Before I moved to Atlanta where I currently live, I lived in Chicago with my two identical twin cousins who were my age. I’d been through so much with them going all the way back to when their mama, my paternal aunt, took me in at age sixteen when my stepdad forced my mama to throw me out for being gay. Well, he’d actually persuaded her after I told her about him giving me money in exchange for sexual favors when she kept asking me where I was getting my money from. She wanted to believe what she wanted to believe and I ended up outside on a cold winter night with my clothes scattered around the front yard. My former stepdad was the first transparent homophobe I encountered in my life.
So, by the year 2012, I was living with my two cousins Leila and Laila in a three-bedroom house in a somewhat decent neighborhood. They worked at a processing factory and I did hair at a salon. The three of us were always extremely close, even when we were little kids. We were so close that instead of going by my actual name, Tyreese, I went by a shortened version of my middle name because it began with an L like my cousins’ names. My middle name is Levion but I told everyone to call me Levi. My cousins and I stayed out of drama and we were known for that. However, staying out of drama doesn’t necessarily mean drama won’t somehow find its way to you.
“Hey,” I called out as I entered the kitchen side door. “I went ahead and picked up the groceries so y’all wouldn’t have to after your shifts. Wal-Mart had everything in stock tonight.”
“Thank you so much, cuz,” Laila said while entering the kitchen. “I’ll help you carry the stuff in.”
“Where’s Leila?” I asked while sitting down a few bags on the kitchen counter.
“Please tell me he came alone.”
“Nope. KD’s cute ass is in the living room.”
“Ugh, cute? Bitch where?”
“I know he’s trash and shit, but you can’t deny that he’s fine as fuck, Levi.”
“Fuck that lame ass nigga. For real. Come on, let’s get the groceries out of my car.” We went out to my car and grabbed the rest of the groceries and brought them inside. After putting them away, I asked Laila, “Do you think your sister is done getting her back blown out? Because I need to go upstairs and use the bathroom.”
Laila laughed and said, “I think they’re just talking.”
“Good because I have to take a piss and I don’t wanna hear nasty sex sounds.” I left the kitchen and braced myself for a stupid side comment from KD but he wasn’t in the living room like Laila had told me he was. Thinking he’d stepped out the front door, I headed upstairs and into the bathroom to see he was in there looking at himself in the mirror with his shirt lifted up.
“Man, get yo faggot ass outta here,” he snapped while pulling his shirt down.
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