Internalization

Marquita Hockaday

There was more than just one thing that caused the tension to overflow between Tiffany and Noel that night. Weeks, possibly months, of small encounters swelled into fists, hair pulling, and broken shot glasses. But none of them knew it would end with one of them in handcuffs.

The evening started off like any of their other planned “girls’ nights out.” Every other Saturday, they would meet up and pre-game at one of their houses. This weekend, it was Noel’s.  They spent the first part of the night on the balcony of Noel’s apartment, taking shots of Fireball, joking about (some of) their nonexistent relationships, and wallowing over the jobs that each one of them hated. It’s what bonded them. The mundane days (and sometimes evenings) they spent logging hours at Henry Clay Community College. The terrible dates they went on to try and find someone decent to spend some time with — all of them but Tiffany. She was newly married and had just had a baby, but every one of them knew she wasn’t happy about her new life.

“Did you ever figure out who did it?” Angie asked, sitting her shot glass on Noel’s small plastic picnic table. The dark black paint had started to chip and there was bird shit all over the thing, but Noel refused to upgrade her outdoor decor. Even when Tiffany offered to give her an old patio set she was about to get rid of a few months ago when her and the hubby upgraded their patio furniture.

That was one of the many arguments Noel and Tiffany had. Noel felt Tiffany was “talking down to her” and “trying to show off.” Tiffany thought Noel was “being ungrateful” and “always trying to pretend she was better than everyone.”

Tiffany shook her head, her gold hoop earrings hitting her cheeks. “Not like it matters. What can I do about it? I mean, like one of the lame-ass bosses is gonna care that someone ate my leftover sub? And anyway, I hope whoever did eat it gets dysentery or something. That tuna had been in there for a good three days.” Tiffany laughed before throwing back the rest of her shot.

Angie couldn’t help but laugh, too. Tiffany was always hoping something bad would happen to someone, including her own husband of two years. Angie didn’t get why Tiffany wasn’t appreciative of her new marriage. Angie would’ve given anything to find a match, someone who understood her, someone to come home and cuddle with every night like Tiffany had. Instead, Angie spent her nights swiping left and right on different dating apps.

“Well, if it were me, I would’ve demanded that everyone open up and say mother fucking ‘ah’,” Noel shouted, pouring more Fireball in each girl’s shot glass.

Roni, who had been silent as she sat in one of the plastic chairs, glanced over the balcony and finally chuckled before saying, “How long are we gonna talk about this?” She held up her Fitbit. “Can we get going? I think Angie said the place opened over an hour ago. I want to get good seats.”

Tiffany turned to Roni, rolling her eyes. Roni was always getting on Tiffany’s nerves. She was the buzzkill in the group. Keeping dibs on how much someone was drinking, pointing out when her friends should reign it in — just in case someone from work might be around, calling out when someone shouldn’t be flirting because they just got married... And anyway, Tiffany wasn’t particularly excited about karaoke. She hated whenever Angie got to pick the activities. She was always picking corny shit. Tiffany would rather stay at Noel’s all night and drink. That way she could get stupid drunk and have an excuse not to go home.

“One more drink,” Tiffany said.

Noel frowned after pulling her braids into a bun on the top of her head. “Think you’ve had enough, mama.” She laughed to herself.

Tiffany didn’t join in.

“Oh, shit,” Angie muttered.

That was how the arguments always started between Tiffany and Noel. One of them said something that was supposed to be a passive-aggressive joke and the other took it literally.

Angie didn’t know when things changed between Tiffany and Noel. Was it when Tiffany got married and had her baby, or was it when Noel got the promotion to the Dean’s office?

“Excuse me?” Tiffany asked, turning to Noel. There was barely any space between them on Noel’s small balcony. Tiffany was close enough to Noel to smell the knockoff  Kim Kardashian perfume that Noel dabbed behind her ears and on her neck. “Are you judging me? I left my baby at home, okay? And she’s doing just fine.”

“Jesus,” Roni said as she stood. She knew that once Tiffany got on her soapbox she could stay up there for hours and if they waited any longer, she would be forced to stay out much later than she intended. All Roni wanted to do was go home, put on her pajamas, and watch the Lifetime movie of the week. But this tradition they’d started four years ago was something they’d locked themselves into and all found it hard to unravel.

“Girl, please,” Noel said, smirking. “No one is judging you.” She laughed a bit. “If you thought I was talking about your parenting, that's your own demons.” She tried to turn around; her finger almost reached the handle of the balcony door. “Can someone go ahead and get an Uber?”

Tiffany grabbed Noel’s shoulder. “What’d you say?”

Angie winced. “Tiff, come on. You told me you’ve been dying to sing that new H.E.R song. They probably got it. And you know people say you look like her... especially with that curly ass wig.” Angie was the only one who laughed at that point.

“You’ve been coming for me for weeks now.” Tiffany ignored Angie, not letting go of Noel. “Say what you gotta say.”

Noel looked down at her shoulder, rolled her eyes, and shrugged Tiffany off. “I know you better stop acting like a ghetto-ass hood rat in my house.”

Roni sucked in a breath and then tried her best to squeeze past Angie and get between the girls. She cursed herself for not starting Atkins like she intended this past year. She also couldn’t help but wonder if this argument was punishment for eating Tiffany’s tuna sub. Despite her original goal of stopping the girls from getting in each other’s faces, Roni found herself staring at her reflection in Noel’s balcony glass doors. She wished she hadn’t decided to wear the burgundy sweater dress and leggings. She could see the extra pound cake slice she indulged in the night before in her thighs.

In the flash of a few seconds while Roni scrutinized her waist and legs, Tiffany had grabbed Noel’s braids and yanked her head back. “What the hell you call me?”

“Oh my God!” Angie cried and stepped back.

Roni was frozen, still looking at her thighs. She blinked and then tried reaching for the girls. But the fight was already in motion. Tiffany had Noel’s hair in both hands and pulled her down on the plastic picnic table, pummeling her face with her fist. Noel cried out, reaching for whatever she could, knocking down the shot glasses that sat on top of the table.

Angie cowered in a corner, covering her hand with her mouth. Roni finally snapped out of it and grabbed Tiffany around the waist, pulling her away from Noel. Tiffany came away from Noel with braids gripped in her fists. Angie rushed to Noel, helping her up from the table as she tried to avoid the broken shot glasses. Noel’s face was bloody, bright red, and tear-stained. They all stood still for a few seconds.

And then they heard the sirens.

Noel’s neighbor had called the cops after hearing the disturbance. The girls tried to say they were fine, everything was good, but after Noel started crying again, Tiffany lost it.

“You high-yellow heffa! What the hell are you crying about? You got it all! Good job, no man to cook for, no baby that took over your body and made you look like this!” Tiffany grabbed at her loose stomach. “And now you’re crying? Why because this dark-skinned hood rat kicked your ass?”

Roni tried calming Tiffany, but Tiffany wouldn’t stop. Tiffany hurled insults at Noel about her lifestyle, about her job in the Dean’s office, about her skin tone, about her fit body, all the things that Tiffany hated about her own life. Angie tried to stop Tiffany, too, but Tiffany was out of control. Everything she’d held in for the last six months and wanted to say to Noel, to everyone, to life, came out at that moment.

And Tiffany continued as the cop handcuffed her and walked her to the patrol car.