“Before I forget,” Dawn began as she took out the Super-8 camera from underneath the counter followed by a huge box of film. “A deal is a deal.”
I jumped up-and-down clapping my hands like a giddy girl on Christmas morning, except this was better than any Christmas gift I’d ever received.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful,” I said petting my new toy.
The bells on the front door jingled. I turned around and saw Jane step inside, her face slightly twisted in shock and reluctance. She cautiously walked over to me clutching her purse trying very hard not to touch anything.
Dawn’s face perked up at the sight of Jane.
“Jane. What brings you in today? Looking for a spell on how to revive your fashion sense? I must say your cute yellow sundress really brightens up your complexion. And that little cardigan tied around your shoulders makes me want to vomit,” she said with a smirk daring Jane to say something.
My jaw dropped so low, I could literally feel the ground. There were times when Dawn had no filter, a trait I learned to love over time but bullying others was something I wasn’t willing to tolerate. It was a sensitive subject for me because I used to get bullied in middle school.
“I’m going to get frozen yogurt, and then I’ll wait for you in the car, Alexis.” Jane had grown accustomed to Dawn’s abuse, she often ignored her. Jane smiled timidly before leaving.
“What is wrong with you?” I gave Dawn the evil eye.
“What? She’s a walking snob. She was asking for it the moment she let Martha Stewart dress her. I really don’t know why you hang out with her.”
“People have feelings, you know? Just because she doesn’t share the same tastes as you, doesn’t make her a target of your bitterness!” I was furious with Dawn and quickly regretted my decision to come see her.
The bells on the door rang again. This time, it was Eddie who walked through with his little sidekicks Mason and Vance trailing behind looking around the shop with intense curiosity. They were all dressed like good church-going Southern boys in khaki pants, long sleeve shirts, and bow ties.
I turned to Dawn, wide-eyed and full of dread.
“What’s up?” Eddie said stopping next to me.
“Nothing. Just hanging out,” I replied trying to sound casual.
“Cool,” he said with a smirk. “Listen, Mason is having a party after the football game on Friday. You guys should come.”
“Like, I totally wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Dawn said in a preppy voice. “I’m so there.”
“Funny.” Eddie didn’t look amused. He looked at me, waiting.
I placed my hand on the counter trying to find an excuse to give him. “Uh—you know how my mother is. She won’t let me out of her sight.”
“That’s never stopped you before,” he shot back.
I turned to Dawn and mouthed what the hell? As much as I tried to blow Eddie off, he wasn’t getting the hint I was no longer interested in him.
He was right, though. If I really wanted to go to the party, I could easily sneak out. He was the one who convinced me to sneak out of my room for the first time a year ago while we were dating. But that was in the past. I wasn’t willing to do it anymore. At least not for him. Not after what he did.
“Yo, let’s get out of here. I’m scared I’m going to get turned into a dog,” Mason said.
“You’re already a dog, Mason,” Dawn said with a curt smirk.
Mason’s face lit with anger as he clenched his jaw. “Whatever, bitch,” Mason snapped knocking over a box of candles on purpose on his way out. “Oops.”
“That’s not cool, man!” Eddie and I knelt down on the ground and picked up the candles as Dawn rushed over to us.
“Asshole!” Dawn shouted after Mason. “Great friends you have, Eddie.”
“I’m sorry,” he said apologetically. I could hear the guilt in his voice. Ever since Eddie ditched us to hang with the rich, popular crowd of Dixon High, things between us had not been the same. Seeing he wasn’t going to win this battle, Eddie walked out.
“When did Eddie turn into such a jerk?”
“He didn’t,” I said surprised by the sudden need to defend Eddie. “His new friends are jerks.”
“Seriously?” Dawn snapped.
I shook my head in no mood to engage in a pointless argument with Dawn. “Don’t start with me.”
Dawn stood up with the box of candles in hand. With a loud thud, the candles spilled and rolled all over the ground.
“He’s here!” Dawn shrieked.
“Who’s here?” I instantly stood up and turned toward the front door where, right outside The Burning Witch, Dylan and—Milo—slid off their motorcycles.
My heart hammered in my chest, I thought I was going to have a heart attack. My first instinct was to run, but where to? The backdoor.
“I’m out of here!” Dawn clutched my arm before I could take off and dragged me with her.
“No. Come with me please?” Dawn said petrified. “I need you.”
Even though I didn’t want to be there, I felt guilty for ditching Dawn. Throughout our friendship, she’d been there for me more times than I could count. When I found out Eddie was cheating on me, she was at my doorstep with a tub full of ice-cream, popcorn, and tissues ready to pull an all-nighter. So I couldn’t bring myself to abandon her now.
I watched Dawn run into Dylan’s arms then make-out as if no one else existed. I stood there trying very hard not to make eye-contact with Milo, even though I sensed his gaze fixated on me. What was he doing here anyway? Was he Dylan’s third wheel? I gave him a quick, polite nod as my eyes flicked down his body. He wore his hair in a ponytail, the dark waves cascading down the back of his neck, black torn jeans, and a gray Guns N’ Roses t-shirt. He was nonchalantly leaning against his Triumph motorcycle, arms crossed, and looking hotter than ever.
My cheeks blushed when Milo realized I was checking him out. The corners of his lips rose as he examined me from head-to-toe, eyeing me carefully in a semi-fascinated manner. I hugged my body feeling self-conscious.
“You clean up nicely,” he said.
“Excuse me?” I asked narrowing my eyes.
Milo laughed softly. “I meant to say, you look—” he scanned my body again, this time clinging to every curve. “Very nice.”
I shifted uncomfortably under my cardigan, anger simmering through my veins. He was teasing me.
“You remember me?” he asked.
“Unfortunately.”
He chuckled. “I like your sense of humor.”
I didn’t say anything for a moment. But what I said next shot out of me so quickly, it made me sound jealous. “How does your girlfriend feel about you flirting with other girls?”
He snickered. “First of all, if you wanted to know if I had a girlfriend, all you had to do was ask. Second”—he paused, his face turned serious, dark eyes piercing into mine—“I was only flirting with you.”
Whoa.
A flutter of excitement stirred in my stomach, but as much as I wanted to feel flattered, I knew he was screwing with me. I’m sure that’s what he told every single girl he met, a ploy to charm them out of their panties. Despite anger rising in my body, it didn’t stop my cheeks from heating. I’d never met a guy who made me feel so damn nervous. His eyes wouldn’t leave mine, and for once in my life, I didn’t know what to say.
Breaking eye-contact with Milo, I glanced around Main Street suddenly aware of the locals staring at us with stern disapproval as they passed by. Even though Milo and Dylan didn’t have their wings out, they stood out. No one in Dixon dressed like punks and metalheads or drove motorcycles. Big body trucks, square-toed boots, and monogrammed t-shirts were the norm here.
“How about you show me around your little town?” he asked smoothly.
I scoffed. “What makes you think I’d go anywhere with you?”
“Because I’m charming.” He stepped away from his motorcycle and took a step closer
to me. “And girls like you can’t resist me.”
“Girls like me?” I snapped confused.
I gazed over at Dylan and Dawn who were still locked in a passionate embrace lost in their own little bubble.
It was presumptuous of Milo to assume the type of person I was. He didn’t know anything about me. All I wanted to do at that moment was slap that stupid grin off his face.
“Curious,” Milo said in a matter-of-fact tone.
“I’m not curious—” I began, but Milo cut me off as he came around me. I swallowed hard commanding my body to stand still.
“Yeah, you are. Even though it scares you to be near me because of what I am,” Milo closed in on me leaving no distance between us. He was so close I could smell the peppermint in his mouth. “You’re still curious about all the rumors you hear.”
“I want nothing to do with your kind,” I said disgustedly.
“Do I make you nervous?”
“No.” I lied.
“Then why are you blushing?” He whispered into my ear sending shivers all over causing my body to tense.
I quickly stepped away. Once I was out of his reach, I stopped and looked back and eyed Milo sharply. His grin now turned into a triumphant look of amusement, he knew he affected me. Milo knew he got under my skin and I hated it.
CHAPTER
8
Monday after school, I was relieved to find an empty driveway as I rolled in my black 1997 Mustang with brand new tires. The ‘Stang, as I lovingly called it, was the proud result of two years working my butt off serving as a soccer referee at the rec center on weekends and sacrificed holidays at the Dixon Corner Mart. And I got it at a good price since it was stick-shift, a new talent I acquired by watching YouTube videos. The ‘Stang and I had a date with destiny en route to L.A. cruising through Route 66. I couldn’t wait.
I stepped through the front door and was immediately hit by a nasty smell of dirty socks and dog crap. Scrunching my nose, I walked into every room searching for the scent and found Isaac glued to the television eating cold leftover pizza and surrounded by dirty toilet paper.
“What did you do the living room you little brat?” I demanded.
“It wasn’t me. It was already like this.”
“Why haven’t you cleaned it?”
Isaac shrugged without glancing away from the screen.
I walked over to him and realized he was watching FOX NEWS on the flat screen, with a news headline that read ANGEL SAVES GIRL FROM FALLING.
“We have amazing video live from New York as an angel saves a young girl who was dangling twenty-feet up in the air from a balcony,” the news anchor said.
As I got closer, I caught a glimpse of an angel flying up to save the little girl. The crowd cheered when the angel landed safely on the ground, and the little girl ran into the arms of her frightened parents. Anytime the angel smiled during his interview, I scowled. It wasn’t a genuine smile, it was a smile that reminded me of a crooked salesman. I wasn’t quite sure, but something about the angels didn’t feel right. Every save and miracle they performed felt staged. With one click I turned off the television. Isaac let out a loud groan.
“If mother finds out you’re watching this, she’s going to kill us both, cut us into little pieces then feed us to Killer,” I told Isaac.
Killer, our black teacup Chihuahua, stuck his tiny head out from underneath the blankets at the sound of his name.
“But they’re so awesome!” Isaac said. “I want to be like them when I grow up.”
I frowned at the thought. “You can’t grow up to be an angel, Isaac. It doesn’t work like that.”
Isaac thought about it for a moment then said, “Maybe I can be one for Halloween!”
I shook my head annoyed. The angels were influencing my little brother, and I didn’t like it, I didn’t like it at all. “Like hell, you will. Where’s the man our mother married?” I asked sarcastically.
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I didn’t see him when I got home.”
My nostrils flared. It bothered me that Paul couldn’t care less about his son. How could he leave him home alone? He was only seven. It didn’t surprise me though. This wasn’t the first time Paul left Isaac alone to fend for himself. A couple of weeks ago while my mother and I were both working, the police found Isaac playing outside close to midnight by himself. Luckily, my mother knew the cop and didn’t report it.
“Come on, we have to try out my new camera.”
I made Isaac wear an old luchador mask I got at a swap meet in Atlanta a few years ago and completed the outfit with shorts and cowboy boots. He looked ridiculous, but it was the only clean clothing we could find in his room.
We hung out inside an overgrown brush where at some point during my childhood, an actual yard with a small garden at the center clear of debris once stood. I remembered having one-on-one soccer matches with Priscilla back here. Today, it looked like an unkempt jungle.
“Walk slowly toward me,” I directed Isaac. “Remember your back story: you’re El Rey del Desmadre; The King of Destruction, a local hero who is seeking vengeance for your wife’s death. You’re in a forest following your enemies, the Fu Manchu Ninjas, after they kidnapped your daughter. So act warily.”
Isaac stopped, scratched his head then asked, “What does warily mean?”
“Cautious,” I informed him briefly taking my eye off the viewfinder. “I’m still rolling so keep walking.”
Isaac followed my lead and walked carefully through the brush.
“You’re about to stumble onto the Fu Manchu ninjas secret hiding place when all of a sudden…ninja stars fall from the trees!” I grabbed the paper ninja stars from my back pocket I made during class and threw them at Isaac. Except, he didn’t act surprised or shocked.
“This is stupid,” Isaac whined.
“Cut!” I pressed the stop button on the camera and covered the lens. “Isaac, you promised you would help me if I played with you.”
“Yeah, but this is no fun. This mask is itchy,” he complained slipping off the mask.
“Fine, let’s take five. We can go wash my car,” I said pulling Isaac by the arm. “Then go cruising afterward. I’ll even let you buy me ice-cream with the money you coaxed out of me the other day.”
“Sounds boring,” Isaac snorted.
We spent the evening washing my precious baby soaking in the sunshine while listening to an 80’s & 90’s Hits radio station. I gave my little slave wheel duty as I rinsed away when Michael Jackson’s ‘Bad’ came on. Isaac popped his head up and started dancing.
“Turn it up,” he said bobbing his little head.
Completely stunned, I replied, “What do you know about Michael Jackson?”
“I know how to do this,” he said as he slid backward mimicking the infamous moonwalk.
“Where’d you learn how to do that?”
“YouTube.” Of course. You could learn anything on YouTube nowadays.
I turned up the music on the stereo and joined Isaac. I tried my best to follow Isaac’s dance moves but failed miserably. I watched Isaac channel the King of Pop, so naturally, it looked like he’d been practicing. We kept dancing as we wiped the car down, using the water hose as a microphone to mouth the lyrics until…the music cut off. I glanced up and found a disheveled Paul on the other side of my car, his eyes flickering with anger.
“I thought you said he wasn’t home,” I whispered to Isaac.
“His truck wasn’t here.”
“Turn that crap off!” He spat out. “I’m tryin’ to sleep.”
I grimaced. I should’ve kept my mouth shut, but I was so mad I replied, “Quiet hours are between ten and six.” I turned the music back on.
In a flip of a second, Paul reached into my car and punched the radio leaving a dent in the middle. It felt like Paul hit me deep in the gut. My voice shot up many decibels when I screamed, “Are you going to pay for that? Oh no, wait, you can’t because you’re a bum!”
Paul came
barreling towards me like he was going to hit me. I stood in place, clenching my hands, ready for whatever happened next even though I was terrified he might hurt me. I pushed Isaac behind me using my body as a shield. When Paul reached me, I noticed the vast emptiness in his eyes, like his soul wasn’t there. He was probably still drunk from the previous night.
“Look you little pot-head, you don’t like my rules, then get the hell out my house.” The words spilled out of him like melting lava. If I weren’t so damn scared, I would have laughed in his face for calling me a pot-head because I’d never touched the drug in my life.
“Gladly,” I countered in defiance. “I’d rather live on the streets than here with you.”
“Go ahead. You’ll just turn into a little whore like your sister.”
My face turned serious. How dare he talk about Priscilla? It’s no wonder she hated Paul with all her guts. Now I understood why she ran away. Not wanting to give him a reason to call me other names, I took Isaac’s hand and ushered him into the car.
“Let’s go, Isaac.”
We sat in silence while we ate our ice-cream. The parking lot at the Swirling Vanilla was relatively empty and, even though I had a double scoop of Cookies n’ Cream ice-cream, it didn’t sooth the amount of pain I felt after my altercation with Paul. I was angry at myself for allowing him to get me so worked up. In the past, I’d been able to shrug off all the stupid shit that came out Paul’s mouth, but not this time. Part of me wanted to leave right now and never look back, but I couldn’t go and leave Isaac alone with that monster.
THE TRAGIC + DIVINE Page 7