Outcast (29 page)

He promised to call me soon so we could get together, telling me that he needed to settle down first. I had no idea what that meant. I convinced myself I no longer cared.

The school year moved on, and I felt more tormented than ever. My anger took root under the surface, but I never let it show. I finally called Grace. I had nothing more to lose. She sounded rushed, too busy to talk.

“What do you want to talk about?” She sounded annoyed.

“How are you? How’s Henry?” I shied away from sharing any intimate details about my family troubles.

“We broke up.” I felt relieved when she recited those three words. Not because I was happy that their relationship ended, but because it explained her strange behavior.

“What happened?”

“He’s a dork. I don’t need someone like that ruining my reputation.”

“I thought you liked him.”

“Yeah, well…”

“Did something happen?” Silence saturated the phone line. I knew she wanted to tell me all the details. It wasn’t like her to remain secretive.

“No, I just got sick of him. I have to go. We’re…” she paused, thinking of an excuse. “We’re going out to dinner tonight.”

Maybe it was time to admit that Grace and I weren’t friends anymore.   

When I wasn’t in school, I was with
Chad
. He became my savior. I spent so much time at his house that his parents learned more about me than my own mother knew.
Chad
told them about my father leaving, and I think they felt sorry for me.

I ate most dinners with them, helping Mrs. McCormick cook and clean up. I felt embraced and accepted for who I was. I wanted to be a part of their family. They seemed so normal.

Chad
drove me home around nine o’clock at night. The moment I stepped into the foyer, my mother laid into me.

“Where have you been?”

“It’s 9:20,” I said. “It’s not even late.” I headed toward my room.

My mother’s voice trailed me. “You are not to leave this house again. Not until you get your grades up.”

I turned with an eye roll. “Not even for school?” I asked sarcastically.

“Don’t get smart, Noelle or…”

I waited for her to finish. “Or what?”

She just stared at me.

“That’s what I thought,” I told her.

Now that Becca and my father were gone, she criticized me for everything. Nothing about me was good enough for her. I wore too much makeup, my hair looked too wild, I stayed out too late, and my grades were too low. Everything was
too
something. I finally grew tired of hearing her find fault with me.

“The minute I hit eighteen, I am
so
out of here.”

“Good.”

She pretended she wanted me to leave. Never mind the fact that she condemned me for staying away too much.

“Once I’m gone, you’re going to be all alone, and all you’ll have is that fucking church.”

She snatched hold of my wrist and pulled me closer. There was a fiery look in her eyes as her fingers cinched me so tightly it hurt. I tried to wrench free.

“Don’t you ever say that! Do you hear me?”

I tried to twist out of her grasp, but she was surprisingly strong.

“Do you?” she asked, her fingernails clawing my skin.

For some reason, tears brimmed. “Fine,” I said.

Before I let her see me cry, I dashed out of the house. I ran several blocks before I became winded. It had been ages since I jogged in the mornings. I supposed smoking didn’t help either. I walked to the Circle K and called
Chad
. I only had a dollar fifty with me, which was not even enough to purchase a pack of cigarettes. I opted for a Kit
Kat and a Pepsi while I sat on the curb, waiting for him to arrive. She terrorized me because I told the truth. I hated her.  

Chad
drove me back to his house where I stayed the night. I crawled into his arms where he comforted me with kisses, with his arms, with sex.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, his fingers like angels on my skin.

“Yeah,” I answered, staring up at the ceiling as if it would open up onto the heavens—a sea of stars—and help me find the answers I needed in the constellations.

We lay together in his bed and he held me, caressed all m
y troubles
away. Staying with him became another habit. Of course, he never told his parents. Rather than finding strength within myself,
Chad
buoyed me with love, and his history with Trina slowly dissolved.

Another Homecoming. There seemed no way around it. Another game, another dance.
Chad
wanted to go to both since it was our senior year.

I had no money for a dress. I considered going to a thrift store to find one, but Aunt P firmly disapproved. Aware of the trouble with my mother, she stepped in. I was now her ally.

P took me shopping on the day of the dance.

“You’re not going anywhere,” my mother said. “You’re grounded.”

“Oh no?” I rolled my eyes and headed for the door. “Watch me.”

“Get back here,” she yelled.

She threw a candleholder, missing me and nicking the door. I heard her screams and protests as I headed down the driveway. My nerves buzzed with the energy of the confrontation. I wanted to cry, but I didn’t.

At the mall, P and I picked out a black matte jersey dress with a bare midriff. It was revealing, especially since the skirt had a slit that finally closed at mid-thigh. My mother would have had a coronary. I’m sure the word
prostitute
would have easily slid from her lips. But P thought it was sexy. She also purchased a pair of spangled, loop earrings and Nine West shoes to match it. I suggested that we shop the clearance racks, but she insisted on the best.

After our shopping spree, she drove me to Le Mirage Hair and Massage. Her hairdresser, Max, tidied my style and lightened the color. He smoothed it into a subdued bob and clipped my bangs with a sparkling barrette. Shenai, the makeup artist, decorated my face and painted a glittery butterfly around my navel. When she finished her work, Goldie gave me a manicure and pedicure. P put the final touches on the guise by selecting a bottle of glittered lotion that would have me sparkling the entire night. I felt totally pampered, and I loved it. The bill must have been astronomical, but P never said a word.  

I dressed at P’s house. She ordered in Tai food and had fun assisting me in my preparations for the dance. She even let me to borrow her Fendi handbag.

“Stunning,” was all she said when I turned to face her. Tears prickled the edges of her eyes.

Chad
picked me up at her house, so P finally met him. She went to the door while I nervously waited to make my grand entrance. P stood on ceremony. She insisted that a woman never greet her date at the door. I wondered what she did with her dates when she was the only one in the house to answer the bell.

As I waited for my cue, I heard their chattering voices and laughter downstairs and
knew they instantly connected.

Chad
’s smile waxed when he saw me at the top of the stairs. I forgot how careless I grew with my appearance around him. He was accustomed to seeing me in jeans, T-shirts, and school uniforms.

“Wow! You look—wow!”

P winked and lifted her mouth into a devilish smile. I kissed her goodbye, and she gushed with emotion at the small show of affection.

“He’s great,” she whispered. “And very cute.”

Chad
took my hand and led me to his freshly-waxed car. Even after dating for so long, he still tried to impress me.

I relished the way he looked adoringly at me as though I was the only girl around. I felt like a woman, no longer a little girl playing dress-up in her mother’s closet. Though, for me, it would be more like Aunt P’s closet.

I clung to
Chad
like a child to a security blanket. He was mine. He helped me get through troubled times and somehow made me feel safe. I left his side only to run to the ladies’ room, then come back. I wanted to look my best for him, to be the only girl in the room for him.

In the bathroom, I touched up my lipstick, fingered the ends of my hair for show. I gazed into the mirror. Who was the girl staring back at me? She resembled me, but I didn’t recognize her. Even the freckles, the one characteristic that defined her, were hidden under a mask of makeup and false illusions. Even before the dance, before the physical changes of the night, I felt different. Even without the clothing, hair color, and makeup, I was not the same. What happened to me? What happened to the person I thought I knew?

I felt a tinge of anxiety. So much had occurred over the summer. I desperately needed a cigarette. I no longer had the money to pay Cassie for them. I rarely saw her to receive a charity package anyway. She spent all of her time with record-store Pete.

I went outside. I thought the fresh air would provide a substitute for the tobacco and nicotine. Another student, a guy in a jacket and tie, secretly smoked alone under the eaves of the building.

“Can I have one?” I asked.

“Sorry,” he said, holding up the butt of his. “Last one.”

“Mind if I stand with you?” I added, so he wouldn’t think I was a freak while drinking in the second-hand smoke.

“Whatever.”

I hung out with him, hoping the second-hand smoke would satisfy my craving. It didn’t.

“See ya,” he said, throwing the butt with the lit cherry into the gravel landscaping. I watched it glow like a firefly in the crumbled stone. A light stream of vapor curled into the air like smoke signals. I looked to the door he entered to make sure he was out of sight before rushing to the abandoned stub. I hunkered down and retrieved it. There was only enough left for one drag, maybe two. I cherished it, putting it to my lips like found drops of water in a parched desert. I justified it by telling myself it was no different than sharing a glass or a kiss with him. The nicotine calmed me, and I went back inside.

As I made my way to the outskirts of the gym, I doused my mouth with breath spray.
Chad
begged me to quit smoking, so I attempted to make an effort. I teetered on the border of the room, self-conscious of being alone. Grace had stayed home after breaking up with Henry. I couldn’t rely on her anyway because Trina held her under a trance. She waved her popularity like a wand and placed a hex on Grace. I lacked the energy to exorcise her.

I searched for
Chad
. Some couples shuffled to a ballad while others lined the edges of the dance floor.

It didn’t take me long to find him. But when I did, I saw he wasn’t alone. He was with Trina. I watched from a distance, studying their covert behavior, wondering what they were discussing. Ruby pangs of anger lodged themselves in the pit of my stomach. They stood a little too close to one another, looked a little too intimate. Suspicion stalked through my thoughts, a wildcat preying on my mind. I wanted to snatch him away from her, out of her reach where she could never touch him again. They shared a history together, no matter how short. I thought the memory of it had dissipated from my mind, but I was wrong.

Their conversation seemed unending.
Chad
didn’t spend that much time talking to me. I conjured thoughts in my head about the two of them re-igniting what I caused them to lose. The bonfire of my considerations smoldered out of control. Instead of stifling the destruction it bred in me, I poked at it with my imagination until I branded visualizations in my mind. The only reason they spoke so long was because they wanted to rekindle things. Perhaps they already had.

They laughed together, and I knew I had to be the butt of their joke. Trina rested her hand on
Chad
’s arm, leaning into him. I examined every touch and gesture, trying to interpret what it meant.

Chad
looked around, then finally led Trina to the dance floor. My emotions turned like a hurricane, and I was in the eye of the storm. Watching
Chad
curl his arm around her waist, knowing Trina stood close enough to him to smell the scent of his cologne, made me reel. Why would he do this to me? I hated Trina. He should hate her, too. Or was his love for me a lie like just about everything else in my life?

I studied them: his hand on her back, her eyes lifted to his in anticipation,
Chad
not looking away. Then, just as I was about to head over to break up their party, Trina leaned in and planted a kiss right on his mouth. And he let her. Anyone would have believed they were a couple. I wanted to tear her heart out and throw it through the basketball hoop.
A pound of flesh
.

I felt sick. I ran from the gymnasium into the cool autumn air. I couldn’t stick around for an explanation—of why he didn’t immediately push her away, or why he asked her to dance in the first place. I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt the water careen off my cheeks. I had no idea where to go. Home was out of the question. I couldn’t take my mother. Not after that. Most of my time was spent with
Chad
. I didn’t know who to turn to.
God
, I thought,
how could he betray me this way?

I wandered into the dirt parking lot, ruining the spangled shoes that Aunt P picked out. Aunt P. I considered calling her, but didn’t want her to know the starlit night she dreamed of fell under a carpet of blackness. I felt totally alone. I knew it was too good to be true. The girl with the glasses and freckles, the girl who was such a loser in junior high, could never be with a good-looking guy like
Chad
. No matter how much I tried to disguise her, she would never go away. Trina was right about one thing: wearing contact lenses wasn’t going to change anything. Neither was a new haircut, a fancy outfit, or powder on my face. Nothing. I leaned against a Toyota Prius and cried. Not even a pack of cigarettes would perk me up now. Nothing would make this any better.

As we cruised south on the 101 freeway,
Camelback
Mountain
stuck to the blueberry sky like a construction paper cutout. Rage Against the Machine throbbed like a violent heartbeat, and the smell of smoke flooded the Porsche. Translucent clouds of pot circled the vehicle compartment.

I sat in the back seat, hugging the window. Pete, who sparked the joint, rode shotgun next to Cassie. She was the only one who I felt comfortable calling. I knew she wouldn’t over-dramatize the night’s events. She just wanted to have fun.

Pete knew of a party near ASU. They invited me. When Pete first saw me in my Homecoming dress, his eyes slid all the way up the slit. I already knew he opened it completely in his mind. I didn’t care. Obviously he didn’t realize how much of a loser I was.

Pete passed the joint back to me. I took a deep drag on it, closing my eyes and holding the smoke long enough for it to ease the picture in my mind of
Chad
undressing Trina in his bedroom. When I opened my eyes, Pete watched me. I held the roach clip out to him.

We arrived in
Tempe
around nine o’clock. The party was in the heart of the downtown, college area. Cassie parallel parked in front of an elaborate adobe. A few vehicles littered the driveway and curb. I grew nervous at the thought of mingling with college students. I was only used to the high-school scene where conversations were limited to gossip and HBO.

The bass of the music thundered outside the house. On the front porch, a group of people drank beer and smoked cigarettes. I felt the burn of their eyes as they watched Cassie and me walk up the stairs with Pete. I felt out of place in my Homecoming dress, but didn’t care. There were bigger things to worry about, if I allowed myself. Both the guys and girls scrutinized me from head to foot; from one gender it was complimentary, from the other it was cold cat eyes. I was beyond overdressed.

“What up, Pete my man?” A guy with swells of thick, dark hair called to him. In what seemed to be a natural gesture, he handed a beer to Pete. Cassie took it from him and gave it to me. “We need to cheer you up.”

“Who’re your friends?” the guy asked.

“This is my girlfriend Cassie and her friend Noelle. This is Bob.”

Bob appeared to be a friendly guy, maybe because of his smile. He grinned widely, revealing a full set of plaster-cast teeth.

“Way to go.” He slapped Pete on the shoulder blades and returned to the group.

“He wishes,” Cassie interjected. 

Cassie and Pete moved inside. I lingered behind, swallowing mouthfuls of beer before following them. Bob gave me a devilish wink, and then I went in.

Cassie and Pete immediately abandoned me. I decided to sit at the corner of the couch. A brunette with clear hazel eyes sat next to me, but leaned forward to talk to a mousy-looking redhead. Both nursed beer bottles. I monitored the slit in my skirt, knowing it revealed too much.

“It was psychologically profound the way she characterized the main character.” The brunette shouted her opinions over the music.

The redhead nodded.

“It’s full of mythology and metaphor, especially with the rooster.”

“I know,” the redhead pretended. She noticed me listening to their conversation and gestured my way. The brunette pivoted in her chair.

“Hey.” She looked me over. “We were just discussing Black Women’s Literature. You look familiar. Are you in the program?” She continued to yell over the music.

“No.”

“My name’s Tori. This is Sheila.”

Sheila gave a barely discernible wave.

“Want another beer?” Her question made me realize my bottle was already empty.