CHAPTER 12 #3
“You comin’ ta watch?” he asked me.
The sunflower seed shell sitting on my tongue suddenly felt sharp as glass. I didn’t say nothing. I couldn’t. My throat locked up. Mia jabbed her elbow into my ribs, grinning hard.
“Yeah,” I blurted out way too loud.
DeAndre laughed, light, easy, like the whole thing amused him. My face burned so hot I swear the air around me started cooking.
The court lights buzzed overhead, and moths kept slamming into the bulbs, like tiny kamikazes.
The game ran long, it always did when the older boys showed up talking trash.
DeAndre’s team won, and he boasted like he just won the lottery.
The crowd thinned out until it was mostly kids dragging their feet home.
I was standing near the chain fence when DeAndre walked over.
“Yo’ you gotta curfew?” he asked.
I opened my mouth, but before any words made it out, he closed the gap. It was a flash of heat. A whisper on my lips. He pulled back slow and grinned hard. My heart spent the rest of the night punching against my ribs trying to escape. I didn’t sleep at all.
But Mia wasn’t built for curbside flirting and basketball games.
That girl had a hunger for whatever came next.
We lounged in my bed letting the ‘Sister, Sister’ theme song drown out the 34 trolley.
Watching those sisters navigate a perfect world was our only way to ignore the raggedy edges of our own. Mia flipped onto her stomach,
“Summer,” she was scheming in the middle of a commercial break.
“There’s a party Friday at Dee’s brotha’s crib. Dude twenty-two, so he is buyin’ beer n’ everythin’.” She beamed like she was offering me a golden ticket.
“We goin’.”
“Girl, we not old enough ta drink,” I hit her with a reality check.
“And?” she barked.
“We look grown enough.”
Friday night came, and we suited up. Denim cuffed to perfection. Playing in the mirror longer than necessary, trying to convince ourselves we looked older than we was. Shay passed the doorway, caught our whole vibe and laughed in our face.
“Y’all look dumb as hell.”
Mia crossed her arms tight.
“Whateva yo’.”
“Where y’all think y’all goin’?” Shay pressed us.
“MikeMike havin’ a house party,” Mia shot back before I could stop her. Shay threw her head back cackling hard.
“Dey ain’t lettin’ no babies in there.”
“Why you hatin’ Shay dang.” Mia countered with a heavy attitude.
“Look, do ya thing, but I’m not lyin’ fa you. If Mama beats you to dis stoop, ya on ya own.”
She retreated down the hall, a wicked laugh escaping her. To her our Friday night plans was a joke.
We gripped the silver poles as the El screeched. Sitting in the back of the car, like two partners in a high-stakes mission. Mia nudged me, pointing out a group of older boys. I checked my gloss in the window's dark reflection, leaning into the heat of the night.
When we hit the pavement, the bassline from the house party vibrated through the concrete.
The house was already sweating with people.
Usher’s smooth vocals and Aaliyah’s cool vibe flooded the room.
Guys years older than us lined the perimeter, propping up the drywall.
They puffed heavy on blunts, the cherry-red tips glowing in the dim light.
Mia blended in, effortlessly. I stayed near the edge at first, nerves buzzing under my skin. Mia grabbed my wrist. It was a jolt of reality through my bones. A reminder that we was in this game together.
“Relax,” she insisted, flashing that fearless smile. “I gotchu sis.”
My shoulders dropped, and I let the melody dictate my moves. Mia emerged back out of the crowd, a grin plastered on her face and her hands full of trouble. She nudged my shoulder with a cup, her expression a mix of hype and pressure.
“Be a big girl fa once.” I didn't blink. I looked past her at the dudes propping up the walls and recognized the danger of a clouded brain.
“Come on, take a sip, Sum. Nobody is watchin’.” She pressed.
But I knew better. I pushed the drink back.
“Nah, I’m good. You don’t need it eitha.” My boundaries was carved in stone. I was twelve, and the streets was already hungry enough. That drink was a bridge I wasn't ready to cross.
“Girl, one sip won’t kill you.”
She challenged me with a look, her eyes burning with a dangerous kind of freedom. I held my ground, the word no a definitive end to the night's fantasy.
When I pushed the door open, the house was dead.
Mama was slumped on the couch, a cigarette burning low between her fingers, the smoke curling toward the ceiling fan.
The twins knocked out in their beds. Shay wasn’t home.
The only sound was the refrigerator humming in the kitchen and my own heart beating too fast.
I sat motionless on the bed, the gloss on my mouth a drying signature of the girl I tried to be tonight.
A distant ringing haunted my ears, a ghost of the party.
The day's madness was hitting its target in my chest.
I was in a war zone between two paths. Shay was a warning shot.
A lesson in what happens when the block finally breaks you.
Mia was an invitation to a different disaster.
Pulling me toward a life that was louder, harder, and years beyond my reach.