I needed peace. I needed happiness. Mom would’ve loved for me to find some sort of satisfaction in life, and I would do anything to see a smile on Mom’s face, so before Rosemarie disappeared, I yelled after her, clutching my guitar and rushing in her direction.
She stopped rapidly, spinning around. I met up to her and then took a deep breath, looking her over. I can do this. I can do this…. Right?
“Uh… so that dinner and a movie? Would you like to… you know, with me?” I asked, hesitant.
Her face was stale and emotionless, and at that exact moment, I panicked. I knew I shouldn’t have asked. I just fucking knew it. What the hell would she want with me, a tattooed freak with hair I refused to cut and a guitar I called my best friend? What the hell would she want with me, a loner? A fuck-up? A selfish lunatic?
Just as I thought about saying never mind and running off to hide at home, a smile spread across those beautiful lips, and she took a step toward me. She smelled like sweat and vanilla, and it smelled fucking divine. I wanted to lick her all over. I didn’t care if she’d just ran a mile or if she hadn’t showered yet. She looked like she tasted sweet and delicious… everywhere. Damn, I wanted a taste of her.
“I’d love to, Roy Sykes,” she said, right before kissing my cheek, grinning broadly, and taking a step back. My eyes expanded as she asked for my cell phone. I fished it out my back pocket, speechlessly handing it to her, and she plugged her number in. As soon as she handed my phone back, she said, “Call me tonight. We’ll make arrangements.”
She spun around, ran off, and smiled over her shoulder. I returned a faint smile, clutching my phone in hand, and as soon as she looked away, I watched her perfect ass jiggle as she ran down the path. I didn’t bother moving an inch until she was completely out of sight.
Holy. Fuck.
Stepping into our cramped up, one-bedroom apartment, I shut the door behind me, placed my guitar in the corner, and plopped down on the beat up brown sofa.
Without a doubt, our home was shitty, and I always made fun of it whenever one of the boys stopped by, but only to make it seem like I didn’t care much about how it looked. I was ashamed of the place, yeah, but it was my home. Although there was a leaky roof, the linoleum in the kitchen was peeling, and I saw a rat or two scurrying about at least once a week, it was good to me. To us. Mom spent all the money she had on this place, and the chunk I made weekly went into rent. I admit, my way of making that chunk wasn’t cool. Not at all. I hated what I did, but I had to do what I had to do in order to survive.
Standing from the sofa, I made my way to the kitchen and started one of the burners on the stove. I grabbed the cheese, bread, and butter and went with making a grilled cheese sandwich. Surprisingly, as I made the sandwich, Rosemarie was heavy on my mind, and I couldn’t seem to shake her for the life of me.
That body.
Those lips.
Her voice.
It was all stuck in my head.
I flipped my sandwich with the spatula, considering myself an idiot. What was I thinking, asking her out on a date? She didn’t need me around… but I just couldn’t let her get away. The girl was hot, and she seemed to have it all together. She seemed smart. I loved a woman with brains.
I devoured my sandwich, scrubbed out my pan, and placed it in the dishwasher. I made my way to my room which consisted of a mattress in the far right corner, a basket full of my clothes, and a closet with my guitars and amps. I sighed, stripping down to my boxers and lounging on the bed.
But then, it hit me. She told me to call her.
I perked up and scrambled through my jeans. As soon as I pulled my phone out and searched for her number, my heart almost stopped. Why the fuck was I so nervous? I really had no clue at all. I did this shit all the time, but I guess this was different. The only time I’d call a girl was to meet up and bone her. But with this girl—Rosemarie—I was making real arrangements, and quite frankly, it freaked me the hell out.
I allowed my balls to drop, though. I pressed the call button, and it rang in my ear. I think my heartbeat was louder than the reverberating telephone toll. She answered after the third ring.
“Hello?” she chimed into the phone.
“Uh... What’s up?” Playing it cool was never my thing.
She giggled. “Roy Sykes, right?”
I laughed a little, but I couldn’t ignore the knot forming in the pit of my stomach when she asked. “Were you expecting someone else?”
“No.” She said it simply, but I could hear the smile in her voice. She was teasing me.
I laughed again. “I mean, you’re pretty hot.... And we just met. Right? There could be plenty of other guys calling other than me.”
“Yes. True. But I’m just messing with you.”
“I know.”
Silence. Yeah, that shit was fucking awkward. I didn’t talk much, but I went with it anyway. “So, how about the burger joint downtown and Regal Cinemas afterward? Friday?”
She laughed. “Yeah. That’d be great. What time will you be picking me up?”
I paused then, and at that moment, I wanted to say fuck it and hang up. I had no fucking car. I didn’t have shit but my own two feet to take me places. I was quiet longer than I thought I was because she cleared her throat and asked if I’d heard her. Yeah, I heard her. I heard every word.
“I’ll pick you up around six-thirty.” Stupid!
“Six-thirty sounds great, Roy.”
I found it weird that my heart sped up a notch as she said my name. “Great. It was… uh… nice meeting and talking to you, Rosemarie.”
“Same here. It was great meeting you today. You play a mean guitar.”
I smiled a little. “Thanks.” I raked my fingers through my hair. “So… I’ll call you Friday afternoon then, when I’m on my way?”
“Sounds great. Goodnight, Roy.”
“Night.”
I hung up and blew out a breath. Why the hell I was holding my breath, I didn’t know. But I did know I was screwed because I didn’t have a car to take her on this date. Mom didn’t have a car, either. I thought about canceling—just giving it all up—but I knew to make a way somehow. In the back of my mind, I knew there probably was no way.
My phone rang, startling me as I was about to lie down again. As I looked at the screen, my pulse paused.
Corey.
I hated when he called. I hated him period. I ignored the call, but he called back. I ignored it again, but it rang once more, and I cursed beneath my breath, standing to my feet. I knew not to piss him off. He was the wrong person to piss off, and if he had to, he would show up at my doorstep just to get some sort of response from me.
“Yeah?”
“Where the fuck are you?” Corey barked into the phone.
“Home. Where else?”
“I need you to get to my place. Right now. Got some shit I need delivered, and everybody else is already out. Be here in ten.”
He hung up before I could even respond.
I sighed out, tugging my jeans over my legs and slipping back into my black tee. I slid my boots on, flipped my hair out of my eyes, and headed out of the apartment, locking it behind me.
I arrived at Corey’s a little after ten minutes, and of course, he was pissed. What the fuck did he expect? For me to run? I didn’t run for or from anybody—nobody but the cops anyway.
“Fucking late as always,” Corey muttered, slamming a bulky brown paper bag on the table.
“The walk from my house to yours is about fifteen minutes,” I said, sliding my fingers in my back pockets. “There’s no way I could make it in ten. I don’t have a car.”
“Then you fucking run here!” he shouted. “Buy a bike or some shit.”
I pressed my lips, looking away. I had to bite my tongue real hard with Corey, and I hated that shit. I hated how he ran me like a dog—thought he could do whatever the fuck he wanted with me. I guess since I joined this shit, I was considered one of his pets. And there was no way out of it.
Once you’re in, you’re in.
Corey had dark skin and dark brown eyes. He was claimed to be the “King” of all things drug-wise in Suffolk. He was buff, with thick arms and legs, smothered with tattoos, and wore the best Jordan’s and Nikes he could find. He smoked cigarettes but swore he’d never touched an illegal drug in his life. I didn’t believe that shit. This man was fucking crazy… and he sniffled and wiped his nose a lot whenever I was around. The whores he had running around his house did it, why wouldn’t he?
Gripping his thick fingers around the bag, Corey slid it across his desk, looking at me beneath his eyelashes. He was an eerie motherfucker. He scared the living fuck out of me sometimes.
“Take this shit up to the white house. They’re expecting it by eight.”
“Am I free to go home after this, or are you just gonna trap me here again?” I was being a smart ass, but I knew when not to cross the line.
He looked me over with a scowl. “You leave when I fucking tell you to leave. Matter of fact, as soon as you drop that shit off, bring your ass back here.” He turned around and grabbed a cigarette. “Don’t fucking question me, Sykes. I let you have your little freedom with your band earlier today, but keep testing my limits and I’ll be sure you don’t see your band for weeks. You’ll be saying bye-bye to that weak ass guitar of yours.”
I swallowed, but concealed my emotions. He knew the band and my guitar were weaknesses of mine. Every time he brought it up, it made me shut up and move the hell on. And I did just that.
“I’ll be back,” I muttered, turning on the heel of my boots and stepping out his office.
As soon as I was out the door and down his porch stairs, I cursed beneath my breath and kicked one of the cars sitting in the driveway. I didn’t know whose car it was, but the alarm went off, and I cursed beneath my breath again before pacing forward and disappearing in the night.
The only reason I was doing this for him was so I could pay the rent and the hospital bills. I had a part-time job at Steele’s bar, but I was only listed on the schedule twice a week… maybe less than that. The place was never that busy until weekends. I didn’t want the clinic to kick Mom out just because we didn’t have enough money. I told her I’d make a way, and I was doing just that. Making a way. No matter what I kind of shit I had to go through.
Only for Mom. Only for my fucking mother.
I arrived at Corey’s thirty minutes after I dropped off the block of cocaine he had me deliver. It was never safe for me to carry shit like that around. I was almost caught a few times because of it. Good thing I was a fast runner.
Nearing the driveway, I noticed more cars now than there were when I first came by. Loud music filled the inky, cool night, and I sighed, stopping and taking a look at the brick house before me. Another fucking party… one I really wasn’t up for tonight. I hated the parties he threw.
Gripping the doorknob and stepping inside, the first thing I noticed were the clouds of smoke filling the room. There was a mixed scent of cigarettes and marijuana. The marijuana didn’t bother me much… it was the cigarettes that ticked me off. I couldn’t stay here. One: I had to pick Mom up early in the morning, and two: I really didn’t want to be in this fucking house.
As I walked by, a few girls slid their hands down my chest. One of them grabbed my hand and reeled me into her. Her eyes were low and glassy. Her lips were overly glossed. She grinned up at me, locking her boney fingers around my arm.
“You’re that Sykes kid, right?” she asked. She started shimmying to the music. I tried pulling away, but she wasn’t having it. “Hey… why don’t you ever hang out with any of us girls? I never see you with anybody. See my friend over there?” She looked over her shoulder and pointed to a girl dancing between two guys. Her head was thrown back, her brunette hair locked in the hands of the dark, hefty guy behind her. “She’s into you. She wants to suck your cock. I bet it’s big.” I grimaced and yanked away, rougher this time. The girl burst out laughing and stepped back with a shrug. “Suit yourself, Roy Sykes. One of us will get you one day… especially if you keep coming here.”
“What the fuck ever,” I muttered, stepping past her. It took me a while to find Corey. I could’ve bailed, but he would’ve noticed me not coming back with his money and the last thing I ever wanted to do in my life was fuck with Corey Hoard’s money. He’d kill a man over twenty bucks, just to prove to people he didn’t take stealing his money lightly.
Corey was on the back patio sitting on the bench against the far wall with three girls on his lap. All of them were kissing him in different areas while he counted a stack of money in hand. Corey spotted me, and that eerie-ass grin appeared on his face again. It was worse this time because it was dark out.
“Sykes! Get yo’ ass over here!” he yelled. A few girls whipped their heads to look at me. I ignored them. I sat in the chair closest to him and handed him his enveloped money. As I rose to my feet, his large hand gripped my shoulder, and he roughly forced me back down. I met his dark eyes, and he shook his head, licking his top row of teeth. “You know the rules. I make sure all my money is here, and then you can go.”
“What the hell would I want with your money?” I asked, shaking my head. This was un-fucking-believable.
“There are motherfuckers here who would do anything for my money. What makes you an exception?” I held my tongue and watched him count his stack. When he nodded and put all his money back in his envelope, he looked at me and gave another smile. “So what’s the rush?” he asked.
“I’ve just had a long day.” I pushed my hand through my hair. “Just wanna get home and rest. I gotta pick up my mom from the hospital in the morning.”
“Is that right?” he asked, pushing two of the girls aside to spark his cigarette. They whined a little, stood, and walked away. “What she got? Ain’t she sick or some shit?”
I clenched my fists. “Yes,” I said through clamped teeth. I hated his careless demeanor. “With Aids.”
“Oh… alright, alright. I don’t fuck around when it comes to people’s Moms. Just stick by your phone tomorrow afternoon. I got a big shipment coming in, and I need a few people to separate, bundle, and deliver.”
Sighing and burying my fingers in my front pockets, I nodded and turned for the patio door. I could feel Corey watching me as I walked away, and a chill ran down my spine. No one could really get under my skin the way he could. I guess because a part of me knew if ever I got on his bad side, the rest of my life would be ruined. I wouldn’t have any freedom. I’d live the rest of my life in fear, knowing he was after me.
Although I hated doing what I did, in my situation it was necessary. No other place around would hire me—because of my appearance, that is. The tattoos, the long hair and my odd looks. The only reason I had a spot at Steele’s was because we performed for them, and the owner, Jack Steele, felt like he owed each of us something in return for bringing customers in every weekend. Most people in Suffolk were discouraged of tattoos and long hair. It really didn’t make any sense to me, but whatever. I wasn’t about to change my look for minimum wage. At least Corey paid me pretty good, enough to keep a roof over my head. When someone else—a real job—hired me, then I could drop this shit with Corey… at least I hoped.
I hardly caught any sleep. I was too worried about Mom, but seeing her as she walked through the doors made all my worries fade.
“Roy,” she whispered, clasping my face, leaning up, and kissing my cheek. Her lips were cold, but I ignored the chill and embraced the warmth of her hug. I was glad to have her with me. Wrapping my arms around her, I pulled her close and held onto her. She felt skinnier… bonier.
“Hey Mom,” I said, pulling back. “Ready to head home?”
“As ever.” She placed her hand in mine, and I led her out the door. As we came to the bus stop, she let out a cough and then smiled up at me. “I hope the apartment is clean.”
“It’s as clean as it was when you left. I can assure that,” I laughed.
Lau
ghing, Mom pulled her hand out of mine and sat on the bench behind us. I sat with her, taking off my jacket and placing it over her shoulders. She was already wearing a coat, but it was chilly out. “I have something to tell you,” I said, sitting back and folding my arms.
“What’s that, sweetie?”
“I’ve got a date Friday.”
“Yeah?!” she exclaimed. Her face was brighter. Her smile was wide, and her teeth were straight. A few people told me she and I had the same smile. “That’s great sweetie!”
“Yeah… but there’s one little problem.”
Her eyebrows stitched. “What might that be?”
“I told her I would take her downtown… but you and I both know I don’t have a car to take her in.”
She twisted her lips. “Well… why don’t you just do what you’re doing now? Take her on the bus.”
I shook my head and laughed a little. Draping my arm across her shoulders, I pulled her into me and smiled down at her. “Mom… she’s worth more than a bus ride.”
She nodded, pressing her lips. “Well… what about Delray. He has a car, and from what you’ve told me, he owes you a ton of favors. Maybe all those favors can add up to this big one.”
I smacked my teeth. She was really out of her mind now. “Montana would slap me senseless if I even bothered to ask. Ever since he got it, that Mustang is all he ever talks about—”
“Montana wouldn’t even have that Mustang if it weren’t for you,” she interrupted.
My lips sealed. I had nothing to say to that. She was right.
Montana and I were out at a party one night. Unfortunately, we weren’t fast enough, ended up at a dead end, and got caught. Montana had marijuana on him and knew if he was to go to jail for it, his mom wasn’t going to give him shit for his birthday, and she was going to kick him out. No car. No new guitar. No money. Nothing for him. I figured he had more to lose than I did, so I took the blame. I knew how much he wanted that car, and I knew how much he didn’t want to disappoint his mom. The cops didn’t find any weed in my system, so I was free to go the same night, but I did get a huge fine for pocketing it. It was my first offense, but they didn’t let it slip by because I had so much of it. They assumed I was a drug dealer.
Who I Am (FireNine) Page 2