Intersecting Events

Relin Kay

Description

She cared more about that kid then she did about Tam. It was sad that that kid died, but I don't care; I didn't know him. I knew Tam and her life was more important to me. I can't believe she said I wasn't acting like a man. I was acting like a man. How she wanted me to act would've been acting like a coward. A man protects the ones he loves, he'll die for the ones he loves, that's a man. I'm a man, and I'm gonna be a man till the day I die, and no one's gonna change that.

Sujets

• Self-help
• Novel
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: AuthorHouse
• Date de parution: 24 février 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9798823001212
• Langue: English

Extrait

INTERSECTING EVENTS
 
A NOVEL
 
 
 
 
RELIN KAY
 
 
 
 

 
AuthorHouse™
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.authorhouse.com
Phone: [phone]
 
 
 
 
© 2023 Relin Kay. All rights reserved.
 
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
 
Published by AuthorHouse 02/24/2023
 
ISBN: 979-8-8230-0120-5 (sc)
ISBN: 979-8-8230-0119-9 (hc)
ISBN: 979-8-8230-0121-2 (e)
 
Library of Congress Control Number: 2023902982
 
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
CONTENTS
Chapter 1:Good Morning Chris
Chapter 2:Wake Up Omar And Get Some Chocolate
Chapter 3:Just Pee Pee Trish, Then Come Get Me
Chapter 4:Chris’s Wishful Memories
Chapter 5:Omar, What Are You Thinking
Chapter 6:How Trish Do It
Chapter 7:Okay Then Raquel
Chapter 8:Horny Out of Jail
Chapter 9:Omar Has A Rhondaful Day
Chapter 10:Picking up Kim and A Small Order of Side Nigga
Chapter 11:Omar And Raquel’s Difference of Opinion
Chapter 12:Chris: Sadness to a Good Game
Chapter 13:Jason Don’t Be Looking at My Cousin
Chapter 14:Tamara: Trick Him for a Treat
Chapter 15:Better Than Omar Thought
Chapter 16:Meet Kim
Chapter 17:Trish: A Shift in The Action
Chapter 18:Come on Chris, Let’s Do Something
Chapter 19:What In The World Trish
Chapter 20:Omar And Raquel Entering Perfection
Chapter 21:Chris Getting Back on The Grind
Chapter 22:Trish, Pick Me up and Tell Me What Happened
Chapter 23:Tamara Debates
Chapter 24:Chris up In the Club
Chapter 25:Jason! What Are You Thinking?
Chapter 26:Let’s go, Trish
Chapter 27:Time with Quida
Chapter 28:Waky Waky Chris
Chapter 29:Finding Out
Chapter 30:What Happened
Chapter 31:What Needs to Be Done
Chapter 32:It’s Done
Chapter 33:All Over but the Crying

CHAPTER 1 GOOD MORNING CHRIS
I woke up in the morning, startled by a fist of sunlight creeping through the curtains of my bedroom window, punching me dead between the eyes. It was Saturday and like most Saturdays other than those every now and then weekends when duty calls. I felt a sense of relief that I didn’t have to work. I don’t care who you are, how long you went to school, what school you went to, or what kind of job you have. You’re gonna eventually wake up one day in the mood that everyone acquires with time, and from that day on, hate going to work. It’s inevitable. We’re not meant to like working; it’s not intended to be a pleasurable experience. Why do you think God punished Adam with it?
I don’t know where I heard it or if I’m even saying it right, but someone said. “A man will climb a mountain for fun, but as soon as someone pays him to do it, it becomes work.” The way I look at it is, if you want to do it, it’s fun. If you have to do it, it’s work. Work expunges fun. Very few people find pleasure in working every day, five to six days a week, month after month, year after year, with almost no breaks. To those mental cases, I say more power to you. As for me! When I’m off work, I’m happier than Pharrell.
I got out of the bed and walked out of the room, wondering what I was going to do. Should I go work out? Or should I lounge around wasting the day away watching boring movies? Which was, for one reason or another, a usual practice for me on my off days. Well, at least until Tamara comes home and calls to me in that voice that always seems to rejuvenate my pitiful soul.
Tamara! For the last couple of years, she has slowly become my heart, my corridor to a place where life, sex, and love are all the same. Tam. How can one woman cause so much pleasure and, at the same time, so much pain? A pain that she knows exists but will never know the severity of the wounds caused by the bond that was broken in the pursuit of her.
I try hard not to think about what happened, how it happened, or its effect on my conscience. I do feel guilty, though. But why should I feel guilty for falling in love? How is this my fault? I couldn’t hold what I felt, and neither could she. I met her first anyway; he stepped in where he shouldn’t have. Is it guilt, I feel? Or is it remorse from losing someone I care about? Either way, I’m having a hard time letting it go. The more I try to fight, the more I’m imprisoned by thoughts of gaining love while losing the person that has been my best friend and brother since the age of five.
We grew up inseparable. People used to say if you see Chris, Omar wasn’t far behind. If you see Omar, Chris should be hitting the corner in just a second. We went to elementary together, middle school, high school. We even went to the same college. Omar had a basketball scholarship, and my scholarship came from academics. I won three awards my senior year. Two of them were for outstanding student. A small group of us were asked to attend a meeting with several business recruiters. My name was called several times during the meeting by three different executives who wanted to know what I thought. They told me that I had fresh ideas and a go-getter frame of mind. But I needed to develop a dog-eat-dog attitude to survive in the business world.
I had my choice of schools, and it wasn’t hard for me to pick Wayne State after they gave Omar a full ride. Plus, I didn’t want to live too far away from my parents and the church. They needed me. Yep. Go ahead and say it. I’m a church boy, a choir boy, a P.K., the son of a preacher man. Yes, I am, yes, I am. Yes, I am. And not ashamed of it. I sang, I played the organ, I do it all. I didn’t always pay my tithes, but I was there. I support my parents in their ministry, and Wayne State was the perfect solution for doing that and doing what I wanted. It was a win, win. I could do what I needed to at church and still be with my best friend. It’s like Simone in Punta. Hakuna Matata. I didn’t have any worries. Everything was all wrapped up in a nice little packaged area.
I was the nerd out of the group. Omar, he was more of the lady’s man. They flocked to him. I just shook my head, wondering what he was saying to get them so easily. Maybe it’s just his looks. Omar is 6 foot 2 and about 210 pounds. He’s one of those smooth, dark-skinned, lean, supercut dudes that looks good no matter what he has on. He could throw on some old jogs and a T-shirt and look like a model in it. His demeanor is always calm. I think he gets them with his soft, deep voice that seems to somehow carry throughout a room with little effort. He was forever hooking me up, even though I had no trouble with the ladies. Omar just brought me a grade of lady a little higher than I felt I could get by myself.
I miss Omar. I don’t know any other friend like him, or that could ever be as close. Tamara harasses me every now and then about contacting Omar, but she’s not getting it. I broke one of the core rules of man friendship.
#1. Never snitch on your boy, even if he’s cheating on a friend or a family member. You don’t tell. You talk to him about it.
#2. Unless she’s an undercover freak that secretly gives it up to the whole crew. Never bang your boy’s moms. Even if she’s throwing it at you, and he says it’s okay. It’s not okay. He’s not gonna look at you the same after you’ve pounded his moms like a mad man on his first day out of the asylum. He’s not gonna be able to handle it. Especially if you tore it up and moms keep calling you back over. You’re not gonna be able to talk to other women around him without him feeling like you’re cheating on moms or something. I say, don’t do it or stop being friends. There’s only so many times he’s gonna be able to see your car in his momma’s driveway at two in the morning before he snaps.
#3. If your boy calls you and says, he was with you last night. Then he was with you last night and every night from that day forth. So, when his girl calls and tries to question you. He was with you last night. Oh yeah, make sure he has his story straight. You don’t want to be that friend; his girl hates.
#4. The main and most unforgivable rule of all. Never! Never ever mess with your boy’s main girl. You might get away with a side chick or a one-hitter quitter but never the main. Ever! And that’s what I did. I broke a major Manship commandment and did it with pleasure. How can I face him? Especially knowing how things went the last time we saw each other.
“This how we do, mutha fucka?” We’re fuckin each other’s girls now!? Omar shouted as he got out of his car in front of my apartment building.
I jumped into a defensive stance, startled by the roaring words darting at me through the dimness of the setting sun. Seeing that it was Omar, I relaxed physically but remained mentally on guard.
“Omar, man, it wasn’t nothing like that.”
“It wasn’t like what bitch!” Omar shouted with more intense anger in his voice. He clenched his fist, and his eyes turned glossy and red. “This how we do?” He said, gasping as if he couldn’t breathe.
“I didn’t want this to happen, O. I tried to block it.”
“Block it,” he screamed! “Block what? Sneaking behind my back. Or smiling in my face after you’ve been fuckin my girl in the next room!”
“I’ve never