The Queen Bee of Bridgeton (23 page)

"What are you doing here?" he asked when he opened the door.  Surprisingly, he seemed more shocked than angry.

"I needed to see you. I need to hear your voice.  I need
you
."  Will looked over his shoulder.  "Is Julia home?" I asked.

"No, she's…um doing community service. 
Part of her probation for the DUI."

"Can I come in?"

"
Uhh
…I don't think that's a good idea." Will stepped through the door and closed it behind him. Without thinking, I lunged forward and hugged him tightly. He didn't return the embrace.  "I'm so sorry, I hurt you, Will. I'll do anything if you just forgive me. I love you."  My tears soaked his shirt. Will buried his face in my hair.  He pulled away from me and gently wiped my tears with his fingertips. I thought for a moment I had won him back. But then, the door opened and the devil herself walked through.

"Will? What are you - …Oh, it's you," Ashley Carter sneered. She possessively wrapped her arms around Will's waist and said, "Are you crying again? I swear to God you have absolutely no backbone whatsoever." She let go of Will's waist and took a step forward causing me to step back. "You were such an easy target," she said blowing her rum laden breath in my face.  Or it could have been whiskey, vodka or tequila. How should I know? But I did know I was tired of being a target.  I no longer wanted to be the victim.  I needed to stand up for myself and fight back.

My first punch landed right below her left eye and sent her reeling to the ground.  I jumped on top of her and continued my assault on her face.  I never imagined what a sweet release it would be to feel my fist make contact with her white, rich, snotty, over-privileged face.

Will came behind me and lifted me up as Ashley tried to stand and retreat.  He restrained my arms preventing me from throwing another punch, but he failed to realize my legs were even more of a weapon.  I kicked and flailed my legs landing several more blows to her face.

"My nose!
  I think she broke my nose!" she cried, tears streaming down her face.

"Ashley, get in the house!" Will yelled, still restraining me. Ashley ran inside, flinging the door shut behind her.

"Who's crying now, bitch?" I screamed after her. "Let me go, Will. Let me go." I scrambled free and lunged for the door, but he grabbed me again.

"What has gotten into you?" he asked, pulling me away from his front door and toward the street.

"What's gotten into
me
? What's gotten into
you
?" I panted using all my strength to escape his grasp. "How could you go back to her?  After all she did to me, how could you?"  I shoved him so hard he stumbled backward a little. "You're such a hypocrite. I hate you. I hate you!" I punched him in the chest over and over.

Will grabbed my wrists and pulled me to him. He stared deep into my eyes and breathed in sharply like he wanted to say something, but decided against it.  He looked at his house then at me. Then he closed his eyes, released me, and said, "I think you should go."

The fire that grew inside me from watching Ashley with my man blazed as I stormed away from Will's house. 

 The next thing I knew I was on
Emmaline
Graham's doorstep. It was time we had a little chat.

Somehow, I had to accept the fact that Will and I were over.  He was only my
first
boyfriend.  There would be other boys, right?
Probably not.
  I don't know why, but for some reason men never really showed an interest in me.  I never got cat calls when I walked through
Venton
Heights and besides Will, no boy had ever asked me out.  From fifth to eighth grade, Tyrell
Fitts
gave me cards on Valentine's Day and my birthday, but other than that he barely spoke to me.  I didn't even think he knew my name.  On the few occasions he did talk to me, he called me Ballerina Girl.  In any case, at the end of eighth grade, when
LaPorscha
got pregnant with his baby, the cards stopped. I guess he figured it wasn't right to send one woman cards when another was about to have his child.

Maybe I was just too weird.  Maybe I just bored people too much with all my talk of dance and Russian ballerinas.  I shouldn't have even worried about it.  I should've just been happy that I didn't get hit on by strange men all the time.  I should have realized how lucky I was in that regard.

"Hey pretty lady," a man said to me as I was walking home one night.  I ignored him and kept walking.  Once again I had missed all the buses and Sasha was at a party or something.  I wasn't quite sure.  It was hard for me to keep up with her these days.  With graduation a week away, I guess she was really busy.

"Don't be so stuck up. I just
wanna
talk to
ya
.  I thought I knew all the pretty ladies 'round here."  An unshaven man of about thirty with missing teeth stepped in front of me forcing me to stop.  "I'm
Rayshon
," he said leaning in closer.  His breath smelled like a mixture of marijuana and alcohol.  It was foul.  I tried to step around him, but he blocked my path.  "
Ain't
you
gonna
tell me
yo
name before you go?"  I turned and walked in the other direction. In three steps he was in front of me again. 

I looked around into the darkness of my neighborhood.  My apartment was still two blocks away and no one was outside.  Why did I keep walking through this place alone and at night?  Why didn't I just stay the night at the studio?

I turned again and walked quickly towards my apartment. My heart raced and I could feel a lump developing in my throat soon to be followed by uncontrollable tears. 
Rayshon
grabbed my arm and said, "I just
wanna
talk to
ya
. 
Where
ya
goin
'?"

"Let go of me!" I yelled as I flung my dance bag at him with all my might. 
Rayshon
gripped me tighter.  I closed my eyes and tried to squirm away from him.  Then I heard a click and
Rayshon
instantly let go of me.           

"The only reason you're not dead already is because I don't want to get blood on my friend," Tyrell said calmly as he pointed a gun at
Rayshon's
temple.

"
Yo
, Boo Man, I-"

"Shut up."  Tyrell pushed
Rayshon
away from me with the barrel of his gun. "This is how this is going to work.  You are never
gonna
touch her again.  You're never
gonna
look at her or even speak her name.  If you do, I'll go to your home, kill your mother, your father, your grandmother, your aunts, uncles and cousins," he said in an eerie matter of fact manner.  "But I won't stop there.  I'll wait a few years.  Let your children have children.  I'll kill them.  Then I'll come for you.  Do I make myself clear?"  My assailant nodded his head furiously.  I think he might have wet his pants.  "Get out of here before I change my mind and empty my clip into the side of your head right now." After
Rayshon
scurried away, Tyrell said to me, "You alright, Ballerina Girl?"  I didn't respond.  I was in shock.  Tyrell tucked his gun into the back of his pants then held out his arms to me. I buried my face in his chest and tried to gain control of my breathing.  "I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner," he said as he held me securely to him.

"Thank you, Tyrell," I said as I drank a cup of tea at my kitchen table. He had walked me back to my apartment and waited for me as I took a shower.  He wanted to make sure I felt safe before he left.

"I'm glad I was there. I hate to think what could have happened. I can't believe he would try something like that. 
Rayshon
should know better than to mess with you."

"Why?"

"Because I said so."
  I gave Tyrell a confused look.  I didn't know what he was talking about.  I didn't even know
Rayshon
before tonight.  How would he know not to mess with me?   "Every guy around here knows not to touch my Ballerina Girl."

"Excuse me?"  I asked nearly choking on a sip of tea.

"Don't be mad at me. I just wanted to keep you safe."

"I'm not mad.  At least, I think I'm not mad. I'm just confused.  Did you do the same for Sasha?"

"Sasha?" Tyrell laughed a little. "Trust me, Sasha can take care of herself.  But you, you're different."  Tyrell took out his gun and started fiddling with it nervously.  My eyes grew large.  I had never seen a gun up close before tonight.  He noticed my discomfort and quickly put it away again.  Tyrell cleared his throat, looked down and said, "You're like this rare, precious, beautiful, flower growing with a bunch of weeds.  I just wanted to protect you."

"So you told every boy in the neighborhood to stay away from me?  That's why I've never been asked to a dance or to dinner or to a movie or anything? All this time I thought something was wrong with me."

"Nothing's wrong with you.  You're perfect."  I looked down into my cup. I took a spoon and started stirring even though there was no sugar in it. I never knew Tyrell felt this way. "I didn't mean for it to seem like something was wrong with you.  I just felt no one around here was good enough for you." 

"Tyrell, what are you trying to say?"  Tyrell reached across the table and clasped my hands in his.

"I'm saying that you're too good for this apartment, for this neighborhood, for the people in this neighborhood…even for me.  You're too good for me."  I was speechless.  "I've had a thing for you since fifth grade, but I care for you too much to see you get attached to anything or anyone in this place.  You deserve better."

"Tyrell, I-"

"Aren't you with
Wonderbread
now?" he asked, trying to change the subject somewhat.  He let go of my hands and leaned back in his chair.

"What?"

"
Wonderbread
.
  White Will.  He plays ball with us down on Fifth Street sometimes. That's what we call him on the court."

"Oh, Will.  We…he…we're not together anymore, I guess."           

"What did he do to you?" 
he
asked protectively as he sat upright in his chair.

"No, he didn't…it's not…he thinks…well, to use his words exactly, I'm a whore and he never wants to see me again." 

Tyrell laughed. "I barely know you and I know that's not true. Maybe he's not good enough for you after all."

A strange feeling roused in me toward Tyrell. He wasn't especially attractive.  Nothing really stood out about him except a dimple in his left cheek so deep you could almost see it when he wasn't even smiling.  Other than that he looked just like five or six other black teenagers in
Venton
Heights: tall, dark, and athletic.  But something about his demeanor made him completely irresistible to the girls in the neighborhood.  Maybe his charisma made him stand out or the amount of power he wielded even with people twice his age. 

In any case, I saw him in a new light.  Despite his façade, he was sweet and he cared about me. He had protected me in
Venton
Heights for years without my even realizing it. He barely knew me, but he knew I wouldn't cheat on Will.  Why didn't Will see that?  Maybe Will
wasn't
the one.  Maybe Tyrell was.  I mean, I let Tyrell into my roach infested apartment and I didn't feel a tinge of shame.  I knew Tyrell understood.  Tyrell lived like me. 
Will would
never have that understanding.  He would never know what it was like to grow up in a place like this.  Maybe I needed someone like Tyrell.