That Girl Is Poison (4 page)

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Authors: Tia Hines

BOOK: That Girl Is Poison
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Chapter 4
By the beginning of eighth grade year, I was one of the most popular girls in school and too hot to trot. It was crazy how fully developed I was at age thirteen. I was five four, a size six, and wearing a thirty-six-DD bra. Not to brag or anything, but my body was shaped like Serena Williams'. No lie. I had no shame in flaunting all of it either. The boys loved it. What can I say? Well, not all the boys, 'cause Greg wasn't too keen on that idea at all.
Yes, my popularity went to my head, and I was in the midst of all drama, which gave me first dibs on all the new gossip. Greg couldn't stand it. He despised being the center of attention as well as the he said-she said stuff. He made it clear that if I was to hang around with him, then there was going to be a change.
I got involved with extracurricular activities, which led to track becoming my new best friend. Running track became a passion of mine. I was happy Greg had introduced me to it. It kept me grounded, and I loved that it was a stress reliever, something I definitely needed in my life of horror.
Nonetheless, I didn't lose all my popularity ties, especially being a track star. Yup, I was burning rubber in my spikes. And guess who hated it with a passion? Jen. At least that was the word around school. I didn't care though. She was only mad that I had defeated her at her own game. She thought she was going to win popularity when she told those guys that I was easy and that I had slept with her brother. Wrong! I taught her a lesson—God don't like ugly. Our staring battles created so much tension between us that the entire school knew we had it out for each other.
Greg told me to let it ride though. He had a strict rule for unnecessary fighting, saying, “There's fighting for defense, and then there's the fight that is just not worth it.” In his theory, unnecessary fighting proved and solved nothing; it was just violence that served no purpose whatsoever. I didn't agree, but the majority of the time, he was right. I mean, an eighth grader versus a senior—who had more sense? I should have listened though, but you know I had to learn the hard way.
One night, after attending a track meet, I decided to take public transportation home. I was supposed to get on the free yellow bus that took the team back to the school, but I took a detour. My friends had pumped me up to fight Jen, and I didn't want to look like a punk, but I really did want to fight Jen. I lied to Greg, but he didn't believe my story, of course, about going to Ruggles to get beef patties. He was no fool. He knew those girls I was hanging with had been pumping my head up to fight Jen. That's why he told me to get my behind on that yellow bus, but I ignored him and went about my business.
Me and my new friends got to Ruggles Station and waited for Jen. After we waited for the broad for about thirty minutes, we concluded she was going to be a no-show. I wanted to wait a few more minutes, but my homies were ready to bail. So, that was that. We parted and went to our separate bus stops.
I was standing alone waiting for my bus to come, and next thing you know, I was hemmed up in a choke hold by some dude. Then these girls from my school who called themselves “Molly's Crew” appeared out of nowhere and started punching and kicking me, getting some good licks in. I tried to fight back, but dude had me on lock. I screamed for help, kicking and punching the air, hoping someone would come to my rescue. I mean, it was only but a million people, grown folk at that, waiting on buses. They saw I was getting my ass beat and just stood there.
The torture kept coming too. I noticed the girls that had come to Ruggles with me were standing around watching. Can you believe that? Then Jennifer, who I originally went to the station for, showed up and joined in.
My lips swelled instantly, and my right eye was already black and blue. You don't know how badly I wanted to break out of that choke hold and whup some ass. All of a sudden, Greg appeared out of nowhere and tackled dude to the ground. Then finally I was released. Of course, they started fighting, and Molly and her crew made their getaway, with Jen tagging behind.
I watched out of one eye as Greg and the dude tussled. I didn't know what to do. To be honest, I couldn't do anything. I wanted to break up the fight, but Greg was handling his. Dude was getting a good ass-whuppin'. Blood flew from his mouth with every blow Greg socked him with. I thought Greg was going to break dude's jaw, until some older guys intervened and pulled Greg off the dude.
“Chill out, chill out, youngblood.”
“Nah, fuck that! Don't no bitch nucca sucker punch me,” the dude rambled, trying to come at Greg.
“Sucker punch? Come on now, it was fair game. You got your ass beat. Take it like a man.”
“Nah, this ain't over.”
“Come on, youngblood, he's right. Take your whuppin' like a man and keep it moving. You can't win every fight.”
“Nah, ain't no bitch nucca gonna sucker punch me and think he won.”
“A'ight, you know what? Hit me. Hit me, and I'll fall to the ground. You take the win, and this is squashed.”
“Fuck you!”
“I don't have time for this ignorance.” Greg shook his head and began walking away.
“Yeah, turn your back bitch!”
Greg stopped, turned around and began walking back toward the dude. He stood directly in his face. He was so close to the dude, their lips almost kissed.
“You're the bitch, holding my sister down so them little chickenhead girls can jump her.”
Homeboy jumped at Greg, but Greg didn't flinch. He stood there eyeing down dude. Then Greg broke the stare and walked over to my aid as I was hunched over, holding my stomach.
“Yeah, nucca, walk yo' bitch ass away.”
Greg turned back around like he was irritated and walked back over to the dude. “Listen, I ain't the one for all this fighting mess. Let's just squash this, man. I didn't mean any harm. I was just defending my little sister, a'ight.”
Dude sucked his teeth, reached in his jeans, and pulled out a black steel 9 mm.
“Fuck a squash! I ain't squashing shit!” The dude pointed the gun at Greg's third eye.
“Come on, youngblood, he's right. This ain't the way you solve things. Put that gun away.”
“Nah, fuck that! He should have never put his hands on me. That's where he made his mistake.”
Greg stood still, no expression on his face. “Man, put that gun away. We ain't even gotta go there,” he said, a little throttle in his voice.
“We'll see.” Homeboy laughed, tucking the gun away back inside his pants. “I'll see you,” he said, running away.
Greg just stood there for a minute without saying anything or moving an inch. I guess he was in shock and angry. I knew for sure though, he was furious with me. This was the first time ever too. That's what happens when you're a hardheaded fool like me. You get people who care about you upset, and boy, was Greg upset.
“Come on, Desire.”
He began walking as I limped beside him. He flagged down a cabbie, who was reluctant to stop at first, but Greg assured the driver he was just trying to get me home safely. The driver understood and took us on our merry way. We sat in silence almost the entire ride. I wanted to say something, but I was too scared, especially since Greg hadn't spoken two words to me. He was really heated, and I couldn't blame him. I'd lied to him, and it resulted in a beat-down for me and a threat toward him.
“Desire, I am so mad at you right now, you don't even know the half.”
“I'm sorry,” I expressed sadly.
“Sorry? That's it?” he yelled. “Those girls could have done worse to you, and this knucklehead had the opportunity to shoot me right then and there. Aw man . . . that was . . . nothing like that has ever happened to me before. I told you! I told you! Why do you like finding out things the hard way?”
“I didn't know I was going to get jumped.”
“Nobody knows when they are going to get jumped, Desire. Gosh, look at you. No female should look like this.” He moved in closer to me. “You feel okay?” he asked, toning down his anger.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Of course, you guess.” He laughed.
I cracked a smile and scooted closer to him.
He gently hugged me, as I cried in his arms, ashamed that I had disappointed him. Of all people, I had failed Greg, the one person who hadn't failed me.
“Don't cry, Desire. Just listen to me, please. I will never steer you wrong. When I tell you things, trust that what I'm telling you is for your own good. Okay?”
“Yes.”
We arrived at my house, and when I walked in the door, Uncle Frank quickly wheeled to my aid.
“Oh my goodness! What happened to you?”
“I was supposed to—”
“She got jumped by some girls at Ruggles Station.”
“Some girls? Why? What were you doing at Ruggles Station?”
I looked at Greg, and he gave me that you-owe-me-one look.
“What's going on in here?” Auntie Linda asked, appearing from the kitchen.
“Some girls jumped on Desire,” Uncle Frank answered.
“I'm sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Jones. It was my fault because I asked Desire to wait for me at the station, but unfortunately while she was waiting, some girls jumped on her. I'm extremely sorry.”
Uncle Frank sat there with a look of disbelief on his face. I think he had a hunch Greg was covering for me.
“Thank you, ah . . . ”
“Greg. My name's Greg.”
“Oh Greg. I kind of figured. Finally we meet in person.” Uncle Frank shook Greg's hand.
“Sorry under these circumstances,” Greg apologized.
“Oh no. I appreciate you bringing her home.”
“No problem, sir.”
“Oh, cut the shit! This is your fault, Greg. Don't think because my husband is thanking you that you ain't the blame. What you got a little girl waiting for you for at this time of night by herself? You probably had something to do with this mess.”
“Ma'am, I assure you I had nothing to do with what happened to Desire. It's my fault, yes, because I asked her to wait for me, and I apologize. But I would never plan for something like this to happen to her. She's like my—”
“Like your what? Guinea pig? Get out of my house and stay away from Desire!”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“It's not his fault. It's my—”
“Girl, you better hush up before you get popped again in your busted lip.”
“Linda, please . . . the young man brought her home safely. He didn't have to do that.”
“Like hell he didn't!”
“Linda, you're talking crazy now. This boy—”
“It's okay, sir. I'm leaving. You all, have a good night.”
Can you believe my aunt? She never wanted to see me happy. And Uncle Frank, man, I wish he had a backbone to shut his wife down. I wanted to take a stand myself and give my aunt a good cursing out, but I wasn't stupid. My ass knew better. Disrespecting your elders was a no-no. That was grounds for a good whuppin'.
In some kind of way though, I needed her. I didn't like knowing this, but it was true. And Uncle Frank could only do so much for me. She was the bread of the household, Uncle Frank was the edges, and I was the crumbs. Yeah, that's exactly how I saw it. Pitiful, right?
I got my war wounds cleaned up by whom else, Auntie Linda. She put her old-school doctor skills to work. She even talked regular to me, as if she was a paramedic, advising me on how I was going to feel in the morning and what to continue to do.
See, that was the caring Auntie Linda, the one I grew up knowing. I guess it was good times while it lasted. What can I say? I enjoyed the moment.
But then she shattered my world with a quick Greg alert. “You listen to me, Desire, and you listen to me good. You stay away from that Greg boy. I'm keeping you out of school for a couple of days until your face clears up, but when you return, Greg is off-limits. He already can't call here, and now you are not allowed to be anywhere near him. I'm going to call the school and let them know. He ain't nothing but trouble. Do you understand?”
“But, Auntie—”
“Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Come again.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
I hate you so much right now.
Auntie Linda left me with a feeling that burned a hole inside of me. I couldn't even form into words what it felt like to hear her say, “No more Greg.” Was she buggin', or was she on crack? My Gregory wasn't trouble, she was the trouble. Greg took care of me. That was my bro right there. Why was she hatin'? And you know what sucked? As much as I hated her, I still had to abide by her rules. It was hard, but I did it, to a certain extent.

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