"Hey, Shemeya." Sam, a fellow senior that hadn't talked to her since freshman year, walked beside her. His grin revealed a mouth full of gold caps. "You want to meet up later?"
"No," she said. "Why would I want to do that? I hardly know you."
"Well, I heard you were down for anything, and I wanted to know if you wanted to hook up later."
She stopped. "Who told you that?"
"Everybody knows about what happened between you and Sean. So, what's up? You want to hook up?" he said, grabbing his crotch.
"Eww. No."
Sam seized her hand and placed a piece of paper in her palm. "Here's my number. Call me if you change your mind. I've always wondered what it would be like to pull on those dreads."
Shemeya's mouth fell open, and she threw the paper into his face. Before she could curse him out, someone pushed her from behind. Her hands broke her fall as she went crashing to the floor. Embarrassed and uncomfortably aware of everyone in the hallway staring at her, she looked up.
Latreece stood above her, lips pressed and shoulders back. "Watch where you're going, Medusa."
"What's going on?" asked Mrs. Smith, the tenth-grade social studies teacher, who thankfully, had been passing by.
"I'm sorry. That was an accident." Latreece sneered at Shemeya before she turned and blended back into the crowd of students.
Mrs. Smith bent down and helped Shemeya pick up her bag. "Are you okay? I can report her to the office, she glanced down the hallway. "That didn't look like an accident."
"I'm all right." Shemeya forced herself to stop trembling and hurriedly walked in the opposite direction of Latreece and her first-hour class.
She managed to avoid Latreece for the rest of the day, but she had been tripped, jabbed, and propositioned by half of the school.
Through all of the taunting, she'd kept her head high and her face straight. But the quiet walk through her apartment complex destroyed the flimsy barrier she'd built during school. Tears streamed uncontrollably down her cheeks. She tried to wipe them away, but more quickly took their place.
As she turned towards her apartment, she kept her head low, hoping no one would see her crying. She lifted her head to gauge her location and noticed Jade. The woman stood in the same spot as yesterday, staring at Shemeya intensely.
She stopped and wiped her face with her shirt sleeve. "How can you help me?"
A slow grin crept across Jade's face.
She followed Jade through the living room, past Coal asleep on the couch, and into the master bedroom. All of the three-bedroom apartments were the same. This would have been her mother's room, but there was no bed, and plants were everywhere. Dozens of plants: potted plants, hanging plants, creeping plants. Even though she'd taken botany for two years, Shemeya couldn't name any of them.
Two windows filled the east side of the room, but hundreds of vines had crept up the wall, and in their greed, had blocked most of the sunlight.
"What is all of this?" Shemeya asked. The moisture in the air clung to her skin and sank into her chest, making it hard to breathe.
"These are my other babies," Jade said in the same affectionate tone she used when she spoke about her son. She walked through the labyrinth of plants and stopped at a table on the far side of the room, barely visible through the foliage. On it lay a pestle and mortar, and inside the mortar, Shemeya saw something amazingly similar to . . .
"Is that weed?" Shemeya gasped. "You grow pot?" She looked towards the door expecting to see the police. The last thing she needed was to get caught in a drug dealer's house.
Jade laughed as she pulled a leaf from a plant with green and purple leaves. "This is much better than weed. It's from my homeland. And, most importantly, it's not illegal here."
"Oh," Shemeya said, a little disappointed. She hadn't wanted to get caught with a drug dealer, but she wasn't opposed to smoking a little bit of weed though.
"Where are you from?" Shemeya asked.
"No place you've heard of."
"I'm not stupid. I got an A in geography-- Ow." Shemeya shrieked in response to Jade yanking one of her locs. "You almost pulled out a dread."
"For it to work for you, it needs a bit of you in it." Jade held the hair in front of her face. "These five strands should be enough." She placed them into the mortar and started grinding it into the marble bowl with the leaves.
Shemeya rubbed her head while she watched the hair became indistinguishable from the other ingredients. "Is this voodoo?"
"No. This isn't voodoo." Jade ground the mixture faster, causing the pestle to clang loudly against the marble bowl.
"Then what is it? My mom would kill me if she knew I was messing around with voodoo."
"It's an herbal medicine. When you receive blood, the doctors have to make sure they match your blood type, right? Well, adding your hair makes the herbs specific for you. Like recognizes like."
"But what does it do? Will it get me high?"
"It will give you courage and confidence, but it will not get you high."
Disappointed, Shemeya watched Jade roll the herbs inside a small sheet of paper. "It looks just like a joint to me."
"It is not a joint," Jade said sharply, handing it to Shemeya. "Smoke it here so I know I haven't wasted my time."
Shemeya studied the fake joint. She should have walked right past this place and left Crazy Jade to her craziness. But after the day she'd endured, she couldn't tolerate the thought of going back to school. Maybe, just maybe, smoking this would make it all go way. Besides, what would some herbs hurt?
"Okay." Shemeya placed the tip of the faux joint into her mouth, and Jade lit it.
Shemeya inhaled. The smoke traveled through her mouth, down her throat, and settled in her lungs for a few intense moments before Shemeya exhaled. "Dang, that's nasty." But the taste didn't stop her from bringing it back to her lips and inhaling once again.
Shemeya knocked on Jason's door. For the past three years, they'd ended up in the same chemistry course as lab partners. He'd asked her out a few times, but she'd politely said no. He was smart and decent looking, but he bored her. Turning him down made her feel like an idiot who only dated thugs, but she wasn't stupid. She only wanted a little thug, not a full serving.
When Jason answered the door, she pulled off her backpack and stepped into the house. "Is your mom home?"
"No, she's with her new guy," he said, leading her into his kitchen. "Want something to drink?"
"You got some juice?" Shemeya desperately wanted to wash away the dry, earthy taste the herbs had left in her mouth. Water hadn't worked.
"I got something better." He reached under one of the kitchen cabinets and pulled out a bottle of Hennessey.
"Jason, really?" She cocked her head to the side, and he smiled innocently.
She rolled her eyes. "Sure. I need a drink after the day I've had." And liquor should kill the taste in my mouth.
He poured the cognac into two yellow Solo plastic cups before they walked into the living room and sat on the couch.
She only took a small sip, but it was enough to warm her from the inside out and sear away the taste of the herbs.
"We should be talking about absorption, not sitting here getting drunk," Shemeya pointed out, setting the cup on the living room table.
"We always finish our projects tipsy. Why should this time be any different?"
Shemeya laughed, remembering all of the late night homework sessions they'd had in the past. They didn't talk much in school, but she enjoyed hanging out with him. He was funny and thoughtful when he didn't have a group of other people around him. "Anyways, let's get started: absorption vs. adsorption." She pulled her chemistry book from her bag.
"Stupid names. Why do they have to be so similar?" He sat back on the couch with a glazed look in his eyes.
"Are you going to get your books?"
He licked his lips and leaned forward. "I've heard stories about you and Latreece's boyfriend."
"So?" The small buzz s
he had from the liquor quickly dissipated while her heart raced. She dreaded where the conversation was headed.
"I don't understand. I've been asking you out for months, but you go out with him instead. He has a girlfriend."
"I didn't go out with him," she said through clenched teeth. She'd expected to be harassed at school; she hadn't expected it here. She had hoped her anger would shut him up, but no such luck.
"I saw you go in the room with Sean last weekend at Serena's party."
She threw her books on the table and stood. "Jason. Really?"
"I've treated you with nothing but respect since I've known you."
"I've had a horrible day with everyone teasing me at school. I get here and have to deal with it from you, too. Forget you. I'm leaving." She turned from him and bent over to pick up her books.
"Are you crying?"
She brought her hand up to her face, it came back wet. Why was she crying in front of him? Wasn't the fake weed supposed to give her courage?
"Don't go. I'm sorry."
She was so busy wiping away her tears that she didn't fight it when he grabbed her hand and pulled her back onto the couch. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."
She let him hold her as she cried. Maybe it was the liquor, maybe it was the fake weed, or maybe it was her loneliness, but whatever the reason she didn't stop him when he brought his lips down onto hers.
His sweaty hands on her breast brought her back to reality. He wasn't who she wanted. "No, Jason." She pulled back. "I have to go."
"Don't go," he pleaded, with his hand still under her shirt.
Somehow they'd ended up on the couch with him on top and straddled between her legs.
"No." She tried to move from under him.
He loomed above her, flushed despite his dark skin. "Do you like it rough? Is that what it is?"
"No. This isn't what I came here for." When pushing didn't move him, Shemeya punched his shoulders and chest, but he refused to budge.
He kissed her neck. "I'm tired of being the nice guy," he whispered in her ear, pinning her further beneath his body.
"Get off me!" she screamed. His erection rubbed against the crotch of her jeans. She punched at his back and, but it only made him more excited. Her scalp itched as she fought. She wanted to scratch it, but she needed both hands to fight Jason. I'm getting raped, but I can't resist the urge to scratch. The inconvenience of it almost made her laugh.
Something above moved. She looked past Jason. Five snakes hovered above his head.
I'm going crazy, she thought. This time she did laugh, and the snakes, which were the same rusty brown color as her dreads, returned her smile.
The itching had been replaced with pleasurable tingles that ran from her head down to her toes.
He must have sensed a change because Jason paused and looked towards her. "Why are you laughing?" His gaze darted above her head. The feel of his erection disappeared as he moved away, but she wrapped her legs around his waist.
"Where are you going?" Shemeya asked.
"We need to leave," he said, trembling. "There are snakes in here. There are snakes in your hair." She pulled him closer while he fought to be released. "Let go. We need to get out of here!"
"No, stay," she whispered in his ear. "They won't hurt you."
Shaking and wide-eyed, he looked from Shemeya to the snakes. He tried to move away. This time when she attempted to pull him closer, he punched her. Pain exploded in her jaw, but she didn't let go.
"Jason, that hurt."
He looked into her eyes. "Please," he begged just as a snake sunk its fangs into his cheek. Another struck his ear. One clung to his nose. And another hung below his left eye. He screamed and writhed in pain as he tried to escape the snakes and Shemeya's thighs. His pleading dark-brown eyes focused on her before finally, he stopped moving altogether. The snakes retracted their fangs. She relaxed her legs. And Jason fell onto the carpeted floor.
She stood and nearly fainted before she righted herself by grabbing the side of the couch. She brought her hands up to fix her hair but hesitated a few inches away. She'd never touched snakes before. But the snakes came to her, caressing her open palm. They were cold, smooth, and full of life.
The next day, Shemeya stared in the bathroom mirror at a large, imposing bruise on her jaw. The blue and purple mark contrasted sharply with her brown skin. While trying to ignore the pain, she brushed her teeth. She had no idea how she got home yesterday. All she remembered was fighting off Jason and having some type of hallucination about snakes. No, the herb didn't get her high, but it sure as hell made her delusional.
Shemeya covered her bruised jaw with foundation before she braided her dreads in an intricate twist that fell down her back. I look good, she thought as she admired herself in the mirror.
Her mom popped her head into the bathroom. "I'm passing your school on the way to a patient's house, you want a ride?"
"Yes!" Shemeya exclaimed, relieved she wouldn't have to see Jason or Latreece on either bus.
"Hurry up. I'm leaving in five minutes."
Shemeya appreciated herself in the mirror one last time before she walked out.
As she pulled in front of the school, Mary turned in her seat, "I want to talk to you." Her usual confidence wavered a bit, which told Shemeya she wouldn't like what her mother was about to say.
"What's wrong?" Shemeya asked.
"I've been hearing stories about Jade messing in voodoo, witchcraft, and miracle cures. I don't know what's going on, but I don't want you going near her."
Too late for that, Shemeya thought. "She's crazy, but Coal is pretty normal."
"Stay away from Jade," her mom reiterated, "and Coal."
Shemeya lifted an eyebrow and let out a deep breath. "Okay." That wouldn't be a problem after she had me smoke those crazy herbs.
"Well, good," Mary said, sounding as if she had been expecting a bigger fight.
"By the way, you look pretty," Mary said as Shemeya opened her car door and stepped out. "Those dreads are looking nice."
Shemeya furrowed her brow and touched her hair. No snakes. "Thank you."
"Maybe I'll grow me some. I'm tired of messin' with those damn relaxers."
As Mary drove away, Shemeya stood in front of the school gaping. Her mother had never complimented her dreads. Never.
Shemeya sat in her third hour chemistry class, pretending to study the course notes from yesterday. No one had pushed, groped, or called her names. Her mother, who had never approved of her hair, had even given her a compliment. She'd been taught dreads were unnatural and dirty. But once started, they naturally locked on their own. And, unlike when she had a relaxer, she could wash them as much as she wanted without messing it up.
She gnawed on her pencil and smiled. Maybe the herbs had worked. She felt strong, confident and beautiful. Now, if she could only get out of seeing Jason. His seat was empty. Maybe he'd skip today and save both of them the embarrassment of having to deal with what happened last night. She could barely remember any of it, but the throbbing in her jaw wasn't reassuring.
"I'm sorry to hear about your lab partner." Jasmine, an advanced placement sophomore, stood beside Shemeya's lab table. She grinned then quickly frowned as if she remembered that what she was about to say was bad news
"What are you talking about?" Shemeya asked, staring up at Jasmine's shiny metal braces.
"He was sent to the hospital last night from not one but five snake bites." She stopped for a breath and licked her braces. "They were poisonous, and the doctors aren't sure if he'll live. If it were just one or two bites, maybe he'd be okay, but I don't see how anyone can survive five snake bites."
Shemeya's chest tightened. "How do you know this?"
"It was on the news. They didn't release his name, but I live down the street from him. I saw the ambulance and the news trucks last night at his house."
Damn! Shameya's eyes widened, and her mouth fell open as she remembered the hallucination from l
ast night. Without another word, Shemeya stood, pushed past Jasmine and ran out of the classroom and into the girl's bathroom. She took down her braid and ran her fingers through her dreads and along her scalp.
Nothing lived in her hair.
Her dreads were not alive.
Whatever had happened to Jason had nothing to do with her.
Nothing.
Relieved and thoroughly convinced she possessed dreads instead of snakes, Shemeya stepped into the hallway. However, her relief was short lived.
Latreece stood outside the bathroom. She looked like she was skipping volleyball practice because she wore a pair of too short, too-tight gym shorts that highlighted her tall skinny legs. Her cousins and a small group of students wearing the same gym uniform surrounded her.
Latreece separated herself from the crowd. "I've been looking for you."
Damn Latreece and her grudges! Shemeya looked for an escape. She needed a way to leave without looking like a punk. "I'm not in the mood to deal with you right now, Latreece." Shemeya tried to push Latreece to the side, but she grabbed Shemeya's arm and pulled her back.
"No, we're dealing with this now." Latreece swung her fist and hit Shemeya in the eye.
Shemeya fell to the floor. Flashes of light exploded across her closed eyelids. She had no idea that bag of bones could hit so hard. Before she could recover, Latreece hopped on top of her and began pummeling Shemeya's face.
Shemeya's scalp started to itch.
The same itch she'd had when she'd been fighting Jason. Damn, it hadn't been a hallucination! The itching increased, eclipsing the pain from Latreece's punches. She needed to get out of there before the entire school saw her.
Taking a deep breath, she used her body weight to roll over. Latreece tumbled to the ground. Shemeya hurried to her feet, and she ran through the crowd and down the hallway as fast as she could.
The snakes hissed as she rushed away, sending tingles through her body. Desperate, she ran into to an empty classroom, switched off the lights, and hid in a closet at the back of the room. Everything had been fine up until that bitch had attacked her. Mind racing, she realized the same thing had happened with Jason. She was fine until he tried to rape her. The snakes must be connected with her anger.
Legends of the Damned: A Collection of Edgy Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels Page 167