Free Teenage Love Affair by Ni-Ni Simone

matter what my mother taught me to speak.
    â€œDid Ameen know you were coming over here?” his mother asked me, and I couldn’t believe it. She’d never spoken three words to me.
    â€œYes,” I said as I sucked my teeth.
    â€œYou better watch your tone,” she snapped.
    â€œAll I said was yes.”
    â€œIs she gettin’ smart?” His sister jumped into our conversation.
    â€œOh…kay…and all this beef is coming from where? All I wanna know,” I said as calmly as possible, “is if Ameen is here?”
    â€œWait a minute.” His mother got off her boyfriend’s lap and went to knock on Ameen’s door. “’Cause I ain’t up for no nonsense in my house tonight. Anybody get to fightin’ up in here goin’ to jail.” She banged on Ameen’s door and he cracked it open. “Did you know this boogzie li’l girl was rollin’ over here?”
    â€œWho? Zsa-Zsa?” he said from behind the door.
    What does he mean, who, Zsa-Zsa?
    â€œI guess that’s her name. She can’t have a regular name like Khadejah, Al-Keema, or one of them? A Zsa-Zsa…what kinda bull is that?”
    â€œAi’ight, ma,” he said, “just tell her to come in here.”
    She turned around and snapped toward me, “He said bring ya li’l high sadity behind on.”
    I hurried and walked past her. I didn’t wanna be held accountable for smacking his mama.
    â€œWhy was your mother acting like that?” I asked Ameen as he closed the door behind me.
    â€œShe didn’t know I was having company, that all.” He started kissing on me.
    â€œAnd what did you mean when you said, ‘Who, Zsa-Zsa’? You got somebody else coming over here?”
    â€œDon’t start, Zsa.” He stopped kissing me.
    â€œAnd what did she mean by, ‘if somebody come over here fighting they’re going to jail’?” I looked him over and noticed scratches on his neck and shoulder. “And what are those scratches on you? Have you been fighting?”
    â€œZsa, why are you buggin’?”
    â€œI’m not buggin’, why can’t you tell me the truth? Was some other chick over here?” My voice trembled.
    â€œZsa—”
    A lump filled my throat. “Know what, I’ma go home.” I opened his door and he closed it back.
    â€œWhat are you doin’?”
    â€œI think you been bringing other girls over here.”
    He shook his head.
    â€œSee”—tears filled my eyes—“I’m out.”
    â€œAi’ight, man, just listen. It wasn’t nothin’, for real. My son’s mother came over here to get some money.”
    â€œYour son’s mother?” I twisted my lips in disbelief.
    â€œYou want me to tell the story or you got it from here?”
    â€œGo ’head.” I leaned from one foot to the next.
    â€œShe found your picture”—he went in his dresser drawer, pulled a framed picture of me out, and sat it on top—“and she caught a serious attitude.”
    â€œUmm-hmm.” I folded my arms across my breasts. “Did that really happen?”
    â€œWhat I’ma lie for, Zsa-Zsa?”
    â€œYou tell me.”
    â€œI’m not lyin’ man, chill. She started buggin’ because I told her that I loved you and she started fighting me.”
    â€œI told you,” I said, “that you needed to tell her about us before.”
    â€œWell, she knows now so the rest is on her.”
    â€œAmeen, do you really love me, though? Because sometimes I just feel—”
    â€œLook, how many chicks you think I bring around my family? My family now, not my boys. But my moms, my sister, and my niece. Only you and my son’s mother. That’s it. It’s all about you and you know that.” He kissed me on my shoulder. “So chill.”
    â€œAlright, Ameen,” I said, melting into the kisses he was