September 25: Crash

Crash

“Wake up!” The earthquake known as my little brother jumps up and down on the bed. I squeeze my eyes shut and will him to stop with my mind.
He jumps right on top of me. “Wake up, sleepy head! It’s the first day of school,” he says right into my ear.
I reach behind him and lift him up. He squeals. I throw him back down on the bed and get on top of him.
“I’m up,” I yell. He just giggles. Eight year olds; I swear, they’re just too damn happy.
“Alright boys, settle down.” My mom comes out of the bathroom and ruffles her hair in the mirror. “You’ll wake up the neighbors.”
“Sorry Mom,” we both mumble.
“Davie, get up and put your shoes on.” She snaps her fingers at my brother. “And finish your cereal.”
“Okay!” He hops off the bed and puts on his new tennis shoes.
“You getting up?” Mom looks at me while she puts on her earrings.
“Do I have a choice?”
“No, Sir.” She laughs and smooths her hands over her uniform. “I’ve got to get to the diner. Can I trust you to get yourself ready and get your brother on the bus?”
“Yeah,” I assure her. “Who’s picking him up? I’ve got to go straight to work, so I won’t be here.”
“I know. Janey is going to babysit.” She turns to Davie. “Did you hear that, Davie? Miss Janey is going to be here when you get home from school today.”
“Yay!” Davie claps his hands and shovels more cereal in his mouth.
“What time do you get off work?” I ask her.
“Eight. I’m pulling a double.” She grabs her purse. “You?”
“Whenever I finish.” I shrug. “I’ll hurry, though.”
“Okay.”She nods. She runs her hand over Davie’s head and gives him a kiss. “Be good at school today, okay? I’ll see you tonight.”
“Okay, Mom!” Davie waves.
“You be good too, alright?” She looks at me and smiles before leaving room 113.
We’ve been living at the Blue Dolphin Motel for the last two years, after Mom lost the house. She did her best to keep it, but her wages at the diner just weren’t enough. After my dad died, we started to struggle. We lost just about everything, except each other.
The memories of that day flood back into my head like it was just yesterday. But I was ten, and Davie was still a baby. We were driving on Concord with my dad. It was winter, and roads were icy. We were out getting wood for our woodstove. Everything was fine. My dad and I were talking, Davie was in the back squealing and laughing. All of a sudden, a car in the other lane lost control. They say things like that happen in an instant; but to me, it lasted forever. The other car jumped over the median and came straight for us. My dad tried to swerve out of the way, but he froze up. My brother screamed. So did I. My dad didn’t make any kind of sound, just put his arm in front of me and pushed me against the seat before we hit. I squeezed my eyes shut.
Then everything went black.
Dad had died instantly. They barely got Davie out of the car in time. I walked away with a few cuts and a big gash on the right side of my face. The scar runs from the corner of my eye, all the way down my cheek. When I got back to school, everyone was fascinated by it. I made up a bunch of stories and they gave me the nickname Crash. Anything is better than Winston.
Mom told me a few years later that it was a drunk driver. I never found out who it was, but it doesn’t matter. My dad is gone. And I’ll never drink a sip of alcohol as long as I live.
I shake the memories out of my head and wash my face. I don’t have time for a shower, but I scrub my face extra hard and throw on my clothes. I didn’t get anything new for school, so I put on the same jeans I’ve had since freshman year and one of my cleaner shirts. I put on my tennis shoes and pour a bowl of Fruit Loops. I sit down next to Davie and shove the cereal in my mouth.
“Hurry up,” I tell him. “The bus is gonna be here soon.”
“Okay,” he mumbles.
We sit there and eat in silence. He chews loudly and I punch him lightly every now and then.
“I love you,” I say softly.
He looks at me and smiles. “Love you too!”
He picks up his Spiderman book bag and puts on his jacket. I run my fingers over his hair and wipe the milk off of his mouth. That kid is all I’ve got. He doesn’t even know what happened. He just knows that we don’t have a dad.
“Let’s go,” I say when I’m done with my cereal. I grab my book bag too and we head outside. I lock the door to 113 and we walk to the street corner.
Cars fly past us. I gave up hoping that nobody from school recognized me years ago. People have asked me before why I wait outside the bus at the motel. I tell them that we live in the apartment complex behind it. They believe me; nobody asks anymore.
“I love school,” Davie says. He has three teeth missing; he’s got almost all of his adult teeth.
“Wait until you get to high school,” I mumble. “Then it’s not so fun.”
Davie rolls his eyes and laughs. A few minutes later, his bus stops right in front of us. I grab him by the hood of his jacket.
“You better be good, okay?”
“Okay!” He nods his head quickly.
“I’ll see you when I get off of work.” I pat his back. “Have a good day. I love you.”
“Love you, Crash!” He laughs and gets on the bus. I wave to the driver; she waves back.
Once the bus is gone, I stuff my hands in my pockets and rock back and forth on my heels. I do that when I’m nervous sometimes. I don't really know why I'm nervous; it’s just school. They say junior year is the hardest though. My counselor keeps telling me that this is the year colleges look at. Not that I’m ever going to make it that far.
My bus comes a few minutes later and I get on. Luckily, it’s not too packed. I take my usual seat near the front.
“What’s going on, Sheila?” I smile at the bus driver. She smiles back and continues down the road.
More and more people pile on with every stop. A few people say hey to me, shake my hand. Most of the people on the bus are underclassmen though. I wish I was driving like the rest of my friends. But my mom can barely afford to keep her truck running, let alone buy me a new car. I’m saving up for one, though.
I crack jokes with a few of the freshmen that I can tell are uneasy. “Don’t take it too seriously,” I encourage them. “Don’t let them see the fear.” The preps thrive on freshman fear.
When we get to Five Points, I hurry off the bus with the rest of them. It’s already pretty late; most everyone is already in their spots. I walk through the front doors, where all the freshmen are congregated. Forget what I said; I could smell the fear from outside.
The blacks and Puerto Ricans are in the back of the lobby. I don’t even bother going through the prep lobby. Everyone has their place. But I don’t really belong to any certain clique. I am a floater. I have a few friends that I hang out with, but I mostly move from one group to the next, never overstaying my welcome.
I head to the back of the school, where my ‘group’ hangs out. Dallas and Rob have been my friends since we were little. Dallas is the one who dubbed me Crash, and it stuck after that.
“What’s up fellas?”
They are leaned up against the building, watching some of the skateboarders.
Dallas shakes my hand and we hug for a second. Then I shake hands with Rob.
“What’s up, man?” Rob smiles. “Long time, no see.”
“I know.” I shrug. “Been working all summer.”
“Me too.” Dallas nods. “I didn’t realize the police station was such a busy place.”
Rob and I laugh. Dallas thinks he’s a cop, but really he spent the whole summer shoveling paperwork for his dad, who is one.
“Yeah sure,” I say sarcastically. Dallas punches me lightly.
The skaters are loud and annoying, but I ignore them. The bell rings a few minutes later and the courtyard floods with people. Everyone walks with their friends to homeroom.
“I’ll catch you guys at lunch,” I say to Dallas and Rob. We all shake hands and I follow the masses to my homeroom.
I find a seat in Mr. Burns’ classroom. For some reason, I’m in a homeroom with kids a grade ahead of me. I’m the only junior, but I’ve been in this homeroom since I was a freshman and they never fixed it. That’s Five Points for you. Ultimate chaos and disorder. Gotta love high school.
“I’m already sick of this place,” I say to the guys around me. They all laugh.
Samantha West walks in just before the bell rings. She’s looking beautiful, as always. I work for her dad at his landscaping company. I wonder if she even recognizes me.
Mr. Burns starts to read down the roll. I already know what he’s going to say my real name. I cringe as he gets closer to my name.
“Winston Law,” he says. His voice booms monotonously.
“Come on, Mister Burns.” I lean back in my chair and throw my hands up.“You know it’s Crash.”
The kids around me laugh. Mr. Burns rolls his eyes, shakes his head and keeps reading down the roster.
When he’s done, he passes out our schedules. I stare at the TV, where Ruby St. Clair is giving the announcements. It’s weird seeing her as student body president, although we all knew it would happen.
Mr. Burns hands me my card and I read over it. Junior English, German, Art, and Statistics. This schedule sucks, but I know I don’t have much of a choice. I stuff the card in my notebook and wait for the bell to ring.
“What classes you got, Crash?” Asks Damien, a friend of a friend.
“A bunch of bullshit, man.” I shake my head. “Shouldn’t be too hard though.”
“I feel you, dude.” He nods.
The bell rings and I follow my classmates out into the hall. My English class is just a few doors down. I am one of the first people in the classroom.
“Good morning,” Mrs. Eller greets me. She’s like sixty years old, but she‘s got the youth of a twenty-year old.
“Morning,” I mumble and take a seat in the back.
People start to flood in soon. Brian Phillips, one of the skaters from outside, sits beside me in the back row. A few minutes later, Evelyn Rhodes comes in and sits in front of me. Her skirt is barely there, but her breasts are definitely in attendance. This is going to be an interesting semester.
Once the bell rings, Mrs. Eller calls out the roll. Everyone is here, and she continues on with the rules of the class. I don’t know why teachers feel the need to go over the rules on every first day. The rules are always the same: no food or gum, no talking, no cell phones, do your homework, come to class on time. And nobody ever follows them. Five Points High School: also known as the biggest waste of time.
“You’re going to be working on a group project for the entire semester.” Mrs. Eller passes out a sheet of paper to all of us.
I scan the handout. Junior English Group Video Project. I scan over the sheet. Apparently we are going to have to make a film and present it at the end of the semester.
“A film about what?” I ask out loud. I didn’t mean to do that.
“Ah,” says Mrs. Eller. “That is the question. You are to get into groups of three or four, and make a video. The theme of your video is simple…” She smiles. “Life.”
A few people groan, including me. My hand shoots up, but I speak before she can call on me.
“Can’t we just read Beowulf and learn how to write haikus?” I don’t know why she’s trying to be all philosophical. It’s English.
“You could.” She nods. “But then you’d all be complaining about how boring my class was. You’d tell me it was just like all of the other English classes you’ve had. And that, ladies and gentlemen…” She looks right at me over her glasses. “Is the ultimate insult.”
I sigh and shrug. She simply continues as if nothing happened. “I will let you pick your groups,and for the remainder of the class you will discuss ideas for you Life films. Tomorrow we will talk about your first reading assignment.” She looks at me. “Beowulf will come later in the semester.” She winks. “Go.”
The room is silent for a few seconds before everyone starts moving their chairs to get into groups with their friends. I don’t have any friends in this class.
“Hey Ev,” Brian says to Evelyn. She turns around. “You wanna be in a group together?”
She licks her lips and shrugs. “Sure.”
“What about you, Crash?” Brian turns to me. “We need a third person.”
I weigh my options. Be in a group alone, or be in a group with the two biggest idiots in the class. I decide to take my chances with the group.
“Why not?”
Evelyn turns around to face us and Brian pushes his desk closer to mine. We all sit there for a few minutes without saying anything.
“So, what do you guys want to do for the project?” I finally break the silence.
Brian shrugs. “We could film every day people in their normal lives. Try to get a few different perspectives on what life is.”
“What is life?” Evelyn asks sarcastically. She rolls her eyes. “Oh this is going to be fun.”
I point to the handout. “Well, it’s thirty percent of our final grade, so we’re going to at least have to pretend it’s fun. I can’t afford to fail.”
“Me either,” Brian agrees. I know that he’s already failed once; he’s supposed to be a senior this year.
We brainstorm on ideas for our film. Our first task at hand will be finding a video camera; none of us have one. Mrs. Stephens comes around to every group and discusses the project with them. What she says goes in one ear and out the other for me. Screw Junior English.
“Alright, get your seats back in order,” she says before the bell rings. “Tomorrow we’ll start talking about your literary requirements. I hope you all have a great first day.”
The bell rings and we all flood out. I walk outside towards the main building for German. We have a five minute break in between first and second periods. Several cliques stand around outside. Brian leaves my side and heads over with his stoner friends.
“Hey Crash,” I hear a voice call me. It is Garry, a big redneck. He’s standing with his other big redneck friends. People think rednecks don’t exist in Chicago. They’re wrong.
“What’s up, Garry?” I shake his hand. “Hey guys,” I say to his other friends.
“How was your summer?” Garry stuffs his hands in his Carhart jacket. I know he’s burning up in that thing.
“It was alright.” I shrug. “Nothing too special.”
“Got any good jokes for us this year?” asks Dillon, Garry’s clone.
I sigh and think of one of the dumbest jokes I can. These guys will laugh at anything. “Alright, so there are two snowmen standing in a field,” I begin. “When all of sudden, one of them says ‘that’s funny…I smell carrots too!”
The guys crack up. I don’t even think they understand the joke, because if they did, they would realize how lame it is.
“Hey Crash.” I hear a voice behind me. It is Ruby St. Clair, the girl from the announcements. She’s the girl everyone knows. I go to her house every two weeks to trim her parent’s bushes.
“Hey, Ruby!” I wave. “I’ll be over to trim your bushes after school today. And I mean that in the most sexual way possible.” The guys crack up again.
Ruby roll her eyes.“I’ll see you after school, Crash.”
“Oh, that was a good one.” Garry slaps his knee. He literally thought that was a knee-slapper. I gotta get out of here.
“Anytime.” I shrug. “I’ll see you guys around.”
“Later, man.” Garry pats my back. Idiots.
I walk into the main building, and have to go right through the prep lobby. I see them all, glowing, practically screaming money. They are a bunch of circus freaks. Anderson Stone, my ex-best friend is the ring leader. He stands in the center, surrounded by everyone. They all worship him; this whole school does. Samantha is under his arm, smiling hard. I’d like to punch her perfect teeth out. But I’m sure her dad would fire me if I did that.
Anderson used to be legitimately cool. But that was back before his dad married some rich lady and Anderson started getting a bunch of new stuff. He was living the high life in a matter of months; and here, money is everything. When he got to Five Points, I was still stuck in the eighth grade. And by the time I got here, everything had changed.
I shake my head and walk past the circus. He doesn’t even notice me. I turn the corner and am overrun by the theater kids. I don’t know many of them, but I do know Gabe DeCarteret. A few years ago, I was at the park watching my little brother play. I turned around and Davie was gone. I freaked out, but a few minutes later, Gabe showed up. Davie was holding his hand and had an ice cream in the other. I thanked Gabe maybe a hundred times, but we still aren’t really friends. Theater isn’t my thing.
“What’s up, dude?” I ask as I pass by.
He fidgets with his shirt and nods. “Hey man.”
And that’s it. I walk past him and his friends and continue on to my classroom.
German is going to be a total drag, I can already feel it. Once the class starts, Mr. Taylor drones on and on about how great the language is. I imagine myself stuffing a German sausage in his mouth.
He waits until class is almost over to check attendance. “If you go by a name other than your first name, make sure you let me know.”
When he gets to my name, I make sure to tell him. “I go by Crash.”
He just looks at me. “Crash? Is that some sort of joke?”
“No,” I mumble.
“We all call him Crash,” says Lyss, a girl I‘ve known for a few years.
“Because of that awesome scar on his face,” says another kid.
Awesome. Right. “It’s true.” I shrug. “I’ve been called Crash since the sixth grade.”
“Well,” Mr. Taylor sighs. “I think I’ll stick with Winston for now.”
Whatever. It’s not worth it. “Fine,” I say.
When the bell rings, Lyss follows me out of the classroom. “He thinks he’s a real tough guy, huh?” she says of Mr. Taylor.
“Yeah I guess.” I shrug. “Must be the mustache.”
She giggles.
“Thanks for backing me up in there,” I say. She’s kind of cute. She’s small and kind of mousy. Cute.
“No problem.” She smiles. “I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah,” I agree. I hope so.
My third period is art. I feel like the schedule people decided to give me the biggest waste of a schedule that they possibly could. I sit through it next to Garry, who laughs at anything I say. Even the serious stuff. My teacher drones on about how we are going to be experimenting with different art techniques throughout the semester. I can’t help but think that Davie is probably sitting at school learning about finger paints and shadow puppets too.
When the lunch bell rings, I’m starving. I meet Dallas and Rob outside of the cafeteria and we all walk in together.
“How are your classes?” Dallas asks.
“Should you even have to ask that?” I look at him. We all laugh and get in line for cheeseburgers and fries.
We sit at a table in the very back corner. There is a small section in the cafeteria for the random people that nobody really notices.
“I forgot a fork,” I say to them once we are at the table. “I’ll be right back.”
On my way back up to the line, I see my friend Jeoff. He’s walking towards his section, where all of the black people sit.
“What’s up, man?” I say to him. We’ve been pretty good friends for a long time.
“Hey, Crash.” We shake hands. “How was your summer, man?”
“It was good.” I see one of his friends, Jamal, approaching. I start to rock back and forth on my heels. “I did a lot of working and took care of my little brother mostly.”
“Sounds fun.I worked some too.”
“You ready for senior year?”
“I don’t know, man.” He shrugs. “We’ll see.”
“What you doing talking to that cracker?” Jamal comes up and pushes Jeoff lightly.“What are you doing over here?” He looks hard at me.
“Just talking to my friend.” I put my hands up innocently and back away.“I’ll see you around, Jeoff.”
“Bye, Crash,” he says quietly and follows Jamal.
By the time I get back to our table, Dallas and Rob are almost done eating. Dallas is telling Rob about some police chase or something.
“So that’s when they had to shoot him. Just in the leg though, it was nothing serious.”
“Sweet, dude.” Rob seems fascinated.
I scarf my food. It’s hot and relatively good. They always spoil us on the first day.
“Let’s go outside for a cigarette,” Rob suggests. He and Dallas both smoke. I don’t, but I always go outside with them when they sneak a smoke. It’s kind of a rush knowing that we could get caught.
“Well come on,” Dallas nods.
We go outside to the back of the cafeteria. Teachers never check back here. I smell smoke before we turn the corner; someone must have found out the secret.
It’s Riley Sutton. He is leaned against the back wall, puffing away on a cigarette. He stands tall and cool, like some bad ass.
“What’s up, man?” Dallas pulls out his pack of cigarettes and stands a few feet away from Riley.
“Nothing much,” Riley says without looking at us.
Dallas and Rob light up. I put my hands in my pockets and start to rock. Even though it’s a rush, it still makes me nervous.
“I’m sick of this place already,” Dallas puffs on his Camel.
“You and me both.” Riley nods.
“Just a hundred and seventy-nine more days,” I assure them. “Piece of cake.”
Rob chuckles. The first bell rings and Riley puts out his cigarette. “See you around,” he says cooly.
“Later,” I mumble. “I’m gonna head to class. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
“Alright,” Dallas takes says and takes a long drag from his cigarette.
My last class of the day is statistics. I’m not too thrilled about it. I’ve got Mr. Baker, who teaches pretty much every math class you can think of. I’ve heard he’s tough.
He calls the roll, laughs when I tell him I go by Crash. He must like me already, because he calls on me to answer the first problem of the day.
“What do you think, Crash?”
I sit there for a few seconds before I say anything. “Uh…” Everyone turns to stare at me. “Three point one four one five nine two seven?” I blurt out the first few numbers of pi.
Everyone cracks up, including Mr. Baker.
“Very funny, Mister Crash.” He shakes his head and calls on a girl a few rows away from me. Saved by the comedy. Again.
He doesn’t call on me any more, but I make efforts to pay attention. Math is my worst subject. He passes out a sheet of homework problems and I stuff it in my notebook.
When the final bell rings, everyone hurries out to the parking lots. Unlike most of the upperclassmen, I head to the bus parking lot. I ride a different bus in the afternoons, because I go straight to work from school.
I sit down in the second row and pull out my iPod. I turn up Flogging Molly and stare out the dirty bus window. A kid sits down in the seat in front of me a few seconds later. He looks like a freshman. The fear is all over him.
“What’s up?” he mutters.
I take one of my headphones out.“Not much; glad the first day is over.”
“Me too,” he agrees. “I’m Alex.”
We shake hands. “Crash.” He looks surprised, as people generally are when I introduce myself. I chuckle a little. “It’s a long story.”
“It always is.” He nods.
“Yeah.”
A few minutes later, the bus pulls out of the lot. The kid’s shoulders are slumped over, his face hanging low. He looks sad.
“It’s actually not that long of a story,” I say, trying to make conversation. He turns around to me.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “I was in a pretty bad accident about seven years ago.”
“Oh,” he mumbles.
“Yeah.” I point to the scar on my face. “That’s how I got this big scar. It was the summer before sixth grade. And when we got back to school, everyone started calling me Crash. I never really stopped them, so it just kinda stuck.”
He laughs a little bit.“Well, I guess it could’ve been worse than a scar and a cool nickname.”
“Yeah.”I pause for a second. “My dad died though. And my baby brother, he almost died.”
“I’m sorry, man.” That awkward silence that always comes after that finally surfaces. “My mom died a little over a year ago. She had ovarian cancer,” he says a few seconds later.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” I sigh. “It sucks losing a parent.”
“Yeah, it really does,” he agrees. “And it doesn’t help that my dad just picked us up and moved us all the way here from Virginia.”
“Oh, you’re new here?”
“Yeah.”
“Damn.” I shake my head. “The only thing worse than being a freshman at Five Points is being a new freshman at Five Points.” I feel for the kid.
“Tell me about it,” he groans.
“Yeah, that place is a crazy house. Don’t let it get to you,” I assure him. “It’s all about cliques and how much money you have.”
“Yeah, I noticed.”
“Just try to be like me.”I shrug.“I don’t fit into any cliques. I’m friends with everyone, and I do my own thing. Just be funny. That’s all you have to do.”
“Maybe I’ll give that a try.” I sigh.
“Do it,” I encourage him. I reach for my wallet and pull out a card from my support group. “And here.” I hand it to him. “I go to a support group once a week. It’s for kids like us, ones who have lost a parent.” I shrug it off. “Come sometime if you want. The people are pretty chill and they always have cookies.”
I know what it’s like to be hurt, lost, to feel alone and stressed. I know I joke around a lot, but that’s just a mask. Even the funny guy has his breaking point.
He chuckles softly and looks over the card before putting it in his pocket. “Okay. Maybe I will.”
The bus stops and I stand up. “Well, this is my stop.”
He looks out at the big building and seems confused.
“Gotta go to work,” I explain. “I’ll see you around, Alex.”
“See ya,” he says, and I get off the bus.
I run across the parking lot so that I make sure I clock in on time. The building is huge and pretty nice for a landscaping company. Mr. West keeps things spotless around here.
I go into the locker room and clock in. Then I change into the ugly blue jumpsuit that we’re required to wear. Ricky Aviles comes in a few minutes later and changes next to me.
“What’s up, man?”
He doesn’t say anything back, just grunts a little bit. I don’t know if he knows much English. He’s Puerto Rican and he never really says much. I know he doesn’t want to be here. But having a job is part of his parole, and Mr. West was the only person who would hire him. He’s lucky, considering his record.
His brother, Manny, is the biggest bully at school. He’s always getting into fights and causing chaos. He’s some big gang member, and I know Ricky is too. So I keep my distance. But we work together on most of our jobsites, because Mr. West knows I do a good job and will keep an eye on Ricky.
I go into the main office and pull out our schedule for the day. We’ve only got three houses to go to, and they are mostly maintenance. So I should be done by six. Ricky is waiting out back for me, where the company trucks are. He’s already loaded up all of our equipment when I get out there.
I have to drive the truck because Ricky doesn’t have his license. I don’t think Mr. West would let him drive the truck even if he did. We get in and I pull out of the lot and head to our first house.
“So, how is everything going in your neck of the woods?” I try to make conversations. I hate awkward car rides.
“Perfect,” he mumbles.
“That’s good,” I say sarcastically. “School started back today. But I’m sure you know that because of Manny.”
He doesn’t say anything.
“Yeah, I hate that place.” I stare ahead at the road. “I’m just trying to push myself so I can finish up and get away from this job.”
He still doesn’t say anything.
“I understand why you quit though. That place is the shits.”
He turns to me quickly. “What are you trying to say, boy?”
“Nothing, nothing.” I stutter a little and try to keep the steering wheel steady. “I just meant that I understand why anyone wouldn’t want to be there. That’s all.”
He stares at me hard for several seconds. His glare hurts almost as bad as I’m sure one of his punches would. Almost.
I don’t say anything else. We get to the first house and I park out front. It’s Ruby St. Clair’s place. A mansion is more like it. We get out and take out our shears and other equipment. I work quickly and so does he. It takes us about thirty minutes to finish, and when we do, I step up to the front door and ring the doorbell.
Ruby opens the door a few seconds later.
“Oh, hey Crash. I forgot you were coming!” She looks a little flushed.
“That’s cool.” I shrug “We just finished up, everything looks good.”
She looks out at the bushes.“Okay, great.” She goes inside for a second and comes right back with an envelope. “Here’s your check. Make sure Ricky gets his too.”
“Aren’t you going to invite us in for lemonade and pastries?” I smile big.
She just rolls her eyes. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow, Crash. Have a good night.” She tries to shut the door but I stop it with my hand.
“Come on, just one donut. I’m dying out here.”
She looks past me at Ricky, who is standing behind me at the bottom of the steps. “Alright. She caves. “But I’ll bring them to you, you guys stay out here.” She disappears, but comes back a minute later with a plate of danishes.
“Jackpot,” I say.
“You’re welcome,” she says sarcastically. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”She closes the door before I have time to say thank you.
We get back in the truck. “You want one?” I offer him a danish.
“I don’t want that shit,” He mumbles.
“Alright.” I shrug and put the danishes in the middle of the seat.
We finish up at the other two houses and I drive back to the company. Ricky hurries inside once I’ve parked. He is changed and about to clock out when I get there.
“Have a good night, man.” I don’t know why I keep trying to talk to him, because once again he ignores me.
I take my time changing out of my uniform and clocking out. On my way out, I run into Mr. West.
“Hey Mister West.” I reach out my hand and shake his.
“How’s it going, Crash?”
I like that he calls me that. “Great, we just finished up at the St. Clair's, the Hammond’s, and the Booth’s. Everything went smoothly.”
“Sounds great.” He nods. “Did Ricky take care of everything?”
“Yes sir,” I assure him. “He works well when he wants to.”
“I’m glad to hear it. How was the first day of school?”
“It was school.” I shrug.
“That’s funny.” He chuckles. “My daughter said the same thing to me when I texted her earlier.”
The thought of Mr. West texting makes me laugh.
“Yeah, school isn’t anything special. But I’ve got to get home so I can take care of Davie.”
“Right.” He nods. “I’ll be here for a while. Thanks for your hard work, Crash. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Bye, Mister West.”
Work is just a couple of blocks from the hotel, so I walk quickly on the busy sidewalks. It’s starting to get dark, but I’m not scared.
I get to the Eagle and hurry up to our room. When I get there, Davie is in front of the television eating beanie weenies and watching Nickelodeon. Janey is sitting at the small round table doing her homework.
“Hey,” I say and shut the door.
“Crash!” Davie gets up and hugs me.
“What’s up, little man?”
He hurries back in front of the television. Janey gathers up her stuff and shoves it in her bag.
“Hey, Janey.” I smile.
She doesn’t look directly at me. “Hey,” she mumbles.
“Thanks for watching him. My mom will pay you at the end of the week.”
“No problem.” Her voice is so quiet. She’s got on way too much eyeliner. And black fingernail polish, God. I’ll never understand the emo chicks.
“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.” I open the door for her and she walks right out.
“See ya.”
I close the door and shake my head. Girls.
“How was school, Davie?” I sit down next to him on the bed and take a bite of his beans.
“Great!” He doesn’t look away from the television. “My teacher is pretty.”
“Oh God,” I groan. I open a package of Ramen noodles and put it in a bowl with some water. I put it in the microwave. This has been my dinner for the last two years.
“When is Mom gonna be home?” Davie turns to me.
“Soon,” I assure him.
When my pasta is done, I sit down next to him and we watch Nickelodeon until it is time for him to take a shower. We eat two of the cherry danishes Ruby gave me. My mom still isn’t home. I check over his homework while he brushes his teeth.
At 8:30, Davie crawls into bed. I sit at the table and do my math problems and flip through channels on the television.
My mom gets home around nine. She looks exhausted when she comes into the room.
“Hey, Honey.” She runs her hands through her hair and puts her purse down. “Sorry, the diner was packed.”
“No problem,” I assure her. “How was work?”
“Terrible, as usual.” She sits down across from me. “How was school?”
“The usual.” I shrug. “My classes suck, but it’ll be okay. I’ve got statistics this semester.”
“Bummer,” she sighs. “I brought you some banana pudding.” She hands me a Styrofoam bowl and a plastic spoon.
“Awesome,” I take the bowl and spoon and scoop up some of the banana pudding. It is my favorite from the diner. But I also know that she brings it to me when she’s trying to avoid a fight.
I wait for it.
“I’m gonna go out for a few hours.”
I knew it. “But you just got here,” I protest.
“I know, Honey. But I’ve had a long day. I just want to get out and have a little fun.”
“Me too.”
“Don’t be like this, Crash. Not tonight. Please?”
“Who is he?” I demand.
“It’s not like that,”she insists. “We’re just going out for a few drinks. That’s it.”
“What’s his name?”
She sighs. “His name is Mark. And that’s all you need to know for now.” I don’t say anything. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” I ask sarcastically. I get up, take my shirt off, and pull back the covers on the bed where Davie is already asleep. “I hope you have fun. And don’t worry, Davie got his dinner and I made sure all of his homework was done. I went ahead and signed the parent forms too.”
“Winston,” she starts.
“Don’t call me that.” I push her hand away as she tries to touch my face. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
I get into bed. She goes into the bathroom and turns on the shower. A few minutes later, she comes out and gets dressed. I hear her putting on her makeup and fixing her hair. She picks up her purse and walks around to my side of the bed. I close my eyes so she’ll think I’m asleep. Her perfume is strong. She leans over me and kisses Davie, then me.
Then she leaves. I say a quick prayer. Please keep her safe.
I can’t stand to lose another one.

September 25: Samantha

Samantha



The morning sun streams in on my bed. I crawl farther under the covers to hide my eyes. My alarm clock beeped ten minutes ago.
“Sammy, sweetheart.” A hand ruffles my hair. “You’ve got to get up for school.”
My mom lifts the covers off of me. I turn over and see her smiling so hard her face has to hurt. She is already dressed, looking perfect as usual.
“Get up,” she repeats.
“I’m up.”
She puts her hands on her hips. I sit up slowly and run my fingers through my hair. It is blonde, the color of sand. Just like hers. She smoothes her own hair, curled perfectly at her shoulders.
“I’m getting up, I promise.” I throw my feet over the side.
“Alright.” She sighs. “Breakfast is in half an hour.” She walks to the door and turns around again. “Put your smile on.”
I force my mouth to curl up at the sides. She smiles back at me and leaves, closing the door softly behind her. My smile disappears and I lay back down. I hate when she says that.
My phone vibrates on the nightstand. I check it: four text messages from my girls and one from Anderson. They are all excited for the first day of school. I can barely force myself out of bed.
I lay there for another ten minutes and then get up to take a shower. I wash my hair and condition it twice, like my mom always taught me. I put my makeup on quickly. My mom was a pageant queen, so she always wears too much makeup. I don’t like to wear a lot, but she keeps buying it for me anyway. I straighten my hair quickly and hurry to get dressed.
Mom helped me pick the outfit out. Faded new jeans and a pale pink polo. I put on the pearl earrings I got for my sixteenth birthday and my new Sperry shoes. I look at myself in the long mirror by the window. The jeans look great, the shirt is nice. My hair is perfect, my makeup is flawless. I look like a princess, a pageant girl.
I want to punch the mirror.
“Samantha,” my mom calls. I unclench my fists.
I pick up my new Vera Bradley bags and head downstairs. She is in the kitchen with my dad. He is at the breakfast table reading the newspaper. She is putting our breakfast on plates. Her apron is starch white without a single wrinkle. A perfect housewife.
“Good morning, Daddy.” I sit down across from my dad.
“Good morning, Princess.” He sips his orange juice and looks up from the paper. “You look beautiful.”
“Thanks.” I smile.
Mom puts our plates in front of us. He has French toast with whipped cream and strawberries. I have scrambled egg whites and grapes. And wheat toast with no butter.
“What is this?”
“It’s a nice healthy breakfast.” Mom hangs her apron up and takes a sip of her coffee. “It’ll keep you going until lunch.”
“I’d rather have French toast,” I mumble.
“And I’d rather you fit into that cheerleading uniform we just paid for.” She smiles sarcastically. “Your metabolism isn’t what it used to be, Samantha. Remember that.”
We are all silent for a second.
“So.” My dad finally breaks the silence. “Are you ready for senior year?”
“Yeah,” I say and take a bite of the egg whites. They need salt. “I’m ready for the games to start.”
“I’m sure you are.” He nods and puts the newspaper down.
“Are you going to try to make it to a game this year, Daddy?” I raise my eyebrows.
He looks at his watch, not me. “I’m certainly going to try.” He stands up. “I’ve got to head to the office. I’ll see you ladies tonight.”
“What time will you be home?” Mom asks.
“I’m not sure.” Dad kisses her cheek quickly and then bends down to kiss my forehead. “Have a great day at school.”
“Thanks, Daddy.”
He leaves. Mom picks up his dishes. He ate one bite of the French toast. She throws the rest away. I force the dry toast down my throat and wash it down with orange juice. I eat all of the grapes. She scrubs the counters. I reach under the table and feed pieces of egg whites to my dog, Boots. I put my dishes in the sink. She rinses them and puts them in the dishwasher. She keeps scrubbing the counters. I get my bags and my keys and leave.
We don’t say goodbye.
I start my car from the front porch. It has an automatic starter button. I don’t know why; my dad thought it would be helpful. It is a blue BMW convertible. I always thought it was the color of the sky on a perfect, cloudless day. It was my senior gift; I was perfectly happy with my old car.
Across the street, I see Audrey Oliver getting in the car with her mother. I know they won’t buy her a car until graduation. I offered to give her my old one, but they refused. I wonder if she even knows.
Ruby St. Clair, my neighbor has already left. Of course she has; the president has to get to school early. I think that girl is Wonder Woman in disguise.
I get in the car and call my best friend, Lena. She picks up on the second ring.
“What’s up?” She asks. Her voice is deep and always harsh, even when she is happy.
“I’m pulling out now.”
“Me too,” she says.
“See you in a few minutes. Love you.” I don’t wait for her to respond; I just hang up the phone and put my sunglasses on.
I drive pretty fast to school. These streets are second nature to me. I pass through my Suburban dreamland and whiz through town. I pass through little Puerto Rico on West Division Street, even though my parents tell me not to. I know it’s dangerous. All of life is a danger zone.
I pull into Five Points and find a spot up front. A lot of people are already here, excited for the start of a new year. I should be just as excited as them. I am royalty here. I am the captain of the cheerleading squad, I am dating the hottest boy in school, my parents are rich, my teachers love me, and I have a ton of friends. People envy me without knowing me. To them, I am beautiful and perfect. But they only see the outside. My mom was a pageant queen; I know how to put on a smile. None of them really know me.
Anderson is waiting for me at his truck. He gets a reserved spot because he is the football captain. He is like a king here.
“Took you long enough,” he says with a smile when he sees me.
“Sorry.” I smile back.
“You look beautiful.” He looks me up and down. I am glad he approves, because if he didn’t, he would tell me.
“Thanks.” I put my arm around his waist and we start towards the front doors. “You look good, too.”
“Is everything okay?”
Sometimes, Anderson notices. I hate when he notices because I have to make up an excuse and insist that I am okay.
I nod and smile. “Yep. I’m just little nervous for the first day, that’s all.”
“Don’t be.” He puts his arm around me. “This is our year, babe. We are going to rule the school.”
He opens the front doors and I suck in a breath. When we walk through the front lobby, people look at us like we are the king and queen on a giant float in the middle of a parade. They all stop and stare at us. Everyone turns their heads as we pass through.
At the back of the lobby, the blacks and the Hispanics stop what they are doing for a few seconds to stare at us. Most of them hate us. We hate most of them, too. We walk through the double doors and into a sea of our peers. Most of our friends are here. They all turn and see us and start to cheer loudly.
“It’s about time you guys got here,” say James, Anderson’s best friend.
“Blame it on her.” Anderson points to me. “You know chicks always take forever to get ready.”
“Sam!” I hear several voices behind me. I turn around and see my girls.
We’ve all been friends since we were little. We grew up together, did pageants together when we were smaller. We’ve been cheering together since elementary school. People who don’t know us call us ‘clones,’ or ‘robots.’ But we are actually all very different.
Jade’s hair is long and straight. It is blonde, but almost brown, like cashews. She is the quiet one. Her eyes are the color of kiwi, and her blue v-neck shirt shows them off well. She’s never had a boyfriend. No boy is good enough for her, although all of them have tried. She goes to church every Sunday with her family. People think she is a slut, like they think the rest of us are. I’m the only one who knows she’s still a virgin.
Ivy is the flirt. She is gorgeous. Her hair is blonde, too. It goes all the way down her back and looks perfect every day. She can do anything to it and it looks amazing. It is the color of sunshine. She literally glows no matter where she is. She is short, with big boobs and harsh blue eyes. She wears a lot of makeup, but she still looks beautiful. She’s been with the most guys out of all of us. She is wearing a short yellow skirt and a tight white v-neck. It shows off her curves perfectly. I know all of the boys are watching her.
Reece has short blonde hair. She is as skinny as a rail and she knows it. She has a lot of money; her dad is the sheriff and her mom was born with money. She makes sure everyone knows it, too. Her hair is so blonde that it’s almost white. A lot of our friends call her ‘Platinum,’ for more reasons than one. She fulfills every dumb blonde stereotype. I think I actually hate her. I could have her out of this group in a second. But I bite my tongue and smile at her.
Lena is my best friend. She is the only one who isn’t blonde. Her hair is dark like coffee. It’s wavy and hangs just past her shoulders. Her eyes are just as dark. She looks nothing like any of us. She is the meanest person I have ever met. She bullies the underclassmen, cheats on all of her boyfriends, and starts rumors. I don’t know why I still hang out with her, or if she really is my best friend. Our mothers are best friends, so we were expected to be at birth. Lena is a good person when she wants to be; I just don’t think she ever really wants to be.
“Hey girls,” I say to them with a smile. We all hug.
“It’s so good to see you!” Lena hugs me tightly for a few seconds longer than everyone else. She’s been in Milan all summer with her grandparents.
“You too,” I say with as much enthusiasm as I can.
They all start chattering away so fast that I can barely understand what they are saying. All of our friends crowd around and talk to me. They are all starved for my attention; I haven’t seen many of them all summer. We’ve all been gone on family vacations around the world and spending our time by the pool at the country club.
After a few minutes of the generic “how was your summer,” Ivy grabs my hands.
“I’m planning a girls’ night Friday.” Her eyes sparkle. She loves planning things. “Girly drinks, chick flicks, nail polish, ice cream and Cosmo. Don’t make any plans.”
“We’re going to bring in senior year the right way,” Reece says.
I nod my head and smile. “Sounds good to me.”
“Hey Sam,” someone says beside me. It is Ruby, the student body president. She looks beautiful, as always. But I can see that she’s nervous being around all of us. “I think Anderson was waiting outside for you.”
“Yeah, I know.” I smile. “We walked in together, but he disappeared with the boys. I’ll find him later.” I touch her arm. "I hope you have a great day!”
“You too.” She smiles. Her teeth are perfect. She walks away. Everyone thinks I’m perfect. But Ruby is the perfect one.
I feel an arm around my shoulders and Anderson’s smell takes over. I know he is next to me without having to look up at him. I smile genuinely this time.
“You okay?” He whispers in my ear.
I just nod and draw myself closer into him.
He kisses my cheek and doesn’t say anything else. We stand there like that until the bell rings: the king and queen, in the center of their court. The cheerleading captain and the football star. We are perfect.
So they think.
“Are you sure everything is okay?” Anderson still has his arm around me while we walk to homeroom.
“I’m fine,” I assure him. “Just first day jitters, that’s all.” I smile to reinforce my fineness.
Anderson can see right through me. He is the only one who knows me. Because we are the same person. We are loved by everyone, feared by everyone. People would kill to be in our shoes. We have the world in our hands. But each of us would give it up in a second for just a moment of normality. He gets me. He is mine. He is the one. I’m almost sure of it.
He kisses my forehead and we stop outside of my classroom. “Okay, Doll.” I love when he calls me Doll. “I’ll see you after homeroom.”
“Okay. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” He kisses me and starts down the hallway, his friends calling after him.
I don’t know many people in my homeroom, even though I’ve had homeroom with them for four years. I don’t know many people in this school outside of my group. Five Points is all about cliques. We all know our place, and we stay there. I recognize Crash, who works for my dad’s landscaping business. He is talking about something and the kids around him are laughing. He’s the funny guy I guess.
Nobody has changed much. A few people have haircuts or have grown a few inches, but overall, everyone looks exactly the same as they did freshman year. People don’t change much here.
Mr. Burns stands in front of the class and reads off the roster. He reads down the list of familiar names.
“Winston Law,” he says in his stern monotone.
“Come on, Mister Burns.” Crash throws his hands up. “You know it’s Crash.”
Mr. Burns rolls his eyes while the class cracks up. He hands Crash his schedule and continues down the roster.
I’m at the end of the list, like always. I am ready to get my schedule and see if I have any classes with my friends.
The morning announcements start on the television, but Mr. Burns keeps calling out the names. Ruby is on the screen giving us the announcements. I can tell she’s nervous.
“Samantha West.” Mr. Burns finally calls my name, but I don’t have to raise my hand. He knows who I am and hands me my schedule card. He winks and smiles; I turn the other way.
My schedule is just the way I wanted it. I have AP Biology first period, English second period, Psychology third period, and Pottery fourth period. This semester is going to be easy.
“Thank you Boomers, and have a great first day.” Ruby smiles at the screen before it cuts out.
The bell rings a few seconds later and I wait outside of my classroom for Anderson. I see his head towering over the other people in the hallway. He is so tall.
He grabs my hand and we start down the hall towards our lobby. “English second period?” he asks.
“Fossett?” I raise my eyebrows.
He nods and smiles.
“Yes!” I hug him in the middle of the hall. Everyone looks at us; some of them coo, and others clap. I don’t pay attention.
“I also have US history, chemistry, and weight training.” He puts his arm back around me and we walk into the lobby where our friends are.
“Do you have C lunch?”
“Of course.”
I am happy with our schedules. One class and lunch together is just enough. I don’t get to see him too much during football season. We are both always at practice and we have so much going on all the time.
He goes to the boys and I go to my girls. We all get out our cards and compare schedules. We all have the same lunch and I have pottery with Jade and Ivy. None of them would ever take AP Biology.
“I’m pissed that we don’t have any classes together.” Lena sighs.
“Me too,” I agree. “But we’ll see each other all the time at practice and stuff. It’ll be okay; this is our year.”
We hug and the other girls join in. The bell rings and we all head in our respective directions. Anderson grabs my hand and we walk together.
“Do you guys start practice today?” He asks.
“No, we don’t start until tomorrow.” I shake my head. “I am going to the soup kitchen today.”
“Why,” he huffs. “You know I don’t like you going over there. It’s not safe on that side of town.”
“I know.” I roll my eyes. “But it looks good on my college applications, and I like doing it.”
“I just don’t think you should be going there alone.” Anderson shakes his head.
“Well, come with me then.”
“You know I can’t. I have practice.”
“I know.” I nod. We stop outside of my classroom and he kisses my cheek.
“Have fun in class. I’ll see you in English.” He rubs my hair.
“Bye,” I say and go into the classroom.
Mrs. Buchanan is a great teacher. I love biology because of her and I am really excited about taking AP this semester She‘s the one who helped me decided on veterinary studies in college. She is sitting on her desk eating trail mix as we all file in. When the second bell rings, she jumps off the desk and brushes her hands off.
“Hey everyone,” she says in her cheery voice. She’s in her mid-fifties, but doesn’t really look it.
I know a few people in the class, but none of them are really my friends.
I sit down next to Carson, my lab partner from last year. He smiles and pushes his glasses against his face.
“Hey Sam,” he says with a big smile.
I smile back. “Hey Carson. How was your summer? “
“Pretty good. How was yours?”
Before I can answer him, Mrs. Buchanan stands at the front of the class and claps her hands loudly. We all stop talking and focus on the crazy teacher in front of us.
“Okay people, let’s get started.” I can hear the excitement in her voice. It gets me excited too. “I’m assuming you are all here because you took biology, you loved biology, and you love me. Therefore, you want to explore biology further and you need an easy ‘A’.” She looks at us over her glasses. “Am I right?”
A few people laugh, some of them nod. She nods back and smiles. “ I thought so. Well, I’m delighted to see so many familiar faces. I hope this course will be just as fun for you as it is for me. If you try your hardest, I promise I will get you ready for the AP test in May.”
She goes on about the class, what we will be learning, and what she expects of us. She explains that most of our projects will be done with partners. I see Carson look at me out of the corner of my eye. I’ll partner with him. I know he’ll work hard and if things get too busy, I can count on him to get the project done without me.
“Your first project of the semester starts today.” She pulls a camera out of her desk. “Every day for the next four months or so, I want you to take a picture of something in nature. It can be anything, as long as it inspires you. Don’t just go outside and take pictures of a tree every day.”
We all laugh.
“I want you to take this seriously. Just walking around every day, I find something in nature that inspires me. I want you all to feel that inspiration. We are going to be discussing things in nature for the better part of the semester. So, get inspired. That is your assignment. At the end of the semester, I want you to turn the pictures into me in whatever way you see fit.”
“Can we make a collage?” Asks a girl a few seats away from me.
“Sure.” Mrs. Buchanan nods. “There are no limits to how you present your pictures. I just need to see that you were somehow inspired by the beauty that is all around you.”
She goes on, explaining some of the other projects we will be working on, and what she expects from us. The bell rings a few minutes later and we all clear out.
“So, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Carson says once we are out of the classroom.
“Sure thing.” I smile at him. I know that he likes me. But he knows that I have Anderson, and I know he would never overstep the boundaries.
I stop in our bathroom to see the girls and check my makeup. They are all chattering about their first periods when I get there.
“But, I know he’ll give me an A.” Ivy is saying as she applies a fresh coat of mascara. “He was staring at my boobs the entire class.”
“Of course he was,” Lena sneers. “I can practically see your nipples, they are so far out.”
Ivy tugs at her shirt and pulls it up.
“Hey ladies,” I say, fighting back the urge to smack Lena.
Ivy looks at me, relieved. “Hey, Sammy. How was your first class?”
“Good.”I shrug and pull out my makeup bag. We all put on fresh coats of makeup and gossip about our first periods.
“Did you guys see Ruby on the announcements?” Lena rolls her eyes. “She thinks she is so perfect because she’s president. I’d like to kick her off her high horse.”
“She’s not that bad,” I say in Ruby’s defense. “She did a good job on the announcements, considering it was her first day.”
“Whatever, she’s not as perfect as you think she is. She could use a slim fast.”
Reece laughs with her. My face gets hot. I stuff my lip gloss into the bag and hurry out of the bathroom. Ivy and Jade are hurrying beside me a few seconds later.
“What’s wrong?” Jade asks.
“Nothing,” I say. “I just need to get to English.”
“Are you sure?” Ivy puts her hand on my arm. “What was that about in the bathroom?”
“It’s nothing,” I assure them. “Anderson is waiting for me. I’ll see you guys at lunch.”
I walk ahead of them and leave them standing there, waiting for Lena and Reece. When I get to my English classroom, Anderson is waiting for me. He looks so good with his bag slung over his shoulder, his new jeans, and his tight gray v-neck. I’m so happy to call him mine.
“Hey, Doll.” He kisses my cheek.
“Sorry it took me so long.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He takes my hand and we walk into the classroom.
All eyes are on us as we do so. I thought I would be used to it by now. At first, it felt great. Sophomore year, once we were dubbed the cutest couple on campus, the king and queen of the school, I loved the attention. It felt good to know that everyone envied me, that everyone wanted to be me. That’s everyone’s goal in high school.
But not mine. Not anymore. Now the eyes that follow me burn my skin all over. I wish they would look away, look at themselves. I wish they would realize that my world is not all diamonds and rainbows. I am perfect in their eyes. If they only knew.
Anderson likes to sit in the back of the classroom, but I like to sit near the front. We find two seats in the middle, in the very center of the classroom. Everyone’s chatter stops for a second, but once we sit down, they commence.
“Okay, ladies and gentlemen, let’s get started.” Mr. Fossett says from the front of the room. “Welcome to Senior English, better known as your worst nightmare.”
A few students laugh. But I know he’s not joking. Mr. Fossett is a Marine. He’s the strictest, hardest teacher at Five Points. I had him for junior English and somehow passed with an A. I know that Anderson is going to need help getting through this class; he already looks nervous.
“This semester, we’re going to cover both American and British literature. You’ll also need to start thinking about the project that you’ve all been waiting for: senior project.”
Everyone groans.
“Yes, I know.” Mr. Fossett rubs his mustache. “But, I have full confidence that all of you will be very well prepared for your senior project if you pay attention and do your work.”
He slams his hand down on the podium in front of him and starts to read off the roster.
“Anderson Stone,” he says with a firm voice.
Anderson raises his hand. “Right here.”
“Stone,” Mr. Fossett says again. “The star quarterback, am I right?”
“Yes sir,” Anderson says with pride.
“Interesting.” Mr. Fossett runs his fingers over his long gray mustache. “I hope you don’t think that football practice or a broken fibula is any excuse for not turning in a response on Heart of Darkness.”
Anderson doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. My face gets hot.
“Uh, no Sir.” He finally speaks.
“Very well then.” Mr. Fossett nods once and continues down the roll sheet.
“Samantha West,” he says my name and looks around the room for me.
“Here.” I hold up my hand and smile.
“Ah, good to see you again, Miss West.”
“You too.” I nod.
He looks back at Anderson, but speaks to me. “Don’t let this boyfriend of yours keep you from doing what needs to be done this semester, alright Miss West?”
“Of course not.” I chuckle with him and flash Anderson a smile. He doesn’t smile back.
Mr. Fossett jumps right into our first reading assignment. “The first novel you will be reading in this class is Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness. It’s not an easy read, but you all aren’t juniors anymore. I expect only the best from you.”
He looks right at Anderson. I’m starting to think that begging Anderson to take this class with me instead of the easy Senior English with all of his friends was a bad idea.
“Before you leave class today, be sure to grab a copy of the novel from the back corner.” Mr. Fossett points to the back. “I want you to read the first two chapters for class tomorrow. Now, let’s start talking about your senior projects.”
Everyone groans. I can see in their faces that they have already started to tune him out. It seems like it takes forever for the bell to ring. When it does, Anderson grabs books for us and I follow him out into the hallway.
“Well, that should be an interesting class,” I say with as much enthusiasm as possible.
“Yeah, right.” Anderson rolls his eyes. “The guy hates me.”
“He hates all jocks,” I assure him.
“Don’t call me that.” Anderson takes his arm from around my shoulders.
“I’m sorry.” I grab his hand. “Don’t be mad at me. We can do the assignments together.”
“Like I’m going to have time.” He rolls his eyes.
“Come on,” I push. “Think about it. Late night study parties at my place. And the faster we get done with our work, the faster we can…” I don’t finish. But I know he gets the idea because his face breaks into a smile.
“Alright, my little cheerleader.” He puts his arm back around me. “I’ve gotta get to chemistry. I’ll see you at lunch.”
He kisses me on the forehead and is down the hall before I can say goodbye.
I walk to psychology alone, but every three seconds, someone greets me. I smile and wave to them, answer the generic ’how was your summer’ questions, and am relieved when I get to my classroom.
I am one of the last people to get to class, so I’m forced to sit in the back. I open my notebook, excited for this class. I know it is going to be a good one. Once again, I recognize several of the people in my class, but none of them are my friends.
“Alright, settle down.” My teacher, whom I’ve never seen before stands up in front of us.
“I’m sure many of you were expecting Misses Parker.” His voice is soft. He is young. “As you can see, I am not her. My name is Conner Reid. I’m new here at Five Points, so I hope you’ll all help me feel welcome.”
A few people laugh. A guy in the front row raises his hand. “How old are you?”
Mr. Reid chuckles. “I knew someone was going to ask that. I am twenty-four years old. I have been out of college for about four months. So no, I’m not too much older than most of you. But, that doesn’t mean that I don’t know what I’m talking about.”
He adjusts his glasses. I have to admit -as guilty as it makes me feel- that he is hot. He’s wearing a long-sleeved gray shirt with a blue sweater vest over top ot it. His khaki pants are ironed and his shoes look brand new. His hair is dark and curls just a little bit on the sides. He wears thick-rimmed, square black glasses.
“I want this class to be as much fun as possible. I know most of you are probably taking this class as a bird course, but my goal is to show you that psychology is actually very interesting. I want you to learn something about yourselves by the end of the semester. Fair enough?”
Everyone nods. “Okay,” he says. “Let’s get the attendance out of the way. I‘ll try to learn your names as quickly as possible.” He reads down the roster, and as always, I am the last to be called.
“Samantha West,” he says and looks around the room.
I raise my hand. “Right here.”
He looks at me, smiles, and puts the roster away. I don’t know what I was expecting him to do. I’m used to more of reaction when guys see me for the first time. Then again, Mr. Reid isn’t a fourteen-year old freshman with acne and a drooling problem.
“Okay, let’s get started. First, I want to talk about-” He is interrupted by the door swinging open.
In walks Riley Sutton in all of his leather and chains glory. He stands in the doorway for a second, posed like he is on the page of some glossy magazine.
“Oh,” Mr. Reid says, startled. “You must be…” He looks over the roster sheet.
“Sutton,” Riley says in his deep voice. “Riley Sutton.”
A few people chuckle; most of the girls stare with their mouths gaped open. Some of the guys roll their eyes. Riley is hot. We all know it.
“Okay, great.” Mr. Reid makes a mark on the roster. “Could you try to be on time for class tomorrow, Riley?”
“Sure thing.” Riley nods once and walks towards the back of the room.
I look down at my desk. Please don’t sit next to me. Please don’t sit next to me.
He sits down right beside me. A sigh escapes my lips.
Mr. Reid continues as Riley laughs softly.
“Looking good, West,” he whispers to me.
“You smell like cigarettes,” I whisper back.
“Come on. Don’t tell me you don’t need a smoke break to keep yourself sane in this place.” He smiles. I wish his teeth weren’t so perfect. And his lips. And his eyes, that droop down like some sort of cute puppy. But Riley is not a cute puppy. He is a pit bull.
“I’m doing just fine in this place, thank you.” I stare straight ahead. “Maybe if you’d come to class, you would be doing fine too.”
“I’m here aren’t I?” He shrugs, still looking at me.
“For now. We’ll see how long that lasts.”
“I’ll be here every day,” he says. “I’ve got something to look forward to now.”
His voice makes my skin sizzle and my stomach crawl at the same time. Rule number one of Five Points High School: Riley Sutton is bad. Riley Sutton is the enemy. If Anderson ever saw me talking to him, he’d blow up.
Riley must be reading my thoughts. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell Anderson that you talked to me. It’ll be our little secret.”
“Shut up,” I say softly. I force myself to ignore Riley and focus on Mr. Reid. It’s not as hard as it may seem, because Mr. Reid gets more and more beautiful the more I stare at him.
The bell rings and I get up quickly. Riley gets up too, and follows right behind me out of the classroom.
“Stop it, Riley,” I say without looking back.
“What am I doing?”
“Just leave me alone.” I turn to him now. “And tomorrow, don’t sit beside me.”
“Why are you talking to her?” I hear a female voice behind me. The one voice I despise the most.
I turn around, and my suspicions are confirmed. Evelyn.
“We weren’t talking.” I put my hand on my hip. “I’m leaving now.”
“That’s probably a good idea.” Evelyn stares hard at me.
Almost a year ago, Anderson cheated on me with the school slut. He claims he was drunk and made the hugest mistake of his life. I still don’t completely trust him. It took everything in me to forgive him. But now, the mere sight of Evelyn Rhodes makes me sick.
I want nothing more than to rip her eyes out in this moment. I want to claw at her throat and make her hurt. But I don’t.
“You can have him.” I point to Riley. “I have a boyfriend. You know, the one who you thought you could steal from me by sleeping with him when he was drunk.”
“He wasn’t that drunk.” Evelyn insists. “And besides,” she says and gets right in my face. “Drunk or not, he knows I was better than you’ll ever be.”
“Ladies,” Riley pulls on Evelyn’s arm and she backs away from me.
Before the tears start to form, I turn away from them. I let out slow breaths and try to get my face cooled down.
Anderson is waiting for me by his locker with James, a few boys from the team, and Ivy.
“Here she is,” James says when he sees me.
“Sorry,” I say with a smile.
“Let’s go,” says Nick. He’s a tight end, one of our friends since freshman year.
Anderson grabs my hand and we all head towards the cafeteria. I push a smile onto my face to hide my anger from what just happened with Evelyn. Anderson squeezes my hand, but I just want to pull away from him. Sometimes it’s hard to look at him, knowing what he did. It makes me question our whole relationship. I try not to let it bother me.
“Here we go,” he says once we’re outside of the cafetria. The double doors are open and we walk through them.
All of our friends are sitting in our section already. We head over there, and they all get excited.
“Took you long enough,” says Reece.
Anderson and I sit down in the middle of our table. Ivy and Jade sit on my right side, Lena, Reece, and our friend Maya sit across from me. Anderson’s boys sit on his side of the table: James, Nick, Tommie, and Ethan. The rest of our friends crowd around us at the surrounding tables. Conversations range from football to the new issue of Cosmo to the ball at the country club in a few weeks.
“I can’t eat anymore,” Maya says. I can see that she’s only eaten a few carrot sticks.
Reece isn’t eating anything. Ivy and Jade are stuffing their faces. I pick at the humus and crackers my mom packed for me. I want a bite of Anderson’s cheeseburger, but I know I shouldn’t. I sneak one of his fries while he’s going over one of their new plays.
“I think David wants to take things to the next level,” Ivy says through bites of her tuna sandwich.
“What?” Reece raises an eyebrow. “I thought he was just a summer fling?”
“He was,” Ivy assures her. “But he’s really cute. And he’s so nice, you guys.”
“I say go for it.” I nod. “He seems like a good guy.”
“I say cut him loose.” Maya shakes her head. “Guys are douche bags. He’s not going to do anything but screw you up.”
“Someone’s still bitter over their breakup.” Reece rolls her eyes in Maya’s direction.
“I’m just saying.” Maya shrugs.
“She’s just saying,” Jade interrupts. “Do whatever makes you happy. David is cute. If you think he’ll be a good boyfriend, go for it.”
“Lord knows you need to be tied down anyway,” Lena says sarcastically.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Ivy sounds surprised at Lena’s bitchiness.
“Nothing.” Lena shrugs it off. “I’m just saying, you’re getting towards Evelyn Rhodes status.”
The sound of her name makes me cringe. Ivy cringes too.
“Don’t ever compare me to that slut.” Ivy throws her sandwich down.
I put my hand on Anderson’s leg and turn to his friends. I ignore the girls and their bad attitudes and focus on what Anderson is saying about some new song.
Everyone around me is loud and plastic. They are all fake. I nod with them, laugh with them, smile with them. I force myself to appear to be one of them. But if you look past my perfect pageant smile, you’ll see that it’s all just an act.
A few minutes before the lunch period ends, Lena grabs her purse. “Let’s go to the bathroom.” We always go to the bathroom at the end of lunch to freshen up.
I hesitate for a second, but follow them to the bathroom.
“I’m sorry for calling you Evelyn.” Lena turns to Ivy. “Nobody is as bad as her, right Sammy?”
“Definitely not,” I mumble.
“I hear she’s with Riley Sutton now,” Maya says.
“Oh God, they deserve each other.” Reece laughs, and the rest of them do too. I force a chuckle.
We walk into our bathroom, where Audrey Oliver is standing at the sink. She’s one of Lena’s favorite targets.
“What are you doing in here, Brainiac?” Lena puts her hands on her hips.
Audrey dries her hands really fast and blinks. “I just needed to use the bathroom.”
“This is our bathroom,” says Jade.
“I’m sorry; I didn’t think anyone would be in here.” Audrey starts towards the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Lena shoves her hard.
“The bell’s about ring.” Audrey looks at the floor.
Lena puts her hands back on Audrey‘s chest. “Did your boobs grow over the summer, Brainiac? Or did you just start stuffing?”
“I think she stuffs.” Reece laughs her annoying laugh.
Audrey pulls her cardigan tightly over her chest. I should say something; I’ve known Audrey since we were little.
“Don’t try to hide them.” Lena pulls on her arms. “Maybe if you show them off you’ll get some action and you won’t be such a prude.”
“Nah, she’ll still be a prude.” Ivy shakes her head. “Nothing will change that.”
“Let’s give her some shots and some lip gloss.” Maya pulls out her makeup bag.
“Would you like that, Bloody Mary?” Lena pulls on Audrey’s hair. She gave her the nickname Bloody Mary back in fourth grade, because Audrey’s hair is dark red, like blood.
“I just want to go to class.” Audrey tries to push past her.
Lena pushes her again. “You’re in my territory now, Brainiac. I decide when you leave. You know the rules.”
I pull out my Blackberry nervously. “You guys, the bell’s about to ring and we still need to freshen up. Let’s let her slide this time.”
“Are you serious?” Lena turns to me.
“We’ll get a freshman after school,” I shrug. “Come on.” I make the first move to the mirror and start applying fresh makeup.
“You’re lucky.” Lena points at Audrey. “Stay out of my bathroom.”
Audrey hurries out of the bathroom.
“I can’t believe you let her go like that,” Lena stands at the sink beside of me. “You’re getting soft.”
“Not soft,” I finish putting on my lipgloss. “Just sick of the same old shit. We’re seniors this year. Let’s start acting like it.”
I don’t wait for them to finish. The bell rings and I’m already out of the bathroom heading towards the arts building.
I’m one of the first people in my pottery class. Jade and Ivy get there shortly after me. They take a seat on the stools on either side of me.
“What was that all about?” Ivy looks at me.
“Nothing,” I insist. “Just Lena being Lena. I didn’t mean to snap on her.”
“It’s okay.” Jade sighs. “She kind of deserves it sometimes.”
“Yeah,” Ivy agrees.
The class fills up and soon our teacher comes in. Ms. Wright has wavy, short blonde hair, round glasses, and is tiny. Her hands are still dirty from her last class. I am fascinated by her already.
“Okay,” she says and claps her hands. “I want everybody to start by making a name tag for yourself.” She sets a bucket of markers on every table and hands us all a name tag. “Decorate it however you want to, and when I call the roll, stand up, put your name tag on, and tell us something about yourself. Go.”
We all start decorating. I write my name with an orange marker and draw pink flowers all around it.
A few minutes later, she begins calling out the roll.
“Ivy Adams.”
Ivy shoots up and sticks her name tag right over her left boob. “Hey, I’m Ivy.” Her smile is gorgeous. “And I love the beach.”
A few people chuckle softly. I love Ivy in all of her complete ignorance.
Ms. Wright fights back her own laughter and continues down the roll. “Jade Henson.”
Jade’s name is written plainly in green marker and she puts the tag on her stomach.
“I’m Jade.” She pauses for a few seconds. “And I can speak three languages.” Everyone waits for her to explain. “I can speak English, German, and French.”
“Oui oui,” says Ms. Wright with a chuckle.
Finally she gets to my name. “Samantha West.”
“Hey, I’m Sam.” I say once I’ve stood up. I put the name tag on my chest. “And I love helping people.”
“Sounds great,” Ms. Wright says. She stands up. “Well, it seems like we’ve got a very diverse class this semester. That means that I can expect a variety of work from you guys.”
She passes out a syllabus and goes over the rules for her class. She tells us what projects we’ll be working on, and how fun the class is going to be. Ivy taps away on her cell phone for the entire ninety minute period. Jade draws in her notebook. I watch the clock and count down the seconds.
When the bell rings, the three of us hurry out to the parking lot. Today is our only practice-free day. The girls are going to Scoops for yogurt, but I’ve got to get to the soup kitchen to start volunteering.
We all hang out by our cars for a few minutes. I don’t know where Anderson is, but I want to say goodbye to him before I leave.
“Call me tonight,” Ivy says and hugs me.
“I will,” I assure her.
A loud revving sound comes from the other side of the parking lot. Everyone turns. It’s Riley on his harley. Evelyn is on the back, holding onto his waist. They speed out of the parking lot, a trail of smoke behind them.
“God, he is such a stud.” Maya mumbles.
“You’re disgusting.” Reece rolls her eyes. “Get in the car.” She and Maya get in her car and after blowing kisses speed out of the lot.
“I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” I hug Jade and Ivy again and they get in Jade’s Jeep.
Lena is nowhere to be found, and I’m not too worried about it. Suddenly, Anderson is behind me, his hands around my waist.
“Gotcha,” he whispers.
I just laugh. “I was wondering where you were. I have to get over to the soup kitchen.”
“Yeah, I gotta get ready for practice.” He puts his hands in his pockets.
“Well, don’t get hurt.”
“You either.” He smiles, but I know he’s being serious.
“I won’t.”
“And you’ll call me when you get home?”
“Of course,” I assure him and put my arms around his neck. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Doll.” He kisses me long and sweet before opening the door for me. “Be safe.”
I blow him another kiss before leaving the parking lot. He waves and then runs back into the school.
I head through downtown in the traffic towards the soup kitchen. I’ve been volunteering there all summer with my church and I decided to keep doing it when I can during the school year.
South Haven is always filled with people. Dinner is going to be served soon, so I am just in time to help with the preparations. It’s a Monday, which means it is meatloaf night.
I park my car in the back lot and hurry inside. The air is already getting cold. I head towards the back and into the kitchen, where Joan, the founder, and some of the other volunteers are steady at work.
“Hey guys,” I say with a smile.
The food smells great and I wash my hands so I can get stared.
“Hey Sam,” they all reply.
“How was your first day?” Joan looks up from cutting vegetables.
I shrug. “It was school. Nothing special. How many we got coming in tonight?”
“There are already forty or so lined up outside.” Mack, one of the younger volunteers turns to me. He is just a few years older than me.
“We’ll probably get a hundred or so.” Joan smiles.
I grab a few carrots and start chopping next to her. We all talk about our days. Joe tells jokes that he thinks are funny; we all laugh with him. These people have become a second family to me over the last few months. They are certainly more sane than my real one.
After about an hour in the kitchen, the food is almost ready. Mack and I go out into the dining room to set up the tables.
“So, your first day of senior year was nothing special?” He scowls at me as he puts silverware at each chair.
“Not really,” I shrug. “I mean, it’s school. I’m just ready to get it over with and get out of here.”
“I feel you,” Mack agrees. “Well, I hope things get a little more special for you.”
I push my hair behind my ears and nod. “Me too.”
“We’re going to start letting them in.” Joan comes out a few minutes later. “Everyone put on your smiles.”
I’m in charge of drinks today. I get behind the drink table and make sure there are plenty of cups filled with red juice and tea. The regulars start to pile in, single file. They are all chattering away. My heart is instantly warmed when I see their faces. My smile, for the first time today, is not a fake one.
“Hey boys,” I say to some of my favorite guys when they stop by the drink table.
“Good to see ya,” says Mike. He’s about fifty years old, but he looks older.
Once everyone has been served, I make my rounds to each table. I sit down and talk with everyone, both the old faces and the new ones. They all seem to be enjoying the meatloaf.
I grab a few plates of cherry pie and sit down with Mike and a few of his buddies.
“How was school today, young lady?” he asks and scoops up a bite of pie.
“It was great,” I lie.
“Are you ready for the football season to start?” Louis looks at me. He used to play football when he was in high school; before he dropped out. He’s been living on the streets since 1989.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Tony chuckles. He’s one of the younger regulars, in his late twenties. “Well you’re the captain, Miss Cheerleader. You better be ready.”
“Oh I am,” I assure them. “Tell me about your day, boys. How’s the life of the rich and famous?”
They all laugh.
“You’re the only one who knows about that, Sammy.” Mike pats me on the back. “But it was a good day today. We did some scrounging, played some basketball with a few kids down on Fifth street.”
“Oh really?” I ask. “Did you show them how it’s done?”
“Of course.” Louis pats his full stomach. “The old man’s still got it.”
I look at my watch. It’s almost six. “I should be getting home, boys. I’ve got homework to do.”
They all groan. “Can’t you stay just a little while longer?” Mike touches my hand. “You’re the prettiest thing we get to look at all day.”
They guys laugh.
“I wish I could,” I say genuinely. “But my boyfriend insists that I get home before dark, you know.”
“Your boyfriend’s a smart man,” says Louis. “It’s too dangerous for a girl like you to be out after dark around here.”
“You got that pepper spray I gave you last month?” Mike raises an eyebrow.
“Of course.” I nod. “It’s in my car. Now give me a hug.”
They all stand up and I hug each of them.
“Take care of yourself, young lady. Make us proud out there on the field.” Tony squeezes me.
“And in the classroom,” Louis stresses.
“I got it,” I insist. “I’ll see you boys in a week or so. Don’t get into too much trouble while I’m gone.”
“No promises.” Mike chuckles.
I say goodbye to the staff and head out to my car. I pull out my phone and text Anderson to let him know that I’m heading home. He probably isn’t out of practice yet, but he likes for me to text him anyway.
I get in the car and pull my pepper spray out of my purse, just to be safe. I turn up the radio and pull slowly out of the parking lot. I take the long way, because I know I’m less likely to run into trouble on the side streets.
I’m approaching Yang’s Minimart and the Laundromat when I see Brian Phillips and his stoner friends. He’s talking to some guy that I’ve never before. I slow the car down just as Brian starts to walk away with his crew. The kid doesn’t move. I stop the car next to him and roll down the window.
Anderson would kill me if he knew I was doing this.
“Do you need a ride?” I look up at him through the open window.
He looks at me for a second. He looks like he‘s only fourteen or so.“Uh, no thanks, I’m good.”
“Are you sure?” I flash a smile. “It’s kind of cold out there.”
He thinks about it for a few seconds, then shrugs.“Okay.” He opens the door and slides in.
Once he‘s situated, I smile again.“Hey,I’m Samantha.”
“Hey, Samantha.” He finally smiles. “I’m Alex.”
“Nice to meet you, Alex.” I pull back into the lane and turn down the radio. “Where am I headed?”
“Uh, right on Callahan.”He starts to fidget a little. He’s new here, I can tell.
“So you’re not from around here, are you?”
“How can you tell?” He looks at me.
“Because nobody walks around alone out here unless they are from out of town.”
“You’re alone.”
“Touché.” I giggle. “I volunteer sometimes at the soup kitchen a few blocks away.”
“That sounds fun,” His voice is sarcastic.
“It is,” I insist. “I love it. I get to meet lots of cool people.”
He doesn’t say anything. So I continue.
“It’s just fun to help people.”
“Yeah,” he says
“So where are you from?”I look at him for a second.
“Virginia,” he says. I can tell he‘s answered that one a lot today.“Take a left up here.” He points.
“What brings you all the way to Chicago?” I try to keep the conversation going.
“My dad met this woman online. I guess they fell in love, so he found a job up here and we moved.”I can tell he isn’t very excited about it.
“You don’t sound too happy about it.”
“I’m not.”
“Oh,” I mumble.
“I’m sorry.” He looks at me. “I’ve just had a really bad day. I shouldn’t be taking it out on the girl who gave me a ride.”
“It’s cool.” I smile. “I understand. You’re a freshman?”
“Yeah.” He nods.
“That’s cool. I’m a senior this year. I’m guessing you go to Five Points?”
“Unfortunately.” He sighs.
I feel his pain.“Don’t worry, it’s not as bad as you think.” I try to reassure him and pat his leg. He twitches a little. “You’ll make friends in no time.”
He shrugs. “I hope. I’m thinking about going out for the football team.”
“Oh really? My boyfriend, Anderson, he’s the captain this year.”
His shoulders kind of slump a little.“That’s cool,”
“Yeah, he’s great.” I turn to him. “But don’t be upset if you don’t make it. Freshmen usually don’t.”
“I heard.”
“If you play tennis, we’re always looking for new players on the tennis team.”
“Really?”
“Yeah!” I smile again; he probably thinks I’m way too happy. “I’ve been playing since I was little at my parents’ country club. It’s fun.”
“I used to play at our club back home,” He says.
“Awesome. You should definitely come out then. We need more guys.”
“Maybe I will.” He nods. “This is me up on the right.” He points to a small house, one that I recognize.
“Are you sure?” I scowl.
“Yeah.”
I‘m pretty sure this is Evelyn‘s house that I am stopped outside of.“Isn’t this where Evelyn Rhodes lives?”
“Yeah.” He seems surprised that I know that.“She’s my dad’s girlfriend’s daughter.”
“Oh...” I pick at my thumbnail. “That’s cool.”
“Not really.” He shakes his head, which makes me smile. “Thanks for the ride, Samantha.”
“No problem, Alex.” I look up at him as he opens the door.“I’ll see you at school. Don’t forget what I said about the tennis team.”
“I won’t,” He starts to close the door, but stops. “Are you sure you’re okay to drive these streets alone? It’s getting pretty dark.”
I laugh and roll my eyes.“Please.“I’ve driven these streets a million times. This is my city. Besides.” I point to my bag. “I’ve got pepper spray.”
He laughs and I do too. “See you tomorrow,” he says and closes the door.
“Good night.” He heads up the sidewalk to the old, ugly house, and I drive away quickly. Thank God Evelyn didn’t see me.
When I get home, my mom is the only one home. She’s on the phone in the den. She’s talking about the ball at the country club coming up in a few weeks. I slip into the kitchen, hoping she doesn’t notice that I’m home. She’s off the phone a few seconds later and I hear her slippers scooting across the hardwood floor.
“How was your first day, love?” Her face is glowing. I don’t know why she’s so excited.
“It was great,” I lie. “Just got done at the soup kitchen. I’m starving.” I open the refrigerator.
“Of course you are.” I can’t tell if she is being sarcastic or not. “There is some left over Thai salad in there. I picked it up on my way home, but I couldn’t finish it.”
I’m tempted to take the salad she’s talking about and throw it in her face. I don’t want a salad. I want real food.
“Sounds great,” I manage. I pull the salad out of the fridge and set it on the counter. I take out a bottle of ranch dressing, too.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to ruin a twenty dollar salad with a bunch of ranch dressing?” She looks me up and down. “There is a raspberry vinaigrette in there. Use that.”
I bite my tongue a little harder and pull the vinaigrette out of the fridge. I shake the bottle and pour the thick pink sauce over the salad.
“Tell me more about school,” Mom pushes. “How are your classes?”
“I think they’re going to be easy.” I take a bite of the salad. It tastes pretty good, but I know it’s not going to fill me up. “My teachers seem nice. Mister Fossett was glad to have me back again this year.”
“That’s lovely,” she smiles. But I know she’s not really paying attention. “Have you thought about where you want to go to look for your dress for the ball?”
“Not really,” I say between bites.
“You know it’s coming up rather soon.”
“I know, Mom.”
“You and Anderson should go shopping together so you can coordinate your outfits. I think you would both look great in blue, or maybe something like your dress from the winter pageant last year--”
“Maybe.” I cut her off. “Where‘s Dad?”
“He’s working late again.” She sighs and shrugs. My dad has had his landscaping business since before I was born. He spends a lot of extra time at the office.
“Of course.” I nod. “I’m going to go do my homework.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to help me with some of the logistics of the ball? You know I’m the head of the committee again this year, and the rest of them seem too busy to help out much.”
“Maybe when I’m done with my homework.” I pick up the salad and my bag and head upstairs.
I down the rest of the salad and open up my Psychology book. I don’t really have that much homework, but Mom doesn’t know that. She’ll be happy to think that I’m doing all of my work like a good student. I hear her downstairs on the phone again. I turn on my iPod and put the headphones in my ears.
Mom comes to check on my twice while I’m doing my homework. The first time she takes my salad plate back to the kitchen. The second time, she askes me again if I want to help her with the invitations for the ball. I say no.
Anderson calls me and we talk for a few minutes. He rambles on about practice and I pretend to listen. I tell him about the soup kitchen, and I can tell he’s pretending to care on the other end.
I get off the phone with him at around midnight. My mom is in bed, and I’m pretty sure my dad still isn’t home. I change into my pajamas and go quietly downstairs. I slide on the hardwood floor in the dark, perfectly aware of my surroundings.
I open the fridge and stare at its contents. My stomach is growling. I pull out a jar of strawberry jelly. Using the light from the fridge, I find the bread and peanut butter in one of the cabinets. I quickly make two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I eat both of them in thirty seconds. I stash the food away and clean up my crumbs so that my mom doesn’t notice.
I hurry back to my room and slide into bed. I send Anderson a goodnight text and turn off the lamp. I lay there, exhausted but awake. The bathroom is calling my name. My stomach growls back in content protest. I shut my eyes and will myself to stay in the bed. I’m not purging. Not tonight. After lying awake for what seems like forever, I finally fall asleep, full of peanut butter and lies.

September 25: Jeoffrey

Jeoffrey

Five more minutes. That’s all I need. Five more minutes and I’ll be able to wake up. I smack the alarm for the third time. My back hurts; this worn out mattress isn’t cutting it anymore.
“Mama says to get up.” I hear my little brother, Damien’s voice. “She said ‘now’.”
“I’m coming,” I mumble from under the covers.
I hear him take off down the hall. I toss the covers off of me and turn on the lamp on the nightstand. I rub my eyes and yawn. I try to crack the muscles in my back loose. I yawn again. I didn’t get much sleep last night. Mama and Cody were at it again until at least three. The red numbers on the alarm clock bleed 6:30. I hate the first day of school.
I get out of bed and hurry into the bathroom. The shower water runs cold. I wait a few minutes for it to get warmer, but it doesn’t. I get in and take the quickest shower of my life.
“Mama said you got thirty minutes.” Damien is waiting outside in the hall when I step out of the bathroom in a towel.
“Alright, Damien.” I push his head lightly. “Let me get ready.”
He is thirteen, a spitting image of me. He starts the eighth grade today. I can’t believe he’s already in the eighth grade. I can’t believe I’m already a senior.
I open the closet in the bedroom that we share. He sits down on his bed and watches me. He runs his hands over his new tennis shoes.
“Aren’t these kicks great?” He looks at me and smiles.
“Yeah.” I nod and pull out one of my new shirts. Mama was only able to get each of us two new shirts and a new pair of jeans. She didn’t have enough for both of us to get shoes, so I’ll be wearing my Nikes from last year. I don’t mind, because new shoes are more important when you’re in the eighth grade.
I pull on a white t-shirt and my new blue one over it. My new jeans feel nice. We only get new clothes twice a year: in September and at Christmas. Mama works hard to give us stuff, but sometimes we don’t get the extra things. We’re doing okay, though.
“Mama’s making eggs.” Damien puts his book bag over his shoulders. “We got toast, too.”
“Nice.” I stuff my new notebook into my book bag along with my pencils from last year. I grab my drum pad and sticks and follow him out of the room.
“You wanna play ball after school today?”
“We’ll see.” I sit down at the small table in the kitchen. My mom is standing at the stove frying eggs.
“Good morning, baby.” She turns to me and smiles.
“Morning, Mama.”
She divides the eggs up and puts them on our plates, along with a piece of toast.
“We’re out of jelly,” she says. “But we’ve got a little bit of butter left.”
I give the rest of the butter to Damien to put on his toast and eat mine dry. The eggs are hot and good. I want more, but there aren't any.
“I’ve got to head over to the hotel.” Mama kisses both of us on the cheeks. She is a housekeeper at a hotel in town. “Jeoffrey,” she says to me. “You watch your brother. Damien, you behave.”
“Yes ma’am,” we both mumble.
“I’ll be home later.” She picks up her purse. “Try to clean up the house a little when you get home. And don’t wake up Cody. Have a good day at school. I love you.”
“Love you, Mama,” we call after her.
Damien hurries into the living room and turns the television on BET. I hear music. I put our plates in the sink and go into the small room, where he is sitting on the only couch.
“Turn that off,” I say.
“I just want to watch the countdown.” Damien holds his hand up to shush me.
“You’re gonna wake up Cody.” I grab the remote and turn the television off.
“Shut up, big head.” Damien pushes me playfully.
“Come on.” I look at the clock. “We’ve still got fifteen minutes. Let’s go ball before we go to the bus stop.”
He grabs his basketball and we head outside. Our neighborhood is pretty big, but the houses in it aren’t. They all look the same: white, with a blue front porch, a screen door that never closes all the way, low ceilings, two bedrooms. These aren’t the projects, but they are the closest thing to them. An outsider would call West Division Street dangerous, ghetto, scary. We call it home.
A few other kids are already on the corner waiting for the bus. Some of the Ricans from Humboldt Park are on the other side of the street waiting. We have a basketball goal in our tiny driveway. I throw my bag down and start to dribble.
“Show me what you got, kid.” I smile at Damien as he approaches me and steals the ball. He dunks it in the goal.
We play for a few minutes. After I’m warmed up I start to school him, but I let him get a few shots in. My legs burning and my heart racing make me excited for basketball season in a few months.
“Okay, let’s go wait for the bus,” I say a few minutes later.
Damien puts his hands on his knees and tries to catch his breath. “Okay.” We pick up our bags and head over to the corner, where the 808s are all waiting.
The 808s are a gang. They are affiliated with Folk Nation, one of the biggest gangs in Chicago. Nobody knows why they are called the 808s. I think they just needed a name and that stuck. I am technically a member. Everyone on this side of the street is. But I don’t like to take part in what they do. They fight, they steal, they use drugs, and they run around the neighborhood looking for trouble with the Ricans on the other side. I wear my chain that was given to me when I was eight, but it is tucked under my shirt.
The people on the other side of West Division Street are members of Latin Kings. The Kings are a Puerto Rican gang, one of the oldest in Chicago. The two groups fight nonstop. I hate leaving my house because I know that a Rican will probably find me and try to start something just for living on this side of the median. I try to keep Damien inside as much as possible. He hates it and has started sneaking out at night to run off with the 808s.
I hate this place. I hate this street. I hate the barriers, the division. I hate the hate. I cannot wait to go to school somewhere and be as far away from here as possible.
“What’s up, Kente and Kente Junior?” My friend Jamal looks up when we approach.
“What’s up, man?” We shake hands. I would say it’s been a while, but I just saw him yesterday. These are the only people I’ve seen since June. You don’t get out much when you’re from around here.
“Hey, Kente,” they all say. They’ve always called me by my last name. They say my first name is “too white.”
“Nice shirt,” Dominique, my ex-girlfriend says. She looks me up and down.
“Thanks,” I mumble and turn away. We broke up last year when I found out she was dealing cocaine. She cried a lot. But it must’ve not hurt too badly. She’s still dealing.
“Look at them, man.” Jamal points across the street. “They’re looking at us like they wanna start something.”
We all look to the other side of the street, where the Ricans stand looking back at us.
“I’ll give them something to look at.” Delanté, my friend since kindergarten, reaches for his pocket.
I know what he’s reaching for. “Stop, man.” I put my hand on his arms. “They ain’t hurting nothing.”
All of my friends look at me. I’ve known them since we were young. Once you’re born on West Division, you usually don’t leave it. I grew up with these kids. But I always knew I was different from them; they knew it too. When they were running around stealing stuff and playing in the street, I was at home playing basketball or drumming.
I’ve been drumming since I was seven when my grandma got me my first pair of sticks. I fell in love with music. It’s the one thing that keeps me sane. It can’t go wrong, it can’t fail me, and it won’t ever leave me or hurt me. Drumming is my passion. But they’ve never understood that.
“Maybe he’s right.” Keyan shrugs. “We don’t need to get nothing started on the first day. Let’s all be like Kente and make good grades this year.”
They all laugh, including Damien.
“Not everybody can be the basketball star.” Jamal pats me on the back. They all keep laughing. I hate when they laugh at me, but at least I got their attention off of the Kings. I check my watch. It’s almost seven-thirty. The bus should be here any minute; but it’s always late on the first day.
“You could be if you stopped trippin’ and got your ass on the court.” I push him playfully. “I understand if you don’t want me to school you, though.”
Everyone laughs and high-fives me, including Jamal. I love them when they are like this; they aren’t hard or tough. We laugh and joke like we did when we were kids, before everything got so complicated. I miss those days.
I look across the street and see the Ricans messing with some skinny white kid. He looks scared shitless, but none of us say anything. If you aren’t with one of us, it’s every man for himself out here. If we were to cross the street and help him, we’d be risking our own lives. So we stand and watch as the Ricans push on him lightly and laugh. I turn away and try not to look.
A few minutes later, the bus pulls up. We get on first, then the Ricans. I see the skinny white kid standing on the sidewalk. His face is red. He turns around and walks back the way he came. I sit down in my seat, alone. I pull out my drum pad and sticks and start to make beats. The kid turns around and heads back the way he came. Poor kid.
The bus ride is bumpy and loud. The Ricans sit in the back, we sit in the front. The rest of the kids sit in the middle. They don’t talk much, I think because they are scared to. Most of them probably won’t be riding the bus for long; we tend to have that affect on people.
I see a girl I recognize from last summer. I remember that her name is Janey. I met her at the free health clinic a few blocks from my neighborhood. I was there because I hurt my arm doing yard work for a neighbor. She was there for an “operation.” She never said what it was, but I knew. She was there alone. I’d offered to go in with her, but she declined. I guess that makes sense, since we were strangers to each other. But she walked down that hall alone and when she came out, her eyes were empty. They are still empty today.
We pull into school and I pull my toboggan off of my head. I’m one of the few that follow the dress code.
“Have a great day,” says Maggie, the old bus driver. She says it like a robot, with no emotion, no presence. She’s not really here.
I follow my friends into the lobby, where we congregate in the back right corner. The Ricans file past us and sit on the opposite side. I sit down and keep drumming while everyone around me greets each other and talks about their summers.
“What’s up, Kente?”
I look up and see my friend Marcus. He holds out his hand and we do our shake, the one every black guy knows.
“Hey, Marcus.” I stand up to talk to him. “How was summer over at The Peaks?”
The Peaks are housing projects on the other side of town. Most of my friends are either from there or West Division. I don’t get to see my friends from The Peaks much over the summer because the only way to get there is on the bus, and Mama doesn’t like for me to take the bus unless I have to.
“Pretty good, man.” Marcus nods. “You heard about Drake, right?”
Drake is an old friend from elementary school. He was my neighbor until his mom lost her job and they had to move to The Peaks. I look around for him, but don’t see him anywhere.
“No.” I shake my head. “Did he move?”
“Nah, nigga.” Marcus sighs. “They got him.”
“What?”
“He stole some money from one of the Kings at Peaks.” Marcus shrugs. “He thought they didn’t know, but they did. He was walking back one day and they got him.”
“He’s dead?” My eyes get wide and watery.
“Yeah, man.” Marcus shakes his head. “I told him not to do it, but he did it anyway. And they got him.”
“Shit,” I whisper.
Drake is the third friend I’ve lost to gang violence. I lost Michael in middle school, when he got caught running through Little Puerto Rico. They shot him cold. I remember hearing the gunshots. He was only thirteen.
I lost my best friend, KD, three years ago. We were freshmen. He was my other neighbor. We grew up together; he was the only person I counted on. He was my best friend, my teammate, my brother.
We were walking home from school one day when a black Lincoln pulled up next to us.
“KD,” I heard a voice say from the car. The dark window on the passenger side rolled down slowly. “Where’s my money at?”
KD stopped on the sidewalk. I stopped too. I didn’t know what was going on. I recognized the voice as that of Tyrell. He’s known as T around here, and he’s one of the biggest drug dealers in the neighborhood. I couldn’t understand what he would want with KD. KD didn’t use drugs, I didn’t think.
“What’s he talking about, man?” I stood behind KD.
“Where’s my money at, nigga?” T’s voice got louder. I jumped a little.
“I- I’ll have it to you next week,” KD stammered. “I had to help my mom out with the bills this week. But I’ll have the money next week.”He started to back up.
“You said that last week,” T reached in his lap. “I don’t wait for nobody.”
His arm came out of the window. Everything happened so fast, yet it seemed like it was in slow motion.
The gun fired twice, right into KD’s chest. Then the car sped off before I could even blink. KD fell back into my arms. I screamed; he didn’t. I fell to my knees with him resting on top of me. I kept screaming. His blood soaked into my pants, my shirt, on my hands, the sidewalk. Everywhere.
I sat there with him in my arms, dead, until someone finally came. It took the police an hour to get there. They come later and later every time. When they pulled his body away from mine, every muscle in my body was stiff. I couldn’t move. I sat there while they sprayed the blood with a hose and wheeled KD away. His mom’s screams echoed shrill and painful in my ears. People stood around and watched. Nobody cried but her.
I didn’t cry until Mama had dragged me home and put me in the shower. Then I cried. I cried for a long time. I missed school the next day; it’s the only day I’ve ever missed. I cried all day. A few weeks later the athletic boosters built a memorial garden for KD outside of the school. I still cry sometimes.
I push the images of KD’s body out of my head. I can’t believe Drake is gone too. I wish my friends would learn from the mistakes of others, rather than continuing down the same paths.
“I’m sorry, man.” Marcus touches my arm. “I know he was like a brother to you. But that’s the way it goes in our world.”
I want to punch Marcus. I want to knock him down and strangle him. I want to scream at him, tell him that this is not the way it has to go in our world. I want to tell him that we are the ones who can change it. But I know he won’t listen to me, just like none of the others listen to me. So instead, I sit back down in my corner and drum.
When the bell rings, nobody in my group of friends hurries to homeroom. They are always the last people out of the lobby. I grab my stuff and head to my classroom. I sit in the back and pull out my drum stuff. I know it gets on people’s nerves, but I can’t help it. I have to drum, constantly.
Miss Black looks at me but doesn’t say anything. I drum softly until the announcements come on. Ruby, my drum major comes up on the television. She is smiling as usual. I love that girl. We’ve been in band together for four years and she is always positive. She makes things interesting, and she does a good job on the announcements.
Miss Black passes out our class schedules while the announcements are going on. She hands me mine. I have honors senior English, algebra two, physics, and band. It shouldn’t be too hard, and I’ll have time to focus on preparing for my music auditions at Chicago College of Performing Arts. It is my dream to study music there, so I have to practice nonstop. I drum my fingers lightly on the table.
“Thank you, Boomers, and have a great first day!” Ruby smiles at the camera before the channel cuts out. The bell rings a few minutes later and we all head out to our first class. My hands are cold and my muscles are stiff. This is what happens when I get anxious. I don’t know if it is because I’m nervous about the first day, excited about the first day, or because I’m still thinking about what happened to Drake.
English is a drag, as usual. My teacher lists off all of the books we’ll be reading. I am in honors, so like always, I am the only black kid in my class. Everyone used to stare at me for the first year or two, but now they are used to me. I sit next to James, whom I’ve known since middle school. He’s a jock and a prep, with red hair and big muscles. We don’t talk much outside of class, except on the basketball court. But he’s a good guy, and he knows I am too.
“You sure you don’t wanna come out for football this year, Jeoff?” He puts his hand on my shoulder as we leave class.
“I’ve got to focus on band this semester.” I shake my head. “My auditions are in a few months, you know.”
“You should just go out for a basketball scholarship.” James nudges me. “You know you could go to any school for free with your skills.”
The way he says that makes me a little uncomfortable, but I don’t say so. “Maybe.” I shrug.
He heads towards his friends and I head towards mine. They are all comparing schedules. I don’t even waste the time pulling my card out. I know none of them are in any of my classes.
The bell rings soon after and I head to algebra two. Math is my worst subject, so I’m not in honors. I’m still the only black kid in my class, though. The teacher jumps right into a review lecture and my eye lids start to get heavy. I know I need to pay attention, but when I stare at the board, all of the numbers turn into notes. Soon I am drumming on the desk with my fingertips, making up rhythms in my head.
I recognize a few people from my class. One of them is Brian Phillips. We’ve had a few classes together, and I know he used to date Ruby before he became the biggest druggie in school. He’s high on something right now, I can tell. His eyes are glazed over, he’s breathing slowly. His mind is in another place, like mine. I’m glad Ruby finally dumped him; she deserves better.
I head to Physics next, excited to learn. Science is my favorite subject besides music. The teacher talks about everything we are going to be learning throughout the semester and I get excited. I am surrounded by a bunch of science nerds, something I’m not used to, but I enjoy it nonetheless.
Lunch comes soon. I hurry to the cafeteria so I can get in line before all of the slow freshmen. I get free lunch, so I pile my tray with food. There is no telling when my mom will be home to make dinner, or what it will be. I hurry through the line and head to the back of the cafeteria where my friends always sit.
I see some of my teammates sitting in their usual spots. Anderson and James sit in the center prep table, their girlfriends under their arms. I’ve known Anderson’s girlfriend, Samantha for years. She’s the only nice one out of the group of girls.
The band kids sit at a round table in the center. I’ve tried sitting with them before, but my friends give me a hard time so I stopped. The theater geeks sit near them. I don’t know any of them except Gabe DeCarteret. He is James’s brother. We’ve worked on a few musical productions together before. He is weird.
I don’t recognize many other people. We all stick to our cliques for the most part. I see Audrey Oliver. I only know her because my mom works for one of her mom’s hotels. We’ve never talked, I just remember seeing her when my mom had to bring me and my brother to work with her and Audrey happened to be at the hotel.
“What’s up, man?” I hear a voice behind me. I turn around to see Crash, one of my longtime friends.
“Hey, Crash.” We shake hands. “How was your summer, man?”
“It was good.” Crash rocks back and forth on his heels. “I did a lot of working and took care of my little brother mostly.”
“Sounds fun.” I nod. “I worked some too.”
“You ready for senior year?”
“I don’t know, man.” I shrug. “We’ll see.”
“What you doing talking to that cracker?” I hear Jamal’s voice behind me. “What are you doing over here?” He looks at Crash.
“Just talking to my friend.” Crash holds his hands up and starts to back away. “I’ll see you around, Jeoff.”
“Bye, Crash.” I turn and follow Jamal to our tables.
“Make us a beat,” Dominique says to me when I sit down. She and a few other girls are dancing to a mix blasting from Keyan’s stereo.
I sit down with my food and eat it quickly, drumming beats for them in between bites. Everyone is happy in this moment. It feels good.
The Ricans sit opposite from us, eyeing us every now and then. But for the most part, peace is kept for now. It is the first day and we all know Mr. Hall is cracking down on the rules.
I see Evelyn Rhodes walking towards my table. My beats slow down as she approaches. She’s the girl of my dreams, even if she barely knows I exist. Everyone else talks about her; they say she’s a slut, the school whore. I know why she does what she does. She needs love. I know that feeling. I wish she would let me love her.
She stops and talks to Riley Sutton. Of course. The bad boy always gets the girls. He’s wearing a leather jacket and tight jeans. He’s the biggest player in school, yet all of the girls still drool over him. We were on the same hockey team together last year. I had to quit because my mom couldn’t afford the fees. He runs his hands through his hair. I don’t get what she sees in him. She pulls on his arm and they walk outside, right past my table. She barely even looks at me.
My last class of the day is band. It is my favorite class and I’m looking forward to seeing all of my band mates again. Our band is really small. I am the only percussionist. It feels good to strap on my snare drum and diddle on the new head.
“Hey, Jeoff,” everyone calls to me when I get out to the practice field.
“What’s up, guys?”
They all start to warm up. I join them, tapping on the drum and rolling to get my wrists warmed up.
“How was your summer?” Drew, one of the twin trumpet players, asks me.
“It was good,” I say. “I’m glad to be back though.”
He continues playing and so do I. I don’t talk to any of them much. I can’t really relate to them, except the fact that we are in band together. Ruby steps up onto her podium and holds her arms out.
“Guys, go ahead and arc it up. Let’s get started.” She looks at me, and I nod to let her know I’m ready. She starts to conduct and I tap off the warm up.
After several minutes of warm up, we get into our first set and Ruby starts off the show. I love our theme this year, Cirque du Soleil. We are cleaning the drill when Mr. East finally comes out.
“Jeoff,” he calls for me.
I hurry off the field, wondering what he needs.
“Yes, Mister East?”
“Coach Perez needs to see you in his office. I guess it’s something about basketball.”
He doesn’t look very happy.
“Now?”
“Yes.” He nods. “I don’t want this happening on a regular basis, Jeoff. We need you out here. Music is just as important as athletics, you know.”
“I know, Mister East.” I sigh. “I’m sorry. I’ll hurry.”
I take off across the field, cursing Coach in my head. I hate when he calls me out of practice or class. He should be teaching a class right now, so I don’t understand why he needs me.
I have to go through the boys’ locker room to get through his office. I hear a few voices.
“You’ll leave when we say you leave. You need to learn your place here, Frosh. Otherwise, it’s gonna be a long, hard year for you.” That sounds like James.
“I got it.” I don’t recognize this voice.
“I don’t think you do.” That is definitely Anderson. “No, ‘cause see, I still see a little bit of attitude in your eyes. And I don’t like it when freshmen get an attitude with me.”
I see Anderson and James by the athlete lockers talking to someone. It is the same kid that was getting into it with the Kings this morning.
“Guys, please.” The kid sighs. “Just let me go.”
“What’s going on boys?” I take a few steps closer.
Anderson and James both turn around. “Hey Jeoff,” they both say. We shake hands.
“Long time, no see, man.” Anderson looks me up and down. “How was your summer?”
“Can’t complain.” I shrug. “What’s going on here?”
“Just putting my little freshman friend in his place.” Anderson smacks the kid on the back. “What’s your name again, Frosh?”
“Alex.”
“Yeah, this is Alex.” James laughs. “He’s thinking about going out for the team.”
“So let him.” I step closer and shrug. “Might be good to have some fresh meat on the team.” I know their game, and I know how to beat them at it.
“Well, we told him we think he’d do a better job as a water boy.” Anderson squeezes the kid’s shoulder. “We’re just concerned about him getting hurt out there.”
“Jeoff plays basketball,” James explains. “He doesn’t know what it’s like to play football.”
“Yeah,” Anderson agrees. “’Cause he quit football to be a drummer.” He pushes me lightly.
“I am a drummer,” I assure them. “And I’ll show you boys how I do next semester during basketball season.” They laugh. I know I’ve got them. “Why don’t you guys let the freshman get back to class?”
“Yeah, he’s not worth it.” James agrees. “Let’s go lift some weights.”
Anderson looks at the kid. “Remember what I said, Frosh.” He pushes him hard against a locker.
They shake my hand again and head out. I wait until I know they are gone before I say anything to the kid, who looks terrified. “Don’t worry about them; they’re just jocks.”
“Yeah, whatever.” He stuffs some papers into his book bag, but doesn’t look at me. “I’m sick of this place already.”
“I wish I could tell you it gets better.” I reach out to pat his back. “But it probably won’t. Just take my advice...Don’t go out for the football team. You probably won’t make it, and it gives them a reason to mess with you.”
“Well thanks, but I don’t need some homeboy giving me advice.” He says it with disgust and pushes past me.
“What?” My eyes widen.
He turns around for a second, a little bit of fear in his eyes. “Just forget it, dude. I’ve had a shitty first day in this place, and I don’t want any more trouble.”
“Dude.” I can’t believe him. “I’m not gonna fight you. I just saved your ass from ending up in the trashcan.”
“I appreciate it,” he says distantly. “I’ll see you around.”
He walks out, leaving me standing there. I try to fathom what just happened. I saved the kid from being beaten up by two of my friends, just to have him call me a homeboy. I kick the locker behind me.
I hate being judged and labeled because I’m black. I struggle every day to defy the stereotypes I’ve been given because of my skin. I feel like it’s a struggle for a worthless cause.
I walk into the coach’s office. He’s sitting at his desk talking on the phone. He waves me in.
“Okay, sounds great. Bye.” He hangs up the phone and smiles.
“What’s up, Kente?” He motions for me to have a seat.
“Nothing.” I shrug. “Mister East said you wanted to see me.”
He nods. “I just wanted to check up on you and make sure your classes are okay and everything.”
“Everything is great,” I assure him. “I like my classes and I’m excited about my last marching season.”
“Have you thought about your last basketball season at all?” He leans forward over the desk.
“What about it?”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “This is your year, Jeoff. This is your year to shine. Scouts are gonna be here to check you out. You could go to any school you want if you push yourself this season. I guarantee you could get a full-ride scholarship.”
“CCPA doesn’t offer basketball scholarships.” I say it with a little more bite than I’d intended. “They offer music scholarships.”
“What are you talking about?” He leans back in his seat.
“I’m already working on my auditions for a scholarship at the College of Performing Arts. I’ve always wanted to go there; you know that.” I drum lightly on my legs.
“You do realize what kinds of opportunities a basketball scholarship could provide you with, don’t you?” He taps his pen on the desk. “You can go anywhere.”
“But I want to go to CCPA,” I insist. “I don’t want to play basketball for the rest of my life. I want to play music.”
“Why are you doing this?” Coach sighs. “I thought this was just a phase?”
“It’s not.” I shake my head. “I’m sorry, Coach, but this is what I want to do. I still want to play ball, just not for a scholarship. I still love the sport. I just don’t love it as much as drumming.”
He sighs again. “Well, if that’s what you want, I guess there is nothing I can do about it.” He puts his hands together. “Have you talked to your mother about it?”
“She knows how much I love music.” I nod. “She will understand. She supports me.”
“Alright.” He stands up. “Get back to practice. Make sure you keep those grades up, and don’t do anything stupid.”
“Yes, sir.” I stand up and head out of the locker room. I know Coach Perez is upset, but I can’t do anything about it.
I hurry to the practice field and jump right back into the music. I forget about basketball and everything else and let the music take me away.
When the final bell rings, I have to hurry and put my drum away to make it to the bus. Everyone else stands around the band room and talks, but I don’t have time to. I grab my stuff and head to the bus. The ride is pretty short, but loud. Everyone is in my ear talking about their first day and what they are getting into later.
“You in, Kente?” Jamal asks me.
I haven’t been paying attention. “In for what?”
They all laugh. “We’re going to Dominique’s. Her parents aren’t home and she’s got some good stuff.”
“Man, you know I’m not in for that.” I shake my head. “I’ve got to watch Damien and do my homework.”
“You gotta live a little, man.” Keyan pushes my shoulder from the seat behind me.
“Come on,” Dominique insists. “It’ll be fun. You don’t have to take anything. You can do your homework there.”
“Nah.” I don’t look directly at her. “I’m good.”
“Whatever man.” Jamal sighs.
The bus stops at our corner and we get off. I stand on the sidewalk while the others head home. I have to wait for Damien’s bus to get here. The Ricans push past us when they get off.
“Watch where you’re walking, fool.” Keyan steps in front of Malachi, one of the Kings.
“Who you talking to like that, nigga?” Malachi steps closer to him. “You better watch your mouth.”
“Then you better watch where you put your feet.” Keyan points to the ground. “Somewhere besides my new kicks.”
“I’ll kick your ass if you don’t back the fuck down.” Malachi’s accent is thick, but we all know what he’s saying.
Everyone starts to gather around them. Keyan and Malachi’s faces are just inches apart. I step in between them.
“Whoa, calm down.” I put my arm between their bodies. “Why don’t ya’ll just go back to your side of the street?”
“Yeah, I think I hear your mami calling you.” Jamal tries to imitate a Spanish accent.
“You want some too?” Manny steps in front of Jamal. “I’ll kill you right now, esé,” he says through gritted teeth. He reaches for his pocket.
“No!” I push Jamal out of the way. “Everybody go home.” The middle school bus is approaching the corner. “We don’t need this shit today.”
“Your boy’s right.” Malachi points to me. “You should take his advice.”
“Get off my corner, bitch.” Keyan practically spits in Malachi’s face.
“You better watch your back, cabrón.”
“Come on, Chi.” One of the Latina girls pulls on his arm.
Malachi mumbles something in Spanish but they all start to cross the street. Manny bumps into me on purpose, but I ignore it.
“Damn it, Keyan.” I shove him. “Ya’ll always gotta be starting something.”
“He stepped on my new Jordans!” Keyan brushes off his shoes.
“Dude, you have like ten pairs,” says my friend Reggie.
“I don’t care, man.” Keyan starts walking down the street. The rest of them follow him. “Don’t nobody step on my Jordans. I’ll kill ‘em.”
I can’t believe Keyan. But at least he didn’t go any farther. The middle school bus stops at the corner and the gangsters-in-training pile off. The little Ricans run across the street without even looking. Damien hops off with his friends.
“You don’t have to wait for me, you know?” He barely looks at me.
“Oh yes, I do.” I shove him playfully. “Someone’s gotta look after your nappy head.” I run my fingers over his coarse hair.
“Shut up, big head.” He pushes me back.
When we get home, nobody is there. Cody is probably getting high at Randy’s place. He hasn’t had a job in months, and Mama isn’t making him find one.
“Get started on your homework.” I put my stuff down at the kitchen table.
“Give me a snack first.” He throws his book bag down and sits in a chair.
I open the cabinets and search for a snack for him. They are almost empty. Mama hasn’t been to the store in a while. I pull out a box of saltines and a jar of peanut butter. I smear a little bit of peanut butter on five crackers and put them on a plate in front of him.
“Now do your homework. I’m gonna check it when you’re done.”
“Okay Dad,” he grumbles.
I sit down next to him and pull out my physics book. My stomach is growling, but I don’t want to use anymore of the crackers. I reach for one of his and stuff it in my mouth while he’s not looking.
We sit in silence and finish our homework. Six o’ clock rolls around and my mom still isn’t home. She usually gets home from work pretty late. The hotel she works in is big and fancy, so it has to be spotless at all times.
“What’s for dinner?” Damien asks once I’m finished checking his math homework.
“I’m not sure.” I shrug. “Mama didn’t tell me anything to fix and there isn’t much here.”
I hear the front door open and a few bags rustling. “I’m home,” Mama says.
We both get up and go to the door. She’s carrying a few grocery bags and we take them from her.
“Sorry I’m so late.” She hugs us both. “It was a busy weekend at the hotel so we had a lot of cleaning to do.”
“It’s okay,” Damien and I both say.
We all go into the kitchen and unload the groceries. She got the basic staple foods: rice, pasta, potatoes, hotdogs, beans, bread, and a few other things.
“Sorry I couldn’t get much.” She sits down at the table. I can see that she is exhausted. “Money is pretty tight this month.”
“It’s okay,” we both say again.
“Jeoffrey, could you fix some hotdogs and rice for you and your brother?” She runs her hands over her face. “I need to take a shower.”
“Sure.” I nod.
“Where is Cody?” She stands up goes into the living room.
“He’s not here,” Damien says. “He wasn’t here when we got here.”
“He’s probably off getting into trouble somewhere.” Mama rolls her eyes and sighs. “How was the first day of school?”
“Fine,” we say.
Nobody says anything else. Mama goes to take a shower. Damien sits in front of the television and flips through the channels. I stand at the stove and boil hotdogs and rice.
Damien and I eat in the living room. When we are done, I wash the dishes and put them away. Mama goes into her room and lays down. I clean up the living room and tell Damien to clean up the bathroom. I don’t vacuum because I don’t want to wake Mama up. Once the house is clean, Damien and I sit on the couch in the living room. He watches TV. I drum. Mama is still asleep.
At ten o’ clock, we go to bed. At one o’ clock, Cody comes home. He slams the door loud. He stumbles down the hall. He’s drunk. Probably high too. He yells at my mom. I see lights come on down the hall.
I get up and stand at the door. “When I get home I want my fucking dinner waiting for me!”
“I’m sorry, I was tired.” Mama is crying.
I hear the slap. “I don’t care if you’re tired. I’m your man. You cook my dinner.”
“I thought you had already eaten since you didn’t tell me where you were.”
Something falls on the floor. He probably pushed her into the counter.
“Don’t get an attitude with me, bitch.” Cody spits the words out. I hear Mama cry out.
He must have pushed her again.“Remember who I am!”
“I’m sorry,” Mama screams.
“You better be sorry.” I hear another slap. Footsteps down the hall. I jump back in bed. The bathroom door slams.
I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe heavy. I try to quiet my crying so I don’t wake Damien. Then I hear his crying too. Mama is crying in the kitchen. I pull the cover up over my head and clench my fists around the sheets. One day I’m going to stop him. One day Mama is going to get the courage to kick him out. One day he won’t hit her anymore. One day we will have enough food in the cabinets. One day I will get a new pair of shoes. One day I’m going to get out of here. One day the music will take me away. One day everything will be alright.
One day.