Dear Kasen Jamal,
Your last name means beautiful, or handsome, in Swahili, my language, your language, our language. I still think you are beautiful, both inside and out. You have that full bright smile that reveals a perfect set of teeth, the height that always made me look up to you and drown in your honey colored eyes. The way you always touched my braids one by one and told me you think I’m beautiful and all the sweet things I loved to hear, like on that day, when we were fourteen, before our last soccer match when we were in your room, looking at the rest of the neighborhood, you stood behind me, with your hands hugging me from behind and your head resting gently on my head, and you were talking to me about all the things you love about soccer, and in the end you mentioned that you think you love me, and that we should make it official, but I told you to give me time to think about it because I did feel the same way but I wasn’t sure if my friends would like us together and yet you still held on tightly to me that night. I loved you, that I was sure of.
House number seven. House number ninety-two. Your house. My house. Numbers so far away from each other. I mean your house was one of the first ones to receive a number and mine was well, number ninety-two out of one hundred and seventy two to be numbered. But somehow, my house was right opposite your house. I think it was fate, I still think it is fate, so close yet so far. You wanted an answer to your question, “why?” here’s one, here’s all of it.
***
“You guys literally just changed your sign, when you saw ours,” Krisa said as she walked towards the middle of the two lines we had made. Krisa, or as we call her now, Kris was on the same team as Willow and me, while the other team, standing opposite us was Tiffany, Kazuri and Deeta. We were playing our very popular game, Rabbit, Arrow, Wall. It was kind of like Rock, Paper and Scissors except it was a whole team against another team and we had different hand signs for each word.
“You just don’t want to lose, for the seventh time,” Tiffany, or rather Tiff, snickered as her teammates laughed along with her. They had one of their arms stretched forward pointing at us, while the other one was laying on the chest with the fingers also pointing to us. An arrow.
Kris was now all the way on their side, standing right opposite Tiff, towering over her, hands resting on top of her head, with her fingers forming a V. We were forming a rabbit. Arrow kills rabbit, we were clearly losing this game, why was she fighting? I watched them, curious as to what could even happen; none of them were the violent type.
We all heard the roaring of a truck, then moved off the street, on to the sidewalk and watched it stop in front of what we knew as house number seven. The blue truck with yellow lines drawn diagonally and the words, “Wanna move? We got you!” resting on top of the lines was famous around the city, we all moved in using the same company. I was curious to see who was moving in, opposite my house, next to Willow’s house. Maybe it was going to be our new best friend with tons of new games and toys that we could all share and play with, I thought.
A really light skinned woman of African descent with dark red hair walked out of a gray SUV car that was parked behind the truck, followed by a dark man who had no facial hair, but had a big round belly. We all looked at each other in anticipation, then you walked out with your older brother. Your brother looked ten years older than you, five times bigger than you and definitely way healthier than you. You were a walking stick, with a slightly big head, and tiny arms. I glanced at Deeta for a second, and then we both smiled at each other, then laughed. Before long we were all laughing. Your family entered into your brand new home while our child-like laughter filled the streets.
“He looks like a lollipop. Small body and a big head,” I said and we all burst out laughing at you again.
We met when we were all very young.We called her Deeta then, and now, well we still call her Deeta. She and I were seven years old when we met. We were each other’s first friend in the neighborhood. Krisa, now known as Kris, was seven as well and somehow ended up being one of our best friends, together with her niece, Kazuri, who was six then. I don’t remember how we met, it just happened, could be fate as well. Tiff, my younger sister, was six then and had her best friend, Willow who was six as well and that's how we all became best friends . We had all moved in when we were seven or six years old, and so did you, that was the first time we saw you. We were sixteen or fifteen year old teenagers now and everything else had changed.
My dad had come back from the United Kingdom, after staying there for almost five years, Willow’s parents were getting a divorce, and her father was about to marry another woman, Deeta’s parents just got married after staying together for over fifteen years, Kris’s dad was unfortunately in the hospital, hanging on a thread, and her mum had no more money to pay for the doctors. They hang on our prayers, and support. Kris then moved in with her sister, and that’s how we met Kazuri, her niece. We had all changed schools, names, boyfriends and churches but we hadn’t changed friends. Forever and Always. Always and Forever.
***
“We’ve literally been indoors for seven hours!” Sixteen-year-old Kris groaned as she slammed her homework book shut.
“Mum said we can’t leave the house until we finish one assignment, which clearly none of us has finished, so we shall be in for a while.” Tiff said.
I was dead tired. I didn’t want to move or do my homework. My mother was insane, how could she ask us to finish one class assignment in a day! All our math teachers had given us over ten different topics, from algebra II to calculus to do as homework over our Christmas break. It never felt like a break with all that homework, just another school in a different location.
“I really can’t focus anymore!” Kris groaned, still staring at her closed math notebook.
“We’ve literally just studied for an hour, the other six we’ve been playing games, talking or eating, we need to show that we’ve done something, so you better focus, otherwise we will all be grounded,” Willow told her, then went back to doing her homework.
I looked up from my phone. Willow, Tiff and Deeta were diligently doing their homework, while Kris was now on her phone, and I had given up.
“I’m going for a walk, maybe I’ll be able to focus after I clear my head,” I said, dropping my phone on the table and getting ready to leave.
“That’s exactly what I need,” Kris said, also getting up to follow me.
“You guys really shouldn’t,” Kris and I heard Tiff say as we put on our shoes.
Two minutes later and we were all outside my house, all five of us, going for a walk. Then we saw you. You were wearing a vest, maybe gray, maybe dark blue, and a pair of soccer shorts, and you were going down the stairs of your house into your garage. You glanced for a second in our direction, then kept going down the steps while we walked the opposite direction. As we walked in the opposite direction, I turned to look at you one more time, and there you were, watching us. And the minute our eyes met, we both looked away and walked off.
“It’s so weird how cute he’s gotten, Like his body has grown to fit his head, and now he looks so good!” Willow exclaimed as they all agreed simultaneously. It had now been two years since we last talked and you didn’t understand why.
“At least we made the oath that kept us from pursuing him, because we wouldn’t be friends if one of us was dating him and the rest of us watched in jealousy.” I heard Deeta say as I mentally drew myself back to them. Tiff looked at me and I looked away; it was not just a coincidence that she looked my way; it was a reminder, a painful reminder of a painful oath.
Love. Promises. Trust. Love and promises build trust, build friendship and definitely bring people closer. Deeta promised to be my friend forever, the first day we met. Tiff promised to be there for Willow. I promised to be there for all of them whenever. Promises were made almost everyday, trust and friendship was built, love grew. No greater promise than the one we made when we were eight.
***
“Kasen and I were playing soccer in my backyard!” Eight-year-old Willow squealed as she ran into my house and slammed the door behind her. We were in my living room, on the carpeted floor playing the board game, Monopoly. Even though we had a nice brown round dining table with comfy seats, we always liked the floor. We would all lay on our stomachs, around the board and play. I was winning and definitely the happiest of them all.
“We’re in the middle of a serious game!” I said, turning to look at the board after briefly looking at her.
“It’s not fair, Willow has an advantage because he’s her neighbor,” Tiff complained as she got up and the rest followed to gather around Willow. I was the only one who was still seated next to the green monopoly board.
“It’s so weird how we all thought he was ugly a year ago and now we have a crush on him, WE ALL LIKE HIM, LIKE ALL OF US, THAT’S SO WEIRD!” I yelled, still on the floor, and they all moved aside to form a circle that included me.
“I watched this movie where all the girls liked this one boy and they fought over him and they broke up,” Kris said looking at each one of us.
“I don’t want to lose any of you because I love you more than I love him.” Deeta said as she extended her arms and hugged Tiff.
“Let’s make an oath then, if there’s a boy who we all like, none of us can date him, do we agree?” I asked, still on the floor, holding the monopoly money as I looked up to them. They all agreed as they hugged each other, I was still on the floor, watching them.
That oath stopped us from doing all the silly things we did in secret for you. We were kids but we felt like we did know what love was, we thought and felt like we loved you. We sang songs for you, made stupid little dances, always talked about our wedding scenerios with you, and all the things we saw in movies. We all gave you up together even though none of us really had you at the moment.
***
It was around sixty seven degrees out at noon, the perfect weather for being outside. We were on the “soccer field” - The concrete road between our houses, where passing cars disrupted our soccer matches often, where we had to pause the game to get the ball from under a parked car, or the trenches nearby, but none of that stopped us from playing soccer together. We always played against the boys in the neighborhood, and we lost all the time. We were all thirteen or fourteen at that time, still together; forever and always. Always and forever.
It wasn’t a proper field with green grass, white lines and an actual netted goal post, but we played the proper way. We always started the game by each team member standing opposite the other and shaking each others hands before the commencement of the game. You were standing opposite me, staring at me and I looked back at you, with fear and affection. It was the day after you said, you think you loved me honestly, and how could I not? You had a toned body, a small smirk on your face, perfectly set cheekbones, but most of all, you were the kid who taught me how to play soccer, how to game, how to boil noodles, how to not do my homework because we had to go play at sunset. You made me your best friend for almost five years now and we kept our feelings and rendezvous hidden from all our friends for two of those years. We both knew what we felt for each other, it was that clear; for you, but I had so many other things I had to look at before making the decision.
“Let us mix the teams this time, and give each team an equal chance of winning,” you suddenly said, not taking your eyes off me. We were all startled. We never played soccer for the same reason. You and your boys loved playing it because you would always win, and we just loved playing soccer because it was one more thing we could do together. We were on different pages, but when you suggested that somehow we all agreed to try to mix up the teams.
Except we didn’t really mix them, I was the only girl on your team, and you gave my best friends a couple of your worst players but that was it, not much blending and mixing was done.
I loved playing with you that day. Having you on my team, having you call out my name to pass the ball, having to cheer with you when someone scored. It felt good to win. It felt better when at the end of the match you hugged me for a couple of minutes, congratulating me for a job well done in front of everyone. I drank every scent of you, and for the first time I just wanted time to stop at that moment. We talked, laughed and played together, just the two of us,for the rest of the day. I didn’t even realize that I had not said a single word to my best friends after the match, until I went home that evening.
They were all seated in their usual places in my house when we were watching a movie. Tiff and Kris were seated on the long couch in the living room, while Willow was on the single person, and Deeta was on the resting chair, and next to her is where I always sat.
“So you have a new boyfriend?” Tiff questioned with so much bitterness in her voice.
“You literally ditched us for him, do you not remember the oath?” someone else asked.
“Are you really going to throw away this friendship for him?”
You know how when you’re in a dream, and your head starts spinning and getting dizzy, and everything around you is spinning and swirling and moving around in circles and you want it to stop but you can’t because you’re also not in the best state? That’s how it felt at the moment. All their questions and accusations.
“We’ve decided we won’t play soccer anymore, so you can decide if you want to be our friend or betray us.” Tiff spat out as the rest agreed.
I chose them.
Words. Sentences. Phrases. Whoever came up with the phrase, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me,” said the dumbest thing ever. How could an oath I came up with, my own words destroy me this much. I made the choice to drop soccer and never hang out with you when I was fourteen, and throughout the years, no decision has killed me more than that. I avoided you with all the power I could master within me. In case you’re wondering; it hurt, more than I can ever put in a paper. We all stopped hanging out because you got mad at me and you and your boys cut us off. I had made a promise, and I had to keep it. I know what I felt for you was strong but I loved them, and I had to choose them.
All we ever did after that for the past years was exchanged glances, some questioning, some annoyed and other times you went as far as rolling your eyes at me. It must have broken your heart to be left high and dry, with no explanation. It broke me to know you’ll never hear why, you’ll never be able to talk to me again because even when I did try you would just walk away. It was true what I heard from your friends, you hated me.
I was seventeen years old now, three years since we last talked, and it still hurt the same. I was outside your door trying to knock but quickly putting my hand back to my side every time it almost came in contact with your door. Your maid opened the door and found me almost walking away, and I requested for you and she went to get you and came back without you.
“Could you tell Kasen, I passed by to say goodbye, I leave for America in two days,” I told your maid. I was at your doorstep and I could clearly see you on your couch watching TV, even though you told your maid to say you’re not home.
In movies, when you think the story ends in heartbreak, and the boy and the girl will never get back together, then a single simple event happens and it changes their ending to a “and they lived happily ever after.” I was going down the steps leading to your gate, hoping you’d call my name, say you’re sorry and we could maybe try to make things work out because all my best friends had boyfriends, but you let me walk away that night, and it broke my heart all over again to the point I was glad to leave because then I could just start life all over again without the feeling of regret looming over my head like darkness in the night. Your very last word to me was “why?” There’s your answer. Because I made an oath when I was seven years old.
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