by Rhonda Shaw
The only other attire I was content in was a leotard and ballet skirt, but those were hardly appropriate to wear outside the studio.
“Okay, I’ve got your schedules.” The clerk handed over a slip of paper and went over Monica’s with her, and then she turned to me. “Your first hour is—” she pulled out another piece of paper and pointed to a corner, “—right here. Here’s a map of the school, and your lockers are here. I’m Ms. Thomas, if either of you girls need anything or have any questions.”
Armed with the stack of papers, we left the office and headed off to our respective classes, but not before I overheard the woman’s remark to her co-worker. “That poor girl is going to get eaten alive out there, and she’s the older one.”
Yes. She was probably right.
Bidding Monica good-bye, the last friendly face I would likely see all day, I made my way down the long hallway as a bell trilled overhead, followed by doors banging open left and right to emit swarms of bodies rushing toward me. The mass swallowed me up and I hitched up my shoulders, trying to push through. Some glanced my way, some ignored me, which I was thankful for, and others stopped and stared. My face flushed and my body trembled, but I kept my focus trained forward and continued walking, trying to mold myself against the wall in order to stay out of the way.
The crowd pushed and pulled me in multiple directions, and I fought to keep my ground. People yelled around me as if I wasn’t there. Papers, books, and other objects were tossed into my path, causing me to duck, but I persisted, fighting the crushing wave, and refusing to stop or make eye contact with anyone. The bell rang again, and the hallway cleared out as quickly as it had filled, leaving me alone again. I stopped and leaned against the cement wall, grateful to be able to take a deep breath.
Reaching the classroom, I paused and tried to steady my pounding heart.
“Let the fun begin,” I mumbled and opened the door.
The teacher turned at the sound, his expression puzzled, but friendly. “Yes?”
It all became real with several pairs of eyes following my every move, and I tried to swallow around the sudden tightening of my throat. “I’m in your class.” My voice wobbled and my hand shook as I handed him my schedule.
His smile broadened, trying to put me at ease, which I appreciated, even if it didn’t help. He glanced at the paper he took from me. “Welcome, Gabrielle. I’m Mr. Watson.” He turned to the classroom. “Class, this is Gabrielle. Let’s make her feel welcome, okay? There’s an open desk right there.” He pointed toward the back corner of the room.
I rushed down the aisle and slumped into the seat with an inward sigh. I only had to survive through seven more classes and then the day would be over.
Mr. Watson restarted his lecture and I recognized the topic of the Civil War, something my old school had covered the year before, so I let my eyes roam over the other students sitting around me. Not one resembled me—a straight-laced, conservative white girl from the suburbs, although I wasn’t the only white person present.
The area, known for its high number of factories, was home to many blue-collar neighborhoods, and I lived in their world now; not by choice, but by events out of my control. All I cared about was getting through the school year, my last one. After graduation, I could follow my dreams to Juilliard and put this whole mess behind me.
“Please pass this back to Gabrielle.” Mr. Watson handed a book to the student in the first chair.
I was startled at hearing my name, turning too late to catch the book tossed over the shoulder in front of me, and it landed on the floor with a loud, heavy thud. Before I could pick it up, another hand beat me to it.
My heavyset neighbor held the hardcover over his head, out of reach, and his dark brown eyes smirked at me. “Fifty dollars, and I’ll give it back to you.”
My eyes flitted to the front of the classroom, but the teacher’s attention was on the blackboard, unaware of the happenings. I swallowed, unsure of what to say or how even to handle the situation. The last thing I wanted was to get the teacher involved, especially on my first day, forever labeled a snitch. But then a low voice spoke, saving me from having to do so.
“Don’t be an ass, Kris. Give her the fucking book back.”
I scanned behind me and spotted the owner of the voice leaning back in his chair. His black hoodie kept his face in shadows, but as he leaned forward, his sharp blue eyes came into view, shocking me with their intensity.
“You gonna give me fifty, D?”
He glanced at me before scowling and slouching in his seat, looking bored. “Nah, but I’ll give you a foot up your ass if you don’t give her the book.”
Kris sighed and tossed the book on my desk. I gave him a fleeting glance before looking back at the boy in the corner, who had turned his attention to the window. I studied him with interest for a second, and, as if he felt my eyes on him, his head turned my way.
“What?” he mouthed with an annoyed frown.
I jerked and dropped my gaze to the floor by his feet, but whispered, “Thank you” before turning around. Believing I’d found a compassionate heart, I’d been hopeful, but very wrong.
The day progressed without another incident, and I got used to the stares, nudges, and points in my direction. I only had to keep my focus on my goal at the end of this battered road. I could, and would, make it through.
Stopping at my locker after my last class, I tried the padlock, but someone had taken a hammer to the dial, and there was no hope in using it. I leaned against the beat-up metal cubby, with a huge dent in the bottom preventing the door from closing, and dropped my backpack with a defeated sigh. I glanced down the now silent hallway, taking in the strewn papers, food wrappers, and whatever else thrown everywhere, as if the hall was one big garbage can. The clock on the far wall didn’t even work, forever on straight up twelve, and more than one burned out light hung overhead, throwing long stretches into darkness. Graffiti marked the walls, some of which still showed, the attempts to cover with paint failing. I didn’t belong here, but it didn’t matter. There was no way out.
~ Danny ~
I stood in the shadows, watching. She looked breakable and overwhelmed standing there, fighting with her locker and forcing back the tears. The circumstances bringing her here were a mystery, but, without a doubt, it was clear she would rather be anywhere else. She stood out like a sore thumb, like royalty among the servants, and thinking about how she most likely expected the world to kiss her ass when she walked by made my blood boil. She should expect fair treatment when playing with the commoners, and I was no different. I was sick and tired of feeling like I was nothing, simply because I hadn’t been born into the same opportunities as others; that I had to work for everything I had.
As I continued to watch her, however, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. She was obviously upset, and, if anything, had tried to keep her head down and blend into the walls. An impossible feat, in my opinion.
She was beautiful, no question about it. I had no idea what the story was with her clothes, but whatever. I wasn’t one to talk. Even though she wore her hair pulled back into a tight bun, the honey blonde color was silky and stunning, with white and golden streaks throughout. Her skin was fresh and clear, her pink tinted cheeks giving her a fragile appearance, but her eyes stood out most. They were big, round, and the shade of bright emeralds mixed with a rich bronze. I found myself wanting to talk to her in order to see them up close, which only made me irritated again.
School hadn’t been in my plan this year, intending to drop out and focus on my ticket out of this hellhole, which didn’t require a diploma, but something had pulled at me to show up, and now I wondered if I was looking at it. I didn’t question fate; I believed in destiny or predetermination, but the last thing I needed was some stuck-up chick interrupting my plans. I struggled to harden myself against her, but watching as she sunk against the locker in defeat, the desire to reach out, to shelter and comfort her, was too overwhelming.
Pushing away from the wall, I stepped out of the shadows. I would help her one more time, and then I would forget her and this place.
“You don’t want to be here alone for too long.” My voice was harsher than I meant it to be, but she needed truth more than she needed a friend.
Her head jerked up. I half expected her to cower away, but she surprised me by reaching for her bag and rushing forward to get in step with me. “Thank you.”
I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye, but didn’t stop.
“It was nice of you—”
“I’m not nice.” I snorted at the ridiculousness of that description.
“Oh. Well, I appreciate that you—”
“Look.” I stopped, turning toward her as I lowered my hood. “You seem like a nice girl; maybe a little uptight, but whatever.” I waved at her, standing there all buttoned up. “But watch your back, all right?”
Her eyes watered. “Watch my back?”
Jesus. I hadn’t meant to make her cry, so I bent toward her, forcing her gaze to mine and tried to soften my message. “Look, I don’t know who you are or where you come from, but you don’t belong here. We all know that. I’m just trying to give you some pointers, so I don’t pass your body along the side of the road somewhere.”
She nodded as a tear fell down her cheek.
I sighed and shifted my weight, at a loss as to what to say. I was obviously going about this all wrong. “Fuck it.” I grabbed her arm and pulled her down the hall with me. “Let’s go.”
She let me tug her with zero resistance and that worried me. If she wanted to survive in this hood, she needed to have some fight in her.
Once outside, I jogged down the cracked cement steps, giving acknowledging nods to those who still mingled around the front of the school and were glancing our way, curious about what was transpiring. When I reached the crumbled sidewalk, I stopped and let go.
“Now get out of here. Go home and don’t stop until you get there.”
“Can I at least know your name?”
“Jesus Christ, girl! What’s your deal? Just get out of here.”
She scowled, tears forgotten. “I can’t even know your name? What? Am I not good enough?”
My brows lifted, surprised at her change in tone. I studied her a minute, before shaking my head. Maybe she did have a backbone on her. “D.”
“D?” she repeated with a look of disbelief.
“My name is D.” Maybe she wasn’t as smart as she looked.
“Your name is D? Like, as in the letter ‘D’?”
I nodded as I pulled my hood back up. “Yep.” I started down the sidewalk before turning and walking backward. “And you’re not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.”
Chapter 4
~ Gabrielle ~
Six Years Earlier
Giddy that I’d been able to convince my mother to let me try out for the local ballet company despite not having the money, I skipped down the front steps of the school, my duffel bag containing my dance apparel hanging over my shoulder, and set down the sidewalk. Three miles stood between the high school and the studio, and the walk would take me through some of the rougher neighborhoods, but I hoped being in broad daylight would afford me some protection. Otherwise, I was out of luck. The only bus route available arrived too late and I didn’t have money for a taxi, if one was even to be found.
I kept my eyes forward and my shoulders back. Maybe if I appeared comfortable and used to my surroundings despite unease lurching within me, I wouldn’t draw any attention, but that was probably too much to ask for.
Over the past week, I still suffered through the stares and snide remarks behind my back from the other students. I ignored them as much as possible, determined not to let anything affect me, even though my face heated and burned with each comment overheard. It took everything I had to keep my head down and pull away from the hands groping my behind as I walked down the hallway, while the owner whispered in my ear that he wanted to help me “unwind” before cackling with his friends. For some unexplained reasons, the males of the school believed their duty was to loosen the “tight-ass librarian;” my new nickname. I could endure the long school days knowing afterward, my sanctuary awaited, which was what dance was for me.
Exposed to ballet at a young age, I’d fallen in love with the art. Every day as a little girl, I only wanted to wear my leotard and tutu, and I’d twirl around, pretending to be a prima ballerina. My family had attended endless recitals and shows over the years, as I took part in every performance I could. With each one, I strived to be better, perfecting my form in order to achieve the lead role.
I’d finally accomplished my dream of landing the principal in Swan Lake when my world had fallen apart. Now, it was time to pick up the pieces and return to where I’d left off; back at having to prove myself, but I savored the challenge, excited to show my talent. I needed this if I had any chance at trying out and getting a scholarship to Juilliard, which was my one ticket out of this hell in which I found myself.
Despite its less than desirable location, the studio was renowned for its classical ballet intensive and its connection to the local company in the city. I hadn’t considered myself lucky at all since our move to this downtrodden area, but if there was a positive anywhere, this was it. My hopes and dreams hinged on being able to start over again at this studio.
A hand landed on my shoulder, throwing me off guard, and I stumbled. Catching myself, I turned, my eyes widening at the sight of the group of boys following me, and I took a hesitant step back.
“Hey, baby. Where you goin’?”
Five guys surrounded me, and they all appeared to be around my age, if not a few years younger or older. All of them eyed me as if I was a succulent piece of candy, and I started to shake.
I tried to take another step back, but bumped into one of them. His smile was lewd and my skin crawled. When another hand reached out, I spun out of its reach, hyperventilating as panic took over.
“Please. Please just leave me alone.”
“Now come on, sweetie,” the first guy said, who seemed to be the leader of the group. “We just wanna get to know ya, you sweet thing.” He licked his lips as his gaze traveled down the length of my body.
Circling me, they all murmured in agreement, and my head became fuzzy and dizzy from lack of oxygen. He noticed my bag on my shoulder and yanked on the strap. “Whatcha got in your bag, sweetie?”
I jerked out of his grasp and smacked into someone else, and then they swarmed. What felt like thousands of hands grabbed at me from every angle, and I couldn’t get away from them. They tugged, pushed, and pulled me in multiple directions. Someone knocked me in the head, causing my hair to spill out from the tight bun and fall over my face, temporarily blinding me. I fell to the sidewalk, cracking my elbow on the hard cement and stars swam in front of my eyes from the pain.
“Please,” I pleaded again, my voice small from terror. I tried to yell louder, hoping someone in one of the many small, dilapidated bungalows lining the street would hear and come to my aid, but my tight throat squeezed off any sound I would have made.
There was a sudden bang and my assailants flinched, some of them starting to run. I rocketed upright, the quick movement making me lightheaded, and I lowered my head until the dizziness passed. Pressing my hands to my ears, which ached from the loud explosive noise, I peeked around the wall of legs of those still in front of me and a surge of hope flooded me. Once again, my savior was coming to my defense, and relief mixed with elation almost had me smiling despite the situation. Maybe I’d found a compassionate heart after all.
~ Danny ~
Terrell chuckled when he spotted me.
“Damn, D. You scared the shit out of me.”
“That was the point.” I stuffed the gun back into the waistband of my jeans and covered the grip with my shirt.
When I’d come around the corner and spotted Terrell’s gang, I’d retreated, not wanting to be noticed as we weren’t on the best of ter
ms, but when the flash of blonde hair had glistened in the sun, I’d known instantly who was in the middle of the pack. My heart had stopped, and before I realized what I was doing, I was rushing over as I pulled out my gun. I had to get them away from her or she wasn’t going home in one piece tonight, if she went home at all.
Even though I wanted to forget this girl, I couldn’t stop thinking about her, wondering and hoping she was okay. A couple of times, I smelled her soft, powdery scent and turned, thinking she was there, but there was no one. At night, her big green eyes often starred in my dreams, making me curious to learn more about her. Things would be better for her if she had nothing to do with me, but fate appeared to have different plans. Everywhere I turned, I crossed paths with her.
I strode over and pulled her to her feet, passing a critical gaze over her to assess the damages. There was no sign of blood or injury, only the stark fear shining brightly in those beautiful eyes, along with her pale complexion, which made my pulse quicken and my blood pound through my veins.
I nudged her behind me and stood facing the group, my hands fisted at my sides. “Leave her alone, Terrell.”
Darkness gleamed in Terrell’s eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry, dawg. I didn’t realize this was your lady.”
“Just back the fuck off.” I stared at each one of them, ensuring they all got the message. I wasn’t fucking around.
Terrell stood in front of me, toe to toe. “I think you better watch your tone there, white boy.”
I matched his glare, not backing down. “I said, back the fuck off, punk.”
Terrell’s crew held their collective breath, waiting on his next move. He continued to glower at me. I heard his unspoken threat, but it didn’t matter. I wasn’t budging.
He snorted and stepped back. “All right, all right. I see how it is. Always playing the fucking hero.”