The next day at detention, Brody puts his head close to mine and says. “Wanna see something interesting?”
“You got a tattoo of my name?”
He frowns. “No, I hate needles. But I’ve got a present for you.”
“Oh, okay.” I close my eyes and put out my hand. When I open them again, I gasp. “Holy crap, Brody McGraw! This is a fucking joint!”
With a smile, he motions me towards the window where he lights up, drags on it and hands it to me. We share it, Timothy, Brody, another chick called Eileen who joined us for detention, and I.
“I can get plenty of this,” Timothy brags. “Tomorrow, I will bring a joint.”
“You do that,” Brody says.
“I can do better,” Eileen boasts. “I can bring Vodka.”
“Vodka!” I exclaim.” Wow!”
She nods. “My stepdad has an amazing bar.”
“You do that, then,” I say.
I look at Brody. “So, Aubergine, heard you want to become President of the USA one day?”
“Huh huh.”
“Okay, so when you become president, you gonna legalize weed or what?”
“No way!”
“That’s it, you’re not getting my vote.”
He laughs.
“Mine neither,” Timothy and Eileen chorus.
The following day, as promised, Timothy brings in a joint and Eileen brings in the Vodka and we have fun with both.
But we get careless. Mrs. Tyson barges in and catches us with the joint. “What in HELL’S name are you kids up to?!” she yells, with both hands on her childbearing hips.
I quickly move the vodka bottle out of sight. Shit! This is grounds for expulsion. Nobody moves, nobody says a word.
Her sharp eyes scan the room before it lands on Brody who has the lit joint in his hand. “Give me that!” she says and snatches the joint out of Brody’s fingers.
No fight from him.
I hold my breath. Expulsion – that’s all I can think of. I get so scared.
“Mrs. Tyson,” Brody says, “Would you like a drink?”
Our heads jerk to look at him. Is he nuts?
To our horror, he brings out the half empty bottle of vodka.
Mrs. Tyson narrows her eyes at him. “You trying to bribe me, boy?” She’s still got the joint in her hand.
He shakes his head. “No ma’am. You look tired. I’m sure you worked hard and …it’s almost time to end the day. I reckon we need to cut you slack, ma’am and offer you a drink. That’s all.”
She glares at him.
Shit.
Brody appears undaunted and holds up his thumb and forefinger, a narrow gap between them.
Mrs. Tyson appears mesmerized with the bottle of vodka.
Without waiting for an answer, Brody takes a disposable cup, pours a double and holds it out to her.
I hold my breath.
To my absolute surprise, Mrs. Tyson accepts it and shoots it. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and nods.
I furiously motion to Timothy to video this and he does.
With a smile, Brody sits down and relaxes into his chair.
Mrs. Tyson sits down and puts the joint to her mouth.
We all exchange shocked looks, before we all smile.
Brody takes the bottle and pours her another. Without a word, she drinks that too, then puts the joint to her lips.
“Afghan?” she asks, before inhaling deeply, her eyes watering.
Brody nods. “Yes ma’am.”
She bobs her head several times. “Good … shiiiiit.”
Then, she gets really quiet and sits with her head bowed. Feet firmly on the ground, but head hung. We exchange uncertain glances, questioning shrugs, until we finally continue our shit. It’s like she’s not in the room with us.
Of course we continue filming her – our little insurance against her getting any ideas – like telling all to Mr Palmer, our principal.
As we leave detention, I make a decision to put an end to the drinking and smoking at school. Can’t afford to get kicked out of school.
Later on that night, Hawk gives me a tongue lashing. “Burn, you are compromising the gift with your drinking and your smoking of illegal substances and yadda, yadda, yadda, yadda…”
“C’mon, Hawk,” I say. “I’m young and like, I’m just having fun. How am I hurting anyone?”
“You need to be more responsible, Burn.”
“Hawk, look, I am a mother right now. I have all the responsibilities of one and I ain’t complaining; I’m just saying, cut me some slack, man. Compared to my friends, I have a really hard life, you know. I never get to be a regular teenager. I’m always having to be an adult. Been one since I was thirteen, Hawk. Now I get this gift – added responsibility. I never asked for it, I just got it. It’s a kinda noose around my neck. I’m not saying I won’t do my bit, I will. But give me a chance to be what I’m supposed to be – a normal teenager. ”
Hawk scratches the back of his neck and looks at the ground.
“She’s right,” Erro says. “She goes to school, comes home, takes care of her sister, takes care of the home, does homework, takes care of her slutty aunt and then goes to work and works till ten most evenings. That’s a lot for a youngster. And, she never complains.”
I spin around to look at Erro, surprised by her observation. “Thank you, Erro,” I mutter, tears filling my eyes. “I really appreciate it.”
She nods.
For the first time since my parents died, I feel sorry for myself and tears course down my cheeks.
Tears for all the times I felt overwhelmed with responsibility, for all the times I felt exhausted from all the cleaning and washing, for all the times I didn’t know what to do when I watched Angel look longingly at families with both mom and dads, for all the times I felt helpless and wished I had someone to show me the way and to shoulder the burden, and for all the times I lived in fear of Social Services taking Angel away. Scalding tears slide down my cheeks and collect under my chin.
“Well, let’s eh, let’s talk more about this another time,” Hawk says. “Get some rest, Burn.”
His sympathetic voice makes me cry harder.
Life has been so hard. I envy my friends who have moms and dads and who have no idea how easy they have it.
****
“May I borrow your lighter?” Brody asks. For a fellow pothead, he sure has good manners.
“No.”
“NO?!” He looks at me, surprise all over his face.
I shake my head. “No.”
“Why …not?”
I put down my pen and sigh. “See now, if I lend you my lighter, Aubergine, then you’re gonna be so grateful that you ask me out on Friday night. Then I will say yes and then you will fall for me and then you’ll wanna date me and marry me ...”
“Whaaaat?”
“… and then we’ll have 2.5 children and a dog and a cat who doesn’t get along, then we’ll have to work out names for the children and whether we should live in Emhart County or Lil Stone or …” I shake my head. “Life can become so complicated over a simple thing like a lighter, Aubergine.”
He laughs and snatches the lighter off my desk.
After he lights up, we smile at each other, then he blows smoke on my face. I grin at him as I hear his thoughts.
Would you like to go out on Friday night? Um … what are you doing on Friday night? Are you free on ….? A few of us are going out on Friday … since you mentioned Friday night, I might as well …
Ohmigod! My heart starts to race. Oh, please let him have the courage to ask me out.
He clears his throat. “My name is Brody, not Aubergine, and since you mentioned Friday night, Burn, would you like to go out with me? And a few friends. Together, I mean.”
“Friday night? Hold on.” I reach into my bag, grab a large exercise book and thumb furiously through it. I shut the book and look at him. “I’ll pencil you in for Friday night.”
He laughs, snatches the exercise book out of my hands, flips through it and says, ”It’s not a bloody diary, it’s an exercise book!”
“Yeah, but it makes me look super-cool.” I sit back and smile. “Friday night is good. I would love to go out with you, Brody.”
“Cool.” He actually looks pleased, which is confusing to me.
As we leave, I ask, “So you aren’t like, seeing any …?”
“I was until a month ago. I’m a free agent now.”
“Oh. How come?”
“We couldn’t agree on children’s names.”
I laugh as we part ways.
Immediately, I conference my peeps to tell them the good news.
“You serious?” Laura asks. “So quickly?”
“Yeah, I’m stunned,” I say.
“You guys sure are moving at an alarming rate!” Tina says.
“Yeah, I know. But he’s asking me. It’s not like I’m pushing things or something.”
“So where you going to?” Sultana asks.
“I dunno. But damn! I have nothing to wear. Nothing nice!”
“Can’t you steal something from your cousins?”
“Yeah, but they will see me going out and you know what happened the last time – Daisy made me take off her jacket before I left. Imagine that happening in front of Brody?”
“I can take you shopping tomorrow after school,” Tina says. We all know what that means.
“Can’t. I got detention. Can we do it at lunch time?”
“Yeah, okay.”
“Great.”
How I wish I had lots of money so I could go shopping and find something that will make me drop-dead-gorgeous. I so want to impress Brody.
****
“Calm down, calm down,” Angel says. “Breathe in, breathe out - natural valium, remember?”
“Don’t tell me to calm down, Angel! This is Brody McGraw we’re talking about! Where d’ya learn about natural valium anyway?”
She chuckles. “I watched How to Look Young Forever with Carlene. Talks about how stress ages you and the importance of deep breathing.”
“Okay, okay, okay!” I say and gulp at the stale air in the room.
“He’s just a boy, that’s all,” she says. “So just relax, be interested, don’t try to be interesting.”
I look at my little sister with my mouth opened. “What? Where d’ya learn all of that?”
“I watched How to Snag a Millionaire with Carlene. Now … in … out … in … out …”
“You sure I look okay?”
“Yeah, you look nice, Burn.”
I squint at the mirror and gasp. “Ohmigod, Angel! I have lipstick on my teeth! Why didn’t you tell me? Red lipstick too, Angel. Ohmigod, imagine if he saw me like this? He’d have thought I was one of those Twilight blood-sucking vampires.”
“Relax, Burn. It’s just a little lipstick. It’s not like you have something in your teeth.”
“My teeth! Ohmigod!” I dive for the mirror again and bare my teeth. Nothing. Slowly my heart rate returns to normal. In …out …in …out …in …out…
I think I’m more stressed about Brody picking me up from home than anything else. I couldn’t very well tell him that he couldn’t come to my home, so I have to risk it.
When I hear Carlene playing Shania Twain’s I feel like a Woman I decide to start praying.
Please let Carlene be clothed, when he shows up.
Please let Lanie and Daisy not fight in front of him about the missing black bandage skirt.
Please don’t let them tell the stories about how much weight I lost or how I sometimes talk to myself.
Please let him think I look pretty.
Please don’t let him fall for Daisy or Lanie.
Daisy balks when she sees me. “What the …?” She skirts me, surprise all over her pretty face. “You going on …” Her hands fly to her mouth. “Ohmigod!”
“She’s got a date!” Carlene yells over Shania.
I’ve never seen Daisy look so shocked. “With … whom?” You’ve gotta be kidding me.
“A boy! What do you expect? Burn’s not a lesbian.”
“Shhhh!” I hiss.
At that moment, the doorbell goes. Of all the moments – crap!
Please let him not have heard that remark.
“I didn’t say Burn was a lesbian!” Daisy shouts. Skanky ass Mother!
“Shhhh!” I hiss again.
“Are you?” Daisy asks.
“Shhhh!” God, these people are driving me nuts. I shake my head furiously as I race to the door.
“I’ll get it!” Carlene says. I reach the door the same time she does.
Brody looks handsome as ever. Okay, so he’s wearing a check shirt, reminding me of a cowboy from Brokeback Mountain, but he’s cleaned up and shaved and he fills the jeans he’s wearing really well. I’ve never seen him look this scrubbed before, so I suspect he’s dressed for me. Me! In his hand, he carries a single red rose.
With a beautiful smile, he hands it to me. “You look nice, Burn,” he whispers. I get a whiff of aftershave. How cool is that?
“Thank you,” I murmur as I caress the blood-red rose. “It’s so pretty.”
“Ahem!”
“Eh, Brody, meet Carlene and … and my cousin …”
“Well helloooo, Brody!” Carlene says, as her eyes sweep slowly over him. “Come on … in.”
“… Daisy.”
His eyes dart to me, then to her, then to me again and I feel him squirm under her penetrating gaze.
She’s dressed for the occasion - a pair of white shorts which shows off her butt cheeks. Her white top shows cleavage and nipples as she’s not wearing a bra, and it barely covers her midriff.
With a dazzling smile, she puts out one hand while the other clutches a glass of Merlot.
They shake hands.
“I didn’t know it was you she was talking about when she mentioned the name Brody,” she says holding onto his hand. You sure look good enough to eat. “How is your father?” He was good enough to eat.
“My father?”
“Yes,” I’ve had the privilege of meeting him before. Is he still wanting a family of presidents?”
“Eh, yeah …”
Daisy tosses her hair, sticks out her boobs and dazzles him with her smile. “Hey!” she says in a flirty voice. “Burn and Brody – imagine that.” Never in a million years did I think she’d get this lucky.
“Eh, this here,” I drag Angel forward, “is my sister Angel, Brody. “Say hello to Brody, Angel.”
“Hello,” Angel says with a shy smile then scurries off.
“Brody, I’ll be with you in a second,” I say.
“Sure.” She’s got my hand. Hurry up, will you?
I run off to say goodbye to Angel.
“Oh Burn, he’s really cute,” Angel whispers.
“He is, isn’t he?”
“He’s the one who wants to be president?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I think he’ll make a really good-looking president one day.”
“Yeah, I think so, too. Anyway, see you later.” I give her a quick kiss and hurry back to my crush.
I get back to the living room to find that Carlene still has his hand in hers. “I’m ready,” I say.
“… and now that she’s lost some weight …”
I grab Brody’s hand out of hers. “Let’s go!”
“Okay, now you kids remember, no glove, no love,” Carlene says.
“Christ, Carlene!” I put my hands over my eyes while Brody laughs. “Shit!”
He’s still laughing when we drive off in his car. His car is shiny and clean and smells of leather polish. “Nice wheels,” I say.
“Thank you. I cleaned it for you.”
“For me? How sweet.”
“So you’re not a lesbian, then?”
I groan with embarrassment and put my hand over my eyes. “Ohmigod, no!”
He gives me a cheeky grin. “Must admit, it’s very disappointing. A bit of a deal breaker.”
I look at him through the slits in my fingers. “Don’t say that.”
We both chuckle.
****
He takes me to Al Pako, a Mexican restaurant. It’s just him and I – none of the friends.
I take Angel’s advice and probe him with questions over Tapas, and we have a great time eating and talking. There is not a moment of silence between us.
“So where do you see yourself in five years?” I ask, trying to make conversation.
“Mmm. The youngest governor of California. Well not in five years, but shortly thereafter.”
“Wow. Really?”
“Yep. And you?”
“Oh me, well, my vision is simple – on the moon, running a tavern of some kind for truckers and long-distance drivers …”
“Trucks on the moon …. mm.” He smiles. “Interesting.”
“I’ll serve lemonade too, just in case.”
“Good idea.” He chuckles.
“So how come you won’t legalize weed when you’re president?”
He smiles. “Just won’t!”
“Oh, come on! That’s it, I’m not voting for you.”
“I’m straight-laced, a bore, a drip,” he says.
“Yeah, well, hang around me more and all that will change.” (All that I don’t like, I will simply change once we’re married. Jumping the gun here, but as Pussycat Dolls said: You might get what you wish for.)
He laughs. “So, Carlene … who’s she to you? I mean, she’s white?”
I explain that she’s my mother’s sister. “Don’t tell anyone, though. Carlene tells everyone she adopted us, took us in. It’s so Brad and Angelina, except that we’re older and can do the dishes.”
He smiles and shakes his head. “Apparently my grandfather, my mother’s father was a purebred racist, so I think my mom was rebelling when she married my dad.”
“Yeah?”
“Anything else you want to know about me, Aubergine?”
“Yeah.” He puts down his fork and looks at me. “How come you don’t have a boyfriend?”
“I …eh, I did have a boyfriend,” I lie. “We, eh, broke up.” Can’t tell him that I’ve never had a boyfriend and never been kissed.
“Why?”
“Eh, he … he … he was possessive.” If only.
“Ah.”
“So you’ve met my aunt,” I say, changing the subject.
“Ah, yes, she’s a piece of work for sure.”
We both laugh.
“I have an aunt like that. We cross the street whenever we see her approaching. Then we break into a sprint. Away from her.”
We share a lot of laughs and I’m sorry to end the evening. As we walk back to the car, he takes my hand in his. His hand is so big, strong and warm and I like it. My smile is bashful.
He looks at me and squeezes my hand and shyness overcomes me. I’m literally tongue-tied.
He stops walking and squints at me. “Burn is shy?”
I giggle and look away. This is so not cool.
“I don’t believe it. You?” He jerks my hand so I look at him.
“W … what do you mean?”
“You’re just so … confident and cocky and smart-alecy all the time.”
“That wasn’t me – that was my stunt double. This is the real me.” Thank God he can’t see me blushing in the dark.
He walks me to the door and we face each other. “Goodnight, Burn,” he says in a husky voice.
“Goodnight Brody. I had a nice time. Thank you.”
“Me too. I’d like to do it again.”
You would? You would? You would? Me toooooo! How ’bout tomorrow morning, 8 AM? I can even be ready at 7? Even 6 will be okay.
“Maybe next Saturday?” Before I can answer, he holds up his hand. “Don’t answer! I know you have to check your diary first.”
I double over laughing with a mixture of joy and nervousness. When I straighten up, he takes my face in his hand and looks at me.
His face is so close to mine, I feel his warm breath on my face. My heart threatens to stop beating at first, then I hear my heartbeat in my ears.
He lowers his lips closer to mine, my face still in his firm grasp.
Should I close my eyes? Should I keep them open? Should I smile and be all casual like I’ve done this before?
My hands – what should I do with them? Put them around his neck? On his chest? Around his waist? Shit, why didn’t I research this? There must be an app that tells you what to do in situations like this – first-kiss-from-your-crush app.
His face inches closer and he lowers his lips to mine. A gentle, but firm press. Before I can react, he raises his face and smiles at me.
Dumbfounded, I just stare at him, wishing he hadn’t stopped. Wishing he wouldn’t look at me like this.
Something needs to be said, so I take charge and say, “I…eh…I…um …”
I’m blowing this big time.
With a small laugh, he swoops down and kisses me long and deep, and my knees – they start to collapse and I have to clutch onto him to stop myself from falling. Luckily, he’s backed me up against the door so I have added support.
His mouth is sweet and minty from the after-dinner mint at the restaurant. The feeling is indescribable, but if you had to hold me at gunpoint and say “describe or else,” then I would say; it’s like someone threw a handful of glitter in the air and it’s raining down on me.
Awesome and unforgettable. Totally.
When he catches his breath, he rests his forehead on mine. For a few moments, we stand in silence, our arms around each other, our breathing slowly synchronizing, our heartbeats starting to match.
I like the feel of his mouth on mine.
I like the way he feels – firm chest, solid body, strong arms, tender lips. I’ve never been held like this before and it feels …well, I don’t want it to end.
I like him.
He breaks the silence. “Cat got your tongue?”
“Miaow!” I whisper.
With a smile he moves to kiss me again.
But, the door is flung open and both of us almost topple onto Carlene. She gives us a well-well-well-what-have-we-here? look. “You have a key, Burn. Don’t you?”
Brody and I quickly try to compose ourselves. He sticks his hands deep in his pockets, while I pat my hair down.
“Yeah, yeah!” I say and frown at her short satin gown which shows a ton of cleavage and a lot of thigh.
“Why you ringing the doorbell then?”
“Door …? I suddenly get it – Brody had backed me against our door, right onto the doorbell. Shit! I sneak a glance at Brody and bite my lower lip.
Even though it’s dark, I see his blush.
“Sorry,” we chorus.
“Well, I’ll be …” Brody tips my nose with his finger. “Night, Burn,” he says, as he backs away, then runs down a few stairs to his car.
“Night,” I mouth. Actually, I’m really embarrassed to say, I gushed.
At his car, he looks at me and waits for me to enter the house. The moment I do, I look at him through the window and wave. He waves, then drives off.
Thereafter I float. This was my first date and my first kiss and it couldn’t have been with a nicer person. Not to mention just how friggin’ hot he is.
Five minutes later, he texts me. ilikeitalot. Jumping up and down with happiness icon.
I laugh and text him back. Ilikeitalottoo Xoxo blushing face icon.
He texts me back.xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxox
Feeling like I’ve got a fever, I make my way to bed. As I lie in bed in the dark, I keep touching my lips. Even though the kiss ended a long time ago, if I close my eyes, I still feel the imprint of his lips on mine, the taste of his mouth and the feel of his body against mine. Then, I post-mortem every step of the way leading to that kiss. Magical.
My first date, my first kiss and he wants to see me again. I have some major boxes to tick. Wow!
I drum on the bed with my legs, a huge smile on my face.
****
Our second date is even nicer than the first, even though he’s wearing a check shirt again. (This guy can’t dress for shit. Seems like he doesn’t care.) But judging by the way the girls eyeball him, he still looks hot.
We go to watch a movie. Some dance movie that neither of us bothers to watch. We just sit in the back row and neck all the time. Kiss and hug every thirty seconds. It is just so nice and I’m in a purple haze. When we leave the cinema– he walks on the side of traffic and walks me to the door, then waits for me to get into the house and wave at him from inside, before he drives off. I like that – makes me feel really cared for.
Brody sees me every day and we hang out all the time. He doesn’t have a part time job, but he has his mom’s credit card, which he uses on me all the time. When I get off work, he’s waiting to pick me up. By the time I get home, it’s usually after midnight.
I introduce him to my crew who are thrilled to have a McGraw sitting with us. It helps that he’s a sweetie – easy to get on with and he’s not in any way pretentious, so with each passing day, I dig him more and more.
I love how he holds my hand with both of his and his order of kisses – first my forehead, then my cheeks, then my nose and finally my lips. As for his hugs, they are so warm, that I don’t want to leave his arms. How can’t I help but fall in love with him?
My seventeenth birthday arrives, but unfortunately our fake IDs haven’t materialized. Danes is out of the question for now.
I make a mental note to go after Luther with a baseball bat for fucking us around.
But Brody is so sweet; he buys me a gold neck chain with a heart-shaped locket. Carlene tells me it’s gold.
I’m stunned. I slip it on and vow never to take it off.
Then, he takes me to dinner at a restaurant where the prices are not on the menu and where the waiter speaks with an accent like Inspector Clouseau from the Pink Panther.
I feel intimidated and afraid to even speak in case I say something dumb. But Brody, who I do believe is trying to impress me, is at ease and even speaks French to the waiter.
Am I impressed? Duh. Think about it – I have Bobby Stainer, Fung, Harjoon and the likes in my life to compare Brody with, so yeah, I’m way impressed.
I ask him to order for me. I’m so glad one of us knows how to pronounce stuff on the menu.
He uses his mom’s credit card to pay for the dinner. I’m so glad one of us can afford this.
After dinner, he takes me to Airee Fairee for ice cream. As we laugh, kiss, and feed each other, the words ‘soul mate’ comes to my gaga mind. I want to marry him and have his kids and his grandkids. I want to be one of those couples who celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary and who share eyeglasses and walking aids.
I think he feels the same way too, because he’s always hugging and kissing me.
It’s a bummer that the evening has to end. My best birthday ever.
At home, Daisy’s envy is visible when she sees the gold chain. “It’s very fine. Will break very quickly. You sure it’s gold? No rolled gold or plated?”
“It’s gold, believe me,” Carlene says. “I know what the pawn store looks for when I take stuff to them.”
Daisy’s lips thin. “Who’d have thought – you and Brody McGraw? It’s not Christmas but you’ve got your miracle, Burn.”
“It won’t last,” Lanie predicts. “You guys are too different. He’s just sampling.”
“Sampling?” I’ve never heard of that term before. “What do you mean?”
“Trying a variety of offerings,” Lanie says, her tone light and happy. “A good-looking guy like that likes his smorgasbord – tonight I feel like Indian, tomorrow I’ll try some Chinese, Sunday, how ’bout Mexican? Ass, that is. Get it?”
Daisy laughs. “A smorgasbord of ass – ha, ha, ha!”
Lanie is older than me and more experienced when it comes to jerks. I mean guys. Could she be right?
My excitement dips. “Well,” I say, dressing my fear in a coat of arrogance. “He’s free to sample if he wants to. I can get better.” Yeah, right. If only I believed what I just said.
Synchronized eye rolling.
That pisses me off so I steam ahead. “I mean, if I can get Brody McGraw to buy me a gold chain, I can get any guy I want.” As I said, i