies were the ones that cut. I think they loved it. The more you cut, the more your ass would fail and I wasn’t playing that. I was just excited to be departing, leaving, and saying peace out.
Katrina Samuels
Today was a good day despite the fact that I had to start it off bright and early by cussing out Mr. Receptionist/DJ at 7:00 in the early morning. I told him that he would not disrespect me. I guess he couldn’t see my point. He kept calling me about closure this and closure that; he got upset and started cussing. The way he was carrying on, he had me thinking he was a woman in his past life. I thought we women needed the closure.
“Don’t call my phone again and I can go where I please.” I meant it. I met good ole Mr. Receptionist/DJ on a lonely Saturday night. I never club but decided why not. My eight-month steady, Sean, had just kicked me to the curb. I had just had an abortion, was on the rebound and found out that my ex-boyfriend was now a major producer. I knew I should have kept that baby. I met the DJ who had just gotten over a bad breakup himself. Two rebound motherfuckers is never a good mix. There is just too much clinginess on both parts and both of us were paranoid of the other doing us dirty like our exes. The relationship was destined to fail. We both were cheaters. Well I don’t have any proof DJ cheated but I would bet my left eye on it and Lawd! knows I’m too stylish to rock an eye patch.
Mr. Receptionist/DJ thought I cheated on him with his half-brother Jeffrey when in fact I didn’t cheat on him with Jeffrey. I had no clue that those two were even related, especially since Mr. Receptionist/DJ was tall, black and athletic and Jeffrey was short and looked like an ex- member of Manudo. They were half brothers but there was no resemblance except for one thing but you can’t go around saying men are related due to the size of their captain below. Besides, I had sexed Jeffrey only one time and that was in the early stages of my relationship with Mr. Receptionist/DJ. You know…. It was that gray area. You don’t know where the relationship is going and you want to get all extracurricular lust out of your loins before you get serious. Who knew that I would be invited to the family reunion. I knew I shouldn’t have accepted DJ’s invitation. Who knew the family reunion would be the end of my relationship with Jackson, my first formal meeting with the Miller-Rodriguez’s and my first team effort beat down. I only call him Mr. Receptions/DJ out of spite. Jackson told me that they didn’t even get along but there was U.N.I.T.Y. when it came to rolling on me. I should have known something was up when everyone began to point at me and I wondered why I recognized “Jose.” I remember the look on Jackson’s face. He never so much as frowned at me before. Now he was scowling. Silly me thought he was playing some type of cutesy game with me. So, I frowned back, made a face, crossed my arms and stuck out my tongue. NOPE!!! It wasn’t a game when his fat ass sister Tamika slapped me in my face and started screaming whore, whore, and whore. “You fucked Jeffrey? You nasty bitch. I told my brother to cut your sorry ass off a long time ago” Tamika screamed.
I think the pure shock stopped me from defending myself. Who in the hell was this four-inch new growth overdue micro-braided classless hussy talking to? I was looking around confused like I just got out of a car accident and didn’t know where I was. Discombobulated like Karen says when she speaks about the confused and disorganized parents at her son’s school. “What? I don’t know any Jeffrey” Who is Jeffrey?. Shit, we had to come to some type of understanding. I didn’t know any Jeffrey. Sure enough, there goes “Jose.” My eyes get big.
I guess payback is a bitch. Karma will bite a ham-sized portion out your ass. I guess it was my payment. He wasn’t a big time entertainer. He was no corporate lawyer, he wasn’t even in sales. He had tried broadcasting school and what did he get? He is currently working a radio station, not on the air or anything, he is answering the phones. A male receptionist, imagine that shit, that’s one step above the street team and even they get more props at least they are seen. Working with him had been okay despite his emails and notes. I just wanted him to get over it. He kept our relationship under wraps though. I can respect him for that. At least he didn’t put my business in the streets although I definitely deserved it. I sat back and thought about it. Karma Scharma. What’s the worst that could happen? I would just have to battle Karma more. The fight will have to continue. Maybe I wouldn’t win but I will go down fighting. Everyone can’t be like Michelle and live in Naive Land. She swears Stanley is faithful but I know that man cheats. All men cheat. She calls me bitter but I’m not. I’m just real.
Smile: Jackson Miller
Shoot, I never imagined that I would end up wanting, actually yearning to give a brother some based on his mouth alone. Imagine that! While sitting, trying to concentrate on my work that mouth was not letting me. It kept smiling on that face that it belonged to. Teeth pearly white, perfect, you would have thought that the brother had dentures. I wanted to ask him what type of toothpaste he used. Was it that local drug store brand or did I have to order it from a specialty store? Was his toothbrush curved? Did it have ridges? I am laughing now at how excited I had been, tapping my foot and trying to squeeze my legs together. Tense, squeezing, rocking in my chair as I tried to think of something less tantalizing like the dust that was lining my keyboard, or even the dirty ink that remains on crumpled papers when my some-timey printer would jam. It wasn't working. My eyes drifted from his teeth to his tongue and you know where my mind was wandering off. I wanted to pretend no one else was around, pull him close and... suck on his lips. Hell, I wanted to lick his teeth and watch them gleam, kiss his chin, pull his eyes into mine and just hold him. I was being bad as usual. I wanted to put these thoughts out of my head of course but something wasn't letting me do it. Like I said, I had a yearning. Rule number one would play into my head constantly. Never date or screw for that matter, anyone at work a lesson I’ve failed once before.
I had to admit it though, I swore our eyes locked or maybe he was just being nosey. Whatever it was, it wasn't love, or lust at first sight. Now I have had both. Love and lust at first sight but this was different. It was a peculiar feeling. I wanted to learn more about that smile. I really didn’t care to let that mouth talk to me on all levels. When he would come around me, I would try to avoid that mouth, but I would find myself there. Just looking, at it, watching the lips curl up into a smile, and getting my reward, those damn pearly whites. Don't get me wrong, the face attached to the mouth wasn't bad but that was not where my interest lie. So I sit working, contemplating, thinking up ways to get that mouth to smile at me, so I can see those pearly whites and imagine our mouths together, kissing, licking.
After a while, I could not help but smile. I wasn’t able to control my dirty thoughts. So what would appear as a friendly smile to the face that owned that mouth and those teeth, were really some freaky sensual thoughts that I knew I would have to share eventually. Therefore, I play this game. Doing what I can to get that mouth to speak to me. So, I can watch those teeth. So that I can imagine those lips and soon get that kiss… which I needed. My thoughts were interrupted. “Thank you for calling 88.7 WYES. This is Jackson Miller speaking. How may I connect your call?”
Karen Santiago: Computer Love
I was never one to quit but this relationship has taken a toll on my very being. I stared out the window watching the rain spew from the sky. I could see Mr. Charles Levito’s old rusty truck parked lopsided, one car behind his wife’s brand new Escalade. That truck was just as rusty as he was. Even when he got dressed for his mason balls and what-have-you he still looked rusty, brown, and lanky crooked smile in a beautiful suit. His wife or his queen, that woman was every bit of 65 at the least and dressed like she was 28. She wore her Juicy Couture sweat suits when going to the gym and carried the latest bags when going on her lunch dates. Of course, these dates did not include Mr. Levito. He was probably at one of their many properties fixing a radiator or a door. He prided himself on the fact that out of all of his duplexes, he was the maintenance man for all except one. His son Christian handled the one on Brook Wynn Lane because it wasn’t too far from him and his wife’s house.
Mrs. Marcy Levito was a striking woman in her late 60’s. Her milk chocolate skin and perfectly rounded Afro was chestnut. She wore makeup but not like the old women that packed it on or used the wrong color. Not like those ladies that reminded you of children playing in their mother’s vanity. No, not Marcy Levito., she had it going on to say the least. She wore her charcoals when needed, her browns, her light pinks in spring. She was a class act. She loved her husband dearly. I would see her on many occasions running out the house in house slippers when Mr. Charles would forget his old fashioned lunchbox. He was so simple. No matter if Mr. Levito was about to pull out of a parking spot, or just started warming the car, the sight of her always made him mosey on out the truck taking out one foot, head hung down, would make you think he was counting to 5 and then pulling himself up to hug her first then to grab his box. I had even caught him pinching her behind a time or two.
I wanted to be in love like the Levito’s. They both had two separate lives but they were still on the same page. Terrell and I were not on the same page. That’s why our divorce was inevitable. All he wanted to do was work and work; overtime must have been his first middle and last name. I never got a chance to see him. After our great big romantic wedding, reception and vacation in Barbados I thought I was set up for a life of love, honor and respect. That is the exact opposite of what I had gotten.
Terrell had been distant and it’s not as if I didn’t see it coming. I did. No matter what I did, nothing seemed to get him to pay me any attention. I cut off all of my hair once. I mean I went from hair in the middle of back to barely shoulder length. Terrell didn’t notice. The next week I changed the color. Still, nothing. Terrell didn’t notice. I started feeling like why am I here. I had gained 40 pounds with our son. I had lost all but 10. I had even joined the gym. The same gym I would see Mrs. Levito going to, leaving her home with her rusty husband’s kisses on her mind and contentment and joy in her heart. I had abs, glutes, you name it.
Terrell remained un-fazed. I knew he was seeing someone. That wasn’t fine by me. We lived in modest 4-½-bedroom house. We set up the middle room as an office/lounge area. I said we when I should have said he. All Terrell ever did when he got home was take off his work boots, throw his coat on the coat rack, get his meal, already prepared by yours truly, that was always cooked before he had gotten home. He would retreat into the office. He would spend the better part of the night there on the computer claiming to research government dollar houses in the area. He would soon soak in the bath I would make for him around 9:30 before settling in for the night. We were sleeping in double if not quadruple negatives. No hugs, no kisses, no touching. No nothing. We hadn’t been speaking for maybe a week and a half. It all started because he and I were supposed to have a date.
Since we are living in the world of negatives at 6221 Honey Lane, it didn’t happen.He didn’t get in the house until around 9 o’clock. I was pissed. His mother had Darryl since three that afternoon. She had cancelled her card game to watch her grandson so that we could have alone time. I decided to give Terrell space and try to make sure my hair was okay. I hadn’t even asked him where he had been. He normally got home around 6:15. Here he was almost a whole 3 hours late. I didn’t whine or complain at all. I sat around, called my best friend Teresa and chatted with her for some time. I hung up, my nerves still frayed. I walked up the stairs, and is he ready? No! Was he planning on getting ready? No! What is Terrell doing? He is in the office playing on the computer.
I walked into the office. My slinky black Nicole Miller dress on. Its form fitting, booty out, breasts looking like full round cantaloupes. I say hello to him. I sway over moving my hips hoping his peripheral vision catches all this booty swaying because he damn sure isn’t looking my way. I ask him how his day was. We have normal conversation. After about 10 minutes I ask him
“Are you getting ready?” His response... “I don't feel like doing anything. My fingers hurt. My arms hurt. I don’t feel like doing nothing.” All the while his supposedly hurting fingers and arms are not hampering his ability to click the mouse, type, and click away. I was clearly irritated. He knew it. He did not move his eyes off the screen.
“So… we're not going out? What happened to you telling me how we're going to go out and have a good time because we haven't been out in a while?” I was staring at the plug on the computer. I got so angry I went over to it and yanked it out of the socket while turning around to look in his direction. I swore I had seen a picture of a woman. Our relationship had become stagnant. He said nothing. He looked at me shifting his eyes up and down my body and then back to my right leg. I realized he was not staring at me. He was staring at the socket. He pushed a button and turned the monitor back on. I had only removed the monitor. I heard the click. The same sound the television makes when turned on. Before the picture showed up, I pulled the other plug out. “Terrell if you didn't want to go out you should have told me. I wouldn't have gotten dressed and I could have stayed home and finished watching the Whisperer.” I liked that show. The main character communicated with people who haven't crossed over just like my marriage. It was dead but just hadn’t crossed over. Terrell said nothing. He stood up walked towards me. I flinched. I still don’t know why, maybe it was a precursor to what would happen later on in our relationship. To that point he had never put a hand on me. He smiled. He pulled me close and kissed me hard on the mouth, whispered that he was sorry and that he would be ready in 20 minutes. I felt like I won. However, the truth was he won. Again. Every time his bronze face would brush up against my cheek and I would feel his body next to mine I would get butterflies. I felt like we were meeting for the first time all over again. I felt vulnerable. I felt like he loved me again and like our house would not be the quadruple negative land. It would be filled with positive energy. We were on the same page. I was so into my husband that I blew off the fact that he smelled like Dolce & Gabbana Blue Jeans. My bottle ran out more than a month ago and I hadn’t gotten a new bottle since. It took longer than 20 minutes for him to get ready. He appeared again and I frowned. I looked him up and down. He was still in his work boots, dingy bleach stained work jeans and sweaty ass shirt. I was pissed.
“Aren’t you going to change?”He looked at me annoyed. He rubbed his head, put his right hand on his left shoulder and stretched. “What do you want Karen? I said I am going. What does it matter what I wear? The food will still taste the same.” Arrrgh!! I freaking wanted to slap him. “Look at you. You look cruddy. I don't want to go out with you looking like that.” I began to cry and tried not to smear my makeup that was already hours over due for dinner anyhow. “You can’t justify this Terrell, it’s not like it’s the last minute.” “Baby” he said. “Let’s just run out and grab something to eat. I had a rough day at the shop.” “But this is a scheduled date” I cried wringing my hands and cursing under my breath. He finally looks at me, smiles again, and goes into our bedroom mumbling.“Whatever! Please don't even bother changing. I don’t' want to go.” “You already got me off the computer” he said through the wall. “I’m out the mood besides De Crimson closes at eleven and it’s a quarter after ten.” “You annoy the hell out of me Karen.” He had a lot of nerve. “Be annoyed Terrell”, I said and slumped down into his chair.
I hated the computer. I wanted to scratch up his flat screen and throw water on his keyboard. “I don't want the old ass shrimp they hurried to cook cause the kitchen is closing.” This night was supposed to be special and my husband who loved his computer more than me didn’t care. I can’t lie and say I was not happy to see my man looking dapper in his black suit and charcoal gray shirt when he appeared again. He looked sexy. He wore the first two buttons open. He was wearing the Hugo Boss cologne that I had gotten him for Father’s Day. He was distinguished. Who would ever think he was a mechanic. Although Terrell owned his own shop and had two of his brothers working for him, he still did a lot of the work. He was a hands-on type of man. I smiled at him weakly, retrieved my purse and walked out the door. I would have the old ass shrimp.
*****************************************************************
Terrell had me wrapped around his finger. However, tonight would be different. As I lay in the bed pretending to sleep and counting down the time, I was furious for many reasons. I contemplated packing up one day, taking my little Darryl, and moving. I wondered if Terrell would notice. Would he only miss us after he realized that his dinner wasn’t ready or if his bath wasn’t steamed and ready for him. I hadn’t cooked dinner for 3 days before this night. It did nothing. Terrell simply took off his work boots, hung his coat and grabbed the family size bag of Doritos and the chicken from Sunday night. He followed his same routine and even ran his own bath water. I cried myself to sleep. I woke up to go the bathroom. I rubbed my eyes and stared at the alarm clock. It was a sleek new model Terrell had brought home.
He said he would rather wake up to music rather than hearing the loud obnoxious buzz that the alarm clock I had gotten him made. He was right. I would rather hear music and the morning show being as though Terrell stopped talking to me. I was living as if I were a mute. In my own house, with my husband who claimed he loved me so much, but never touched me at night. That didn’t roll over in the morning with a hard-on waiting for me to satisfy his desire. I was a mute. Karen the mute. I peered over his shoulder and saw that it was exactly 12:45 am and 36 seconds. I didn’t bother to be too quiet.
Once Terrell was sleep, he was asleep. He was one of those folks that had to have someone pinch him or play something loud to make him wake up. He was also one of those that got up angry. As long as I wasn’t blowing a foghorn or playing a tambourine he was okay. I stretched again. My back in a cramp trying to stay on “my side” of the bed. I walked into the office, flicked on the light and gingerly took a seat. It took me two tries to figure out Terrell’s password. I put in little Darryl’s name and voila. Just like magic. I scrolled through the emails. The total was 60 messages. There were a few from his brother Aaron, and a few from his cousin Trina. There were more than 40 from Sweetchocfem69. I was pissed. I read through email after email. I went into his chat log. Sure enough there he had saved conversations as well. My heart began to beat as if out of my chest. My relationship was stagnant because Terrell was seeing someone else.
Sweetchocfem69. BigdkRel says: I had a dream about you last night. Damn I love the visual that mirror gave me... It’s burnt into my brain.
Sweetchocfem69: Oh really lol! Tell me about it.
Sweetchocfem69: Tell me, tell me. BigdkRel says: More liked visual snapshots. From the view of you from the mirror to the HEAT in the truck after happy hour…
Sweetchocfem69: any handcuffs?
BigdkRel says: the feeling of tension right before I kiss you … the pain in my groin when we finally do… the taste of your lips. The tongue … the smell of your body and the warmth inside you... The way you wiggle when I touch your back...
Sweetchocfem69: I feel weak, very warm right now.
BigdkRel says: looking up at you when you’re on top…
Sweetchocfem69: I LOVE it when you touch my back
Sweetchocfem69: I love it when you kiss me
Sweetchocfem69: I LOVE how you kiss me
BigdkRel says: Feeling how deep inside you I am
Sweetchocfem69: I love the way you look at me
BigdkRel says: I love to feel you explode with me inside you…
Sweetchocfem69: pappppiiiiiiiiiiiii
BigdkRel says: what are you wearing. Can I hide under your desk?
]Sweetchocfem69: wet thongs
BigdkRel says: can I open your legs wide and stick my tongue inside.. Can I kiss the inside of your thighs and move myself above you can I slide into you slowly and feel every inch of myself inside you… kissing your neck…
Sweetchocfem69: only if you let me touch you and kiss you
Sweetchocfem69: and lick the tip of your … and suck it until its rock hard and play with your nipples, lick your balls and kiss your back rub your shoulders as you slide inside me.. Whisper your name in your ear as you slide inside me, grab the sheets as you stroke me… wipe the sweat from your forehead .. Kiss your lips. As you make love to me. Whooooooo!!!! I need a cold glass of waterBigdkRel says: DAMN I MISS YOU…
.BigdkRel says: I think I need 10 minutes after IM-ing you.
Sweetchocfem69: I can't get up right now
Sweetchocfem69: I think I’d fall BigdkRel says: I would catch you
Sweetchocfem69: papi I’m lonely
BigdkRel: I hear ya…BigdkRel: can you wait for me or are you going on the prowl this long weekend?Sweetchocfem69: I’m WAITING for YOU
I was overwhelmed as my eyes moved right, to left, reading the words. There was so much adrenaline running through my body. I began to shake. I sat there not even caring if he awakened to catch me sitting there staring at the screen. What was going on here? Had Terrell actually slept with this woman or was this mere fantasy? Was I losing my mind and jumping to conclusions? I rubbed my eyes and closed them for a moment. I tried to sit perfectly still. Although I had not been performing any type of exercises, it felt as if I had run six miles and was coming around onto my last lap. I exhaled, inhaled and tried to monitor my breathing. I was having a panic attack. The last time I had one of these was when I learned that little Darryl had broken his arm at his old daycare center. I felt the tears running from my eyes. I clutched the side of the desk for support. Terrell had betrayed me. I was not overreacting. I was positive that this was not a fantasy conversation. The amount of email messages were way too many.
This was his online affair and I was for sure that this was not an incredulous assumption on my part. I calmed myself and chuckled at the moniker he had selected. I laughed at the note of how he could go all night. Who was he fooling, it was definitely an exaggeration. I never told Teresa of Terrell’s shortcomings. I had only told her that he was being distant. That was my rule. I never believed in kissing and telling, so Terrell’s shortcomings was my business. This sweetchoc woman could not have engaged in any virtual lovemaking with my husband. The three-minute act definitely could not warrant the countless emails. It was definitely the anticipation that kept this bullshit going. It would be a wrap soon enough. I scrolled through other and marked the most recent email as unread. I was still heated. The mother fucker had a lot of nerve. I crawled back into bed with my chest still heaving, still angry, waiting for his new sleek alarm clock that woke him up with music to buzz him awake.