I’m no chess player so I don’t take ages to make my move. Too impatient for that. But I’m angry. Angry at Brody for his deceptive behaviour, angry at Dawn for making me feel inferior, angry at Kate for having life so easy and having Dawn’s approval, angry at Erro for being right, but most of all, I’m angry at myself for (in spite of how Dawn made me feel) still wanting to belong to Dawn’s fucked up world.
I stroll over to the racetrack where Brody trains. He’s there, looking as hot as ever in his running gear. I don’t want him to see me just yet, but he does, and his face lights up at the sight of me. He scales a wall between us and rushes to me. “Burn baby, Burn!” he shouts.
“Hey, Brody.”
“Came to cheer? Where’s your pompoms?” He plants a kiss on my lips.
I manage a tiny smile.
“What’s with the blonde hair?”
I shrug. “You like it?”
He squints. “Not … sure.”
I can tell he doesn’t like it, but that’s tough. It’s not for him, it’s for Dawn.
“Brody,” I blurt, “this is not the right time, but I have to ask you a question.”
“Yeah?”
“Did … did Alicia have dinner with your family last Friday night?”
He looks to the left, then to the right, then at me. Yes.
I squeeze my eyes shut as a million little porcupines nestle around my heart. “Brody, are you seeing both of …?”
“I didn’t invite her. My mother did.”
“So … why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t think it was necessary, baby.”
I shake my head. “It was, Brody.”
“McGraw!” His coach calls.
He scratches his head and looks at the ground. “Can we talk about this later? I’ll pick you up and take you out and we can talk?” He gives me a quick kiss and starts to hurry off.
I grab his arm. “Where to?” This is such a loaded question. “Where to, Brody?”
“Eh …” he thinks about it, “Emerald Town?”
Dawn was right. The porcupines dart around my heart. “That’s like half an hour away, Brody.”
“So?”
I take a deep breath then nod. “Later,” I say and walk off, my heart heavy.
That evening, when he arrives to pick me up, I say, “Let’s not go anywhere, Brody. Let’s just sit and talk, okay?”
With a frown, he switches off the ignition and looks at me. “’Sup?” His eyes are full of concern.
“Your father and mother – they don’t want you dating me, right?”
“Whaaaat? Nah…” He’s unable to meet my eyes.
“Brody, stop!”
He sighs, then hangs his head. After a moment, he looks up at me. “I don’t care what they say, Burn. I really care about you. I love being with you.” He shrugs. “That’s all that should matter, right?” He leans over and starts to kiss me. “Let’s go eat, okay?”
I push him away. “So that’s why you’ve been keeping me under wraps? Because they don’t want you to be seen with me?”
He runs his hand slowly over his face. “Burn, the election is in four months. After that I don’t care. I just don’t want to jeopardize my Dad’s chances.”
“How does dating me affect …?”
You’re black, baby.
Startled that a thought like that could be so be undisguised in his mind, I gawk at him.
He grabs me and hugs me. “Look, don’t worry ’bout them, baby. It’s me and you ...”
I shove him off hard.
“Burn, you don’t understand …”
“No, you don’t understand, Brody. You guys really are KKK.”
Not me.
Nuff said. Or in his case, nuff unsaid.
“Your family is. That’s disgusting, Brody.”
“I agree, I agree, but Burn, It’s how I was raised and it’s kinda hard to shake. But, I really care about you and I don’t see your color ‘cause I just love you, Burn. And I’m sorry…”
“If you cared about me, you’d tell your father to take a hike, Brody.”
“Burn, it’s not so easy. If I do anything to harm my father’s career, how do I face my family, Burn? I’m eighteen, baby.” He sounds so helpless.
“Burn, baby …” I allow him to take me into his arms and kiss me. He buries his face in my hair and squeezes me to him. “How ’bout just for the next four months we keep it on the low? Thereafter we can …”
“Like I’m a secret, huh? Is that why you didn’t change your profile picture on Facebook? Huh?”
He looks at me with guilt all over his face. “I changed my status, I just didn’t change my profile picture. Burn, try to understand – I’m not listening to my father. He wants me to give you up. I’m saying, let’s keep a low profile – do what it takes so we can be together. Why can’t you appreciate that? Huh?” His nostrils flare. “Why can’t you be happy with what we have? Why must everything be your way? Things don’t always have to be black and white, Burn!”
“Black and white … good choice of words, Brody McGraw,” I sneer.
“Oh, for fucks sake, Burn!”
I shoot him a defiant look.
He turns his whole body to look at me. “Let me ask you a question: if Angel was trying really hard to get into a special college and she’s worked for years at it – done everything necessary, worked hard on her grades …and you knew that what you did, leading up to her getting in, these next couple months, could impact negatively on her dream, ruin her chances – what would you do?”
I look down.
“If you knew that in a couple of months, she’ll be in, and then you could do as you please, Burn? Huh?”
I continue looking at the floor.
“Would it make sense to lay low for a while, huh?” He reaches over, grabs my chin and turns my face so that he can look into my eyes. “Would you do it for Angel?”
I open my mouth to speak.
“Don’t answer,” he says. “Just think about it. I love you, I want to be with you, but my father, he needs my loyalty and …” Slowly, he runs his fingers through his hair and lets out a long sigh. “Gimme a break, Burn. Help me with this, okay? I’m trying, I really am. There’s you, and there’s my family …”
I sit back and mull over his words. If I say, “yes” there is no problem. We can meet in secret and nobody will know. But hurt’s a bitch - it slithers through me and coils around my heart.
After a few moments of silence, he reaches out and pulls me to him. “Baby, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry about all this … this crap.” He puts his forehead to mine. “I don’t wanna lose you.”
I close my eyes as the weighing starts.
Never to see him again, never to kiss him again, never to laugh with him again …
It’s too much to even think about.
But then again, my personality has changed, I’m hurting all the time, I’m being treated like I’m something to be ashamed of and I’m starting to feel ashamed of myself–of who I am.
My mom always said that nobody can make you feel ashamed of yourself – you volunteer to feel that way. So why am I complaining?
I am Burn. I refuse to let people treat me badly.
Summoning every bit of strength from God knows where, I hold his face away, kiss him one last time and say, “It was nice knowing you, Brody, and I think …I think …that I will love you f …forever.” I open the door, get out of the car and run into my house.
He jumps out of the car and runs up to me. “Burn, wait! Burn!”
I shut the door on his pleas.
Hurriedly, I strip off my clothes, crawl into bed and lie in the dark. I will not cry over a boy. That’s what he is – a boy.
Fucking racists! I thump my pillow. God! I hate them all.
He calls my phone but I ignore his calls. He texts me but I ignore his texts too.
I need a cigarette. Badly. I get out of bed, slip into Carlene’s room, steal a couple of her Marlboros and go out to the porch to smoke. My hands shake and I worry I’m going to burn myself with my cigarette. I sit on one hand and use the other to smoke.
Erro sits on a chair and looks at me, but I ignore her.
My phone rings again. I look at caller ID and hit “End call”.
Guys like Brody don’t go for girls like you.
He’s sampling.
It won’t last.
Lanie was spot on.
“It’s okay to cry, Burn,” Erro says in a gentle voice.
“No, it’s not,” I say. “You should never cry over a boy.”
“You’re not crying over a boy; you’re crying because you feel pain, Burn.”
“I don’t feel pain.”
“What do you feel?”
I have to think about my answer. “Angry.”
“What about sad? Do you feel sad?”
I look at her for a few moments, then burst into tears.
Erro walks over to me, takes me in her arms and holds me while my heart splinters into a million pieces. Finally, I give myself permission to cry. I bawl for Brody who I love so much.
I bawl for me, for having the strength to ignore my heart and listen to my head.
I bawl for all the Burns of the world who were made to feel inferior by the Dawn McGraws of the world.
One day, I will get Dawn McGraw. I promise.
****
I stay in bed for three days, unable to get up. My whole body feels like lead and my head hurts all the time. I barely eat and I fall asleep in seconds. However, I awake at 4 AM every day and can’t go back to sleep.
Why didn’t anyone tell me just how painful heartbreak was? The movies and TV shows makes it seem so glamorous that I longed to experience it. Now that I have, I want to curl up and die from the deep physical and emotional pain. Surely there must be a pill for this already? Surely there’s an app for this?
Brody’s called so many times, that I’ve just put my phone on vibrate. I scroll through his messages and re-read them one by one.
21:55 Call me, please. We can work this out.
21:59 Burn, call me.
22:15 Answer ur phone. Called u 15 times.
23:10 U r being pig headed.
23:45 Answer ur fucking phone!!!!!
01:15 Youre such a fuckn drama queen.
02:55 GO FUCK URSELF IM NEVER CALLIN U AGAIN.
0:5:02 Wat kind of ghosts haunt hospitals? Surgical spirits. :)
06:01 That was funny. Bet u lol.
9:03 I miss u like crazy. Im sorry.
11:13 I want to fix the problem Burn. Give me a chance to do that.
14:23 k, this is the last time I try to contact u after this, I will never contact u again.
16:32 Ur problem is that ur too dumb - don’t understand politics or the world of business for that matter!!!! Stupid cow!
20:59 u left ur scarf in my car uwantitcomengetit:)
22:03 I luv u. please answer ur phone. Please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please
23:55 go fuck urself. I don’t need u in my life going to bed. Not gon waste nnee sleep on u. done.
06:08 What did Batman say to Robin before they got in the car?
Robin, get in the car. Smiling? am wearing ur scarf today. Don care if its pink :)
11:14 I give up
01:32 I hate u.
01:32 I hate u
01:33 I absolutely hate u
01:34 I regret ever meeting u
07:24 morning! :)
****
When I finally get back to school, as expected, Kate and her friends corner me. “Hey, Burn!” Kate says in a voice like maple syrup. “Missed you at Brody’s mom’s birthday bash.”
“Yeah, well, Brody and I are no longer an item.” I attempt to keep my voice upbeat and light. I will only cry alone. Never in public. Nobody will ever know my pain. It’s how I’m wired.
“Oh that’s right, you’ve changed your status on Facebook. Mm, we noticed that.”
“Yeah, well, shit happens,” I say in what I hope is a dismissive voice so that they’ll get the fuck out of my face and leave me and my broken heart alone.
“It does, it does. And you’re okay with the breakup, Burn?” She looks directly at my face, her voice dripping phony concern.
“Yep. All dandy! ”
“Good, ’cause I was worried with your eyes looking all so red and puffy. But I guess you’ve been partying too much, that’s all.”
“Mff! Something like that.”
“Such a relief to us.” She places her hand on her chest and smiles, reminding me of Dawn McGraw.
The moment I leave them, I burst into tears again. In an attempt to prevent anyone from seeing me cry, I dart into the girls’ bathroom only to run into Tina.
“What’s wrong?” she asks when she sees my red eyes.
“Nothing,” I mumble.
“I know something’s wrong.” She grabs my shoulders and peers into my face. “What is it, Burn?”
We are joined by Laura and Sultana.
“What …?” Laura is aghast to see tears running down my cheeks.
They mill around me, all their bitchiness they displayed a few days ago forgotten.
“I b … broke up with B … Brody,” I sob and dab my eyes with toilet tissue.
“Whyyyy?” Sultana asks.
Between sobs, I tell them everything and soon they are crying with me.
They offer words of comfort, crumpled Kleenex from their purses, M&Ms and suggest we go to Fung’s so we can weed our troubles away.
I nod and we cut classes and make our way to Fung’s.
After smoking a joint that Tina produced, offers to get revenge on Dawn follows. I’m to cut to get involved in their discussion.
“We can put sugar in the bitch’s gas tank,” Tina says, her eyes smoldering.
“Okay, but then they have so many cars, she’ll just drive another one. What’s the big deal?” Told you Laura was the smart one in our group.
“Mm. We can call her at 4 AM and abuse the crap out of her,” Sultana says.
“What will you say?” Laura asks.
Sultana takes a deep breath and rears up in preparation for the abuse she’s gonna heap on Dawn. “‘Hey bitch, you’re a … a …a real bitch!’”
“That’s it?” Tina asks.
“Yeah, but you have to be awake at 4 AM to call her and abuse her.”
“I can’t get up at 4 AM,” Sultana says, looking horrified at the thought of having to break her sleep.
“Plus you don’t have her cell number?” Again, Laura is almost as smart as Google, I tell you.
“Yeah, true.” Sultana’s shoulders drop.
Silence.
“Hey, we can put a scorpion in her letter box!” Tina says.
“A scorpion, eeeewww! That’s a great idea!” Laura says. “Then, when she goes to fetch her mail – ouch!”
“That’s an awesome idea!” Sultana says.
“But … where you gonna get the scorpion from?” Laura asks.
“From the dessert,” Sultana says.
“You mean desert?” Laura says.
“Eh … yeah. I think …” Sultana scratches her head.
“How do we get there? How do we transport it?” Laura asks.
“We drive there in your mother’s car, pick it up, put it in a box and keep it till we’re like, ready to you know …”
“How do we keep it alive till then? Won’t we have to give it water and like, food?” Laura asks.
Silence.
“What if it bites us?” Tina asks.
“You must wear gloves, that’s all,” Laura says.
Tina goes ballistic. “I must wear gloves? I must wear gloves? Are you fucking MAD? I’m not touching a scorpion, thank you very much.” Her added measure is to hold her hands close to her body as if the scorpion is in the room with us.
“Well, I can’t ‘cause I … I … like, I got allergies and stuff,” Laura mumbles.
“I’m not touching it either,” Sultana says. “Oooh no!” She looks at Tina. “It was your idea …”
“Yes, but did you hear me say that I was gonna pick it up? Huh?”
“No Tuna,” Sultana spits. “I didn’t.”
“That’s right, Grape!” Tina snarls.
Okay, so they didn’t put sugar in Dawn’s gas tank and they didn’t get a scorpion from the dessert, eh, desert. But it is the thought that counts and I love my friends for it.
My phone goes off. Tina picks it up and twists her mouth. “It’s the racist mother fucking asshole.”
I wish she wouldn’t call him that, even though she’s half right.
I shake my head. Has to be a clean break to heal, I’m told.
She cuts the call, again and spits. “Bastard!”
I wish she wouldn’t call him that, even though she’s half right.
“You’re making our friend cry, asswipe!” Laura yells.
I wish she wouldn’t say that even though she’s right.
“Yeah, dumb, shit, mommy’s boy,” Sultana says to the phone. “Go fuck your mommy!”
I wish she wouldn’t say that at all.