Crescent View High school was the most segregated school on the planet-- racially and socially. I didn’t understand why some people would separate themselves from others who were different from them. It wasn’t just the school, it was the whole town. But the school was probably known most for there cliques, or their disorder. The preps, the jocks, the goths, the cheerleaders, and the ghetto kids you name it. Everyone had there place, except me. I was a dancer, contemporary dancer. For an average African American, it wasn’t normal by any means. For once I was actually relieved to not be normal. Being different was more my style. Dancing was the only thing keeping me sane for a long time. My mom and I used to spend hours in the studio dancing; she was phenomenal and I wanted to be just like her. When I was younger I told her I wanted her and me to open a dance studio in New York, so we could show them how it’s really done. She took that dream away from me 6 years ago. She just left one morning without saying goodbye. She was dead to me, and if my father ever got a hold of her again, she would be. That’s when the hitting and the drugs started. I’ll never forget that.
I opened my locker and bent down. I rummaged through my locker as I searched for my math book and calculator.
“Hey sexy,”
My body jerked upwards as I felt a hand clutch my rear. I quickly turned around to see Bjorn grinning wildly. His vividly white teeth contrasted with his darker-than-midnight complexion. The smile was wiped off when I smack him across the face.
“Damn girl, chill!” he barked, rubbing his sore cheek.
“Don’t touch me!” I snapped and I slammed my locker. I asked my dad to transfer me to a different school a couple of times, kind of subconsciously hoping he would say no so I could stay with Chris but also awaiting a yes so I could get out of that hellhole!
I angrily dragged myself to my class and sat down.
“Ava, you’re late!” Mr. Matterson muttered in a sing-song voice. Just the sight of him aggravated me. Always slicked back with too much gel, his full head of charcoal hair was full of useless facts. His gray eyes would scan the classroom for tardiness and rule-breaking. He said he was French but I thought he was just a loser.
I leaned back in my desk and folded my arms, “Sorry...” I mumbled.
A whole day at this dump really drained all forms of energy from me. The curdling cheese-black meatball-not cooked pasta didn’t seem very appetizing to me today. Arguing with my “friends” took a lot of me too. They were stubborn- headed Latinas that only dated the guys that wanted nothing other than their bodies. Needless to say, Chris didn’t really fall into that category.
The blatant hellish bell for the end of the day was probably worse than standing next to the fire alarm, but at this point it was kind of soothing knowing that I wouldn’t have to hear it for the next two weeks.
The corner of my lips headed upwards as I was embraced by Chris. I pressed my lips against his and for that moment I couldn’t stop smiling. He pulled back and grinned.
“I missed you, ” I smiled
“What happened after I left last night?” he said between kissing me.
I tried to shake the thoughts of last night away, “Nothing, he was just really pissed!”
He saw straight through me. “Ava, if he’s hurting you-”
“Chris, I’m fine…really,”
He stared at me for a while trying to find maybe any distress in my expression. He ran his fingers up and down my arm and grinned sorrowfully.
“My parents are out of town for the week,” he said in a mischievous tone.
I grinned, “I guess you’re gonna be lonely then…”
I opened my locker and from the silence I received, that probably wasn’t the answer he was looking for.
“C’mon, I really don’t think it’s safe over there…” His solicitude was genuine but it was starting to aggravate me.
I placed my books in my backpack and closed it up, “I can handle myself; really, I have for a while now. Besides he hasn’t been home since Tuesday,”
“Ava, I just want spend some time with you, okay? So think about it and call me later.”
I sighed and watched him walk away. Escaping my house for a week was probably what I needed but I was afraid. What would happen when I returned? Would my house still be standing? Even though my father was really dreadful to me, he was blood and to me, I thought the extra effort to try and help wasn’t optional.
I swung my bag over my shoulder and headed home. The thought of going to Chris’ was starting to sound better and better when I recalled my brother coming home for vacation.
.
My brother was a statistic before he even turned fifteen. He was sleeping with girls, drinking and doing drugs. Not to mention, he was an exact replica of our father. We had the common sibling rivalry until I turned nine and everything changed. I used to look up to my brother back then and he would teach what I wanted to know.
Every morning, I saw him take these little white pills and I asked what they were for. He said it was to make him feel good, and he gave me some to try. For three months he continued to give me these pills, and I felt great except for the muscle twitching.
When he stopped giving them to me, I crashed. I was in bed for days and I was having seizures. Finally he took me to the hospital and I could see how scared he was. The doctor told me I was being withdrawn from Methamphetamine. That word didn’t really mean much to me then I was older to realize what my brother had done to me. And still to this day I still like holding a razor to my wrist or sticking my head in the trash compactor.
I opened the front door to the smiling twenty-three year old sprawled out on our couch.
“Hey babysis,”
