The Girl in the Window

Something horrible happened. When I woke up I could feel the demons of that neighborhood invading homes and waking up innocent by standers. My heart attempted an attack as I woke up gasping. The awful feeling I had had me moving lethargically in the morning. Nothing was done fast enough. I got down stairs and halfway ate a bowl of cereal before I gave up and poured it down the sink. I slipped on my flats and headed out. But to my left I saw the trouble. There was a crime scene taped off about six townhouses down. My eyes glued to the commotion and the petty crowd that gathered around. This wasn’t the first crime scene I had seen in the neighborhood but something about that one drew me near.

Amara came out of her house as I passed it. She rushed to me.

“Shade, what happened?”

“I don’t know…” I said in a trance. We walked three more townhouses down before we got to the crime scene. Amara stayed close to me, linking arms. We couldn’t see anything through the people. Everybody was there. All the neighbors I hadn’t seen in a while and some I’d only seen once. Even Mr. Daniels was there. He was shaking his head in shame.

“What happened?” I asked someone. He didn’t look at me, but he answered.

“Someone killed a girl, the girl dat live dere.” He pointed to her house. I knew that girl, she went to my school. Everybody called her bobble head Brittany because she sucked off almost every nigga in the school. No girls liked her, and niggas just liked her for a good fuck. “Anyway, dey say she was raped but whoeva raped her cut her pussy out ta hide da evidence. Dat shit cray, man.” I almost got sick to my stomach. I never called her bobble head Brittany. I had no room to judge, plus I didn’t know her story, we all had our stories; I know I did. Nothing was wrong with Brittany, something went wrong.

I looked at Amara’s face. She looked shocked.

“How can someone do things like that?” she asked, her voice shaken. “What is wrong with this country?”

“It was built off of corruption.” Then it struck me. I checked the time on my phone.

“Shit, I missed my bus,” I said.

“It’s okay. My mama can take you.” We slowly walked back to her house. We couldn’t share any words with each other after witnessing such a horrible event. A girl around our age was raped and killed. It struck fear in us which had no point in discussing because we still had to live there. There was no escaping that place.

The whole ride to school was a silent one. Our minds weighed heavy on the events that had taken place. Nobody wanted to gossip about it because it was amongst us. It involved us. We could be next. None of us wanted to talk about it then and there because one of us could be next.

Amara finally sat next to me in the morning in the cafeteria. Maybe it was for comfort reason, or it was by choice. Either way I liked it. After some time of silence, she finally spoke.

“Who do you think done it?” she asked.

“I honestly don’t know. They’re so many creeps and sex offenders living around us dat it’s hard to point one finger.”

“You are right. I hate that it is that way. We actually lived in a worse neighborhood before but dis crime is different.” I shook my head. Then someone tapped my shoulder. Lorraine’s face could be found in nightmares of mine. Her right-hand-man Jada stood by her.

“Yo Shade, did you hear ‘bout bobble head Brittany?” She sounded excited. Then she looked at Amara. “Still hangin’ wit’ dis fried bitch I see.” They both laughed, Jada’s laugh more because Lorraine was. Again that fire started to burn.

“What the fuck do you want?” I asked aggressively.

“Well, I think dat bitch deserved to die. She won’t nothin’ but a ran through, bobble head ho.” I was frozen with anger and disgust. How could anyone say such heartless things? “And you know what I heard?” I was two seconds from chocking the bitch. “That the killer likes easy ass ho’s so, you might be next.” At that point, my actions weren’t thought out before they were done. I almost had my hands around her neck before someone pulled me back down. We started attracting attention again.

“Do somethin’ bitch!” I tried to get up but Amara had a tight hold on me. I could feel my tears start to weld up. The fear in Lorraine’s eyes was obvious but she hid it by laughing. I almost wanted to fight Amara, but I wasn’t that far gone.

“Let me go,” I cried. But it was best that she didn’t. When Lorraine started walking away, I gave up. My tears were collecting at my chin but my rage wasn’t settling. I was drawing too much attention for my comfort. So I got up and speed walked somewhere. I had no real destination until I finally decided to go outside at the side of the school. Amara followed me the whole way there.

“Why did you hold me back, Amara?” I almost yelled. But she didn’t seem hurt by my yelling.

“I didn’t want you to get in trouble.” I paced for a little while before I slid down to a squat against the school wall. I covered my eyes. She squatted with me and placed her arm around my shoulder. I sucked snot before I spoke.

“I wanna fuckin’ kill her. I wanna stab her in her sleep. I know where she lives.” I probably sounded like a psycho when I said that but I didn’t care. “You should have let me kill her,” I added.

“She is not worth it.”

“But you don’t understand. She won’t stop ‘til I beat the life out of her. She won’t stop.” She slightly rubbed my shoulder, trying to calm me down but I was on the brink of insanity. “She knows how to really piss me off. She know I’ll fend fo’ my friends like nothin’ else so she gon’ keep attackin’ you.”

“I will be fine.”

“But I won’t.” I cut my eyes to look at her as I made that remark. “Okay, she has to die.” She sucked air through her teeth, cringing.

“So harsh.”

“I wanna punish her badly.”

“I understand.”

“Do you really?” I stood up. Looked both ways as if looking to cross as street then walked back into the building. The bell rang a while ago so the hallways were empty. Guess she decided she wanted to walk with me to my class. The whole way she kept her distance though, trying to avoid my wrath. When we got to the class, I stopped dead before the door. She stopped about three feet away from me. Her eyes pierced the back of my head.

“I do understand, unfortunately,” she said softly, but loud enough for me to hear. I turned around and quickly walked up to her to give her a hug. My arms wrapped firmly around her back as I rested my chin on her shoulder. I took her by shock but she did hug me back.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “You’re a really good friend, ya’know.”

“You are a good person to befriend.” I pulled away from the hug before it got too weird.

“Sure.”

“You really are. We all have our issues.” I smiled. Wanted to kiss her, but that was out of the question. She eventually left and I had to catch myself staring as I watched her go before I went in the classroom.

“You sure you don’t want me to handle dat bitch dough?” I could barely get in my seat before Sasha got to questioning me. I tried as hard as I could not to show anger on my face but my hands were clenched so tight they turned yellow. Had my leg shaking the desks because it was bouncing frantically. I tried hard not to choke on the tears that wanted out. “What she say dis time?” I breathed out some of the stress I was feeling, trying desperately to relax. Once I felt calm enough I spoke.

“You hear ‘bout dat girl dis mornin’?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said excited. “Dat shit crazy. Dat was real fucked up. What about it dough?”

“Well… da bitch said dat da killer like easy ho’s, so I was next.” Her eyes got wider than her glasses.

“Whoa, dat bitch said what?” I sighed.

“You would think I was crazy.” I shook my head. “You’d think I’m crazy.”

“Girl, I’d go crazy if she said some kinda shit like dat to me.”

“I need to figure somethin’ out. She still talkin’ shit ‘bout…” then I stopped myself. I wasn’t comfortable with telling her about the way I felt about Amara being attacked. “me,” I said instead, “even when we was friends. I got anger problems. I can’t be takin’ dat shit all da time.” I stared at my hands. “I almost got in a fight with her today but Amara held me back. I was so mad…” I exhaled, then rubbed the wetness from my eyes.

“I ain’t got shit to lose.”

“I know but she ain’t gon’ stop ‘til I fuck her up. I should break her nose. If someone tryda change me for an adult, I’ma act like I ain’t know.” She chuckled.

“Jus’ make sure you tell me when is gon’ go down so I can watch.” I laughed against all my anger.

“I’ll remember dat.”

Monroe patched things up with Molly. He no longer focused on his dislike of the girl and focused more on establishing himself as a person. He no longer wanted to feel distaste for his own race, however getting there was hard for him because of ignorance. Along with many others, he was uneducated on the true history of black people.

“Shade?” Him calling me completely stopped him from writing. I looked up from my paper.

“Yeah, what’s good?” He sighed.

“I’m sorry.”

“‘Bout what? You don’t gotta be sorry.”

“I do, I’m sorry ‘bout saying what I did about yo’ dad. It was wrong of me. I mean, I don’t know anything about you or your dad. If he’s anything like you then I’m sure he was innocent.” I smiled, my eyes starting to water. “Ah, don’t cry. I don’t know what to do.” I managed to laugh, wiping away my tear. No one cared about my dad going to prison enough to apologize. No one ever apologized to me about any horrible things they said or did to me.

“It’s okay,” I said.

“And you’re not a bitch by the way. I mean, I wish I could have been better friends with you over Molly.” I giggled some more.

“Thanks Monroe.” He smiled, feeling better about himself. We both wrote our essays until lunch time.

“You look a lot calmer, Shade,” Amara said when she sat at the table.

“Yeah, I chilled out some in my critical writing class but I’m still mad ‘bout the whole situation.”

“What you gon’ do ‘bout it?” Sasha asked.

“I don’t know yet. All I know is dat she won’t stop ‘til I fight her.”

“Can she fight?” Amara asked.

“She aight, but she ain’t nothin’ against me. At first she never wanted to fight me, now all a sudden she do. Think she might have something to prove now. Someone prolly instigated her to.”

“What if you fight her an’ she don’ stop?” I sighed.

“I’ll handle that ass,” Sasha answered instead. I laughed, so did Amara. After our giggle it got silent before I got serious.

“On some realness though, she ain’t gonna wanna fuck wit’ me after I’m done wit’ her.” They were quiet for a while.

“Shade,” Sasha said breaking the silence. “When you got in a fight wit’ dat girl, what did you do to her?” she asked. I shook my head, looking down. “Really dough, tell me.”

“Her eye…” I began remember each detail. “Her eye was so swole it looked like a fucking black egg. Bitches whole face was purple. Broke her nose too. It was bleeding everywhere. Her lip was split ‘cause she hit da ground and I broke her jaw. Ripped her earlobe too. Let’s just say she got real fucked up and she never looked the same again.”

“Damn Shade,” Sasha started. “What she look like now?”

“She got a lazy eye, a crooked nose, no more earring wearing, a cleft lip and a crooked jaw. She ain’t have good health care so she got real fucked up.

“Das why I’m ashamed to talk about it ‘cause all of dat was over some nigga I ain’t get.” I shook my head in shame.

“Yeah… I wouldn’t mess wit’ you neither, girl,” Sasha said.

“Me neither,” said Amara.

“Can you fight, Amara?” Sasha asked.

“Don’t know. Never tried, never wanted to.”

“You think you can?”

“I’m sure I could. Not wit’ someone like Shade though. But you look like you can fight Shade. You look strong and fit.” I smiled.

“I’ll take dat as a compliment.”

“Oh yeah and, what’s good wit’ you and basketball?” Sasha asked.

“The coach practically said I’m on da team, but she want me to go to a dribbling coach dats free for me.”

“Das good. Darnell finnin’ to make da team too.”

“Yeah, we talked about dat.” She raised an eyebrow.

“You talk to Darnell now?”

“Yeah, since the first day of tryouts.”

“Damn, why he don’t tell me nothin’ no more?” It was a rhetorical question. Something told me not to rat Amara out.

“Anyway, he been more chill lately though. He used to be real uptight and sad all the time. Guess das what basketball do for him.”

“Was he like dat las’ year?” I asked.

“Nah. He was mad den, but das ‘cause he felt ashamed of himself and ‘cause his parents were worse.”

“Why did he feel ashamed of himself?” Amara asked.

“‘Cause… lot’s of personal reasons. I mean, ya’ll both know he was a man-ho. Most niggas don’t care but dere was something else personal that made him act different about it.”

“Wha’s dat?” I asked.

“I can’t say. You’d have to ask him.”

“Ha, no such luck.” We were silent for a while. It became more and more awkward to talk about Darnell. For one, Sasha loved him but didn’t like men; I missed his fucking and his sentimental side; and Amara was holding out. So eventually we changed the subject to something we could easily talk about and lightened the atmosphere of our lunch.

As soon as I got back to third period, I continued to work diligently on my essay. Monroe was on and off with his. Others didn’t really care. The class was filled with too many seniors that just took the class for extra credit. I usually didn’t have concentration problems unless something broke it or my mind was everywhere else.

“Shade?” Every time he called my name there an unsure tone in his voice, as if asking “are you going to answer?” or “is it okay for me to talk to you?”

“Yes Monroe?” I said as kindly as possible to kill that doubt in his tone.

“How come how shitty I was to you, you forgave me so easily? I mean, I don’t think I will ever forgive Molly.” I chuckled.

“Other people have been far mo’ shitty,” then I looked down, relaxing my smile, “and because… you’re the only one who apologized.” I said in almost a whisper. We were silent for a little while.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but how’d your dad die?” I sighed then played with my hands.

“A prison fight.”

“Like, was he stabbed or shot?” He was mutilated. People like him weren’t supposed to die like that. I heard the news and I knew I would die with him. He was forty years old, still looked like he was pushing thirty. A mind like sixty. My daddy knew me more than I knew myself. Only he knew me. Then when I saw his dead face I said “that’s not my daddy.” It couldn’t have been him because my daddy couldn’t die. My daddy was a superman, best super hero to live. But when my daddy died I knew he was dead because everything else died with him.

“He was stabbed…” I took a breath and swallowed back. “I’m sorry.” I got up and left the class with my teachers consent.

Amaya did great work with the picture of me. She had me looking pitiful or crazy in six (three by two) pictures. My eyes went straight to the one where I looked mad and I realized how deep seeded the pain and anger was that came through on my face. It gave me chills on the back of my neck.

“Yikes…” the thought slipped my mind.

“Wha’?” she asked in a trance.

“Nothing.” I looked harder at the picture as she began gessoing her board.

“Do I always look that mean?” I asked pointing to the picture of my neutral face. She giggled.

“You already asked dat. I said you look sad sometimes, like you have a tragic story to tell. I’m just waiting for you to tell it.”

“No offense to you Amaya, but I’ll prolly never tell you anything that personal. I mean, nobody knows. I haven’t told anyone.” She looked as if she wasn’t paying attention.

“It follows you, doesn’t it?” I lowered my head like a troubled child in need of love.

“Yes.”

“And you let it keep you from finding peace from within? You battle with yourself. I can tell.”

“So do you.” She stopped painting. “I can tell.” That day was full of awkward silences. I was prone to awkwardness.

“Have you told anyone?” I asked. She sighed. “At least I try. But you gotta sympathize, it’s hard.”

“Then I can only imagine what you’ve been through.” She continued painting. “I mean, look at that pain. My pain is no match.” She was referring to one of my pictures in her painting.

“No pain is excusable. So you gon’ let me be the therapist for the day?”

“Come on Shade, you know what it is.”

“But I don’t know your story.” She gave it some thought.

“Maybe some other day.”

“Aight, same here.” And that was that.

Dribbling practice felt very useful. We did drills I had never done before that really helped me to develop better dribbling skills. The coach seemed to have some experience under her belt too. She was probably old enough to be my grandmother. She wasn’t about bullshit either and she made sure conditioning was part of our practice also.

But afterwards I was hungry and ready for a shower. While taking a shower, the first person that came to my mind was Amara. During that time a day I was usually at her house talking about crazy things. Thinking about it made me smile. Darnell came to my mind too. I missed talking to him that day and the day before he was talking to his friends. As I rubbed the soap into my breast I couldn’t help but think about Darnell some more. And his lips. My hand slid down my stomach. His hands on my ass. I touched the soapy hairs of my pelvic area then stopped. For a second I listened to the water shatter my skin before I quickly stopped my hand from going any further. I had that sensation on my vagina to be touched, pressed, looked at even. How long ago was Wanya? Two days, three days, four? Too long. I should have went cold turkey, I thought. And I shouldn’t have been thinking about Amara or Darnell.

My dad sat in the chair before me, dressed in dingy orange. His face was tired and eyes sunken. I had a knot in my chest. People around us that were sitting at tables were talking quietly or crying for all to see and hear. Guards stood at every corner, waiting for someone to slip up. I looked down at myself. I was small. Barely had any breasts and no hips at all, but it was normal.

“Shade, baby, what is it?” I looked my dad in the eyes, nervous beyond means.

“I just miss you.” I knew it was a lie from what I really wanted to say. I didn’t know what I wanted to say, though.

“I miss you too baby, and yo’ mama. She doin’ any better?”

“No. She’s doin’ worse.” He sighed, looking down.

“How you doing?”

“I’m… okay. I been better.”

“That’s good.” I looked away. The knot in my chest was starting to feel like a bolder in my heart. Everything was so déjà vu for me.

“Daddy…?”

“Yes?”

“Um… I have a friend that’s bi-sexual.” I paused. “Do you care if people are gay or bi, because she’s my good friend?” Then I knew I had no bi friends. He was silent for a while, looking me dead in the eyes.

“No Shade, I don’t care. People are people. We should love all people.” The boulder lifted and the weight moved to my throat. My eyes started to water, so I looked down.

“Shade?” I looked up. “I’ll love you no matter what, no matter how you are.” Without warning, I started crying uncontrollably. My shoulders shook along with my hands. I was joining everyone else’s crying. I could tell that my dad wanted to hug me, to comfort me, but it angered him that he couldn’t.

“Daddy… daddy I…”

“It’s okay, baby, I understand.” He saved me the trouble. He held my hand until the guards stepped in.

Suddenly all I heard was prison sirens pounding my eardrums. All I could see was an empty courtyard. I looked around for a minute before I just started running. All I heard was my heart beating and the sirens screaming. Then I saw someone face down on the ground. The back of his head was my head with less hair. I dropped to my knees and turned him over. He took a sharp, pained breath before he coughed up blood. I grabbed him and quietly wailed in pain. He took another breath that was much shallower. Blood covered his face and chest.

“Shade…” His voice was a ghost of himself. There was so much pain in it. So much pain in his eyes as he looked at me. His body convulsed in the ugliest of ways before his eyes rolled in the back of his head. I let out a pained sob as he slipped away in my arms.

“Why…” I chocked on my words, squeezing my eyes tight. My tears felt like blood. I held my dad’s bloody body close to. “Why’d you leave daddy…” I breathed sharply. I slowly rocked back and forth like I was deranged. My whole body felt weak. I could have died with him.

Just when I almost screamed, something assisted me to my feet. They grabbed from behind me and held each of my small breasts in one hand. Before my eyes, my breast grew under his hands. Then I felt a sweet kiss on my neck and the muscle of my shoulder. The simple touch was like ecstasy, causing me to moan against my will. Then he moved away. When I turned to see who it was, it was him.

I woke up abruptly. My eyes shot open. Then suddenly I felt cold and started to shiver. For a moment, I forgot my nightmare, but when I remembered, I cried like a baby. I cried a little too loud. When I noticed how loud I was, I tried not to cry as loud, but I couldn’t help my sniffling. I felt so much pain it was horrific. I wanted to die. But suddenly, at my door was Trae. He was the last person I wanted to see, but he was better than no one.

“Pwease don’t cry, Shady, pwease,” he pleaded. Then he climbed in my bed and hugged me. It was the sweetest gesture I had from him in a while. Easily, I hugged him back. After a while, I fell asleep.

When I woke up, Trae was still in my bed. His head was against my back and his leg was over my leg. I turned slightly, trying not to disturb his sleep to check the time. It was almost time for me to get up. I rolled out of my bed and took Trae with me. I put him in his bed and stared at him until I got sick of his face. Ebony was sound asleep. I went back to my room to get ready for school.

The bus ride to school was harsh because I kept reverting back to the dream I had that night. My dad was always accepting to people and the most non-judgmental person I knew. I could tell him anything and he would always give good advice to go by. When he said he’d love me no matter what, I felt like a person again. I was going through some tough shit during that time and I was unsure about myself and my self worth. His acceptance was all I needed. But when that was taken away from me, half of me was gone. Half of me was gone since.

Amara saw my troubles quickly as I sat at the table.

“What is the matter, Shade?” she asked.

“Uh, nothing…” I said quickly. I didn’t want to delay the answer to raise suspicion or imagination. “Just tired and not feelin’ school today.”

“Okay, well, we should sit somewhere else. I do not want you to be upset.”

“Yeah.” We stood up and walked to an isolated place. No one was around but the random passerby. I sat on the ground and she sat with me. We were quiet for a while before I decided to kill the tense silence.

“How was yo’ day yesterday?” I asked.

“Um, it was okay. I mean, school is borin’ any day.”

“You talk to Darnell again?” I smiled. So did she.

“Yeah. I even tried to figure out what Sasha was talkin’ ‘bout yesterday, but he was good at changin’ the subject. It is hard to get answers from him.”

“Yeah. Says I’m the same way.”

“You know you are.”

“I tell you as much as I emotionally can, Amara.”

“Yes, I know. It is okay.” We stopped talking for a bit. Many things ran through my mind.

“Amara,” I said, making sure she was listening.

“Yes?”

“I have something crazy to ask you.”

“You can ask me anything.”

“Say dat there’s a rare jewel that is somethin’ someone sees once in a lifetime, but dat jewel is miles away from your home. Dat jewel is sacred and could only be kept by certain people, but you want dat jewel. Dat jewel will make you a happier person, but you’re afraid to risk anything to get it. What would you do?” She thought about it for a second. Then she answered.

“I would try to get it anyway. I mean, if I really wanted to get it, I would risk somethin’ for it.” I exhaled.

“I thought so.”

“Why you ask?”

“Just wonderin’.” We were quiet for a little while. I wanted to say something more, but it might not have been necessary at the given moment.

“Oh and… I hung out at Darnell’s house one day.” My eyes shot right to her.

“Oh shit, he let you?”

“Yeah ‘cause his parents were not dere.”

“…Did ya’ll…?”

“No-o.” She chuckled. “Cannot lie though, I kinda wanted to but he even said he cannot do any of dat. We jus’ talked, ‘cause I wanted to tell him something.”

“What?” she blushed, then looked the opposite way. Her smile went away. “Okay, I see. Fair enough.”

“I’m sorry.” She looked at the ground in front of her. “I’s just dat it is easier to say to him. I’m sorry, dat sounds bad.”

“It’s okay Amara.” My tone was reassuring. “I completely understand. At least you’re being honest.” She smiled, looking at me. I smiled too.

“You have a nice smile, when you actually do smile.” I chuckled.

“Yeah, you don’t gotta be nice ‘cause you feel bad.”

“No, no. You really do, Shade.” Then the bell rang.

“So do you,” I said. We stood up.

“Thank you.” Then we walked our separate ways.

Unfortunately for some reason, Sasha wasn’t in class that day. She left me alone to think about everything. Things I wanted to think about and things I didn’t. Then Amara came to mind. I tried to push her back because she was off limits, but she kept popping up. Then my heart got in the mix. No, no, she can’t be mine, I thought. I put my head down, trying to clear my mind. All I could see was Amara’s face.

It lasted even through second period. Zack wasn’t there to harass me so my mind kept reverting back to thoughts of Amara.

Then in third period, when I could barely revise my essay, I took out my phone. For a while I stared at the last text I sent to Amara which was about two days ago from that day. Finally I worked up a reason to put it back.

“Shade.” His tone had a lot of doubt. “Uh, sorry for interruptin’ you so much.”

“No, it’s okay, trust me.”

“Okay well… I mean I hate to make you sad and everything but… what happened wit’ your dad and going to prison?”

“Well… he was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Age old case of when an important white man dies, someone has to be put in jail. You got a nearby black guy, then you got a case. Nothin’ tied my dad to the case but they couldn’t point any otha fingers.” I shook my head. Then I started remembering my nightmare again.

“So they jus’ took ‘em jus’ like dat?”

“Yeah. They tried to get ‘im to plea guilty but he ain’t do it. He ain’t want to sell out like dat. Lot of people in the court system tryda get people on a plea to take away dere freedom, ‘specially a lot of black people. We always a victom to their crooked system.” He sat back and let the thought marinate.

“What was yo’ dad like?” he asked. I smiled lightly then looked down. Looked him in the eyes before I answered.

“My daddy – dad, he was like me in ways. He was nice, quiet, peaceful. He was always in his mind and kept to himself. He wrote a lot, and he sang. He would always talk to me about a lot. He taught me a lot at a young age. He was like my best friend.”

“That’s cool. I don’t have a close relationship with my dad. I think my mom has something to do with it.

“But I can see why you got mad about me accusing your dad. I’m sorry, I feel so bad about it, ya’know.” I smiled.

“It’s okay…” I said softly. I took out my phone and looked at that last text. I stared at it until my screen turned black. Lunch came slower than I wanted. But it came. And for the first time, I hoped Sasha wouldn’t be there.

Thankfully she wasn’t. It was just Amara, sitting on my side of the table. I took note of what she was wearing. She must have loved cotton pants because it was all she wore. They always looked good too. That day she had on deep, dark rose pants that almost looked like drying blood. She had on a purple tank top and a lighter red sweater. Her shoes matched her red sweater and pants. Even better, she had slightly red lips and purple eye liner. I must have been too distracted about my nightmare to notice her clothes before.

She smiled before saying anything to me.

“Feelin’ better?” she asked.

“What you mean?”

“I mean like, are you less tired?”

“Kinda…” She knew I was lying earlier.

“Well… that’s good.” For the first time in a long time, we had an awkward silence. There were so many feelings I felt it was sickening. Before, I was in denial; there was no point in telling her the truth. But at that moment I knew I had to tell her how I felt about her. Who the fuck was I kidding, she was beyond a friend to me. I had deep feelings for her.

“Um…” She looked at me, waiting for me to speak. “Amara I um…” I sighed. “I have to tell you somethin’ later.”

“You mean today?”

“Whenever you’re available.”

“Okay, today is good. Is it bad?”

“Not really… I’m just scared to tell you.”

“Okay, I understand. Hope you don’t change your mind.”

“I wont, I can’t.”

“Okay, good.” Then I thought about how I would feel if I went back home after telling her. I wouldn’t want to and depending on how she would react, staying would feel better.

“Actually… I hope you don’t care but can I spend the night?” She smirked.

“Sure, but why?”

“‘Cause there’s a lot of things dat have been on my mind.”

“That’s okay too.”

“And I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Lyin’ to you. You don’ deserve to be lied to. I was upset dis mornin’ ‘cause I had a really bad dream.”

“Wanna share?”

“Well… I was talkin’ to my dad in jail about somethin’, but it was something that really happened. It was somethin’ that was really important to me. So I cried, like, from happiness. Den all of a sudden I saw ‘im in da courtyard dead and bleedin’ everywhere…” I took a pained breath. “He died in my arms. Den…” I covered my eyes with the heels of my hands. “Fuck me, I’m always crying.”

“It’s okay.” I felt her hug me around the waist. “It’s okay, Shade.”

“How can you like me wit’ all my depressing problems?” She let go of me as I brought my hands down.

“It makes you a real person. I love that you are real. I do not want to be around a Mary Sue or plain Jane. I like you as a person, and getting through your problems with you makes me feel good as a person.” I laughed, against all belief.

“Are you a real person?” She laughed.

“You are funny, Shade.”

“I hope you don’t, you know, stop liking me, for any particular reason.”

“Ha, as long as you want me around, I got you.” The last part repeated in my mind “I got you.” It was like Sasha’s promise only hers had way more depth. What she said was very heartfelt, and it meant a lot to me.

In art class I was contemplating what painting I should do. I knew Amaya wouldn’t want me to paint or draw her and she already took my face. The first person to naturally come to my mind was Amara. I sighed. At first it was easy for me to push thoughts of her back. But with each given day, the thoughts would arise more and more. Now, it was impossible to keep her off of my mind.

I looked through my phone for that one picture I had of her. I took it when she was off guard and not paying attention. But her face looked sweet and tranquil. Looking at the picture made me realize how big her eyes were. And she had very full, soft looking lips. She had a slight smile on her face like she was remembering a good memory. It was like a rare moment of beauty in life that many didn’t get to capture, especially on picture, but it was raw beauty. I kept the picture so that when I thought of her, I could look at the picture so I wouldn’t get her face wrong. All the details had to be accurate when I imagined her face.

Amaya peeped my phone, trying to see what was stealing my attention.

“Ooh, is that the girl you were talkin’ ‘bout?” I quickly put my phone back after she caught me without me knowing.

“Amaya…” I sighed.

“Is it?”

“Maybe… maybe not.”

“Well, she’s pretty. I see why you like her.”

“She’s my friend.”

“O-oh, you didn’t deny.” She got closer to me. “You like her like her.” I rolled my eyes. “What you gonna do ‘bout it?”

“Nothin’.”

“Aw… don’t be such a meany pants.” I couldn’t help but laugh.

“That was cute, but never say it again.”

“Will you tell me?”

“All up in my bid’ness. Who do you like, Amaya?” She smiled hard, stretching her lips to her eyes.

“Nobody.”

“Sure. I believe you with dat tone.”

“Well, his name is Josh.”

“Some white guy, I assume.”

“Yes.”

“You like white meat?”

“Yeah because white boys are just so sexy to me. I love the fair skin complexion and light eyes.”

“Of course you do.”

“What about you?”

“I like charred MoFo’s. Like, Africa black, hell yeah. Or dark ass Dominicans.”

“Why?”

“Why you like white niggas?”

“They’re not N words, and jus’ because…”

“Alright then, I like ‘em jus’ because. And everybody’s a nigga, even I’m a nigga.” She smirked.

“The way you said it sounded funny, but i’s not funny. I thought only black people could be called nigga.”

“Damn, you sound jus’ like da white people. Negro is for black people. Nigga is for everyone.”

“How?”

“We made da shit up right? Den we can use it wit’ our discretion.”

“Okay.” She continued to draw me on her gessoed board. Knowing what I knew about Amaya, she was in deep thought.

“Shade… do you hate white people?”

“No. I only hate white people that hate. I hate anyone that hates.”

“You hate me?” I looked at her for a while before looking at whatever papers were before me.

“Are you claiming your own guilt?” She sighed. “Let’s play a question game. You get to ask me a question and I answer honestly and you have to do the same thing.”

“How many questions?”

“One question. Don’t need you gettin’ carried away.”

“Any question?”

“Any question. I just might regret this.” She smiled.

“Okay um… they’re so many things I want to know that you won’t tell me… um… how old were you when you lost your V-card?” She asked quietly. I sighed, looking down. A knot tugged in my stomach. Out of all the faces after him I forgot, his I always remembered.

“Twelve,” I blurted.

“What?”

“Twelve dammit, twelve.” Her face grew sympathetic.

“Oh, damn… what happened?”

“That’s another question.”

“Okay well… your turn.” I tried to refocus myself and remember what I wanted to ask her.

“Did your mom ever when you were growin’ up say that any part of you was unattractive?” She slightly pouted.

“How do you know the right questions to ask?” It was a rhetorical question. “Yeah.”

“What?”

“That’s another question.” I sighed.

“How ‘bout one more round?”

“Okay. What happened?” I shook my head, covering my ears. My eyes remained shut with my head down.

“Can’t answer that, Amaya.”

“Were you raped or abused?” She asked quietly.

“Nope.” It was the honest truth.

“Then what’s wrong?” I looked up, removing my hands.

“Just ask another question.”

“Okay um… are you bi?”

“Why would you ask somethin’ you already know to be true?”

“Okay, I take that back. Well… can you at least tell me the person’s name?” I started to get a little upset.

“I don’t know it,” I said sternly.

“Come on.”

“I really don’t.”

“Is dat why you have a problem with him?”

“Ask another question.” She huffed.

“Okay, how many girls have you… you know.”

“Three.” She seemed to find that interesting, judging from her smile. “You find bi-sexuality interesting?”

“It’s cool ‘cause like, ya’ll can have it either way. It’s like, free love for all.”

“Not trans though.”

“Except them, then. Why not though I mean, what’s the deal?”

“Because that’s not bi-sexuality.”

“What is it then?”

“I don’t know. I’m not a gay expert. I jus’ know what I like.”

“Well… it’s you turn.”

“You done fucked me up with all dese bad memories dat I can’t even remember what I was gonna ask you.”

“Well then, jus’ come up wit’ somethin’. This is fun.”

“Don’t get too excited. Dis the last round.” I thought of a question to ask her. “You like pizza?” She sucked her teeth.

“That was a lame question. And yes, who doesn’t?”

“I actually don’t. At least not American pizza.”

“Ha, you’re so weird, Shade.”

“Proudly.”

After dribbling practice I asked my mama in the car if I could sleep over at Amara’s house.

“Why so las’ minute, huh?”

“‘Cause I asked her at school.”

“Well, it don’t matta to me. But you ain’t walkin’ out dere by yo’self after what happened wit’ dat girl.”

“I know mommy.” She shook her head.

“It’s a shame what happened to dat girl.” We were silent for the rest of the car ride. At first, thoughts of that girl were on my mind, then my nightmare, and then Amara.

I took a quick shower when I got home and tossed some clothes in my bag. I had almost forgotten it was Friday which gave me more opportunity to stay up late with Amara. Even took my journal, just in case inspiration struck. Got my tooth brush, hair brush, soap and lotion and threw them in the bag. When I was sure I had everything I got my mama to take me to her house.

“When you want me to pick you up?”

“Um, I’ll call you.”

“Okay.” Amara greeted me at the door with a smile. She let me come in and she took my stuff.

“Hey, did you eat, Shade?” She asked while climbing the stairs. Right on cue, my stomach growled.

“Uh… no.” She quickly returned.

“Well, dere’s food on the stove. You can help yourself.”

“Okay but, I eat like a beast.” She chuckled.

“Das okay.” I got some food and gulped it down. It was chicken and brown rice with spices I never had before. Then there was some corn based bread that I devoured. After I drank some water, I went to her room. She was sitting on her bed making jewelry.

“You wanna make a necklace?”

“Sure. I’ll prolly suck.”

“It’s okay. I show you how.” I sat next to her on the bed. She handed me a needle and a knotted string. Then she picked up six bags of beads. They were navy blue, mustard yellow, emerald green, blood red, jet black and tangerine orange.

“Pick three. Three is the magic number.” I smiled. Naturally I picked the green, red and black. She had red, blue and black.

“Are these the only colors?” She chuckled.

“No, but I don’t feel like getting the rest. But if you want me to—”

“No, it’s okay.” She started showing me how to thread the necklace and it was hard as fuck at first, but I started to get the hang of it.

“So, how are you?” she asked.

“I’m okay. Been better.”

“Been thinking ‘bout that nightmare?”

“Yeah, and some more shit.”

“Well, I talked some more to Darnell.” She smirked, so did I.

“What ya’ll talk about?”

“Uh, we talked about him. He finally admitted to me that he used to have sex a lot. And oh my god, guess what his number is?”

“What?” I asked excited.

“Seventy. I was like, stop playin’. I thought he said seventeen at first. Den he said it might have been more den that but that was all he could remember.

“That sounds horrible, right?”

“Kinda. He beat my record. Sasha was right, he is much worse.”

“But it is okay though I mean, he seems like he is changing those ways.”

“He is, I can tell.”

“I wonder who his second to last was.” I looked down, feeling bad.

“I was.”

“What?”

“I was his second to last.”

“Aw… he said the second to last person broke his heart. Well, he did not say it like dat but it was somethin’ like that.”

“Yeah. I’ve done a lot of people wrong. I won’t anymore, though.”

“You know, you and him are very alike.”

“I know. Sasha says it all the time.” Then we got quiet. My eyes went to her thighs. She was wearing a skirt that was hiked up. Her legs were so smooth and dark.

“You know, you can change out into whatever you sleep in,” she said. I looked back at my necklace before I pricked my finger for not paying attention.

“I only sleep in a tank and underwear.” She chuckled.

“Well, you can put on some shorts if you want. What size do you wear?”

“Large. I gotta large ass.” She laughed then went in her drawer to get the shorts. She tossed them to me. “Thanks.” I went to the corner of her room facing the wall to change. The shorts she gave me were kind of short and tight. I questioned if I should keep my bra on or off. When I figured there wouldn’t be much harm in it being off, I took it off. I sat back on her bed silently. I could see her looking at me from the corner of my eye, probably because I was so quiet.

“I almost forgot,” she started to say. “What did you wanna tell me?” Oh Amara, the wonderful beautiful Amara. Something had to be wrong. She was just as tall as me, as strong, understanding, and nonjudgmental. Just a desire to be around. I could tell her anything and it was still okay. But she was also straight. Even if she was okay with me liking her, it could never work. Darnell was right though. I should tell her anyway.

I set my necklace on the ground but stayed looking at my hands. She set her necklace down also and looked at me.

“I um…” I sighed. I couldn’t think of a good way to put it. Decided to be direct. “Amara I… I like you.” She smiled.

“I like you too, Shade.”

“No Amara, I really like you.” She was silent for a second.

“I really like you too.”

“Amara, I don’t mean it like that.”

“Shade…” I slowly looked up at her. She smiled sweetly then cupped my cheek. I froze, not know what was going on. Before I knew it, her face was closing in on mine then…

When our lips touched, I couldn’t believe it. But suddenly I loved the idea. Her kiss was sensual and struck a flame in me that needed to be extinguished. Then her hands went to my waist and slid up my tank top. That’s when I pulled away.

“Amara… did you just kiss me?” I asked stupidly. She giggled.

“I’m just as shocked as you.”

“Are you gay?”

“No-o, I’m bi.” I couldn’t believe it. “Are you? Were those nineteen guys really girls?”

“No. Three girls, so that makes it twenty two.”

“Why did you not tell me?” She raised her voice.

“You didn’t tell me either!”

“I was scared to because I like you and I thought you were straight.” I smiled. Then she leaned towards me again to kiss. I kissed her back more that time. Her hands went up my back and forward to my breasts. She massaged them with her hands. I pulled from the kiss.

“No sex. Even though I really want to. But I don’t wanna think of you like the others. You’re special,” I said.

“Okay.” She smiled. “I got it.”

“That kiss was sweet though.”

“I still cannot believe this.”

“Me neither. Why didn’t you say anything when I told you Sasha is gay?”

“Because I do not want Sasha, I want you.” It had been a while since I had mushy feelings for someone, but what she said was profound.

“Why me though? I don’t stick with anyone.”

“Because… I do not know. You are very smart and I know there is a reason why you are like that. You jus’ have not told me yet.” I looked away.

“Yeah… and because I don’t want anymore secrets, jus’ want you to know that I fucked Sasha.”

“It is okay.” I tackled her. She was shocked and fell back on her bed. Her head was just short from hitting her head board.

“Be mad at me for something!” I exclaimed, my hands on both sides of her. She laughed. She pushed me away by my stomach.

“Stop, you are tempting me,” she said. I lied to the right of her. I rested my head on my hand with my arm bent. She turned towards me with her head on her pillow. “Why would I be mad at you for having sex with Sasha if I was not mad at you about the many guys?”

“Because… I don’t know. I jus’ feel like you should.”

“It is okay. Someone else can be mad at you for it.”

“Why are you so perfect?”

“I’m not perfect.”

“Well, you’re perfect to me.” She smiled. “What are we gonna do?”

“Anything you want.”

“I don’t wanna take something seriously if it won’t last forever.”

“I understand. But why not?”

“I just can’t do it.”

“Is there a reason?” I looked at my left hand which was feeling her soft sheets. They were nothing like my dirty sheets.

“Of course there is. But…”

“I know.” Her fingering glided up and down my thigh. It was a sweet touch with a lingering feeling. “I always wanted to tell you that I like your thighs.” I smiled.

“How many girls have you had sex with?”

“One. I did not love her though and I could not catch any feelings. It was like an affair like thing.”

“What was she like?”

“She was short, a short Jamaican girl.”

“Oh. Was she pretty?”

“Yeah, she was pretty. But you’re prettier.”

“Oh thanks. You’re pretty. You’re beautiful.” She smiled. “Where can I sleep?”

“Where do you want?”

“Where do you want?”

“With me.” She smiled.

“Okay, me too.” We pulled the covers over ourselves. It was ten o’clock. I wanted to talk to her all night. And we did. We talked all night until our words were muffled by fatigue.