That Girl Is Poison (3 page)

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Authors: Tia Hines

BOOK: That Girl Is Poison
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As soon as she pulled into the driveway, she had a few choice words for me. “This hospital business was nonsense. Your mother knew you were going to be a problem child. That's why she gave you away. I tell you one thing—You better not ever step foot in this house saying you're pregnant because you will not be welcomed. The doors will be bolted shut, and you will be put out, point blank.”
Yeah, she gave it to me raw just like that. It didn't hurt my feelings though 'cause I knew better. Me pregnant? Please. I was too scared to get next to a boy, let alone have him touching me. She was beat on that note 'cause I wasn't coming home pregnant.
Don't get me wrong though. Her statement did strike a nerve. I didn't just shun it off all like that, especially the part about my mother not wanting me. I didn't know how much of it was true, but it hurt to hear it.
It was no big deal as usual. Life went on, and all I could do was cope. I had Uncle Frank to get me through somewhat, for whatever it was worth, but he was just as miserable as me. His witch would stop at nothing.
You should have seen the look my uncle gave her when she made that “pregnant” statement to me. It had death written all over it. He was about to comment, but just as quickly as his mouth opened, she was out of the car.
Bam
! The door slammed right in his face. Then she told him to find his own way in the house. She knew he needed help getting into his wheelchair.
That hurt my heart when she did that. I accepted her being cruel to me but not to my uncle. He was nothing but sweet to her, despite her ways. I started crying on that note.
“Desire, baby, please don't cry. Pay no attention to your aunt. She loves you. She really does. She's just bitter right now. It has nothing to do with you.”
I thought differently. I figured it had everything to do with me.
Uncle Frank put his head down then turned and looked at me in the backseat. A tear rolled down his cheek as he cleared his throat.
“Desire, I love that woman very much, and Lord knows, I couldn't do anything without her. She takes good care of me, you know. With my MS kicking in overtime and keeping me permanently in this wheelchair, I don't know what I would do without her. She used to be the sweetest woman I know, but I don't know what happened. I can't understand why she is so mean. It hurts me to see her treat you like this. But don't you for one second think that this was your fault. That boy should have never put his hands on you. Oh, God held me back because He knows what I was thinking wasn't right.”
I wanted to console my uncle, but I didn't know how.
“Come give me some love, and hug my neck.”
I climbed over the front seat and embraced my uncle with all my might. That was love right there, and as we hugged, I vowed that, from that day forth, he would be the only man I ever let touch me.
“Don't you worry about a thing. I am always by your side, no matter what. I just ask that you bear with me in dealing with my wife. She's a mean old lady right now, but I need her. We both need her.”
I didn't respond. I just kissed his cheek. We both didn't need her. He needed her, and I was just there, in the way, getting treated like a stepchild.
Uncle Frank said, “One more thing. Here, take this.” He handed me a business card that read
“
WoodSteel Stock Inc., James Taylor.
”
“That is your father's company. If you feel you want to call him, then do so. If not, then that's okay too. Just remember that you always have someone.”
I glanced at the card, not really paying it too much attention, and stuffed it in my back pocket. I hadn't thought about my father ever. I didn't have reason to. I had never met him. My mother had never mentioned anything about his existence, and I had never cared to ask. I didn't have to ask. Of course, he did cross my mind from time to time, but the thought of him wasn't strong enough to dwell on.
As I helped Uncle Frank out of the car, my aunt was watching from the window. You'd think she would have made an attempt to help, seeing that we were struggling, but she didn't. She just peeked out and watched. I took it personal the way she stared at us, especially me. I wanted to ask Uncle Frank why his wife despised me, but it definitely was not the time. Plus, I knew my place as a child.
Auntie Linda hated that my uncle had so much love for me. It made her feel like his love for her had diminished, especially since she couldn't have any children of her own. See, from what I knew, she and my uncle wanted children, but due to her having a health issue, she was unable to conceive. When I came to live with them, not being of her own flesh and blood, she felt as if I was intruding, like I had stolen her husband from her or something. After all, they were always a household of two, and there I was making it three. Yes, she wanted children, but she wanted her own, not me. And every chance she got, she let it be known that I was not what she wanted.
Chapter 3
After the incident at Jen's house, I was not allowed to go back over there, which was more than fine by me. What hurt though was that I had never heard from or spoke to Jen again. I wasn't allowed to contact her, but I thought she would have at least attempted to call me and find out what happened.
I knew she had an idea of what happened because my uncle had called and spoke to her mom. I don't know what the outcome was on Jen's side, but for me, their house was off-limits. I figured, since she didn't call, they didn't think I was telling the truth. I missed her, indeed, but I had to manage to get along by myself.
 
 
Seventh grade year, I started a new school, Boston Latin Academy. Me and Jen were supposed to be walking through that door together. From first to sixth grade, she and I were inseparable. We always attended the same school and ended up in the same class. I had never thought in a million years that she would become a dead memory with a painful afterthought. You may think I'm babbling too much or being too sensitive about the situation, but not having Jen around really hurt.
The thought of what her brother did to me was a solid memory on my mind, and somewhere along the line, I began to blame her. What her brother did wasn't her fault, but she was his sister—guilt by association.
My first day of school, I walked into the lunch room with my Goodwill outfit on and penny loafer shoes, looking like a reject from the '70s. I swear that aunt of mine made me wear that outfit on purpose. No other kid looked as cheap as me. It seemed like everybody had on the hottest gear, from the latest Jordan to the hottest Guess suit.
I stood for a minute and looked to see if I saw anyone I knew. Nope, not one familiar face whatsoever. So after accepting being alone, I found a spot in the corner, next to some kid who looked just as nervous and lonely as me. The only difference was, he had on name-brand everything.
I took a seat, got settled, and bit into my stale taco shell stuffed with undrained ground beef, soggy tomatoes, and brown, watery lettuce. I was ready to regurgitate every bite. I almost did too when this kid with bad breath got up in my face, pressing me with questions.
“What's your name? Desire, right? Can I get the hookup too?”
First of all, I had never seen the boy ever in my life. Second of all, how did he know my name? Third of all, what hookup? And last but not least, he needed to shove a few Altoids in his mouth before he continued to talk because, I swear, my eyes were watering.
I looked at him like he was crazy. “What are you talking about? And how do you know my name?”
“You know what I'm talkin' 'bout. Ya girl told me how you let her brother hit it. I wanna know how can I be down?”
I turned around to see who my so-called girl was, but I saw no familiar faces. “I don't know what you're talking about.”
Everyone around me started snickering. A few people yelled out I was lying. I had no idea who these people were or where they came from. I looked around again, on the verge of tears, but this time, not from his hot breath. Guess who I spotted as the dirty culprit? Jennifer Watson.
My ex-best friend was now my confirmed enemy. Seeing her brought up memories of what her brother had done to me. Tears trickled down my face. I went from flashbacks of being violated to the whorish statements of every loud and obnoxious kid in the lunch room.
For a moment, I didn't know where I was. I sat confused, trying to come to terms with being embarrassed in front of more than half of the seventh grade class. The provocative name-calling didn't stop either. I had to get away.
I got up and power-walked through the upperclassmen cafeteria. I had no idea where I was going, but I had to leave. It didn't really make a difference though, because a crowd followed me. I could have slit every one of their throats. Jen's especially, since she lied. Me and her brother did not have consensual sex. How could she do that to me?
I ran out of the upperclassmen lunch room, and some kid dashed behind me.
“Hey, what's wrong? Jada only said you were cool and that you give it up easy 'cause her brother already hit it.”
I cried even harder. Can you believe that bastard had the audacity to come chastise me about what that bitch Jen said? On top of that, the dummy didn't even say her name correctly.
I was so caught up in trying to get away from the “hackers,” I didn't realize my bag was open and most of my stuff had fallen out. I stopped to pick up my belongings, my vision blurry from the tears in my eyes. I spotted another hand going for my stuff, and I was just like,
Whatever. Take it.
I just wanted to get away.
Then someone tapped me on the shoulder. I flinched, scared.
“It's okay,” he said.
I looked up, and there stood this tall, brown skin, husky boy with long braids down to his shoulder.
“Here.” He handed me one of my books along with some pens and my calculator.
I snatched my stuff out of his hand and jammed it in my bag. I wiped my eyes and then stood up.
He handed me some tissue. “Are you okay?”
I didn't answer him. I wanted to know why, of all people, was he helping me and not joining in on the teasing.
“I understand if you don't want to say anything to me but—”
“You tryin'a get fresh meat too,
G
!”
“Scram, Ant!” my new friend said to the same idiot that had come up to me in the lunch room. “And have some respect for the beautiful young lady.”
Besides my uncle, no one had ever stuck up for me. It made me crack a smile inside.
“My fault, man. I didn't know you knew her.”
“Whatever. Leave her alone.”
Anthony scatted quickly, and I started walking away too, impressed.
“Hey, a thank-you would be nice.”
“Thank you,” I mumbled shyly.
“First days of school are hard.”
“I guess.”
“My name is Greg.”
I shook my head in acknowledgment.
“And your name is?”
“Desire,” I said softly, still trying to make my getaway.
He picked up his pace to keep up with me. “
Desire
—I like it. Who named you?”
“I don't know. My mother, I guess.”
“You guess? Girl, you need to stop guessing and know something.” Greg laughed.
I didn't even crack a smile.
“Dag, Desire. Lighten up. It can't be that bad.”
Oh, you'll soon find out.
“I hope you don't let them get to you, because they're all immature jerks.”
“I see.”
“You know what class you're going to now?”
“I guess.”
I laughed at my response.
“Uh-huh, see. There goes that pretty smile. I got it out of you.”
I blushed.
“Look at your schedule.”
I pulled out my schedule and looked at it, confused.
“Here, let me help you out, Desire.”
He loved to say my name. That was my Greg.
From that day forth, Greg was my new best friend. He was the only other man, at the time, besides my uncle, that I let into my heart. He tutored me in the subjects that I lacked proficiency in and made it a point to keep me focused. He was the big brother I never had, while I was the little sister he always wanted. Our relationship was just dynamite.
We talked about any and everything. I wasn't afraid to let him in either. I even broke down and told him about what happened with Jen's brother. You should have seen his face when he heard the story. His empathy for me was very sincere. It was amazing how he seemed to feel my pain. I think that's what really drew me into him. Shoooot, I talked about him so much, it nearly drove my uncle and aunt crazy. I was on a Greg rampage—Greg this, Greg that!
Auntie Linda didn't like it one bit either. She disliked him off the rip. She wouldn't even allow him to call the house. Her excuse was that he was too old, and that he only wanted one thing from me—sex. She kept throwing the rape incident in my face, saying that Greg was going to do the same thing, especially if I didn't just give it to him.
She was dead wrong though. He wasn't like that; he was different from the rest. He cared about me. He wasn't trying to get into my pants. He was my big brother from another mother. He had my back, and I wanted Auntie Linda to understand that, but she didn't. I wouldn't let her come between us though.
Greg was the highlight of my seventh grade year. I breezed through that grade with him as my only real friend. It's sad to say, but he was. I had other friends, but Greg warned me that they all weren't true. Some of them were actually cool people, while others were just trying to get close to him, since he was a star athlete and all. He was very popular, which meant everybody wanted to be his friend. Everybody. And if that meant going through me to get to him, then that's how low people stooped.
People came up to me constantly, out of the blue, trying to spark conversation. At first, I was naïve, but then I caught on. I shut them kind of folk down real quick. No problem ever surfaced from me doing that either. I only had one rock in my way—my enemy, Jen.
When we passed each other, we didn't utter a word. All we did was stare one another down. It didn't bother me at first, but as time went on, I felt as if she was taunting me, and it bothered the hell out of me. I wanted to fuck her up. Oh, and you know I did too, right in front of everybody at a damn funeral.

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