Brielle walked into the cafeteria with a couple of her girls. Damon didn’t know them but they looked familiar. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Brielle. When she’d bumped into him, he’d been surprised by her soft strength and luscious scent. She smelled like something really good to eat, and made his mouth water just thinking about her. Like a movie star, Brielle had an honest to god little black mole next to her full lips that made him want to lean down and kiss the corner of her mouth.
Damon didn’t know what had piqued his interest in Brielle, he’d known her for years after all, but until their altercation, they’d never really talked. Brielle was his sister’s friend.
He had to admit that she was beautiful. Tall and graceful, she had slender curves in all the right places. She wasn’t banging like Sasha, whose breasts and butt always seemed about to bust out of her clothes. Brielle was subtle.
“You got your eye on the stork?” asked Chauncey. “She’s cute, but too young for me. I’d tap that if she wasn’t jail bait walking.”
Fury washed over Damon in a wave so fierce he wanted to get up and punch Chauncey. He could tease Brielle about her height or think about getting with her, but nobody else better. He caught himself before he jumped in the brother’s face and got stomped for his trouble.
“Her name is Brielle,” said Damon, firmly. His expression was serious. “She’s like a little sister to me.”
“My bad,” said Chauncey, in apology. He held up his hands. Little sisters were always scratched off the blazing list.
“It’s cool,” said Damon, mollified.
“So you gotta work tonight?” asked Chauncey.
“And I got a ton of homework. Figuring out how to juggle,” said Damon.
“Get a babe to do it for you,” said Chauncey, as if it was a no-brainer. “That’s what I usually do.” He picked up the coke can sitting in front of him and drained the can in two gulps. He then smashed the can with one hand and set it back on the table.
“Naw,” said Damon. He wanted to roll his eyes, but didn’t. He could do the homework blindfolded. Why come to the best magnet school in the city of you didn’t care about learning? But the easiest way to start a beef was to make some hulk feel stupid or act too smart, so he took the easy way out. “I don’t know too many babes here.”
“Brother with a face like yours will have them dripping off your jock like honey in no time,” said Chauncey, very matter-of-fact. Chauncey was dark skinned and good looking. He was big, a little taller that Damon’s six-three and bulkier through the shoulders and chest. “Especially if you come out for football.”
“I think I’m ineligible because I switched schools and my parents didn’t move into the district,” said Damon, secretly relieved that he couldn’t play. “Besides, I missed all the summer practices. All I would do is ride the bench. There is nothing more pathetic than a bench riding senior.”
He hated playing football in reality. He liked to watch the game on television but did not see the point in having a bunch of dudes the size of gorillas stomp on him in the name of fun. His brothers had been appalled by that fact and ragged on him for months until his father put a stop to it. Plus, he had asthma. Getting drilled in the chest day after day was guaranteed to trigger an attack and Damon wasn’t looking forward to not being able to breathe. It was too scary.
“True,” said Chauncey. “Dude, that’s whack.”
“Yeah,” said Damon. “That just leaves all the football groupies for you.”
“You know,” said Chauncey, laughing and holding up his hand for a fist bump. Damon gave it to him.
Sasha
Sasha sat in the library and googled for a teen shelter.
“Come on,” she whispered. She scrolled down, looking for places that might take in pregnant teenagers. Several people looked at her with curiosity in their eyes but no one approached her.
The bus ride to Grand Rapids hadn’t been a big deal. The bus was clean and almost deserted. Luckily, she’d had $40.00 in her purse when her mother kicked her out or she wouldn’t have been able to go anyplace. She had been wandering around Grand Rapids for four days. The first few days she had gone to fast food restaurants but the $200 that her father had given her during her ill-fated flight to sanctuary was dwindling quickly. She was still stunned that daddy hadn’t let her stay; that his solution was to suggest that Sasha go back home to her mother. Sasha was certain that daddy expected her to use part of the $200.00 to take the bus back to Lansing and when he got up the nerve to call her mother they would both be frantic that Sasha wasn’t there.
‘Serves them right.’
“I’m not going home,” she whispered. She couldn’t go to her best friend Gabby’s house, because her parents would immediately call her mother. She had stayed to herself for most of the past few weeks and she didn’t have her phone anyway, even if she was increasingly willing to call someone.
“It’s just you and me, baby,” she said looking down at her rounded belly.
Back in Lansing, when she was a young teenager, Sasha had volunteered with her mother at a place called Advent House. It was a drop in shelter for people to come and eat. Sasha had hated the place. Hated the dirty, unkempt people with the scruffy children. Hated the smell of unwashed sadness. And here she was, dirty, stinking, unwashed. It was amazing how fast a person got dirty and smelly when they lived outside as
