We’re at a local hang-out called Marlows. The place is vibey – lots of laughing teenagers, flashy cars with loud music and everyone seems to know one another.
There we meet Brody’s cousins - real loud assholes. I mean, rednecks. As noisy as they are, they fall silent when they see me with Brody. At first I feel uncomfortable under their scrutiny, but after a while, when I see that Brody doesn’t give a shit, I stop giving a shit.
Marcus McGraw, who is brother to Bud McGraw, is Brody’s eldest obnoxious cousin. Tall, with blue eyes, big muscles and even bigger attitude, (a shitty one) he’s clearly the leader of this pack and I’m immediately uncomfortable around him. From the corner of my eye I see him checking me out, a toothpick in his mouth. Aunt Dawn ain’t gonna be too happy with you, little nigglet.
Since he hasn’t voiced his thoughts, I can do little about it. But I wish he would shove that toothpick up his pasty ass.
Nick is also there with Kate. He looks sheepishly at me. “Burn! What a delightful …”
“Say one fucking racial joke,” I threaten quietly.
He chuckles and raises his hands in a surrendering motion. But he’s unable to resist. “I don’t need to say anything. My cousins here – wait and see.”
Bud walks over and smiles at me. “Hello, Burnt. How nice of you to take time out of your schedule and …”
“Save it, Bud.”
“What?” He grins and throws out his hands. “I’m being nice, Burnt.”
“Yeah, right.” I turn my back on him.
Kate and Brittany stroll over. “Hiiiii, Burn!” Kate says. “How cool is this? We all hanging out together. Never thought I’d see the day.” BanjoLips. “I have to Facebook this,” she says, whipping out her phone and taking a photo of all of us.
Even though I know that my friends will be furious with me for that photo, I can’t help but feel a thrill – I’m finally hanging out with the popular kids. Ashamed, but secretly thrilled.
Brody puts his arm around me and draws me to him.
A black BMW, blaring out Fifty Cent’s In Da Club mix, cruises by. Inside are four guys – two black, one Hispanic and I can’t see what the fourth guy is because of the dark windows.
“What the fuuuuck?” Marcus says, looking at the BMW and gesturing wildly.
The BMW brakes.
“Oooooh!” The guys around me murmur.
The BMW reverses. All our guys get to their feet and brace themselves.
Brody untangles himself from me and jumps up to join the rest of the guys around us who are now snarling at the occupants of the BMW.
“You say something?” the driver of the BMW says to Marcus.
“Yeah, I say, ya must be lost, boy, ’cause this ain’t where ya should be cruising,” Marcus says, chewing on his toothpick, a bring-it-on-look in his eyes. “That’s what I say, boy. Now move the fuck on!”
I nudge Brody. “Stop this, Brody,” I say. “This is dangerous. I mean, those guys don’t look like the sort of guys you should be starting shit with.”
“Relax, Burn,” he says, his eyes fixed on the occupants of the BMW.
“Guys could get seriously hurt here, Brody. And tell Marcus to stop calling them ‘boy’! That’s disrespectful, Brody.”
“Stand back!” Brody says and literally shoves me behind him. “It’s about time we put this guy in his place.”
I look around him at the BMW and lock eyes with the guy in the passenger’s seat. He’s got dreadlocks, earrings, lots of chains around his neck and a gleam in his eyes that tells me something bad’s gonna happen.
I tear my eyes away from him and walk backwards.
The BMW moves on.
The guys around me relax. They go on to high-five each other and post-mortem their brush with ‘them niggas’.
“You’ve had run-ins with them before?” I ask.
“A couple of times,” Brody says.
“Okay, but Brody, Marcus is asking for trouble,” I say. “You guys shouldn’t be messing with them.”
“No, he’s not,” Brody says. “Chill – those niggas aren’t gonna hurt you.”
“Brody!” I’m horrified by his use of the ‘n’ word.
“What?”
“What’s with the ‘nigga’ shit? How can you use that word?”
“Whaddya mean?” He actually looks surprised.
“Brody …” I touch my chest, “am I a ‘nigga’?”
He jerks back. “What?! Who called you that?”
“Brody, I am black. You can’t …”
“No, you’re not! You’re …” His eyes sweep over me slowly as if he’s seeing me for the first time. “You’re … Burn.” What a dope.
“Man, Brody, for someone who’s gonna be president one day, you sure are dumb sometimes. You shouldn’t be using the ‘n’ word. It’s disrespectful.”
He runs his hand slowly over his face. “Guess you’re right. Sorry. Habit. I’ll stop, okay?” He leans in and kisses my cheek. “Sorry. You’re right. I won’t use those words again.”
“It’s good to call a spade a spade, Burn,” Marcus pipes up. “In my case, I call a spade a nigga.” He guffaws like the asshole he is.
All the guys around him laugh as well.
“Marcus, that is not funny,” I say. “It’s disrespectful.”
“It ain’t like I was calling ya a nigga, Burn,” Marcus says with an amused look on his face.
“Marcus, what the fuck!” Brody snaps.
Marcus laughs. “I withdraw the comment, coz. Sorry.” He looks anything but sorry.
“Let’s get out of here,” Brody mutters, appearing peeved at Marcus’s words.
Pleased that Brody is seeing things from my point of view, I grab my bag and stand up. Can’t wait to lose these racists shitheads.
Then the BMW returns along with two other BMWs. They pull up across us and my head swims with the outspoken abuse and all-round hostility.
Fucking niggers!
Whachulookinat?
You eyeballing me? Huh?
Yeah, keep looking ‘cause that’s all you’re gonna be doing, mother fucker.
Watchusay whiteboy?
“What a sellout, fucking black bitch.”
I spin around. They talking about me? I’m the only ‘black bitch’ here.
A black guy with a kind of Mohawk eyeballs me. What you staring at ho?
I look away. The thing about me – I never start a fight. I’m too busy looking for the next laugh to want to start trouble.
The girl on his arm, a Barbie look-alike, glares at me for a while, then gives me the finger.
I look at her, then I look at the guy with the dreadlocks – the one who eyeballed me the last time. Again, our eyes lock.
“Brody, let’s get out of …” I stop when I see the guy with the dreadlocks pointing a gun at Brody. “Gun!” I yell.
Shots are fired. We all duck as bullets whizz over our heads. The shooting stops but beer bottles fly towards us. Brody shields me with his body until the bottles stop coming. In the process, one of them slams against Brody’s head.
After that, Marcus pulls out his gun and all hell breaks loose.
“Burn, get into the car and lock the door!” Brody shouts. I race to the car, which is unlocked, get into it and lock the door.
Then to my horror, I see Brody and the guy with Dreads rolling on the floor. Everyone is fighting and it’s just crazy.
When we hear the sound of police sirens, the fighting stops and everyone scatters. Brody dives into the car and we race away.
“Brody, you’re bleeding!”
“I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not! You’re bleeding. You have to go to the ER, Brody.” I’m freaking out at the sight of blood running down the side of his face. I force him to drive to the emergency department, only to find the black guy with Dreads and a few of his mates there being treated for wounds as well.
Then Marcus and the rest of Brody’s friends and cousins arrive for treatment and both sides hurl abuse and threats at each other.
“There’s more, white boy,” Dreads says.
“Yeah, well, you know where I am,” Brody says. “Anytime you want, bring your water pistol again.”
“Brody, stop!” I hiss.
“Fuck him!” Brody says.
“Fuck me?” Dreads walks towards Brody. “Fuck me?”
My heart sinks at the thought of him pulling out his gun again for Brody. Luckily, hospital security steps in and keeps both groups apart.
Brody needs eight stitches to the head wound. Shaken by the events of the evening, I sit with him and hold his hand throughout.
It feels like hours later before Brody is finished. I am really upset at everything – the blatant racism, the gun, the fight, Brody’s injury …
In fact, I have to fight back tears.
“Hey!” Brody says. “Why the long face?”
I don’t answer.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “’Bout everything.”
I nod.
“Give me a smile.”
I grimace him one.
“Bigger.”
“Bro …dy!”
“Bigger, baby Burn.”
I flash him all my teeth.
“Aww c’mon! Give a Burn special.”
I smile and touch his face. “Don’t look now but you’ve become Indian,” I point to the huge white bandage on his head. “I’m gonna have to change your name from Aubergine to Apoo and …”
He holds up both hands. I place mine against his so that our fingertips touch, then our palms. He draws me close, raises our hands above our heads and kisses me gently. Then he brings our hands behind my back and jerks me into him, close and tight. We kiss again, this time deeper and longer.
“I love you, Burn,” he whispers.
When I get over my surprise at his words, I touch his nose with mine. “I love you, Brody.”
As he draws me to him for a kiss, I realize I never want to be out of his arms again. Yeah, I know we’re young and I’m thinking ahead, but that’s how I feel right now.
“I’m gonna marry you one day,” he says.
“Yeah?” I’m seventeen! Maybe he hurt his head really badly.
“Yeah. We’re gonna have three kids – one boy and two little girls. No, no, no, make that one girl and two boys. I’m gonna need help with her if she’s anything like you.”
“Yeah?” A deep thrill shoots through me.
“You’re mine now,” he says. “We gotta make it official.”
“Well, I’ll start by changing my Facebook profile to ‘In a Relationship’,” I say.
“Yeah do that. Upload a pic of both of us.”
Wow! All my dreams are coming true.
“I have one, right here,” I say.
“Then change it. Now.”
With a smile big enough to fit in a coat hanger, I change my profile pic and my status.
When I’m done, I show him my phone.
We grin then kiss again.
“Brody!” We jerk apart as his parents barge into the room.
“Who’s she?” his mother asks, eyeing me with naked disdain.
I’m really taken aback at her hostility towards me. Disappointed, more like it. His father on the other hand looks at me with a mixture of annoyance and confusion.
“Mom, dad, this is Burn, my date,” Brody says. “Burn, meet Robert and Dawn.”
‘Hi, nice to meet you,” I murmur.
His mother’s lips purse. You got to be kidding me! She says not a word.
Even though it’s almost midnight, she looks really well put together. Her shoulder-length blonde hair is shiny and flicked out and she wears a pair of chocolate, velour sweat pants with a matching jacket. She’s slim and has the back of a ballerina.
His father gives me a curious but curt nod, then turns to Brody. “You okay, son?”
As they fuss over Brody, I quietly walk out of the ward and wait outside.
The police arrive and question both Brody and I about the assault. I tell them what I saw – the guy with the Dreads drew out a gun and fired at Brody. They take my statement and shortly after that, I see them with Dreads. He’s now in handcuffs and being led out of the hospital.
Almost an hour later, Brody is allowed to leave the hospital, but of course, he’s not allowed to drive. Brody’s mother drives Brody’s car. Throughout the drive back home, she never says a word to me except to mumble goodnight when I get out of the car.
“I’ll walk you,” Brody says and opens his door.
“No!” Dawn says. “You shouldn’t walk just yet, Brody.”
“Yes,” I whisper. “I’ll be okay, Brody.” I lean in to give him a hug, but Brody gets out and gives me a hug and a kiss.
Goddamn you, girl!
“I love you,” he whispers.
“I love you, too,” I whisper, feeling Dawn’s anger at me.
“Don’t say the evening wasn’t entertaining,” Brody says in my ears.
I chuckle. “Oh boy, was it entertaining.”
“Night, baby Burn,” he says.
As I walk to my door, I’m feeling both happy and disappointed. Brody told me he loves me – that is amazing. His mother and father don’t like me – that is disappointing.
In spite of all that’s happened, I smile and hug myself. Brody loves me!
As I fall asleep that night, I reflect on my luck. Imagine me, Miss Nobody, a misfit, a Mixican, getting the star athlete in our school to tell me he loves me, all in a couple of months – record time. How cool is that? Some boxes need to be ticked.
Changing my status on Facebook to ‘In a relationship’ – tick!
Changing my profile picture to me and my crush – tick!
From now on talking in “We” – tick!
Getting my first kiss from someone I really like – tick!
Falling in love – tick!
Getting your crush to fall in love with you – tick!
I can hardly believe my luck. Life is just puuurrrrfect.