Operation Pinky Swear Chapter 2
Chapter Two: Born This Way
Tamir watched the exchange with a quizzical look on his face and shook his head. Straight guys were so weird sometimes, but he could still see glimpses of the boy he'd fallen for five years ago.
"Sorry about that, but duty called. Now where were we?" Mike plopped down beside him as if nothing had happened.
"What the heck was that all about?" Tamir said, pointing to Mike's friends and the girls.
"Me using the Asthma Kid Opener, disarming the obstacles, and then pumping BT."
"Uh . . . but why'd you give her your inhaler?"
"I used it as a lock-in prop, so I have an excuse to go talk to her later."
"What?"
"I swear, you're totes AFC." Mike pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing, "Me and the crew are pickup artists."
Tamir shot him a puzzled expression as Mike explained he and the Screw Crew went out together to pick up girls using different techniques like he'd just seen.
Tamir's hopes plummeted. "You're straight?"
"Yeah. Aren't you?"
Though he hated to lie, Tamir nodded.
"Cool. What have you been up to?"
"First answer me this: why do they call you B?"
"It's short for Brain, cuz I'm the go-to guy for homework and test prep."
"Okay. Do you remember when we were younger, and we used to hang out?"
"Yeah, why?" Mike's ears went red, and he made an "oh" face before changing the subject. "Why didn't you tell me you moved back?"
"We got back like three days ago and are still unpacking. But what about our promise? You pinky swore we'd keep in touch, asshole." He removed his sunglasses and socked Mike in the arm.
"Like, you could have hit me up, too." Mike grinned, showing off his elongated canines and dimpled cheeks. "Anyways, hit me up and we'll kick it like back in the day."
"Promise?" Tamir's face blushed bright against his pale skin and freckles, which brought out his hazel eyes.
Mike looked around, then interlocked his pinky with Tamir's. "I pinky swear."
They did a one arm hug, then Mike walked away.
He called after him, Tamir's once confident voice faltering.
"Yeah?" Mike looked over his shoulder, hands in his baggy basketball shorts.
"I . . . missed you so fucking much." Tamir's eyes met Mike's. He smiled and then played with his puka shell necklace.
Mike turned around and wiped his hand across his nose.
"Me too, man. We deffo gon hang this summer. And who knows. Maybe I'll get ya laid.?"
"Right. Love ya, dude."
"Same, no homo."
Tamir shook his head. "Right. I'll hit ya up on Facebook later."
"Yeah. And sorry about earlier. Well, later," Mike mumbled and walked away.
Tamir stared after him at a loss for words as he tried to process what the hell had happened. Honestly, he was as queerer than a three-dollar-bill, but he wasn't about to tell Mike that. Not after he just came back into his life.
And he was not telling him he still had a crush on him. Tamir wasn't ashamed of who he was, but he'd just moved back to the mitten and didn't want any drama from homophobic assholes. So, he'd chosen to keep that info to himself for the time being.
Tamir couldn't believe his luck, though. He hardly recognized his Mikey. The boy he knew was gone, and in his place was a beautiful behemoth. No, he shouldn't be thinking like that. Friends only. Besides, he knew better than to fall for straight guys.
But damn if Mike wasn't fine.
He gave Mike a final glance, then busied himself getting some new Jordans and a few pairs of basketball shorts before dipping back to the cut to unpack.
***
Tamir carried a box under each arm, popping open his bedroom door with one arm crutch, then hefted the boxes on his bed. The rest of their stuff would arrive sometime tomorrow, so he'd have to wait to set up his PC, art station, and sewing machine.
From one box, he retrieved a drawing tablet and set to work sketching a design for his next piece: a half-red, half-blue shirt; the red side would have a phoenix while the blue side would have a dragon. It only took him a few minutes to complete the design, then he busted out his trusty sketch book and drafted the dimensions of the fabrics. He'd use the leftover blue fabric from Khalil's Blue Beetle costume from last Halloween. And he'd use the red fabric he had left from making Christmas stockings for his family.
That done, he went to the living room to ask one of the twins to help him put up his posters and framed drawings. Khalil was on his phone while Jahlil watched Sports Center with glazed over eyes.
"Can one of ya'll give me a hand hanging stuff on my walls?" his cheeks burned at having to ask for assistance.
Jahlil turned from the screened and glared. "Busy. Ask Frankenstein over there. He ain't doing shit but texting his weirdo friends, like always."
"At least I have friends I can text about more than sports or who's screwing who."
Rising from his seat, Jahlil stalked over to his twin. "Take that back or I'mma kick your bitch ass."
"Bring it."
Before Tamir could react, the twins were scrambling on the ground, each trying to get the upper hand and make the other tap out.
He let them carry on a minute, then shouted, "If ya'll don't get your ignorant asses off the floor and act like ya got some home training, I'mma tell Mom who really broke her favorite antique Tiffany lamp."
The twins froze at this, separated, and stood. They cut their older brother dirty looks.
"What ya want again?" Jahlil asked as he eyed the TV.
"I need one of ya'll to help me hang stuff up."
"I'll do it," Khalil said. "But ya gotta do my chores for a month."
"Two weeks and I'll won't tell Mom you're smoking again."
"Bet."
As they worked, they talked about the coming school year.
Tamir handed a framed drawing to his brother. "You excited to be starting high school?"
"Meh."
"I know moving sucks," Tamir began.
Scowling, Khalil shouted, "It's not just that. I miss my twin. Ever since Jahlil started doing sports, he's been such a meathead fuckboy."
At this, Tamir paused. "But weren't you the one who wanted to go off and do your own thang?"
"Yeah, but only cuz I was sick of not being my own person. But now it's like Jahlil hates me."
"Ya tried talking to him?"
"Ugh," Khalil grunted. "And have him think I'm some punk who can't function without him? Fuck that noise."
"Language, baby bro."
Khalil stuck out his tongue. "Who ya think I learned it from?"
"Guilty." Tamir laughed. "Don't let Mom or Dad hear ya, or it's that ass."
"Right. My butt's still sore from the whooping they gave me when they found my last stash of cigs."
"Look. Talk to Jahlil. What's the worst that could happen?"
"We wind up beating the snot outta each other?"
"Don't be a smartass. Go talk to him. I can handle the rest myself."
"Fine. But it's your fault if I have to open a can of whoop ass on him."
"Go." Tamir swatted him with a pillow. Khalil rolled his eyes before flipping him off.
With his room 80% setup, he rested on his bed a bit before the alarm on his iPhone sounded. Tamir placed his prayer mat down and began afternoon prayers. Once done, he read the day's assigned surahs, then did his Arabic and Swahili lessons.
After he'd finished his chores, Tamir texted his friends, but they were busy or let him on read. Though his gut told him not to, he texted his ex, Henrick De Beers.
Tamir: Hey
Henrick: I told you not to contact me. I was willing to overlook your being black, but now you're poor? GTFO
Tamir: FUCK YOU!!!1!
He blocked, then deleted Henrick's number and blocked him on all his social media accounts. God, what did he ever see in that racist piece of shit? He should have kicked him to the curb the second Henrick started making comments about his "white chocolate ass" and being "The only Black guy I'd ever date." He'd rationalized it as ignorance, but now saw he was wrong.
All his life, people mistook him for being white because of his albinism. Tamir still remembered how kids used to tease him for having to wear sunglasses and a hat and cover up year-round. Hell, his own family routinely made fun of him for needing SPF 1billion sun block. It wasn't his fault he was born so light, and it didn't make him any less Black, nor did his being gay.
When he'd came out at 14 to his parents, they'd freaked and for a while he thought they'd kicked him out. Slowly, thanks to his grandma intervening, his parents came around. They were okay-ish now, but they still didn't fully get the "gay thing."
Occasionally, they'll try setting him up with girls, but he always declined and told them, "Like my homegirl Lady Gaga said, I was born this way." They'd roll their eyes but leave him alone for a while.
And speaking of being gay, what was up with Mike? Before Tamir and his family moved, he and Mike regularly fooled around. And towards the end, he could have sworn Mike had caught feelings for him. So, what was with the whole "I'm straight" deal? Maybe he was closeted and not ready to come out, maybe he was on the DL, or could he be bi?
Then again, all his gay friends at his old boarding school told him guys can't be bi, only girls could. Maybe he was getting ahead of himself and should slow his roll. Friends first. If they become more, then cool. If not? Then he wouldn't waste his time chasing after a straight guy.
He sent Mike a friend request on his phone, then checked on dinner.
***
When his parents arrived home, they grilled the boys on what they'd done all day. Tamir left out his fight with Mike at the mall and told them he'd mostly finished setting up his room, thanks to Khalil.
"That's good, dear. What about you two?" Their mom said to the twins.
They shrugged, then cut their eyes at each other.
Their dad cut in. "Ya'll better stop acting like you hate each other or I'mma tan your hides."
"I don't hate him," Jahlil began. "I just don't like him."
Khalil's face twisted in disgust. "Fuck you," he whispered.
"What was that, young man?"
"I said fuck you, as in fuck you, Jahlil, for being a douchey piece of shit and fuck you, Mom and Dad, for making me move and leave behind all my friends."
The room went silent. Their dad rose. "Get to your room. You're grounded for two weeks and I'mma be there in a minute to light you up."
"Samir," their mom began, but he cut her off.
"Amira, that boy has to learn he can't pop off his mouth like that to his elders. And you," he said, looking to Jahlil, "are grounded for one week."
"C'mon. I was just keeping it one hundo."
"Keep it up and it'll be two weeks. Now eat your dinner or you can go to your room hungry."
Jahlil mumbled under his breath, but he went silent when their dad threatened to whoop him, too.
Mr. Johnson turned his attention back to Tamir. "Son, I know it's summer break and you're at that age where you want to go off on your own. But we can't be having you running wild in these streets. You remember our deal?"
Tamir restrained himself from rolling his eyes. "Yes, Dad. To keep my jag, I have to drive the twins to and from school and extracurriculars and anywhere else they need to go to."
"What else?"
"And I gotta take you and Mom anywhere you want when ya don't feel like driving."
"Right. But you forgot, the gas is on you."
Tamir nodded. "I got some money coming from commissions that should hold me over awhile."
"Folks pay you to draw stuff?" he said in that condescending tone he used whenever the subject of Tamir's artwork came up.
"Yes, Dad. And I'm good at it. Good enough to go profess--"
"We've been over this. You're going into business, finance, or you'll become a doctor, lawyer, or engineer."
"But I want to do art, start a fashion line, do custom-designed sneakers."
"Not while I'm paying your tuition."
Tamir knew it wasn't worth fighting with his dad, so he ate his dinner in silence, cleared the table, and washed the dishes. Afterward, he logged on to his Tumblr and DeviantArt account and posted he was open to commissions.
If his parents wouldn't pay for college, he'd do it himself.
Too keyed up to sleep, he drew until his eyelids drooped.
***
The movers arrived with the rest of their stuff as they were having breakfast. They wolfed down their food and went to meet them. To Tamir's annoyance, all his boxes were in the back, and he had to wait for everyone else to get theirs. As he waited, he texted his old friends, who let him on read again. But he smiled upon seeing Mike had accepted his friend request.
Once everyone had got their stuff, his parents told him they needed to go shopping to get groceries and new clothes for the twins; they'd had a growth spurt in the last week and outgrew most of their clothes. Pretty soon, they'd be taller than him.
They left him to bring his stuff in by himself and the money to pay the movers. He took this in strides and loaded up as many boxes as he could, balancing them precariously as he crept toward the house.
His eyes lit up when Mike came into view and offered to help him. The day was looking up.
Author's Note: Next time Mike and Tamir catch up and some ish goes down between then. Let me know your thoughts/suggestions at phenix39@yahoo.com.
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