I stood up behind the podium with my head held high and recited a poem I wrote, titled “Until We Meet Again.”
My school friend
My home friend
My phone friend
My best friend
My big brother
My shoulder to cry on
My listening ear
My safety zone
Â
I wanna lie with you
Die with you
No longer want to cry for you
Â
You left me alone
I no longer have a safety zone
Â
Your mother
Your father
I wish we shared the same
Â
No sisters
Nor brother
But I was your sister in vain
Â
It's hard to say good-bye
When hello is always said
You were my comforter
My guidance
I wanna lie with you instead
Â
Forgive those oh Lord
For they know not what good You have created
Â
Ease the pain of broken hearts
Touch the lives of their souls
Â
Lessen their burden of hate
Free the madness from their souls
So until we meet again
Let the good rest in peace
Why'd you leave me dear Greg
Again we shall meet
His father acknowledged that my poem was beautiful. Then he embraced me. My tears ran strong.
“It's okay. He's in a better place.”
I dried my eyes as I listened to his words of comfort. I walked back to where I was standing while I listened to his father make his speech.
He said, “My son was one of the most humble young men you could ever meet. He surprised me sometimes with the things he did for people. He had a one-in-a-million heart, and I wish he was still here to share it. He was an excellent athlete and an honor roll student. I can't think of any sport that he didn't play or any subject that he couldn't master. He was one of those kids that didn't care about winning or losing either. He came up with his own concept that even if you lose, you are still a winner within yourself, because you tried, you gave your best. He was connected like that, you know. He gave more than he had to at everything.”
“He was hoping to go to Georgia Tech next fall. He just mailed his early admissions application . . . the day . . . the day he was killed. He would have gone to college and taken over the family business. He had it all planned out. He used to ask me all the time, âDad, is it true that since I don't have your last name that means I can't take over the family business?' My brother would always tease Greg, saying, âYou ain't no Taylor!'”
“His last name may not have been Taylor, but he was a Taylor at heart. I miss him dearly. He was truly an angel here on earth. He touched many hearts, and I-I hate to see him . . . go.”
After the funeral was over, I stood in line and embraced the family, feeling like I should have been standing up there with them. Listen to me; like I was blood. I felt like it though. I really did. That day was rough for me. My first time attending a funeral, and I had no support. I had no friends to comfort me. There was no one by my side. I had to walk in the church alone and walk out alone.
On my way out, things got a bit out of hand. It wasn't my fault though. I was provoked. For real! See, while I'm walking out, I spotted Jennifer staring at me. If she knew what was good for her, she would have stopped staring, but she didn't. I wasn't in the mood for her stupidity, especially not at a funeral. I was too emotional and deeply hurt. At any given moment, I could have exploded on anyone. One button pressed, and my welled-up anger was erupting in flames. And, sorry to say, but erupt I did. I know, I know. I was at a funeral. But she asked for it.
I was almost out the door, and she just had to stick up her middle finger. Why'd she do that, y'all? Why'd she do that? She just had to press that blinking red “Do Not Push” button.
She thought I was going to ignore her stupid ass too, but she was wrong. She probably figured,
Hey, we're at a funeral. She ain't gonna do nothing.
Wrong!
I made a U-turn through the crowd of people and premeditated bashing her head into the wooden pews. I had to bust her ass.
Immediately, when she stood up, I was standing right in her grill, and
Bam!
I socked her with a mean blow to the dome.
I got about three good punches in before her friend Anthony intervened and pulled me off her. He carried me outside of the church as I kicked and cried for him to get off of me. He dropped me like a dirty towel on the concrete stairs. I lay on the ground hurt from the toss.
A crowd stood around nonchalantly, trying to see what was going on, looking like they didn't know whether to help or mind their own business.
Malik came out of nowhere and shoved Anthony to the ground. “What the hell is your problem?”
I got up and wiped my hands off. Anthony was about to get it. Who did he think he was, tossing me to the ground like that? Fuming, I charged at him, going right for his groin.
Malik snatched me up before I could get a good kick in. “Chill out, Dee!”
“Chill out” was not in my vocabulary at that moment. I saw an opportunity to give him a good ass-whuppin'.
Anthony was the kid that came up to me on the first day of school and ruined my day. That was the day I met Greg. Tears poured down my eyes as I thought about it. Greg was no longer around to save me.
I fell to the pavement distraught. People started looking at me.
“She's fine. The show is over,” Malik announced.
“Desire, come on. Let me get you out of here.” Malik had tears in his eyes.
“I want Greg,” I shouted.
“I miss him too,” he whispered.
“Why? Why is he gone? I can't believe he's gone. Who am I gonna talk to? Who's gonna . . . ” The anxiety, the tears, the pain. I could no longer speak.
Malik knelt down beside me and caressed my face, wiping away my tears. “I know. I know what you mean. You can talk to me though. I'll be here for you. I know you feel lonely inside, but you will be okay. I'm gonna take care of you.”
He leaned me over in his lap and caressed every strand on my head. It was soothing. I was digging his “comforting” skills. He earned an A for effort, but something was still missing. He just wasn't Greg.
So much for him not being Greg. Oh, man! The things I did. Greg had to be turning over in his grave. He'd told me to stay away from Malik, but he got me at a time when I was vulnerable and had no control over my feelings. I was hypnotized. I swear, I was. He got me.
I lost my virginity to Malik the same day of the funeral. I let him in just like that. He told me he loved me though. Didn't that count? Back then, those three words meant a lot to a new kid on the love scene. It was the best feeling in the world.
I lost my virginity in a way that every girl wanted to lose it. I was wined and dined. He told me he had always been in love with me, and that if I let him pleasure me with sex, it would ease my pain of missing Greg. Our one day together made me feel like I was in heaven, and I wanted that feeling to stick around. I felt like someone else did care.
I thought I was in good hands. I figured Malik was going to take good care of me, seeing I was his best friend's fake little sister and all. Hmmm, he took good care of me all right. How could I have been so naïve?
Greg's passing away was the worst thing that could have ever happened to me.
Chapter 8
I skipped school for another week after the funeral. I played it smart this time though. I went to homeroom in the morning, got marked present, and then left. Thinking back, I feel bad that I had convinced myself Greg was the reason I couldn't stay in school. I mean, I was still grieving, but I was mainly skipping school to be with Malik. Yes, I was sho' 'nuff being fast, nasty, and having sex.
Malik had convinced my dumb ass that he was my ticket to getting over Greg being gone, and the highlight of the whole getting over Greg was sex. Yeah, you heard right. Sex. How stupid was I? My gullible behind believed everything he told me. He was quite the conniver, I soon found out.
He did show me love though, which is why our relationship felt so real. And, at the time, that was all that mattered to me. I was lonely, and he filled the void. He opened my eyes to a whole new world. He served me breakfast in bed. He gave me full body massages. He treated me like I was his queen. I adored him. I guess that's why I was crazy in love.
Things had toned down at home. My aunt didn't really say much to me anymore. During that week I was leaving school, I stayed at Malik's house until it was time for school to let out. Then I would arrive home at the time I was supposed to, as if I had gone to school. I wasn't all the way stupid though. I did keep up with my studies. I made friends with at least one person in each of my classes, and they hooked me up with my assignments daily. So I handed in my assignments on time.
It was a lovely cut-week, but I couldn't take too much time out of school. I couldn't risk the news getting back to my aunt and uncle.
Before we returned to school, Malik made a few things clear. There was to be absolutely no kissing up on each other like we did at his house. And no hugging or cuddling or showing each other any type of affection whatsoever. Our relationship was to be shown as nothing. His reasoningâhe didn't want anyone in our business, and with the rumors floating around, he didn't want people to talk more. It was crazy how people were calling his crib telling him that we were the latest topic in school.
Anyway, I rolled with it. I thought it made sense at the time, but looking back now, it was bullshit. The whole relationship was bullshit. Malik did me wrong on many occasions.
One time I was in homeroom longer than usual, and I think it was because we had activity period or something. But, anyway, Jen was the attendance girl for the eighth grade floor on this particular day. She came into my homeroom to get our attendance sheet, and she started running her trap to these nosy girls about me. The only reason I knew she was yappin' about me was because they started pointing at me. I couldn't believe my eyes.
Frankly, I was shocked. I thought the bitch had gotten enough from her beat-down at the funeral.
So she leaves out of the room after she says whatever, and this girl Stacey comes up to me like, “You got jumped after your brother's funeral?”
“Who told you that?” I asked, pretending like I had no clue.
“I heard that attendance chick tell Marissa and Crystal. She said that's why you were absent all last week, 'cause your face was all jacked up.”
The bell rang before I had a chance to respond. Jen was a loose cannon definitely needing to slow her roll because she was not going to be saved from the next beat-down. I didn't have time to cater to stupid people. Huh, I really didn't. She was pushing me though. She was.
I went to my locker to get my books, and people were looking at me weird, laughing. Two seconds later, Jen walks pass my locker, grilling me. See, she was asking for it.
“What the fuck you looking at, bitch?” I questioned.
She turned her head, breaking our eye contact, and stuck up her middle finger.
I slammed my locker door shut. Then, just as I was about to get at Jen, somebody rolled up behind me and pinched my butt.
I turned around to see who else was going to get their ass beat, and in the process I was pulled into this dark closet. I let out a half scream before the person covered my mouth to shut me up. I panicked.
“Baby, it's me, Malik. Chill out. Calm down,” he whispered.
I took a deep breath, relieved but still a little shaken up. “Sorry. I got scared.”
“Oh, now you scared of me?”
“No, I didn't know it was you. How was I supposed to know it was you?”
The move was borderline rape. My mind wondered, thinking about Greg, hoping the thought of him would calm my nerves, because Malik's presence wasn't. “I miss Greg,” I announced.
“Me too.” He forced his tongue in my mouth.
We French-kissed. Then he stuck his tongue in my ear and whispered, “Why don't you give me a blowjob?”
“A what?”
“A blowjob.”
“I have a class now.”
“Real quick.”
I stood there reluctant to do what he desired but afraid to say no.
“You said you miss Greg, right? It will only take your mind off of him, so you won't hurt anymore.” He caressed my face.
I was a dummy, y'all. A true dummy.
“I never did it before. What do I do? ”
“Get on your knees.”
“My knees?”
“Yeah, your knees.”
I got down as instructed.
“You know I love you girl, right?”
“Yeah.” I blushed, feeling all mushy inside. Then, there my gullible behind went. I was on the floor, on my knees, about to do something a child had no business doing. How could I have been so stupid?
It was horrible, how I gripped his penis with my hands and then moved my mouth toward it. My nose got a whiff of a funny odor. I didn't know whether it came from his thing or what, but it didn't stop me though. I leaned forward, making the tip of his thing touch my lips.
He grabbed the back of my head. “Just lick it, baby.”
I stuck my tongue out.
“Yeah, now circle that tongue around the tip. Yeah!”
I kept circling my tongue around, thinking this was all I had to do. Until he shoved his penis in my mouth. I gagged, and he pulled back a little.
“Loosen up. Suck it. Stop being scared.”
I tried, but it was too hard, and my teeth kept getting in the way.
“Watch the teeth, baby. Okay. Yeah. There you go.”
My jaws started to burn. Then he pushed his thing in deeper, keeping my head at a standstill, 'cause I kept pulling back. I gagged again and felt pressure at my throat. Next thing you know, I was throwing up.
He jumped back as vomit splashed everywhere. It didn't get on me, but it surely got on his new blue suede Tims. He was mad as hell. He didn't even say anything to me. He wiped off as much as he could with an old rag he found in the closet and then bolted just like that, leaving me in the closet all by myself.
I found some Kleenex in my purse and wiped my mouth. I felt bad. He had me feeling bad. All I could think about was, I'd messed up his brand-new Timbs. I was a loser for that, right?
Hello. He made me give him a blowjob, and my dumb ass is concerned about his brand-new Timbs?
I could slap me then.
Anyhow, I walked out of the closet twitching my mouth because my jaws were burning. Then what do you know? I spotted Malik all over this girl, his arm around her, playing in her hair and kissing her on the cheek and shit.
I run up behind him, feelings all hurt. “Malik! Malik!” I yell down the hall.
He ignores me.
“Malik!” I yell again.
The girl turns around and says, “Your little sister is calling you. Answer her.”
I thought,
Little sister.
I was far from his little sister, unless we had some incest going on.
“Yo, I'm late for class. See me at lunch,” he yelled to me down the hall.
What a jerk!
Greg had warned me to stay away from him, but I just didn't listen. They say a hard head makes a soft ass.
Lunchtime came, and while I was in the cafeteria sitting with a few associates, someone snuck up behind me and covered my eyes. All the girls at my table started snickering and giggling. The only two people they would get that happy for were Greg and Malik. So you know who it was.
I pulled his hands off my eyes and got up from my table to move away from him. I was fronting like I was mad, but you know that lasted all of two seconds.
He put his arm around me and muscled me outside of the lunchroom. “Desire, baby, I'm sorry.”
“Greg told me you were a jerk!”
“Don't get stupid. His words weren't too keen about you either.”
“What?”
“Nothing. You're right, I am being a jerk. I'm sorry. I was just mad that you messed up my brand new Timbs.” He got down on one knee. “You forgive me, baby?”
He got me, y'all. He got me again. Mr. Smooth-Talker got me.
“Yeah.” I blushed, too amazed he was on one knee.
He hugged me then he kissed my forehead. “Meet me at my house after school. If I'm not there, just wait. Oh, and don't forget, only at my house we can . . . you know,” he rambled, running ahead of me back inside of the lunchroom.
I smiled all the way back in behind him, feeling warm inside and madly in love. I scooped up my stuff, and of course nosy heffas were on me.
“Is that your boyfriend?”
“No, I'm her brother,” Malik responded out of nowhere, before I could get a word out.
I had no idea he was near me. I was about to break our code of silence and answer yes. And then he had the nerve to wink his eye in the process. Of course, only I saw this. Yeah, yeah, I knew the drill. Everything had to be kept a damn secret.
I journeyed to my fifth period class that I had with Jen. I was really looking forward to this class, right? Yeah, sure I was.
Half the class was there by the time I arrived. Apparently, seats were assigned because, when I went to sit next to this kid, Aaron Nettles, who we called “Gay Aaron,” Ms. Drimmer made me park it next to Jen. What possessed her to do that? I don't know, but I know I was pissed.
Putting me next to her was like a problem waiting to happen. Every five seconds the damn girl was staring at me. Next thing you know, during the middle of the class, Clayton, who was sitting in front of me, passed me this note.
I opened it up to read it, preparing myself for the worst, in case the note was about me.
Desire is a ho. She sucks dick and licks ass.
The bitch is ugly too. Who would wanna hit that?
Silly bitch, silly bitch, Desire's a silly bitch!
A Genie in a bottle
Even if Jen claimed to not have written the note, she was point five seconds away from an ass-whuppin'. I had anger written all over my face.
“Girlllll, what's wrong with you? Fix your beautiful face.” Aaron smiled as he was passing out our worksheets.
I handed him the note.
He read it, and his mouth dropped. He threw the note back to me. “Jen was wrong for that, girl. She was dead wrong.”
“Mr. Nettles, this is not social hour. Pass the worksheets out quietly.”
“Watch, wait until class is over,” I mumbled.
“What was that, Miss Jones?”
I didn't answer.
“Excuse me, I'm talking to you, Miss Jones. You had a lot to say a minute ago. What's the problem?”
“Nothing.”
“No, it's something. Bring that note up to me.”
I brought the note up to her, threw it on her desk, and walked back to my seat.
In the process of me walking back to my seat, I hear the note being read aloud. “Desire is a ho. She sucks diâOkay, I will not continue to read this.”
I was confused as to why she was reading it aloud anyway. What was up with that? Was the word
ho
not enough to stop her? How embarrassing?
“Who is responsible for this?”
No one raised their hand. What idiot would?
I was about to cry. I slouched down in my seat, no longer tough. The class was quiet, except for minor giggles, but all eyes were on me.
“I want to know who wrote this letter about what Desire does.”
I wanted to make a quick getaway, but it would have been more idiotic for me to get up and run out of the class. I would have gotten clowned even more. I was saved by the bell though, Thank God. It rang right on time.
I jumped up out of my seat trying to make the getaway before my tears became active. Aaron, all in my face, saw my eyes watering. He put his arm around me to slow my pace as I was power-walking out of the classroom.