So You Call Yourself a Man Read Online Free Page A

important. Funny thing is, if I remember correctly, she was the one who wanted to speak to me. I didn’t reply, though. I just opened the screen door and walked into the living room.
    â€œDamn, James, you gettin’ fat,” she spat as I walked past her.
    I turned to see her staring at me with a less-than-desirous look on her face. I immediately sucked in my gut with a frown. Her smart-ass comment had not just hurt my ego, but my feelings as well. Yeah, I’d gained a few pounds since I’d seen her last—probably closer to ten or fifteen—but it wasn’t as if I was totally out of shape. In retaliation, I eyed her from head to toe, lashing out in a calm yet condescending demeanor. “Thanks, Michelle. You’re lookin’ good too. I see you did your hair just for me…. Oh, and is that a new outfit? ’Cause that gray in your sweatshirt matches your black rollers perfectly.”
    She touched her rollers self-consciously, obviously embarrassed by my remark, but that didn’t last long. “Was that supposed to be funny, James?”
    I smirked, but again I didn’t reply. Michelle rolled her eyes, then plopped down on the sofa with an attitude. “Well, tell me if you think this is funny.” She lifted a piece of paper from the coffee table and handed it to me. I looked at it and shrugged. All it had was some math problems scribbled on it.
    â€œWhat’s this?”
    â€œThat is seventeen percent of the average UPS driver’s monthly salary, multiplied by thirty-six months. That’s what my social worker says I’ll get in back child support if I take your ass to court.”
    â€œThirty thousand dollars? Are you insane?” I shouted. I looked down at the paper again as I eased myself into the love seat.
    â€œChildren are expensive,” she replied nonchalantly. “Now, if you don’t like it, he’s in the bedroom taking a nap. You can take him home to your wife and you ain’t got to give me shit.”
    My stomach began to tighten up and beads of sweat started to roll down my forehead. I glared across the room at Michelle, whose smug grin was forming into a full-fledged smile. She was enjoying herself. She was enjoying herself a great deal, and my next thought was that I should get up out of my seat and knock that smile right off her face. Fortunately for her, I didn’t hit women, but I was starting to understand why some guys did.
    â€œMichelle, I don’t have thirty thousand dollars, and if I did…”
    She cut me off with a wave of her hand and an exaggerated snap of her fingers. “Relax, James. I don’t want you to give me thirty thousand dollars.” I let out a thankful sigh that was halted by her next comment. “But I do want eight hundred a month, plus child care.”
    She didn’t know it, or then again maybe she did, but the reality of the situation was that she might as well have been asking for the thirty thousand, ’cause there was no way I was giving her eight hundred a month. Shit, my ceiling was two hundred and fifty, and I was going to suggest two hundred until I could get a blood test. Once again, I could hear that little voice in the back of my head asking me why the hell I ever fucked with her in the first place, especially without a condom. I still didn’t have an answer, and once again I contemplated getting out of my seat and smacking the shit outta her.
    â€œI can’t give you eight hundred a month. I’m living paycheck-to-paycheck as it is.” I sat up defiantly. “Besides, I don’t even know if I’m the father of your son.”
    There, I’d said it, but now I wished I hadn’t, as Michelle’s honey complexion turned a crimson red. She looked like she was about two seconds from blowing a fuse.
    â€œFirst of all, his name is Marcus! And he’s not my son, he’s our son.”
    â€œSo you say,” I replied, reaching