by Danae Ayusso
You can keep the French fuck.
“You’ll come around. He’s rather charming when he isn’t being a vile pig. He brings us food,” I offered.
That has to be his only redeeming quality.
I pulled my cell phone out and thumbed through the contacts before turning and headed the opposite direction. The temptation of following Miss Lea to her classroom and bludgeoning her to death was great, and I wasn’t sure if I was strong enough to reel Justice in…
I never was if it was homicide we had on the mind.
Since the library was empty, I took the stairs two at a time and went down to the historical section. After selecting a book, I sat in the corner and made a call.
“Hey Mama,” I whispered.
“Baby? What’s wrong?” Mama Jones demanded.
I shook my head. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I said.
“You aren’t pregnant, are you?” she asked. “I raised you better than that.”
I chuckled. “No, not pregnant. I miss you and De’Von. I wanted to check on you before school but I didn’t get any sleep and then I may have inadvertently hooked my cousin up with a bald-bi-trailer park kid with scars from a drunk mom… Never did I imagine finding likeminded souls all the way out here.”
Thankfully, she laughed.
“Well, while you’re hooking people up feel free to find yourself a good man,” Mama Jones said.
“Yeah, right. You know that isn’t something I can handle,” I reminded her, absently flipping through the book open on my lap. “All in due time though, I hope. I’m making progress. Only one felony assault today.”
“How many in your head though?”
“Six or so and a homicide,” I admitted and she laughed. “Hey, that’s progress, Mama. How’s De’Von? Is he around?”
She sighed. “He’s okay, he misses you. Jacquie took him into the city to see to a few things.”
“The FBI guy?”
“Yeah, he’s adorable. A white boy with white blond hair even.”
I laughed. “Please tell me you aren’t hooking up with him.”
“And if I was?”
My mouth fell open with a popping sound.
“Shut up! You are hitting the sheets with a Fed?” I asked in disbelief.
Mama Jones laughed. “I am. He likes big dark girls, and it’s been a long time since Mama’s felt a man’s touch. Besides, he’s not selfish lover, whispers poetry, and gives me money for whatever I want.”
I groaned. “A sugar daddy?”
“Yes and no. I haven’t taken anything from him, not since the money started coming in,” she admitted.
“What money?” I asked, an unsettling feeling gathering in my stomach.
“I don’t know where it’s coming from, but it’s needed,” she said. “If I knew where it was coming from or who was sending it, Baby, I’d promptly give it back after I got my hair and nails done. You should see my toes. They are bling’d out! Jacquie loves my toes being done… That white boy knows what a sista likes!”
And I just threw up in my mouth.
“Mental picture I could have done without,” I complained, causing her to laugh. “I’ll call De’Von when I get home from school. I need to check in with him. I miss you guys… I wish you were here with me. I need my mama to tell me that everything’s going to be all right.”
That stole the mirth from her.
“Baby, what’s going on?” she asked. “Are the monsters back?”
I nodded.
She sighed. “Baby, did you forget I’m on the phone?”
“Sorry, I nodded.”
Mama Jones softly chuckled. “It’s okay, Baby. How bad is it?”
“She tried to choke me out and kill me with her nasty ass breath,” I said.
Again, she chuckled. “No claws, no blood, no physical pain?”
“None.”
“Consider that a win, Baby. You’ll be okay. If needed, talk to your daddy about it… You haven’t told him, have you?”
I shook my head.
“Baby?”
“Sorry, I shook my head,” I grumbled.
“You need to tell him,” Mama Jones scolded. “He’s your father, he deserves to know that evil seeks you out.”
I licked my lips. “I don’t want him hurt.”
“He’ll only get hurt if you continue to keep it from him, Baby. If evil is coming for you still, your family that you’re there with, and that’s trying to keep you safe, can’t keep you safe if you are keeping things from them. They need to know what to look out for,” she scolded.
Damn it. I hate it when Mama’s right.
“I’ll talk to him,” I said. “Thank you, Mama. I miss you.”
“I miss you too, Baby,” she said. “Be safe and call whenever you can. I love you,” she whispered before hanging up.
“I miss you, too,” I whispered, wiping away the tear staining my cheek.
There was so much I needed to tell Price, so much that isn’t normal even for a cursed immortal that is hundreds of years old and one of the damned.
“But how do we tell him something we don’t understand ourselves?”
“By telling him.”
My head snapped to the side.
Sitting on the floor, leaning against a bookcase like I am, is Draven. In his hands was sketchpad and he was shading something in with the edge of a charcoal stick.
“Why aren’t you in class?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Mr. Meyers is going over the rules and regulations of automotive shop. I’ve heard them every semester since I was a freshman so there was no need to sit through them again. I was worried when Shep said you agreed to T.A. for Miss Lea.”
“With good reason,” I grumbled. “She’s a bitch.”
“Is that your opinion because she has a thing for ton père or because she’s a therapist moonlighting as a teacher?” he asked, his tone level and indifferent.
“Both, now,” I said and he chuckled. “Justice says Miss Lea is hiding something, and she wants to know what.”
Draven looked over at me. “Do you?”
“Want to know?”
“Do you agree with Justice on all accounts?”
I groaned. “Don’t you go all therapist on me, too. Misha tried that today and Justice was this close,” I said, pinching my fingers together, “to shoving her hand so far up his ass that she could use him as a puppet.”
He chuckled. “Kinky. I didn’t know that side was into that kind of thing.”
“Shut up. How much did you hear?”
He looked back to his sketchpad. “Everything. Jacque will not allow anything to happen to those you care about in Philly. Do they know where you are?”
I shook my head. “The Kensingtons that were asking around about me got scared off. Mama sic’d some of the homies on them. I’m sure the white dude she’s bumpin’ uglies with had something to do with it as well.”
“Most likely. Those with Federal authority tend to scare those with problems with authority off, in my experience,” he said, his tone level and indifferent. “If you have a problem with Miss Lea, why did you sign up for two of her classes?”
“What?” I asked.
“Miss Lea is the orchestra instructor as well as the French teacher,” he said. “From what I understand, you signed up for French. Parlez-vous français?”
I shook my head. “Non.”
Draven chuckled, slipping his sketchpad and charcoals in his bag before getting to his feet. He headed over to me so I stood.
“Training Bra, if you don’t speak French, why did you sign up for AP French?” he asked.
“Merde,” I hissed.
He smiled. “Now you’re just showing off,” he teased, motioning for me to walk with him and we headed down the stairs. “Try not to kill anyone today, Training Bra. The day is young and I have a date after school that I can’t put off a second time.”
I shook my head before shoving him and he flipped over the railing, di
sappearing before he hit the floor.
“Merde,” I groaned when he reappeared next to me.
“Are you trying to start a war?” Draven demanded, his eyes black. “Isn’t that the same thing that damned us all?”
“Not remotely the same,” I said when he started laughing, his eyes returning to black and white. “And I’m sure I’m not the only person that’s dropped you on your head from a great height.”
He threw his arm over my shoulder and pulled me into him as we walked. “But you’re the only one that looked slightly remorseful so that’s something. I told you that you’d come around eventually, I just didn’t think it’d be this quickly.”
I shook my head. “La vérité vaut bien qu’on passe quelques années sans la trouver,” I said, aspirated.
Draven smiled wide. “Truth is more valuable if it takes you a few years to find it. Renard. Very nice. There might be hope for you yet, Training Bra.”
That, I was certain, was the biggest lie he’s told yet.
It amused me that the office had no problem with me joining mythology fifth period and yet the teacher did.
Why?
I don’t know.
Draven warned me that she was a bitch, and I had hoped he was just messing with me, but he wasn’t.
“You think that you can just bump someone that signed up for this class last year because you had a sudden change of heart of the academic variety?” Professor Snakeweed asked.
Bitch-face, table for one.
“Not in the least,” I said. “Regrettably, I wasn’t here last year to sign up for classes so I had to be placed after the school year started. I apologize if that is difficult for you to understand or grasp the rudimentary concept of.”
Professor Snakeweed cocked an eyebrow. “That’s no excuse.”
She can’t be serious.
“Are you chasing your Oxy with Jack?” I asked, giving her a look. “Seriously, how in the hell was I supposed to sign up for a class when I didn’t even know I was going to be here?”
“Never mind her, Training Bra,” Draven called out from the back of the class. “She’s still pissed I turned her girlfriend straight. Isn’t that right, Professor Snakeweed?”
“You just earned yourself Saturday detention!” she informed the class.
I raised my hand. “I already have Saturday detention,” I said.
The Professor rolled her eyes. “Great, another byproduct of the urban public schooling system. Who did I piss off this time?” she complained, signing off on my paperwork. “What’s your GPA?”
“I don’t have one.”
“Last year, Genius. What was last year’s GPA? We heard all about your impressive test scores, but I don’t see it. You had to have cheated somehow. There’s no way this,” she said, waving up and down as if that explained it all, “was able to get the scores you did.”
Justice, please don’t cut her.
I nodded. “Contrary to what my Sunday best and highlights might suggest, I had no reason to cheat on the test I voluntarily took. And I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors that I’m crazy, talk to myself, my mom was stabbed to death by her dealer boyfriend in front of me, and that my intelligence quotient surpasses that of anyone in the school, teachers and present company included in that.”
To my surprise, she wasn’t pissed.
Professor Snakeweed nodded her acceptance of the challenge. “Why do you want to be in this class?” she asked. “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors about what a bitch I am, and how there’s no curve and that you have to turn in a ridiculous amount of homework and extra credit every week. We spend most of the week in the library researching since internet research isn’t permitted. Why subject yourself to that?” she asked, curious.
I didn’t know they spent most of the time in the library, and that is an added bonus.
“Why?” I rhetorically asked. “I’m a glutton for punishment and a masochist, apparently. Is that reason enough?”
She shook her head.
“Hanging out in the library my father designed, built, and paid for is reason enough to subject myself to you and your ridiculous higher opinion of yourself. Come on, admit it, you want to disprove Principal Wallace and my genetics, test scores, and I.Q. just like the next bitch.”
Professor Snakeweed smirked. “You aren’t as dumb as you look,” she said.
I’m sure that wasn’t meant as a compliment, but I’ll take it.
“I will admit I was disappointed not to see you in AP Physics. When I saw your name on the list I was ready for a challenge.”
I nodded. “Challenge you would have gotten, but that little beat down in English Lit yesterday caused a change in my schedule. Next semester though,” I promised.
To my surprise, Professor Snakeweed nodded her acceptance of the terms. “The class is full,” she said, “and Principal Wallace has warned the staff that whatever Mikhail-Justice Simoeau wants, she gets. You want to be in mythology, you’ll be the one to take the spot from the Copperhead that signed up last year with the rest of the student body. Get on with it. I have a lesson to give.”
Ugh! If I’m not careful, Justice will cut this bitch.
Reluctant, I looked around the class, trying to see if anyone was hinting that they would willingly give up their spot. And to my disappointment, they were all glaring at me and not one of them wanted to give up this class.
Not much of a surprise there, I suppose.
Draven offered a wave then motioned with his head to the chubby, skanky looking girl next to him that was sucking her gut in, trying for his attention.
As much as I want to take him up on the offer, I’m not that kind of woman. I’m an independent girl that isn’t going to jump when he tells me to.
Besides, I can smell her cheap perfume and body odor from here. That’s what he gets for letting Winnie pick an inferior that’s easy to be his mythology partner.
I headed down the aisle and Draven smiled.
I flipped him off before stopping next to Remi’s desk. “Sup Girlie?” I said.
Remi smiled and shoved the cheerleader sitting next to her out of the chair then dusted it off for me. “Baby Girl, I was saving a seat for you,” she teased with a wink.
I stepped over the fuming blonde on the floor and sat next to Remi. “Glad to see you made it to school,” I teased with a wink.
“It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” she admitted with a dramatic sigh, ignoring the complaints that had yet to stem from the irate cheerleader. “Getting it on in your family home would have been creepy though, especially with Price and Ellie there, not to mention, we were in Miss Shepherd’s bedroom. Even this trailer park princess has standards.”
I chuckled, nodding my understanding.
Professor Snakeweed turned to the blackboard. “This week: Indian mythology. Not Native American, but Indian, as in India. Not Vedic mythology. Not Hindu mythology. Not Buddhist mythology. Indian. Got it? With your partner, research and prepare a six thousand-word paper that will be presented to the class Monday on a specific lore or mythological creature of your choice from India. Don’t go to Wikipedia and copy and paste. I’ll know. And don’t insult my intelligence and ramble for five pages about the etymology of the selected mythological creature or lore. All documentation must be cited per page with notated pages and paragraphs of reference in the bibliography. Got it?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” the class said, gathering their things.
Professor Snakeweed motioned towards the door.
“We’re going to the library,” Remi said when I continued to sit there, confused.
Professor Snakeweed tossed a packet of papers on our table in passing. “The syllabus you missed yesterday,” she said before ducking out the door with the class.
“She’s challenging the wrong person,” I said, slipping the syllabus in my bag.
Remi chuckled. “You’ll do fine. She’s just butt-hurt that she’s not the smartest bitch in this joint anymore. You okay?”
I nodded, pulling out the Surface tablet that was in my bag instead of my laptop. “I tried to kill Draven again. He took a header over the railing in the library.”
“Too bad he didn’t hit,” she said with a chuckle.
“Is this yours?” I asked, looking at her.
Remi shook her head. “Kieran or Bleu slipped it in your bag. Teachers hate having to translate our chicken scratch and they want everything electronically sent to them. Saving trees and shit.”
That makes sense, but I’m a little irritated I didn’t notice it in my bag sooner.
You haven’t, technically, been to a class that required a tablet or paper.
True.
“Bleu gave me a protective cover for yours,” Remi said, pulling the tablet from her bag and showed me. “I’ll make sure it comes back in the same condition I got it in and my mom won’t see it so she can’t pawn it.”
I laughed.
“What?” she asked, embarrassed.
“Girlie, do you honestly think I wanted it back?” I asked, putting mine in my bag. “Do you honestly think Bleu would want you borrowing something when he is more than happy to give you it? That man is smitten with you.”
Remi looked around the empty classroom before groaning. “What kind of teenager says smitten?”
“One with a higher I.Q.,” I said with a smile.
“Gee, thanks.”
“Do you like him?” I pressed.
She shrugged. “I’ve had a crush on him since he came to Anaconda. He has that whole dark and mysterious thing going on. I never had the courage to talk to him though… Not that he talks to anyone, but still. Then you just had to treat me like a person and not a trailer park kid, and put me face to face with him… I didn’t know he was a cutter, too.”
Cutters aren’t something I’m familiar with. Are you?
I shook my head.
“He hasn’t cut in months, I can tell by the scarring,” she whispered, “but knowing that he’s messed up like I am actually makes me feel slightly normal. What do I do?”
“I’m the last person to talk to about relationships,” I said and she laughed. “Case in point, I have a man whore that is like herpes that won’t go away and keeps turning up when I least expect it.”