TWT3- Sterling Huckabee

I didn't know what a block was. I was raised on well segmented streets. My streets were clean and swept. Middle aged white women were well mannered. My streets had all republicans and we all commuted from the suburbs. On my streets people drank wine with their dinner and the only "beef" was found next to the produce aisle at Wholefoods.

I wasn't in the suburbs anymore though. I'd went to spend some time with my fiancée's family. I'd get to meet them. I ended up getting head from a strange guy who I didn't know and next thing I know the guy is here.

The boy who I had just had oral sex with earlier is right in front of me. We are looking at one another. His mouth drops. He's breathing heavy. He's breathing so fucking heavy right now. Our eyes connect. He had sucked my dick. This was the black boy that had ruined my fucking life. I had cheated on the girl that I was in love with. At first I'm hoping this is some sort of mistake.

"You going to hit this dude or naw?" the other girl asks.

He doesn't even flinch. I look at him. I am about to faint. What the fuck is happening! This couldn't be the same guy! I had to be at the wrong house. We had just come here earlier though. Then I recognize Cheyenne's father at the door. He seems concerned when he sees us standing there.

"You OK?" Mr. Buchanan asks me, "Sterling right. This is my son Michael. You remember my daughter Kenyatta."

Meech was the only member of the family I hadn't met yet. Now that I had met him everything was clear. He still looked the same as when I spent time with him smoking. My stomach is turning looking at him. He is making me sick. I can't believe that I did this with this guy.

"Um..."

Meech shakes his head, "I'm fine. This isn't about me."

I step aside a little bit.

"Sterling, why are you here?" Chey asks.

I look at Cheyenne. He looks at me. He looks back at Cheyenne. I'm praying to God he doesn't say anything before I do. Cheyenne will never forgive me if my brother is the one to tell her what happened between the two of us.

I have to fix this now. I'm struggling to decide what to do at this moment, "Um...Cheyenne...can we talk?"

"What do you want to talk about?" Meech asks, "I'm her brother. You can go through me."

I stand at the threshold of the door and I'm breathing heavy. I know the last thing I should be doing right now is acting tough but I can't help it. Last time I saw this guy he was sprawled out over a bathroom sink begging me to give him my nut. This wasn't exactly how I wanted to continue this situation.

I'm struggling to compose myself in front of this dude. I'm not about to look like some scared white boy or something. I'm not about to be a punk.

"Listen Meech...I don't want any problems. I just want to see your sister and try to explain what I did earlier," I say.

I'm trying to sound calm and mature about this. I knew we were in the hood part of town. I knew this wasn't the safest place but I couldn't look like a punk with these people. They would eat my ass up if I looked scared.

"How do you know my brother's nickname?" Cheyenne asks out of nowhere.

Shit.

My eyes get wide. What the fuck?

"I just told him," Meech replies sounding a little pushy before quickly adding, "Didn't I?"

"No you didn't," Kenyatta responds.

The other sister is pretty but not like Cheyenne, at least to me. She gives me a funky little stare or something.

How the fuck could I slip up like that?

"Sterling. I asked you a question. How do you know my brother's nickname?" Cheyenne asks again, "Do the two of you know each other?"

"I saw his number in your phone before," I state, "Buchanan. Same last name..."

I feel relieved especially when I am able to pull that out of my ass. I can't help but to exhale a little bit when it happens.

The more I am near Meech the harder this shit is getting. I'm struggling to be near him. My palms are sweating. My breathing is getting hard. I was just expecting to get some strange sexual experience or something earlier.

I definitely wasn't expecting it to be anything more than that.

So why the fuck was I dealing with this now.

I shake my head. I need this to go away!

"We should probably let them talking about this on their own," Meech states.

"Boy, what?" Kenyatta asks, "You punking out? Weren't you about to hit him? I guess you scared now you see how muscular he is huh?"

"That's a good idea," Mrs. Buchanan asks, "We should all give Cheyenne some space to talk with her friend. Meech you're staying here right?"

I look back over at Meech. There is an awkwardness with him standing at the door. Cheyenne is still crying but she looks like she is starting to get her bearings at least a little bit. The awkwardness between Meech and I is just getting worse each second that passes though. I need to get away from him! I needed to get away from him now!

I find myself signaling to him shaking my head. He had no idea that I was supposed to be staying at this house as well.

He struggles at that moment, "Actually maybe I should head back to Yusef's..."

"Yusef whole house smells like weed," Kenyatta's says, "He probably just want to go get high."

"Yo shut the fuck up," Meech says.

"You're staying here Meech," Mrs. Buchanan says.

"I'll be in my room," he states.

He walks away at that moment. I notice him watching me.

~

I am invited in the house after a few minutes. Luckily Meech isn't around. I don't even have time to think. Cheyenne's parents are treating me weird. I guess it's because I made their daughter cry. Maybe it's because I'm this suburban white boy in their house or something. I don't know. Either way I'm just sitting in the living room looking like an idiot as Cheyenne takes a minute to compose herself. The parents awkwardly sit on the sofa across from me.

"You're acting weird," Kenyatta states.

She's acting as though she knows me.

"Just had a long day."

"Cheating on my sister can be taxing," Kenyatta states.

"Kenyatta stop it."

"It's OK," I tell the Buchanans, "I deserve everything I get."

"She'll forgive you. She said it was just head," Kenyatta adds in out of nowhere, "Head doesn't mean much. Not when someone looks like you. Because you're PHYNE! Not fine. PHYNE! Lord have mercy. Let me see those muscles again..."

I am laying back in my chair when I swear Kenyatta walks over and squeezes my pecs. I'm shocked by how she does it. She is CLEARLY flirting with me.

"Kenyatta that's enough..." Cheyenne states walking into the room.

"I didn't know they made white boys like this," Kenyatta keeps going, "I'm just admiring girl. Sterling is movie star handsome. He looks like he could play the prince in some Disney movie or something. Who knew these storybook guys would show up on the Southside of Chicago?"

I'm blushing when she says that. Cheyenne's family was amusing to say the least.

"Cheyenne, can you and me talk...alone?"

"Tonight isn't good for me," she says, "I am still getting over everything. Let's sleep on it..."

I shake my head, "I can go to the hotel and we can get breakfast tomorrow."

"No. You can stay here...there's an extra room."

How awkward would that be?

"Cheyenne..."

"No. We've been through worse before. It's not that serious. We have an extra room."

=====================================================================

I can't go to sleep that night. I'm nervous as fuck. I had gotten head from my fiancée's little brother. The thing about it was that I liked it. I liked every moment of it. I had never done anything like that before. Where I came from gay people were known as a left wing agenda. I had no gay friends. I hadn't even met any gay people before.

I was a good person. Or so I thought. I was supposed to be a good Christian gentleman. Yet I enjoyed the head I got. Did that make me a bad person?

I had to admit it to Cheyenne. I just had to tell her.

I wake up in a cold sweat.

Mr. Buchanan had brought me to this room earlier. He was still nice. I had expected something different. I guess I watched too many shows. I expected these guys to be like the Huxtables or something. I hadn't been around too many black people in my life. This place definitely wasn't like the Cosby show. These people were loud and aggressive and different.

How would they react when I explained to their daughter what happened between me and Meech?

I can't get over this.

I go out into the hallway. It's the middle of the night. I end up walking down the hallway into the bathroom. I have no shirt on. I never sleep with a shirt on. Besides it's really hot and it seems like the air conditioning in this house isn't really working.

As soon as I open the door all I see is ASS!

"Fuck!"

The person jumps back. It's Meech. His ass is plump and sits high as though he does 2000 squats a day or something just for kicks. His perky little butt is out of the towel and when he attempts to turn I can see the highlights of a penis before he grabs the towel and wraps it around his waist.

"Fuck can't you knock?"

"Can't you lock the door?" I ask.

"The lock is broken..."

Fuck. I feel embarrassed for calling him out like that. I was sleepy and just happened to open the door without knocking. I had always assumed that locked doors meant no entry.

Meech looks fucking amazing without a shirt on. I can see his dick print through the towel. I can see the plumpness in his ass from the side. Our eyes connect like they did in that tight bathroom. There is this weird awkwardness between us. There is this heavy chemistry that I'm feeling as we stare at one another across this bathroom.

It almost feels...like I'm high again. And it's just from seeing him.

"Yo my fault," I state.

"Yo definitely your fault," he mocks me.

I don't like it. I don't care how sexy his dick print was in the towel. I don't care how his lips are so big. I didn't care how tight his abs were or how his biceps flexed when he struggled to keep his towel tight.

I can't be around this guy. I start to walk away but he stops me.

"What are you doing here?" he asks me.

"Your sister asked me to stay."

"How long?"

"Just the night," I respond.

I shake my head. I had to survive the night with my dick getting harder and harder. Somehow. I look over at his half naked body. This was going to be hard. I mean this guy was sexy as fuck. He was clean shaven so I could see every cut in his body. His nipples were this dark red color. His six pack was cut and veins popped out from his lower abdomen area.

"Fine."

"Wait. We should...talk about this?"

"Nothing to talk about," he says, "I just need to know that you aren't going to start any mess. I need to know you aren't going to tell my sister what happened."

I sigh.

"Then we need to talk," I respond, "Because I'm going to tell your sister it was you."

His mouth drops.

He seems shocked by this, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"I'm dead serious," I respond, "I owe your sister that. I owe her the truth."

"You don't owe her shit."

"We didn't tell the rest of your family yet but we are engaged to get married," I explain to him, "I'm not going to marry someone under falsehoods."

He was looking at me as though he was asking himself what the fuck was wrong with this guy? Where the hell did this guy come from? Mars. He closes the door shut and walks over to the sink to run some water.

He seems very serious, "Listen."

"From a distance," I say putting my hands up as though he's contagious. We definitely didn't need to be all up on each other. It was already clear that shit was awkward between the two of us.

"Listen," he responds, "I get you want to keep it real. I keep it 100 all the time too. Some shit though...you don't keep it 100 with. You already told her that you fucked around. You telling her that you fucked around with another guy is going to put the nail in the coffin. You telling her that the other guy you fucked around with is her brother is taking that coffin and throwing it overboard. Do you love my sister?"

I nod, "Yeah. But that's the reason I have to tell her."

"Are you fucking with me!"" he screams, "Are you fucking with me? Who are you? Jesus? Motherfucker. She doesn't need to know everything. You are going to ruin our lives. I'm saying me, yours and hers. Is that what you want?"

I shrug, "This is hard man. I let you suck my dick. I never even thought about cheating on my girl before. She's pregnant with my kid and I let you suck my dick. I don't even know what that means that I let you do that to me..."

"Don't beat yourself up about it yo. It's nothing. It was the weed."

"It wasn't no fucking weed. Don't patronize me."

"I don't even know what patronize means," he shakes his head, "All I know is you slipped up. It's human. You're probably not even gay."

I'm beyond confused. I realize I'm definitely not the most street smart guy. I had book knowledge out the ass. I made amazing grades. I just got accepted into one of the top graduate schools for god sakes. This was different though. I was about to have a kid. Right now it seems like this whole concept is going right over his head. Was I gay?

I had to figure this out.

"You don't think that makes me at least...bi?" I ask.

"You said before that nothing like that ever happened to you right?" he asks.

"Right."

He smiles and nods, "Well there you go. It's the weed mixed with the fact that you were sexually frustrated. You would have let anyone do it. Man, women. It doesn't matter. Trust me yo. I know someone who has issues with their sexuality. If you are worried that's you then don't be. Straight men have gay sex all the time."

"They do?"

This guy was convincing as fuck.

"Yeah," he responds, "It's not a life changing thing. Matter of fact let's just act as though nothing happened. OK?"

I'm struggling. I don't feel too confident in this. My entire life was on the line. The love of my life needed to know the truth but at the same time I didn't even know what I was. I didn't know what I was up to.

I nod.

"I'll think about it..."

My heart is racing the next day. I am invited to the dinner table. I look over at Cheyenne. The rest of the Buchanan family is sitting around eating.

"You feel better today?" I ask Cheyenne.

She smiles at me. She has the most beautiful smile. I remember the look that she had the first day I met her. I remember how I just couldn't stop talking to her. I couldn't stop getting to know her. It was one of the most exciting days of my life. It's funny when you get to know someone and they have that deep impact on you. What's even stranger was the fact that I had the same feeling meeting Cheyenne's brother in a tight bathroom smoking weed.

"A lot better."

"Can we talk about it?" I ask Cheyenne.

"We don't have to," Cheyenne replies.

"I'd really like to," I tell her.

"It's water under the bridge," Cheyenne says and smiles.

That's the thing about Cheyenne. She just thinks that everything is water under the bridge. I admitted to getting my dick sucked and she wasn't even questioning it. She was such a sweet girl. She didn't deserve someone like me. She didn't deserve someone who was struggling with their feelings.

"Cheyenne...this is serious," I start explaining, "I need to tell you something."

Cheyenne rolls her eyes, "Ok fine. What is it?"

"I've always been different, but I never told you exactly...how different," I explain to her, "Lately I've been having these feelings..."

Cheyenne raises her head, "What kind of feelings?"

Just at that moment Meech walks in the room, "Good morning Sterling."

I wonder how much Meech heard. His eyes pierce onto mine. It's almost like he's trying to remind me of the conversation that we had earlier. The other Buchanans are slowly piling into the dining room as well at that moment. Kenyatta gives me a wink clearly attempting to flirt with me when she walks into the room.

"Good morning," I tell Meech.

"Sterling. You ever had soul food?" Mrs. Buchanan asks me.

I give her a slight headshake, "No ma'am. I haven't."

"He calls me Ma'am. Look how well behaved he is," Mrs. Buchanan says before fanning herself, "And well-mannered too. You got a good one."

It seems as though all was forgiven so fast. Just yesterday their daughter was crying. Now Mrs. Buchanan was filling my dish up with food. Right next to me Mr. Buchanan just sits there giving me an approving head nod.

This was killing me.

Life was all about choices though and I had always chose to be honest. I had always chosen to be truthful. I had always chosen to let the world know all about me.

"Cheyenne I have to get something off my chest," I state.

"It can wait."

"No it can't," I explain.

Meech is giving me a hard stare. He looks like he is breathing hard. He's panicking. He has a reason to be. I wish I didn't have to include him but I have to. I have to tell everyone what happened. I had put everything out on the table. That was just the type of person I was. It wouldn't make sense to Meech. Maybe I wasn't street smart. I just didn't lie. I didn't go out of my way to do shit like that.

"Go ahead," she says.

"Don't," Meech says.

"What's wrong?" Cheyenne asks.

I look over at Meech again. There is that tension. Every time I look at him I feel like I'm attracted to him. I couldn't do this to Cheyenne. I couldn't lead her on.

"I can't be with you," I tell Cheyenne.

"Wh---what?" Cheyenne asks.

"It's not you. It's me. I'm not sure who I am. I told you about the sexual encounter I had. I didn't tell you everything."

"What more would you possibly need to tell me?"

"It was with a man."

Mr. Buchanan drops his fork. Kenyatta's eyes get wide. Cheyenne just stares at me blankly. Meech looks like he is about to break out into tears. He is having the reaction that I expect from Cheyenne. Cheyenne doesn't have any reaction. Right now she just seems completely dumbfounded. I can't lie to Cheyenne anymore. I can't let her believe that something is here when it's not. I can't let her believe that something is happening when it isn't happening.

I can't marry her if I was gay.

"Jesus Christ," Cheyenne says before turning to her mother and frantically saying over, "Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ."

That's not even the worst part.

I take a deep breath, "It was with your brother Meech."

That's when it happens. That's when Cheyenne breaks down into tears. I feel like shit. I feel like shit because not realizing I had feelings for guys until it was way too late. I hadn't even experimented with a man before Meech. I hadn't thought about it really either. Every once in a while there was a little curiosity but nothing more than average. However, since I had gotten with Meech I couldn't take my mind off of him. This wasn't a one-time thing.

I was very much so attracted to Cheyenne's brother.

Meech is struggling to defend himself, "I didn't know. I'm sorry I didn't know..."

"You should leave," Mrs. Buchanan tells her son, "You've done enough."

Meech is speechless. A part of me wants to apologize to him. I watch as this whole family is breaking down right in front of my eyes and there's nothing that I can really do to patch things up. All I know is that I had to tell the truth. I want Meech to respect that. I want him to at least look at that and say that I'm an honorable guy but I also realize I may have just outed him to his entire family. I may have just changed his entire life.

And I don't know if I had the right to do that or not.

"I'll go after him," Kenyatta states, "I'll go make sure he's OK."

Kenyatta leaves the house running after her little brother. A few minutes pass where Cheyenne is just crying there. Mr. Buchanan is shaking his head. The emotion in this room is so thick that I can't see through it. I want to break down but I can't. I'm a man and I have to take ownership of my own actions. I have to face the consequences.

"Cheyenne...I'm so sorry---I'm so---"

I don't expect the slap across my face from Cheyenne until I feel it. It burns like shit. It's not just a physical burn. It's an emotional burn. It's a mental burn.

I'd never forget the disgust of her face when she looks at me.

"Go upstairs. Get your shit and get out of my life," Cheyenne tells me.

I want to argue especially with the fact that she is pregnant. I want to talk to her more and make sure that she isn't just making an emotional choice by saying she wanted me out of her life. Now wasn't the time to confirm exactly what she meant though. Now was the time to get out of her face and give her some space.

I walk upstairs and get my things. I can't get Cheyenne out of my head. I can't get Meech out of my head. He warned me.

He warned me that I'd be ruining both of their lives.

I did it anyway.

I did it because I feel like I had to. Right or wrong. I had to do what I had to do.

I make my way back downstairs with my suitcase but I hear something strange at the bottom of the stairs. It seems like there is some sort of arguing or something like that.

"Where is Kenyatta?" a man's deep voice says, "Where is Kenyatta!"

"We don't know!"

"WHERE IS KENYATTA!"

I'm so confused. I start heading downstairs and that's when I hear it. Why the fuck were they looking for Cheyenne's sisters? Who were these people?

I start making my way downstairs just enough to see these black dudes wearing ski masks. There are two of them.

They hear me coming down the steps and it spooks them.

"Kill `em!"

No...

I start running down the steps as fast I can when the bullets spray out of the gun. My heart is racing when I get down the steps.

All I see is blood.

All I see is blood EVERYWHERE.

"Cheyenne!"

The intruders have taken off. The front door is completely off its hinges. It had been broken in. I struggle to find my cellphone as I realize in the distance that Mr. and Mrs. Buchanan aren't moving. They are just lying on the floor motionless.

Cheyenne is coughing. She has gun shots in her torso. She clutches onto her gut as though clutching onto our unborn child.

"Sterling..."

Her voice is so weak. It's so frail. My world seems to go into all shades of gray. Tears are falling down my eyes when I realizing I can't call the ambulance fast enough. She's grabbing my hand but she can't hold that hand tight enough. This shouldn't have happened. This couldn't have happened. Not here.

"I'm sorry! I love you. I'm sorry..." I say between these hard desperate sobs.

Crying isn't going to save Cheyenne's life. Emotion isn't going to stop the fact that these masked men just came into this house out of nowhere and shot up this family.

What kind of neighborhood was this where you weren't safe in your own dining room?

Her last words are the strangest words I've ever heard before.

"It's ok," Cheyenne says, "It's ok."

Then she turns to the side and dies with her eyes still open...

To read the next chapter in advance go to www.crushedcrown.com