CROSSROADS

22

          Taraji sat next to Mariah on the small metal seat.
Mariah looked at Taraji and smiled. Taraji tried hard not to show her excitement for her first ride on a subway.
Mariah interlocked her fingers with Taraji's. Taraji looked at Mariah, her lips curved upwards with a smile.

Taraji could feel the attraction between them. Mariah's pale skin against her brown skin almost made her hand look darker than it really was. She had never been attracted to a white woman before. Taraji didn't know if it was just a preference or the thought of what her grandmother would do to her if she brought a white woman home. She knew where her grandmother stood with the situation. Her grandmother loved black love. She would always rave that there was nothing better.

Taraji thought about the few white girls who crossed her path. She was never really around any, except the occasional ghetto white girl or the Beckys, white girls who were groupies. Mariah was different. She was professional and mature. She could sing a Taylor Swift song as quick as a Keyshia Cole song. And she didn't have a white girl's body. Taraji knew her hips and ass were real; she had it back in the day, before injections gave even the flattest woman an ass like J-Lo. "Taraji, what's on your mind?" Mariah noticed Taraji's vacant expression.

"Nothing much, just thinking about some stuff."
"Want to share?"
"Nah, it's nothing really." Taraji glanced over at Mariah. Her brooding expression puzzled Taraji.
"It's nothing. I'm serious."
Mariah lowered her head. "No, it's not that. Taraji, can I ask you a question?" Taraji nodded.
"How are you able to do it?"
"Do what?"

"Ignore what is happening between us." Mariah let go of Taraji's hand. "A week ago, you were about to make love to me and then you stopped. Now when we are around each other, it's as though nothing ever happened."
Taraji sighed. She didn't know what to say. Thoughts ran through her mind. She couldn't tell her the truth.
"I'm sorry, it's not like that at all. I just have a lot going on right now. Mariah's arched eyebrows lowered. She looked at Taraji, lips locked tightly together.

"Taraji, let me tell you something about me. I am a grown woman. I don't play games, I don't sugar-coat the truth. For this friendship to work, I expect the same from you. So tell me the truth. What is really stopping you from doing what I can tell you want to do?"
Mariah's forwardness sparked a flame in Taraji. She shifted her body to Mariah. "All right then, you want the truth, I'll give it to you." Taraji put her palm on Mariah's knee.

"I like you, I like you a lot. But I still have feelings for someone else."
"And it has nothing to do with my color?"
Taraji's jaw dropped. "Why would you say that?"
"Because I'm not dumb, Taraji. I notice how you switch up when there's a group of black people around us. You don't act the same. You seem tense."

Taraji didn't know what to say. She knew Mariah was right. It shocked her that she was so obvious.
"It's not that I have a problem with the fact that you're white, it's just that I've never considered dating a white woman before. It's different for me." Mariah nodded her head up and down. "OK, well, that's a start. As far as this other woman, is it something you want back?"
Taraji thought about Fantasia. The yearning for Fantasia wasn't as strong as it used to be. "Nah, it's not like that.
I invested a lot of time in that for nothing. I won't do it again."

"Is it that you don't want to or you don't need to?"
"Both, but mostly I don't want to. Do I still think about her? Yes. That's why I stopped the other night. Mariah, I like you, but I don't want to bring you or any other girl into my life when I know I haven't gotten rid of all my feelings for someone else. That is how bad shit happens."
Monica entered Taraji's mind.

"That's how I lost my career. I only messed with Monica because of Fantasia. Trying to get over her, I brought someone into my life, and it almost killed me and my bestfriend." Mariah held Taraji's hands. Taraji could see the warmth in her eyes.