Free Torn Between Two Lovers by Carl Weber Page A

believe me, I knew she was home.
    Call me obsessed, but I always knew what his wife was up to. Neither Big Poppa nor his wife knew it, but I kept track of their Facebook pages like they were my own. That woman friended me and she didn’t even realize who I was. It’s amazing just how careless people are about giving up their personal information on social networking sites like Facebook, MySpace, and Twitter. An hour before Big Poppa showed up at my door, she’d updated her status to say she was watching a Lifetime movie in her big, comfy bed. Chick movies—no wonder Big Poppa took the opportunity to get out of the house.
    Speaking of Big Poppa, he was full of surprises tonight. As I was walking up to the window to pay Ron’s bail, I received an unexpected call. Why the hell Big Poppa wasn’t in bed snuggled up next to his wife by now, I don’t know. Most of the time after we had sex, it took him a day or two to call me if I didn’t call him first. I should have just hit the IGNORE button on my phone, but like I said before, I just couldn’t say no to the man.
    â€œHello,” I said groggily, as if I had been sleeping.
    â€œWhere the hell are you?” No mistaking his attitude; the man was pissed about something. I strolled toward the exit to continue the call outside, because it felt like this conversation was about to get serious.
    â€œI’m…I’m—” I was about to say I was in bed, but I had my own suspicions about this call. Had he doubled back to my house and found I wasn’t there? Jesus, I hoped not. “Why? Where are you?” I tried to throw it back at him.
    â€œJerome, don’t play games with me. I called your house phone five times. I know you’re not there. Now, where the hell are you?”
    Shit! This was going to be a problem. While I was flattered that he was finally showing interest this way, why couldn’t he have waited until I helped Ron straighten out his dilemma? I mean, I’d waited all this time for Big Poppa to show that he cared; another week wouldn’t have hurt. I had to remain on the defensive.
    â€œI stepped out for a minute. Is there a problem? What’s up?”
    â€œStepped out! At six o’clock in the morning? Where the fuck are you? With some nigga?”
    â€œNo, not exactly. I’m helping out a friend.” I tried to act like it was no big deal, but this was huge. Big Poppa and I had had our share of arguments, but I’d never heard the anger that I was hearing in his voice. He knew I had sponsors, and he’d never expressed jealousy before.
    â€œHelping him out? How the hell you helping him out? With a blow job? I knew you were acting funny all night, trying to rush me out of there all fast and shit.”
    â€œLook, if it’s any of your business, I’m bailing out a friend who got arrested.” Hey, you know what they say: nothing better than the truth. Except that Big Poppa didn’t believe it.
    â€œYou fucking liar. What’s wrong? All of a sudden I ain’t got what you need?”
    â€œDon’t go there, all right? You know how I feel about you. I’m not the one with a wife I go running home to every night.”
    â€œNo, you’re the one who risks both our lives with about fifteen different bed partners. Now, I want your ass home before I get there, or you can expect a foot in your ass.”
    Oh, no, he didn’t just threaten to hit me! Look, I loved the guy, but who the hell did he think he was talking to? Now I was just as pissed off as he was.
    â€œExcuse me? I know you’re not talking to me, ’cause I wanna know what damn army you plan on bringing to help you get your foot in my ass. I think you’re starting to take that Big Poppa shit a little too literally, wouldn’t you say?” He was silent, so I continued. “And as far as me going home, you want me home, then pack your bags and move in, because I