Shattered Chances: A Breaking Black Companion Novel (5 page)

MandyMayhem: No he showed up.

AshleyLUVSAnthony19: They’re hopeless.

MandyMayhem: At least my guy knows i exist ;)

AshleyLUVSAnthony19: :(

Suddenly an instant message came in from someone I didn’t recognize.

MVP1112: Hey

CheyC311: Hey yourself

MVP1112: Do you know who i am?

CheyC311: You’re about to be blocked.

MVP1112: Cold! Betcha if you knew who I was you’d be nice ;)

CheyC311: ………

CheyC311:This better not be that creep from tonight…

MVP1112: I was quite charming, i’ll have you know.

CheyC311: Hi Randy :)

MVP1112: P.S. Your profile still says single.

CheyC311: I’ve been home like ten minutes.

Out of curiousity, I went to check his. Lo and behold he had already changed it. Under relationship status it read: Taken.

9.

Randy

I barely got any sleep last night, my mind was racing from the day’s events. I tried talking to Tim about it, but he was useless, playing his NHL 98 game on the PlayStation and giving horrible advice such as, “Next time, avoid rides that you are petrified of.”

Averi was on the phone with some guy again, and didn’t hang up til 9:30. I was going to call Cheyenne, but I decided I’d log online instead. I wish I could have seen her face when I sent the first message. Once I was done talking to her, I hit up my cousin Paul from Minnesota. He was like a brother to me, and gave much better advice than Tim did. To be fair, he did have a lot more experience with the ladies, too. Paul is three years older than I am, and he is my father’s sister’s son. My Dad is originally from Minnesota. I’m glad he decided to move to Texas, because Minnesota sounds too damn cold for me. Paul gave me the third degree, worse than Cheyenne’s dad… but that was to be expected.  Eventually I just started to ignore him.

PaulF117: Did she hear you crying?

PaulF117: Like a girl…

PaulF117: Are you ignoring me

MVP1112: You’re worse than my brother sometimes...

PaulF117: Next time, tell her you are only equipped to handle the teacups.

My reputation precedes me.

I’m not a chicken. I swear. I just do not like being swung around in a basket feeling like I’m about to fly out. On the ground, I have no fear.

Shortly after, I logged off the computer after Paul congratulated me on landing my first girl friend. (She’s not my first.) I spent a while deep in thought. My brother and sister often comment that I don’t spend a lot of time in my own head, but that’s not true. Sometimes I think I am the only person who sometimes gets me. Until today. Cheyenne is on my wave length.

I laid back on my bed, bouncing my tennis ball off the ceiling. (This always annoys Averi, so I make a note to do it louder each night.) I couldn’t get my mind off of those eyes. Cheyenne’s eyes were of the deepest blue veiled under the longest set of eyelashes I have ever seen. Her gorgeous eyes, which had lit up so easily when I told a joke, made me want to cut myself when she recounted her mother’s suicide attempt. She was an enigma, a beautiful paradox, and I was determined to unlock her secrets. For all I knew, Cheyenne could be a Pandora’s box, a ticking time bomb just waiting to blow.

Like kerosene proposing to a flame - I had met my match.

***

“Eyes on the board,” called Mr. Geraci, my lame American History teacher, breaking me from my concentration on the note I was writing. Mr. Geraci has been teaching at Oakeley High for over forty-five years. Uncle Shawn said that my parents had him for a history teacher, too. Maybe it was time to retire. As far as I was concerned, Mr. Geraci was history. Ancient history, and he belonged on the pages with the dinosaurs, Mesopotamia, and Mount Olympus. He was as old as dirt, and he had a horrible attitude. Today, to compliment his miserable scowl, he wore a mustard green button down shirt whose heyday had past back in the 60’s. The shirt barely fit him - his bulging belly stretched the linen shirt to its breaking point. One button on the front of the shirt was under extreme duress, threatening to pop off and hit me in the head. It reminded me of the movie “The Christmas Story.” All Ralphie wanted was his red rider beebee gun, and everybody told him, “You’ll shoot your eye out kid!” Well, coming to history class was kind of like that… Treacherous. I had to keep an eye on my girlfriend because Trent was skulking the halls, looking for an opportunity to strike. Colt has the goo-goo eyes for my kid sister and Mr. Geraci is up front threatening a drive by shooting with a rogue button.

“You will have two hours to complete the test. No cheating. No talking. No gum chewing,” Mr. Geraci said in his usual gruff tone. Dude needs to lighten up.

“More like no breathing,” I mumble.

Quick as a fox, Mr. Geraci turned on the heel of his penny loafer and gave his best stink face.

“Mr. Ford… Do we have a problem?”

Enter snickers and laughs from the idiots I go to school with.

“Uh, no.”

Yes. Your breath. That button. This pop qu
iz!

“Didn’t think we did. Now take one and pass it back.”

I did as I was told just to get him to back up. His breath… Oh, my God. It makes me want to skip lunch… I never want to skip lunch. Okay, he’s gone. Time to launch Operation Note Pass. I folded up the note for Cheyenne. it was clearly marked with her initial C on the front. I tapped on Danny Carmichael’s shoulder and told him to pass the note. He did and I decided to start my test while I waited for Cheyenne to respond. After a minute, I got distracted. Colt, being the spaz that he is, had a disgusted look on his face.

“Eww!” he yelled out, causing our classmates to look at him.

“Mr. McClain. What is it?” Professor Buttons asked.

“Nothing… Uh… Thought I saw a bug.”

Everybody laughed. I rolled my eyes and went back to the test. If I fail this test, I’m giving him a brainduster. A moment later, I was distracted again. Something had popped me in the back of the head.

These people.

Someone had launched a crumpled up piece of paper at the back of my head.

What the hell. Degenerates, I swear.

I uncrumpled the piece of loose leaf paper to discover it was my note to Cheyenne. Someone had written on it. No fucking respect, man… I recognized the scrawl as soon as I laid eyes on it. Colt.

C,

Had a great time last night. Movies tonight?

R

Randy,

Ford. I never knew you felt that way. We go back… but wtf? Your sister is much cuter.

P.S. You looked like a pussy on that ride last night. Just sayin’. I’ll treasure the photos forever

Colt

Steam was probably pouring out of my ears. Fucking asshole! Now I have to rewrite it! So I do, only this time I put Cheyenne’s name on it.  I waited until Geraci had settled into this desk to get up to sharpen my pencil which happened to be just feet from Cheyenne’s desk. I dropped the note to the floor and kicked it to her. She trapped the note under her boot and winked at me with a smile. Amused, I walk back to my seat, careful not to make any noise to distract Mr. Geraci from his newspaper. I flopped into my seat. Finally, I could concentrate on the test that I was sure to fail.

A few moments later, I was hit in the head with another crumpled up piece of paper.

What now?! Does my head have a target sign on it?!

I picked the ball of paper up off the floor. Unfolding it, I smiled as I read Cheyenne’s floral cursive.

Yes! But I have a better idea! ~Chey

Oh, hell… What was she going to subject me to now?

But before I could think on it anymore, the loudspeaker squawked to life. Principal Lewis’ grating voice barked through the speaker.

“Cheyenne West to the Principal’s office.”

Hoo, boy.

Cheyenne rose from her seat looking delightfully clueless as the class called out “Oooooh!” in unison. As she brushed by me, I mouthed, “What did you do?!” with an amused look on my face. She smiled and shrugged, then she exited the class.

***

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. Cheyenne hadn’t come back to class, so I resorted to eating lunch with Tim, Averi and her friend Shelly. When Chey didn’t show up for football practice, too, I began to worry. I hoped nothing was wrong. That hope was stolen right from my chest when I saw my uncle walking across the football field in his uniform. My heart wouldn’t still. It hammered in my chest, hard and loud, my anxiety increasing with each of my uncle’s steps

“Randy, I need you to come with me.”   

10.

Cheyenne

I hear a knocking, but I cannot let them in. My body is frozen, brain staticked, limbs unmoving. My father was my rock and my rock had crumbled to ground. That is what Principal Lewis called me to her office to tell me. Daddy was dead, Momma was gone, and I was alone. I had never been so scared in my life. My body was perfectly still, but my mind, my poor mind made the room spin around me.

The house felt massive with no one else inside it. The very house that I had complained seemed cramped compared to our ranch back home in Nebraska, now was a massive plain, a barren wasteland in which there was no escape. My voice echoed off the walls with no ears to hear my cries. Not a soul to comfort my distress. I was alone. Completely, unequivocally alone.

I heard a knocking but I was afraid to let them in. In that moment, like being frozen in time. So much around me was broken – I considered myself broken, too. I was afraid that one swift wind could blow it all away. What if the people knocking were for me? What if it was my mother, who would go off the rails for sure this time? Without my father to keep her in line, I feared that she wouldn’t have long on this earth, either.

What would become of me?

11.

Randy

I climbed into my uncle’s squad car, still unsure of what was going on. I had an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, a sick queasiness that put me on edge. Uncle Shawn got in the car with a serious look on his face. He adjusted the rear view mirror and gave me a hard look.

“The new girl. You’re her friend…”

It wasn’t a question.

“Yes. Why?”

“Good. She’s going to need one.”

And without another word he pulled off. He stopped outside a flower shop on Main Street.

“Here. Go get something nice.”

Uncle Shawn passed me two ten dollar bills and a five. Damn near stumbling over my own feet, I ran into the store, grabbed a bouquet of gerbera daisies and paid the clerk, pushing the extra seven bucks into my back pocket. Once I had climbed back into the car and laid the flowers on the backseat, I yelled at my uncle.

“Now do you want to tell me what the hell is going on?!”

Uncle Shawn paused for a moment casting a sorrowful gaze at me.

“Her father, Michael West, is dead. He was gunned down outside the Gas N’ Go.”

I breathed in sharply.

“Wait. What?! I just saw him last night!”

“Happened around noon today. He was the newest officer on the squad, still in training. He was off duty, just filling up his tank. We have footage showing two guys on motorcycles opening fire then fleeing on their bikes.”

“Do those jerkoffs have anything to do with it?!”

I was screaming. I’m sure my face was a putrid shade of red. My chest heaved. The news was hard to swallow.

“Mouth!” my uncle reproached as he swatted the back of my head. I ducked. He continued, “I’m not 100% sure, but that’s where the scent is leading me.”