Chapter Three
“So that’s the guy?” I chuckle. I’m not sure what I expected Kiesha’s crush to look like, but this chump isn’t what I was picturing for her. Not that I care.
“Why are you laughing?”
“No reason.”
“You’re a shit liar,” she huffs at me, crumpling her napkin and tossing it onto the nearly empty tray.
“And what am I lying about? Enlighten me.”
“I don’t know. You just are.”
I look back to where Jonesy goofs off with his buddies. He’s a stereotypical jock. Wearing his jersey, hair gelled back, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. Dude thinks he’s the cock of the walk. “Tell me something. What’s so great about him?”
“I don’t have to explain my reasons to you.” She shifts in her seat, her thigh brushing against mine. “He just. I don’t know. He notices me when others don’t seem to. He’s different.”
“That doesn’t tell me much of anything.”
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t. But I know his type. Full of himself. Thinks he’s God’s gift to everyone. Especially girls.”
“You probably can’t get a girlfriend,” she snaps and shoves an apple slice between her pouty lips.
“I’ve had no complaints.” Sabrina said she took one look at me and knew she was going to love me forever. Ember teases it’s because I was the only guy in our town Sabrina wasn’t related to. She’s not wrong about that.
I twist the cap off the bottled pineapple and mango juice Kiesha grabbed. I can feel the heat of her stare as I gulp down a drink. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing. Sure.” I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. Cocking my head to the side, I study her profile, wondering if she’s always so sassy.
Her brows knit as she catches me staring out the corner of her eye. “What?”
“Quit asking ‘what’ whenever I look at you.”
“I would if you’d stop staring at me.”
“You’re too pretty for a guy like that.”
Pink stains her cheeks. “You don’t know him. I…you…”
“I know the type. You forget, it wasn’t that long ago that I was a senior.”
“Right.” She sucks down half of her Coke.
“So, what’s the deal with your father?”
“Don’t call him that. He’s a sperm donor. Nothing more. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to talk at all.”
An awkward silence stretches between us. Sabrina keeps texting and asking what I’m doing, and I keep ignoring her. I can’t focus on her being needy for attention and do my job.
I distract Kiesha and myself from our problems with conversation.
“What are your plans after graduation?”
“Sam and I are going to cosmetology school. I want to do makeup and nails, and they are studying to do hair.”
“They?”
“Sam is nonbinary and prefers they/them pronouns.”
“Noted.”
“Good. Don’t say her or she. Just call them Sam, but better yet, just be invisible.”
“I’m not happy about this arrangement, either. You think I don’t have something else I’d rather be doing?”
“Like what? Washing motorcycles in a skirt or scrubbing puke coated toilets?”
“Ha. Ha. I should be having lunch with my woman, but instead I’m stuck repeating my senior year to babysit a smartassed brat.”
“Ouch.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“You meant it exactly like that. But I get it. My own alleged father doesn’t give a shit about me. Why should you?”
“Obviously, people care about you or else I wouldn’t be here.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be. I can look after myself. You can go. I won’t rat you out or anything. It’s fine. I doubt my sperm donor even knows where to find me. Not that he’d ever bother to come looking.”
“Kiesha.” I pause, trying to choose my words wisely. Teen girls can be ultra-sensitive. “Whatever his reasons, I’m sure your sperm donor cares about you and doesn’t want to do you harm. Not really, but addiction is a nasty beast and changes people. Takes them over. Makes them choose to lash out and be destructive. And trust me. However much you think you hate him. Deep down, he hates himself triple that amount.”
“What would you know about it?”
“I’m the product of two addicts. I’ve been through some bad shit. Trust me, he’s been doing the greatest act of love by keeping out of your life. The shit he’d bring with him.” I shake my head. “You don’t want any part of that. And yeah. He’s the one missing out on his beautiful and talented daughter.”
“You think I’m beautiful?”
“You know you are.”
Her cheeks color a deeper shade of pink as unshed tears glitter in the creases of her eyes. “You’re just being nice, but thank you.”
“Trust me. Lots of guys in this school wish they could get with you.”
“No, they don’t. I’m not popular. I’ve never been asked out. Guys don’t approach me.”
“They’re intimidated. Even your crush that keeps glancing over here.”
“Oh my God. Jonesy’s looking?”
“Yeah.” I grin. “About every two minutes.”
“Don’t stare at him, but what’s he doing right now?”
“Probably debating on coming over here or wondering why you’re not over there.”
“Shut up.” She shoves me in the chest with both palms and I nearly fall out of my seat. “What should I do?”
“Why are you asking me?”
“You’re a guy and have a girlfriend. How did you win her over?”
“I didn’t. She sort of just chose me when we were kids, and I’ve been with her ever since then.”
“Whoa. So you’ve only ever dated the same girl?”
“Yup.” I scratch the back of my neck, pushing the hood down.
Kiesha touches the tattoo on my neck. “You have her name on your neck?”
The muscle in my jaw pulses as I swallow, hard. “Stupid, right?”
“I think it’s romantic.” She smiles at me and quickly pulls her hand back to her lap.
“Careful. Your jock might get the wrong idea.”
“Is he still watching?”
He’s not. He’s flirting with some cheerleaders, but I lie. “Yeah. He looks jealous.”
“Really?” she brightens.
“Absolutely.”
“Do you think he likes me?”
“He’d be a fool not to, even if you are a brat.”
“Ugh.” She deflates.
“I’m only teasing you.”
“I know that.” She sits up straighter and pokes at the remaining apple slices with her fork. “After this I have anatomy, then art. You can hang in the library or chill in the bathroom until the final bell. I can meet you at the back door or at your truck.”
“You sure you don’t want to lock me up in a broom closet or the boiler room?”
“Uh no. That’s the make-out spot. You definitely will get caught.”
“How do you know it’s the make-out spot? Thought you said guys don’t approach you.”
“Everyone knows about it. I don’t know from experience or anything. It’s just a fact.”
I want to tease her further, but let it go. I don’t want her to get the wrong idea and think I’m trying to flirt with her, but she makes it too damn easy to get a rise out of her. “Library it is then.”
I grab a book off the shelf not really caring what it is and take a seat on the floor, hoping no one asks questions or even notices I’m here. I flip the book open to a random page and pull my cell out to let Link know that Kiesha is in class and fine, other than being a brat.
At the school. She’s good. Do you have a picture of this asshole I’m supposed to be keeping a lookout for?
Do a mugshot search and his latest will pull up.
I type in the website and after a few minutes I ping the fucker’s image. Seems like he gets arrested often. How do people like him continue to be released to repeat their same transgressions? My father was the same damn way.
Proved time after time how selfish he was. How he loved drugs more than he hated himself. I never gave up on him. Not even in the end, when he was on life support from his organs, giving out from years of abuse due to his continued drug usage. I sat at his bedside praying for a miracle. For him to wake up and turn into a new person overnight.
The reality was it was never going to happen. He was who he was, same as Kiesha’s father is who he is.
There’s no changing or helping someone who can’t see past the disease of addiction.
They eat, sleep, and breathe their next fix.
My mother wasn’t much better. I had hoped my father’s death would wake her up, but in the end, his loss had the opposite effect. She was determined to join him in death as soon as possible. And she succeeded, thanks to Cloud Nine.
I don’t talk about my childhood much. Not even with Sabrina. One of the main reasons I wanted to join the club was because of how hard they work to prevent others from suffering the way I did. The way my parents did.
Protecting Kiesha from a man who will destroy her to get what he wants is personal for me.
If I can save her from that pain, I will.
No one understands what she’s going through better than me.