like you, Pretty Girl.”
I flinch when Blinky calls her Pretty Girl. Not just flinch but my shoulders tighten up to the point that I feel a sharp ache streak through my body. That’s what happens when I get stressed. But I ignore my pain and tear open red Kool-Aid packets and empty them. Then I pour in gallon after gallon of bottled water that’s lined up next to the pitchers. I do all this like I’m really gung ho about making Kool-Aid. It’s like no matter how horrible or angry you feel inside, you have to learn how to control your emotions. You can’t let your enemy know something is bothering you, or else they may think they’re more powerful than you.
“Mmmm,” I say with a giant, fake smile. “I love your potato salad. Make sure and save me some.” This is my first time talking to the skank since Friday evening, when she got me to style her stupid hair.
Marlene sighs really loud like she’s irritated by my voice and announces, “Hey, everybody, there’s someone I want you to, um, meet, if you want to think of it that way.” She throws back her head and giggles, then disappears from the patio. She quickly steps back inside the house through the sliding glass door.
“Girl, close the door all the way so flies won’t get in the house,” I bark, even though I’m sure Marlene can’t hear me. Alita and I lock eyes and smile. Alita moves one hand and positions it to her right side like she’s one of Charlie’s Angels. I laugh. She is forcing me to remember the self-defense moves that we’ve learned.
My laughing ceases when Marlene walks back through the door. She’s leading Jeff by the hand. My ex is the color of gingerbread. His lips are thick, wide, and smooth, somewhat like J.J. Walker’s from Good Times . Lips that thick are perfect for sensuous, hour-long kissing. I notice that he appears calm, not nervous as hell like he should be looking.
“Is that Jeff? We ain’t seen you in a bit, dude. How are you doing?”
I can’t believe my daddy is acting nice and hospitable like this. Doesn’t he remember Jeff used to come to family functions with me?
“I’m doing as well as can be expected.”
What’s that supposed to mean? I lock eyes with Alita. She looks as confused as I am.
“Actually,” Jeff speaks up as if reading my mind, “lately things have been going surprisingly well. Like I have a sudden burst of new energy.”
Marlene is standing next to Jeff with her head held high. She’s grinning, for God’s sake. Like she’s proud she’s out doing me. She always tried to outdo me when we were younger.
I remember when we’d go to family reunions. Although there would be dozens of cousins running around screaming and having fun, doing relay races, and playing team-oriented games like kickball, I would always be the one she wanted to beat. It would strike me as strange that I was the perceived enemy instead of all my rowdy, bragging, loud-talking older cousins who were from out of town and across the way.
Jeff finally gives me direct eye contact. “Rachel, what’s up? Hey, Alita.”
“Yo, Jeff, come give me a hug.” That’s Alita. She may talk about him behind his back, but she is one to act civilized when the situation warrants it.
“Alita?” I whisper.
“Shhh, I know what I’m doing,” she whispers back and steps up to Jeff and offers him a hug.
Jeff wraps his arms around Alita but curiously eyes me while he embraces my friend. The way he stares at makes me feel warm and gooey. I miss feeling his arms slide tight around my waist, gripping me close and pulling me near so I can rest against his warm body. I yearn for that wonderful feeling of security. There’s nobody to blame but myself.
Marlene coughs loudly then physically pries Alita and Jeff apart.
“That’s enough,” she tells them, irritated.
“Watch that, sista,” Alita says, and walks away.
“No, you watch it … sista.”
“She’s gotta be kidding,” Alita says and resumes helping me make the
I flinch when Blinky calls her Pretty Girl. Not just flinch but my shoulders tighten up to the point that I feel a sharp ache streak through my body. That’s what happens when I get stressed. But I ignore my pain and tear open red Kool-Aid packets and empty them. Then I pour in gallon after gallon of bottled water that’s lined up next to the pitchers. I do all this like I’m really gung ho about making Kool-Aid. It’s like no matter how horrible or angry you feel inside, you have to learn how to control your emotions. You can’t let your enemy know something is bothering you, or else they may think they’re more powerful than you.
“Mmmm,” I say with a giant, fake smile. “I love your potato salad. Make sure and save me some.” This is my first time talking to the skank since Friday evening, when she got me to style her stupid hair.
Marlene sighs really loud like she’s irritated by my voice and announces, “Hey, everybody, there’s someone I want you to, um, meet, if you want to think of it that way.” She throws back her head and giggles, then disappears from the patio. She quickly steps back inside the house through the sliding glass door.
“Girl, close the door all the way so flies won’t get in the house,” I bark, even though I’m sure Marlene can’t hear me. Alita and I lock eyes and smile. Alita moves one hand and positions it to her right side like she’s one of Charlie’s Angels. I laugh. She is forcing me to remember the self-defense moves that we’ve learned.
My laughing ceases when Marlene walks back through the door. She’s leading Jeff by the hand. My ex is the color of gingerbread. His lips are thick, wide, and smooth, somewhat like J.J. Walker’s from Good Times . Lips that thick are perfect for sensuous, hour-long kissing. I notice that he appears calm, not nervous as hell like he should be looking.
“Is that Jeff? We ain’t seen you in a bit, dude. How are you doing?”
I can’t believe my daddy is acting nice and hospitable like this. Doesn’t he remember Jeff used to come to family functions with me?
“I’m doing as well as can be expected.”
What’s that supposed to mean? I lock eyes with Alita. She looks as confused as I am.
“Actually,” Jeff speaks up as if reading my mind, “lately things have been going surprisingly well. Like I have a sudden burst of new energy.”
Marlene is standing next to Jeff with her head held high. She’s grinning, for God’s sake. Like she’s proud she’s out doing me. She always tried to outdo me when we were younger.
I remember when we’d go to family reunions. Although there would be dozens of cousins running around screaming and having fun, doing relay races, and playing team-oriented games like kickball, I would always be the one she wanted to beat. It would strike me as strange that I was the perceived enemy instead of all my rowdy, bragging, loud-talking older cousins who were from out of town and across the way.
Jeff finally gives me direct eye contact. “Rachel, what’s up? Hey, Alita.”
“Yo, Jeff, come give me a hug.” That’s Alita. She may talk about him behind his back, but she is one to act civilized when the situation warrants it.
“Alita?” I whisper.
“Shhh, I know what I’m doing,” she whispers back and steps up to Jeff and offers him a hug.
Jeff wraps his arms around Alita but curiously eyes me while he embraces my friend. The way he stares at makes me feel warm and gooey. I miss feeling his arms slide tight around my waist, gripping me close and pulling me near so I can rest against his warm body. I yearn for that wonderful feeling of security. There’s nobody to blame but myself.
Marlene coughs loudly then physically pries Alita and Jeff apart.
“That’s enough,” she tells them, irritated.
“Watch that, sista,” Alita says, and walks away.
“No, you watch it … sista.”
“She’s gotta be kidding,” Alita says and resumes helping me make the
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