I tried to signal 'NO!' to Momma but I reckon she ignored it. She ran upstairs to freshen up and I was left alone with Keith. For a little while, the only sounds I could hear were the ticking of my watch. I quickly looked up at Keith. He was tapping his foot on the ground. TICK, TOCK! He looked up and I hurriedly looked away, out the window. I wish I could be free from this town. I hate it already. I wish I could just grab Momma and fly out the window like a bird, with my wings fluttering in the gentle breeze and the sweet smell of nectar. Momma would laugh at the way the wind blows her long hair and she would say she needs no man. I would smile and we'd fly around with a care in the worl—
"Kid?" Keith interrupted my daydream. I stared at him. "I'm, uh, real sorry about before. I didn't know—"
"You didn't know what? That I'm your cousin or that you were being rude?" I was positively fuming by now. "And don't call me kid!" He looked sheepish and taken back by my anger.
"Yeah, well both I guess," Keith answered lazily. He chuckled. "Boy, you sure got spark kid!" I took a deep breath and counted to ten in my head. He and his arrogance weren't going to get to me. I was above that. I wouldn't let it. The awkward silence hung in the air once more. TICK, TOCK! TICK, TOCK! What was taking my mother so long? I quickly excused myself to the bathroom to avoid any more half-hearted apologies.
I slammed the bathroom door shut and breathed deeply. I looked in the mirror. I looked the same as always, big brown eyes, round nose and rosy cheeks. I tried to put water on my cheeks so that they didn't look so red. What if Keith thought he made me cry? I quickly rubbed my cheeks with a hand towel. They turned even brighter than before. I yelped when I saw myself in the mirror; I looked like a poster child for rosacea. (A/N rosacea is when your cheeks are naturally red due to a rash sort of skin type.) I could hear the ceiling above me creak and I knew that Momma was out of her bedroom and coming downstairs. I panicked. I couldn't meet the first people in Tulsa looking like Raggedy Ann! I grabbed my mother's foundation and caked it on. My mother had lighter skin however so the foundation washed out my face and made me look ill. Aw heck, maybe I'd be able to leave early! Or even better, not even go to Aunt Rachie's! I heard Momma call me name and I took my time walking out of the bathroom.
"Momma, I think I'm becoming ill," I moaned. "I don't feel good at all." My mother put a hand over her mouth and her eyes grew sympathetic for me. I think Keith saw right through me though. He raised his red eyebrows at me but didn't say nothing. I could tell that Momma was conflicted between letting me stay home and going to Aunt Rachie's and Keith's home. Momma put her hand on my forehead and felt my temperature.
"You don't feel very warm.." She observed cautiously. "But you do look pale." She frowned and bit her lip. I felt ashamed and guilty but it was for the greater good.
"Hey, my mom has a cot upstairs so if Georgia sudden illness doesn't get better, she can rest on the cot upstairs." Keith smirked at me with a twinkle in his eyes. Dang it! My mother was already thanking Keith for his generosity.
We all buckled up in the old green junk machine and Momma drove with darling, helpful Keith to Aunt Rachie's house. They kept the topic to family stories ("Jeannie burnt the turkey, remember?") and I felt a pang of annoyance for being left out. After Momma decided to marry a coloured man, Granddaddy disowned her and she didn't get invited much to family get togethers. I sat sulking in the back seat, feeling left out and annoyed at Keith for messing up my plan.
The car drew nearer and nearer to our location and a feeling of dread grow in my stomach. Keith the gentleman, the perfect nephew, opened the doors for Momma and me. He held out a hand for me which I did not take. Hmph. He led us up to the door of his house and I reached out to ring the doorbell.
"Relax," Keith grinned, "the door's always unlocked." I gave my mother a look that she avoided. Even I knew that leaving your door unlocked is stupid and I'm only twelve years old. Keith swung the rusty door open and sauntered in. He greeted all his friends who were sprawled around the room.
I breathed in quickly. His friends were the rest of those mean guys! They had hard looks to them and greasy hair. Definitely not the people I want to mess with, one of them even had a tattoo! I backed up against the wall while my mother, Chatty Cathy, was totally at ease talking to all of them, even teasing them about school and girls. By now, I was actually feeling sick to my stomach. I know this kind of people. They wouldn't see past my curly hair and brown skin.
Momma turned to me and smiled encouragingly. "Y'all, this is my daughter, Georgia Brennan." They didn't greet me but stared at me in shock like I was a display at a museum.
I turned around and promptly threw up my lunch on Keith's leather boots.