If I Were Your Boyfriend (31 page)

"
is mother is crazy!" Barbara said as we walked to the car. I wanted to stay and be there for Wesley but Barbara insisted that I come back home with her.

  I pleaded my case to her. "You know she's crazy. That's why he needs me. He can't deal with her all by himself, Barbara. She'll drive him mad. Trust me on this one. If there is one thing I have experience with, it's crazy mothers."

  "Keysha." Barbara stopped walking and looked at me. "Let's get in the car first before I say what I have to say." We continued to the car. Once we were inside, she fired up the motor. "Sweetie, I know you want to be there for Wesley, but right now is not the proper time." Barbara began backing out of the parking space.

  "I can't believe you're worried about what is proper and what isn't! How could you be like that? He's hurting, you saw that with your own two eyes. How could your heart not feel that?"

  "Keysha, I know he's hurting but you can't go sticking your nose in their business. His relationship with his mother is something we can't get involved with. I don't want you getting mixed up in that drama."

  "I'm already mixed up in it!" I snapped out. "I care about him."

  "I know that you care." Barbara was silent. I could almost hear her thinking. "He knows that you care."

  "Then let me go back," I said.

  "Keysha, I'm going to have to say no. You may not agree with my decision, but I am truly looking out for your best interests and your heart. Stay away from Wesley for a little while. At least until things settle down. Wesley and his family have a lot of old emotional wounds that need to heal." Barbara paused again. "Wesley and his mother really need to see a therapist."

  She continued to babble about how a desperate woman like his mother could do or say anything just for attention and she didn't want to draw any more attention to our family especially with a case pending against me. I folded my arms across my chest and mentally shut down. I didn't want to hear anything more that Barbara had to say.

  When we arrived home, I ran into my room, slammed the door shut, crashed on my bed and cried into my pillow.

  On Monday morning I rushed out of the house so that I could get to the school library. I was hoping that I'd run into Wesley. I walked all around the library searching for him but didn't see him. I sat down at one of the tables and tried to manage my feelings of frustration and anger, but it wasn't easy.

  "Hello, Keysha," I looked up and saw Miss Haskey standing in front of me.

  "Hey," I responded dryly.

  "Sugar, can I ask you a question?"

  "Miss Haskey, I don't have any late or damaged books. I—"

  "No, baby. Did you burn down your boyfriend's house?" she asked.

  "What?" I couldn't believe she'd asked such a question. "No! Where are you getting your information from?" I glared at her as if she'd lost her mind.

  "Well, I was in the bathroom and overheard some girls talking about how you were trying to cook something for him and ended up setting his house on fire. I caught a clip of the news this morning and heard something about a house burning up, so I thought—"

  "Miss Haskey." I stopped her midsentence. "That's a rumor."

  "Well, you certainly have a lot of rumors about you floating around."

  "Who were the girls you heard talking about this?" I demanded to know.

  "No, forget it. As long as it's a rumor, I'm going to let it go."

  "Wait a minute. Tell me who was saying this so that I can set the person straight!"

  "No." She flat-out denied my request. "You're not going to start a fight off of something I said," she explained. "Just relax and do your studying like you nor-mally do," she said, and walked away.

  There was no way I could study after hearing that, so I got up and left. As I made my way to my locker, I could hear people whispering about me, but I couldn't make out exactly what they were saying. I felt paranoid because it appeared as if everyone was staring at me. I stopped at my locker and began working the combination. The next thing I knew, a hand slammed against the locker next to me. The noise startled me. I looked up and saw Ed Daley, a former friend of Wesley's.

  "So you burned down my boy's house. What kind of crazy chick are you? Why would you set his house on fire?"

  "I didn't set his house on fire!"

  "That's not what I heard. Everyone around the school is talking about it. They say that you set his house on fire with charcoal lighter fluid because he was about to break up with you."

  "That is a damn lie!" I snapped at Ed. "Get away from me."

  "Where's Wesley?"

  "In his skin," I barked at Ed.

  "It's because of you, isn't it? You're the reason he changed. You're the one who has been filling his head with ideas about being a good student and staying sober. Well, let me tell you something, sister savior! Wesley is an alcoholic and will always be one. You'll see. I know Wesley better than anyone. Now that you've burned him out of his house, he's going to need a drink to help him get through it. And trust me, when he starts drinking again and gets back to his old self, he's going to kick you to the curb."

  "Get out of my face, Ed!" I said as I clenched my teeth.

  "Hey." He put his hands up and began backing away from me. "It is what is," he said, then began singing an old song from the 1980s just to annoy me. "The roof— the roof—the roof is on fire—" Ed said as moved farther away from me.

  The entire day at school was messed up. Everyone thought I'd burned down Wesley's house, and it was driving me crazy because I couldn't figure out who'd started the rumor until I saw Liz Lloyd during lunch.

  "Liz!" I hissed to myself. "She's behind all of this, I should've known." The moment I saw her, I became consumed with rage. Besides, I owed her another beat-down for splashing soda all over me. I dropped my book bag on the floor in the middle of the cafeteria and rushed over to Liz and her crew. I didn't plan on saying a word to her because I was through talking. It was my intention to walk up to her and just let my fists go. Curling my fingers, I made the tightest fist that I could. I was about to crush every bone in her face. I was a few steps away from Liz when Mr. Sanders, my guidance counselor, stopped me.

  "Keysha, there you are. I've been looking for you again."

  "What do you want now?" I was as angry as a firebreathing dragon. Liz heard the sound of my voice and looked up from her plate of food. She placed a look of defiance on her face and then stuck her tongue out at me. That did it. I tried to push Mr. Sanders out of my way but he stood planted like a tree.

  "Hey, slow down." He grabbed my arm just above my elbow. "What's the hurry?"

  "Mr. Sanders, you have no idea of what I'm going through at this school."

  "Well, that's what I'm here for. Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

  "No, I can handle it on my own," I snarled.

  "Well, answer this question for me."

  "What?" I focused on him briefly.

  "Do you know a person by the name of Justine Wiley?"

  "Justine." I paused. "That's my mother. She's in jail, though."

  "Well, I think she may be out because she called here asking all types of questions. She says that she's being denied her right to see you. Is this true?" he asked. At that moment the bell rang and the students began to exit the cafeteria. Mr. Sanders kept talking but I tuned him completely out. I focused on Liz. She stood up, winked at me and then gave me the middle finger with both of her hands. Liz walked out of the door and blended in with the crowd.

  "Can I go now?" I cut off Mr. Sanders midsentence. I needed to run back to pick up my book bag and then catch up with Liz so that I could beat her down.

  "Sure, but if you want to talk about this, you know where to find me."

  "Whatever," I said, and rushed over to my book bag, which was being kicked around. I finally picked it up and rushed out into the hallway, which was thinning out. I didn't see Liz so I started running toward my next class, but the late bell rang.

  "Dang it," I hissed. I had to turn and walk in the other direction toward the office so that I could pick up a tardy slip.