“It felt good,” said Damon, honestly. “Nothing ever felt that good.” David ran to retrieve the ball.
“Yeah,” said David, laughing. “It is the stuff, ain’t it?” Damon laughed, too, but still felt a little sick inside. He was silent, trying to figure out a way to put into words what he was feeling. David ran past him with the ball and made a lay-up. He grabbed the ball and then walked back over to Damon.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“It causes a lot of problems,” said Damon, finally voicing his disquiet. “It was crazy.”
“Which is why you’ve got to be careful who you hook up with,” said David, with a nod. He patted Damon on the shoulder in comfort and continued.
“I don’t get girls,” said Damon. “They are so confusing.”
“Chicks lie,” said David, with a decisive nod, then narrowed his eyes.
“She ain’t pregnant is she?”
“Nah,” said Damon.
“It’s like this, if she tells you she’s taking birth control pills, she’s probably not. Even if she is, cover up anyway. If she is taking pills that means she is protected, not you. You take responsibility and you will be all right. Just be more careful next time.”
“It’s not that,” said Damon, still not making his point clear. “I just thought she wanted to play around. But she was serious.”
David cocked his head to the side and studied Damon for a minute.
“Oh, you dog,” he said, light dawning. Damon nodded.
“I didn’t mean to.”
“Man, girls are different. I do not care who they are or where they come from. If they are giving up the honey, they got some feelings for you, no matter what they say. Even if they start out playing, they get serious quick. Females are much more emotional than they let on. If you’re not ready for that, better stick to sports, my brother, although, you suck at basketball.”
“Whatever,” said Damon and slapped the ball out of his brother’s hands. “I only let you get by me so you wouldn’t feel bad.”
David didn’t explain how Damon was supposed to ‘stick to sports’ when girls were splattering up against him like bugs on a windshield, and Damon didn’t want to ask and sound like he was complaining about being popular. He couldn’t really explain what he was feeling in words anyway.
“I like somebody,” he blurted.
“Yeah, so?” asked David. “She like you back?”
“I think-,” said Damon. He nodded his head.
“So, what’s the problem?” asked David. “She got a crazy ex, too?”
“No.”
She’s-,” Damon stopped
“What?”
“She might be special,” said Damon, slowly.
“Wrap it up,” said David and took a shot.
“All net,” he crowed and ran to retrieve the basketball.
Damon kept silent. David did not understand. Damon just knew that sex felt great, but mixing it up with emotions was messy.
Sasha
“I already went to Human Services,” said Sasha. She had huge circles of fatigue under her eyes and she wanted to fall on the floor and not get up. Gail, the woman who helped run the shelter, stopped her monologue briefly and eyed Sasha through the thickest glasses that Sasha had ever seen. “They told me that it will be at least thirty days before my application is finished being processed. That’s why they sent me here.”
“Well, that is step one,” Gail said, primly. “We have a bed open for you, but we need to have you placed somewhere before it’s time for your baby to come. We don’t have the facilities for a newborn, since we are a battered woman’s shelter.” She looked at Sasha’s bruised face with pity, which looked even worse nearly two weeks after the fight with her mother. Fortunately, it didn’t ache anymore.
Sasha nodded, weary to her bones. After sleeping rough for nearly two weeks, all she wanted to do was fall into bed, close her eyes and never open them again.
“We also require a twice weekly counseling session,” said Gail. She handed Sasha a sheaf of papers.
“You need to fill out all of these forms. You have to go through initial screening and then go to all of your doctor’s appointments.” She led Sasha down a long poorly lit hallway.
“All of the residents are currently out but will return in time for dinner, so you have the place to yourself.”
Sasha was silent.
“You have until Friday to get acclimated to the house.”
Gail glanced back at Sasha and Sasha nodded to show that she understood. Gail turned and continued with her monologue.
“Any illegal drug use or alcohol use will result in expulsion and require you to leave the shelter. You have to leave in the mornings by nine a.m. and go look for a job. You’ll be required to check back in before seven p.m., with a completed jobs log. Meals are at 8 in the morning, noon and five p.m. All the residents are expected to help with the cooking and cleaning. Curfew is 6:55p.m. At seven the doors close. No boyfriends or men visiting. You cannot tell anyone where this place is for the safety of the other residents.”
Gail stopped in front of a utility closet and took out frayed sheets and a red army issue blanket. Bleach scent wafted off of the sheets, causing Sasha’s empty stomach to roil in rebellion. She swallowed audibly to hold back the vomit.
“Yes, ma’am,” said Sasha, voiced choked. She took the papers, sheets and blankets that Gail handed her and followed her into a dismal little cell of a room that contained a stripped down twin bed and a ragged desk and chair. A battered oak chest of drawers was squeezed into the corner. The room was so small that all of the furniture touched. It looked like a prison cell that Sasha had once seen on television.
Once Gail made certain that Sasha was situated, she asked gently “Is there no one you can call to come and take you in?” She stood in the doorway,
