Chapter Six

A/N: Unfortunately, I don't own this. Aaron does. Don't sue. Don't snitch. Etc…

"You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you mad." –Aldous Huxley

Jazmine

It was gorgeous outside. The sun shone as its rays hit the clouds to give the sky an almost heavenly appearance. Squirrels hit the green grass to collect acorns from the ground. Small children in neon colors and heavily advertised rock star clothing made of spandex and old school preps in wool dashed around the playground. Normally, one would say that these things would lead up to a perfect day. And maybe on another day, it would be.

I couldn't believe him. I had a brother. I wasn't an only child, and he called me a slut, a whore! He was the one who was cheating on my mother. He was the one who left at all hours of the night after destroying my house and left my mother to pick up the pieces that she couldn't gather alone. He claimed that I wasn't the same anymore? He sure wasn't around long enough to watch me change. How dare he say that about me. I hate my father. I think that I want him dead.

I finally find my way to the car as people watch the way my new purple heels hit the asphalt, clicking loudly as I storm towards it. I'm fumbling with the keys, fighting to keep the tears that threaten to fall from my eyes. I don't know how embarrassed I must feel or how sad or angry I must be. The only thing that registers is the wet substance that falls from my cheeks. I'm relieved when I open the door and step into the car, ignoring the murmurs and the calls that I know are about me.

I pull into the driveway. There's some glamorous car there that even I haven't seen before. I snort. If my parents, or Tom, think that they're going to win me back over with some stupid car that hasn't come out yet. They have another thing coming. I wipe my eyes and look down at the napkin with I guess that's alright. My eyes are a little puffy and red. And I'm all red, but I ignore that and open the red door that keeps me from the people on the inside.

My mouth drops as my mother hops up , pulling her hands around her even though fully clothed, like it'll protect her. Usher is sitting on the couch, eating popcorn. His mustache makes him look rough and stubbly. Plus, he doesn't really have a spot in my heart like he did when I was ten. Right now, I hate him too. He's just another person who has helped ruin my life. He looks at me, a disgusting slow smile spreads across his face, but all I want him to do is get off of my cherry leather couch. Who is he supposed to be to me? I give him a face of disgust, but all he does is smile, oblivious to the fact that I really want to rip off his head.

"Jazmine," Usher nods, "Long time no see. You've really grown, honey."

I ignore him and head upstairs. I don't even like him anymore. Not after the "Daddy's Home" single thing. It was creepy quite frankly, and he looks ten times older as he sits on my mother's couch.

"I can explain, Jazmine," My mom yells as I head up the steps, allowing the tears to fall again.

"No need," I whisper to myself as I ignore everything and fall into my room, "No need at all."

I flop onto the bed with a deep sigh. I hate thinking of this. I hate thinking of the fact that I have a brother, and as much as I want to deny that, I can't. I can't pretend that it didn't happen, so I don't do that. Instead, I try to piece it all together. I wish that it wasn't so hard for me to pretend. I hate that. I hate the fact that it feels like I'm turning into somebody that I'm not. Why can't anybody see past this damn mask that I've placed over myself? I hate this feeling. I hate it. I hate it. I want to get away but it finds me every damn time.

The bottle is there. It looks at me. The brownish liquid sits still, enticing me to grab it, to empty it and my problems. I fidget for a moment, looking at it. I want to so badly, but my mom is in the house. Wouldn't that be disrespectful? Then, my eyes narrow as I think of the fact that she disrespected me. She was in Usher's arms, not my father's. Then again, it looked like he had another's arms to belong in, not my mother's. How could I really blame her?

I look at the label. It's Vodka. Maybe that will do. I hope it's strong enough to knock me out in one shot, but it turns out that I hold liquor really well. I know that this may be wrong, I do, but I also know that this isn't right. My life isn't right. As truly messed up as this may sound, everything is way more real when I drink than reality. My reality is nothing less than surreal. Surreal. It makes sense in my head.

Daddy, I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. And I hate me. And I hate Mom. And I hate Usher too. Those are the words that I can process right now. I don't know what to do. I don't want to know how I want to survive. All I can do is cry and cry. I can't call Tasha or Kevin. I can't call any of those other girls at the table. They would be the main ones to spread devious rumors around the school.

I blow my nose into the white tissue and toss it into my floral garbage can before lying down on the pink fabric that covers my bed. I hated everything. I hated all of it. All I wanted to do was forget, but all I do is remember. And suddenly, I lifted.

I grabbed a gray pair of sweats and a form fitting t-shirt with a pair of converse that I had almost forgotten existed for a moment. I glanced around my surroundings, taking in the colors of my room that I had painted blue last week. And now, I'm climbing out of the window as my I look into the window to see my mom and Usher on the couch doing who knows what. I scowl before I realize that they can see me, and before they can react, I take off running.

The way I'm taking off, I can see the way that the blue skies can blend with the green grass. Everything is a blur as the rain falls from my eyes. The more I run. The better I feel. The brown pavement beneath the yellow of my converse makes me feel a little more optimistic, like maybe there's a little hope despite the muddy situation. I don't know where I'm going. And soon, the grass is flowing around me, the sunflowers blowing beneath my shoes. I see the tree that stands alone, and I immediately know exactly where I am.

I doubt that he still comes here. I know that I don't. I might be wrong. I may really be wrong, but I can't help but feel a little better as I lean against the bark of the tree and remember the good old days when only Huey made me cry. And suddenly, I let out a laugh that echoes around the silence and whispers as it comes back to me. I look up at the sun, my arms around my own two knees. And I remember things that don't hurt nearly as much as the fact that everything in my life is falling apart.

"The world is a horrible place, Jazmine," His words rang through my ears even though he wasn't really here. Even now, they made my eyes water. Only now, I know that he was really right.

I had done a pretty good job at pretending that I wasn't homeless. I had done a better job of pretending that I was still on great terms with my mom. That seemed like it was good enough, right? But it wasn't, not right now. After all, over the past month, Caesar and I had gotten pretty close. I wanted to melt right in front of him. He and I were always laughing. It was like we were different enough, but we were alike enough. I don't know how to explain it. I don't want to. It's okay for me not to understand it because I don't want to. I can only write it off as a simple natural high.

The only issue? I'm still with Huey Freeman, not that you can tell right now. I know that I'm wrong. I hate the fact that I'm so very wrong. My head is resting on Caesar's shoulder, and all I can hear is the beating of his heart, strong and beautiful at the same time. I smile as we look above us, the stars twinkle as my own heart pounds in my chest. I look at him, shocked at the way his eyes look into mine. I think he can see everything, and the small grin on his face tells me that he can.

I shift a little as I look at the people below us. I wonder how they can be so happy. Well, the homeless people that aren't assholes anyways. I look down from his gaze to ponder this, but all I can think about is how muscular he is. I hate feeling weak and scared. Why am I so emotional all of a sudden? And suddenly, he starts to talk.

"You're quiet," Michael notes as he takes another long glance at me, "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing," I tell him as my voice falters, catching me in my own lie.

"Right," He chuckles as those dreads of his shake with his head, "So like I was saying, what are you thinking about?"

"A lot," I confess as he looks at me with an eyebrow raised.

"You can tell me," He spits out awkwardly before shrugging, "I mean if you want to."

We sit there awkwardly for a moment, shrugging until finally I spit it all out, "I ran away."

He doesn't say anything, so I keep going.

"My mom was the issue," I rambled, "She loved him, and he hurt her."

"Who is he?" Caesar's eyes were getting darker, "What did he do?"

"My father," I shook my head as I looked up into the black sky, looking away from him and down the street, watching the small children play down the road by the Andy's Ice Cream shop, "He was a businessman. Everybody respected him, and they loved him."

He looked at me again, nodding.

"But that wasn't what went on when I was in the house," I swallowed as I took another breath, "He just yelled at first; that's all it was. But then, he got angrier, and the older I got, the worst things got. By the time we moved here from Carolina, he had gotten so pissed with my mother that he had started hitting her, hard."

"I see," Caesar's voice had hardened as I told him the story. I stopped speaking. The crickets chirped instead, saying everything that the silence could not, or at least, that's the way I was imagining it, "Don't stop. Keep going."

"And they were throwing things at each other, fighting so much that they didn't even notice I was there sometimes. Once, I got hit with a knife," I told him as I showed him the scars on my shoulder, flinching when his fingers touched my skin, leaving a tingling feeling, not pain, "And that wasn't even what hurt the most."

"What did?" He asked me as he removed his hand.

"The fact that every time I tried to defend her she let him beat me," I told him, "And I hated her for it, but I still loved her. Every night I still loved her, but all she wanted was him. Even when he left, all she wanted was him, not me! And there's nothing I can do about it."

"Arielle," He began, but I stopped him as I raised my hand.

"And she let him do that to her," I told him as I noticed that he had pulled me to him, my cheek against his chest, "She fell so hard that she couldn't rise ever again, and I promised myself that I would never be like her. I can't give up on me for anybody. I can't trust anybody."

"You can," He looked at me, his face solemn, "You're not like her, Arielle."

"But I am!" I told him as I looked at his shock at my outburst, "And what's worse is that I'm so angry at everybody, at myself!"

"But Arielle," He was inches away from my lips now, his voice smooth, "You can trust me."

"I don't know," I was whispering as he looked at me, shaking his head.

"Don't tell me you can't feel it," He told me as I thought about how crazy we were, how crazy this was, "Because you can."

"Caesar," I whispered something inaudible before his lips covered mine, and I kissed him back. He was spicy and sweet. I knew that I was wrong, but I couldn't stop kissing him. I was in a daze. I was seeing stars. I had never kissed Huey like that in my life.

Huey. I thought of his name as I abruptly pulled away from him.

"I've got to go," I told Caesar as he nodded.

"You felt that," He prodded, "You had to have."

"Caesar, I have a boyfriend," I told him.

"Are you sure?" He glanced at me, "Because right about now, I fail to see any logic in that theory."

"Caesar," I sighed, "Please."

"Fine," He looked back across the street, "I understand, and when you finally realize, I'll be here."

I couldn't help considering that he might be right as I walked away from him, touching my lips as others stared on and wondered what was wrong with me.

Cindy

I wonder what people really think about when they see me. Sometimes, I don't even know myself. I feel broken after a month, and the pain hasn't gone away. Nothing numbs the pain. Not even when I drink about five bottles of alcohol to numb it. Alcohol doesn't do anything for it but make me remember the screams I let out when the officers came to the door. The pills are still there. They're still in that drawer, and all I have to do is get up and get them. I lift up as my feet touch the beige carpet and head towards the oak drawer, feeling its smooth handles. I take a deep breath before pulling it open. I nod. It's either now or never.

"Cindy!" Riley opens the door as he shakes his head, "Yo sister just damn near beat my ass!"

I immediately slam the door and fly across the room so that he won't notice that my behavior is off the wall before managing to eject a fake laugh from my mouth. I hope that he falls for it. I don't think he does though. Riley's mouth opens then closes as if he wants to tell me but fears it'll hurt me.

"Yeah!" I manage loudly, just barely flinching at the sound of my cheery voice, "She got that from me!"

"Mane! She got that from Young Reezy," My boyfriend pounded his chest in a way that made me laugh harder than I had in a little while, "My gangsta rubbing off on her!"

"Whatever," I rolled my eyes at him as I ran a finger through my hair, "Where is she anyway?"

He gave me a look as he shrugged, "Harassing Granddad again I guess."

The laughs that sounded from downstairs confirmed his thoughts as we both shook our heads.

"I thought he hated Cartoon Network," I laughed again in a way that almost gave me away.

He did it again. He opened his mouth then he closed it.

"Nah," He looked at me then out of the window, "He secretly loves it if you ask me!"

I smiled again as his eyes looked into mine with a feeling that I couldn't place. I think he was worried about me. I wanted to tell him that I was fine, but I wasn't. I was lost, confused, and I was hurt.

"Babe," He sat down on the bed with his arms outreached. I looked away as I stared out of the window, pondering how long it would take him to leave so I could open the drawer, "Are you aite? Because I know it still hurts but-"

I narrowed my own eyes at him, "You don't know anything about what I feel."

He paused as he looked at me, mouth agape from the simple iciness that rolled out of my tongue, "Cindy-"

"No," I shook my head, "You don't understand. You don't understand what it's like to have sixteen years with somebody you love and have them ripped away."

"I do!" Riley snapped as he looked back at me, "I was young, aite? But it don't mean that I wasn't hurting. It doesn't mean that I'm not hurt when I see a damn kid and they daddy walking and I can barely remember."

"Good," I shook my head as his arms had somehow wrapped around me, "It's better not to remember anything. That's what's killing me. All the memories that will never come again."

He glanced at me and did the mouth thing again, but it was too late now. I wanted to know what he was thinking, and I would hear it.

"Tell me," I told him as his head lifted from whatever he was looking at, "What you were going to say."

"It's nothing," He whispered before looking away and looking back, "It's just that it kills you to remember what I would kill to. And honestly, mane this shit hurts even more to me than knowing? You know?"

But I didn't want to hear this, not with problems of my own.

"I see," I told him as we sat there for a few moments, listening to the shallow breathing that filled the room and saying nothing more until he left the room.

And with that, I had made my decision to listen to that small whisper that told me that it was okay.

"Open the drawer," It told me.

I listened.

Huey

I know deep down inside that I should be returning Jazmine's diary, but on the other hand, I want to know what's going on with her. I debate this as I walk home from the school. Detention was as eventful as it could get, I suppose. People fighting, strange conversations and people talking about what happened with Jazmine. I shake my head at the thought. Her pink diary has her name scrawled on the cover. I take a deep breath as I open it, flipping to the first page.

August 12, 2010

Dear Diary,

It's official now. Huey and Arielle really like each other now, and honestly, I can't say I'm surprised. What in the world could he see in a stupid girl like me? They both understand politics, they both think I'm dumb, and they both love their own race when I can barely choose between one. I just don't want to hurt anymore, especially at thirteen.

I know that it's crazy to love somebody so young, and I know it's even crazier to fall in love with a guy like Huey. I mean, he's amazing. He's smart and loyal and he cares about people. I love the way he'll fight for anybody he meets, even if he doesn't know them. I want him to like me back, but I know that we won't ever be together. I guess we're just too different.

Maybe, just maybe, I don't love him, and this is just a crush. After all, I just think he's cute. He does make me cry all the time, and he does say mean stuff to me all the time. He's way nicer to Arielle, and even when he says stuff that's mean to her, she can handle it.

Luckily, I'm going to leave junior high after this year. Maybe I can find a new guy to love, somebody who will actually love me back, somebody who doesn't make me cry all the time.

Yeah, that sounds good to me, but until then, I guess I'll just watch as Arielle and Huey get closer and closer to each other.

And eat this very tasty Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream! I guess all heartbreak isn't bad.

I feel my eyes widen as I pause on the concrete to read the pages. I never knew she felt that way about me. Well, I knew that she had a little crush when we were younger, but I never knew that it was anything like this. I never knew that she loved me back then, and I didn't notice that she cared that much. I shook my head as I remembered her and I by the tree in our younger days. I had always made her cry, and I had taken her kindness for granted. I probably would have told her she was right about the fact that she and I don't belong together. Things had definitely changed now though. We barely even talked. I flipped some pages before stopping. I hated that I was being so nosy, but I just had to know what was going on with her.

September 19, 2011

Dear Diary,

I'm finally over him. I met the sweetest guy in the whole entire world today, Kevin Bryce. He's way nicer than Huey is, and guess what? He actually likes me! We don't go out yet, but we will. We just have to get to know each other first. I can't wait to call Cindy and tell her. Maybe, I'll get my first real kiss! At age fourteen! I'm so happy!

Oh yeah, and I love drama class. I met this girl named Tasha. She seemed cool. We talked for a little while, and she helped me find my way around the school. I guess the first day of high school went pretty well after all.

Bye,

Jazmine Dubois Bryce

I rolled my two eyes as I shook my head. Leave it to Jazmine to romanticize everything. The afternoon sky was even bluer than normal, I noted. The way the clouds flew across the sky almost made me smile, but then I could remember what they reminded me of. My eyes darkened as I immediately thrust them out of my head. Did I really still want to do that to myself? d. I flipped to another page.

December 1, 2011

Dear Diary,

I don't want to do this to them. Really, I don't, but I don't even feel like I belong with them anymore. Arielle's with Huey. Riley and Cindy have stopped fighting and are getting closer and closer by the second. I can't even be around them anymore. I can't even make myself say anything.

Besides, everybody thinks I'm a loser. I may as well…

The book is thrown from my hands and falls to the ground, but that's not even what shocks me. What shocks me is the fact that Jazmine is the one who has thrown it onto the floor. I grimace at her expression as I study her face. It's red, and her eyes are puffy. I see that she's wearing her Converse and sweats, which makes me relax a little bit, even though she's clearly upset.

"What the hell," Jazmine breathed as she folded her arms over her chest, "Are you doing with my diary?

"Um," I looked around her, "I found it?"

"So you read it?" Jazmine's voice sounded incredulous, "Are you serious? That's my diary?"

"Well how was I supposed to know it was yours?" I played it off with minor nonchalant motions of my shoulders, "I mean really, Jazmine?"

"I don't know," Jazmine told me as she gave me a look, "Maybe because Jazmine Dubois is all over the cover?"

"Whatever," I shrugged, "It's nothing in there worth reading."

"If you say so," She told me before walking away from her spot on the hill.

"Wait," I could hear my mouth uttering the damn words as she spun around, a frown etched on her face, "Why were you here?"

"Why do you care?" She spat as she turned to face me, "I could have sworn that you said that you hated me, so just back off!"

"What the hell, Jazmine?" I couldn't get why she was acting this way, "What's wrong with you? Why the fuck do you have to act like such a damn... You know what? Forget it!"

"Maybe nothing is wrong with me," She lowered her voice as she looked around her before coming towards me, her own finger in my face, "Maybe I'm just in a bad mood."

"So that's why you're face is all puffy because you were in a bad mood," I rolled my eyes at her, "That sounds very convincing, Jazmine."

"Just back off, Huey," She shook her head as her voice grew considerably softer, "Please."

"I just," I stopped myself from saying the words that we both wanted to say, "Fine."

"Thanks," She said before sprinting off and leaving me and the words that I wanted to tell her behind.

I just wish things could be different.

Riley

We hitting up the streets tonight to take care of unfinished business. The way that these gangs operate makes me feel as though they have lost respect for ours. I don't appreciate anybody talking shit about me. Let alone renigging on me. Whatever, that ass is mine tonight. No homo.

My dudes are hyped up, shouting and cracking their knuckles. I nod in understanding as we approach our latest victims. I check them out. I can already tell that they gone lose. They stand with smirks on their faces, flexing muscles that I don't really give a damn about. I look at the one in the middle, who I'm assuming is they bitch ass leader, stands alone with his arms folded across his chest.

My crew has been trained to check out the competition as well. I notice what they are doing before they even think about it. I look at them, the way that their guns gleam in the moonlight. The silhouettes they give in their pockets as they point downwards make me turn away. I know that they will never get to use them. And soon, we meet in the middle, throwing up signs that we didn't really create. And even as I look at the leader, all I can think about is the fact that I'm fighting a war that shouldn't exist. I don't understand it, but for the sake of what's gangsta, I follow along with it.

"What are you doing here bruh?" The leader asks me with angry eyes. He steps up to me as his crew watches on and waits for me to even breathe so that they can strike, "This ain't yo area."

"Really?" I told him as I caught his eyes and stepped closer to him, "Because I heard that it ain't. As a matter of fact, I heard that this was my whole mother fucking property! So how about you take yo bitches and bounce?"

The leader laughs a little uneasily and shrugs to play it off, but I know I shook his scary ass up, "Or how about you take those behind you and bounce? I'm not going nowhere!"

"Now, see mane," I told him as I narrowed my eyes, "You really don't want to tell me that."

He thinks he has an advantage because I'm only fourteen. The dumb ass nigga doesn't even realize that he's playing with fire, but that's fine with me. He's only making it difficult for his own ass, "Mane please! You're only what, twelve? How about you go on somewhere and play gangsta with somebody else?"

"And how about you move?" I growl as he pulls out the gun before everything gets quiet as hell. The crews stare at me, and the cold steel rests between my nose and my eyes. I squint as I look at him angrily.

"Naw," I tell him as I snatch the gun from my head and lifting my fists to hit him in the face, "Hell naw."

Then, everything happens so fast that even my head spins for a moment. And soon, the whole crew is beating the others down as groans can be heard from my enemies. I smirk. This place is ours. I own this shit. The leader's confidence is dwindling too. His ass is getting mentally weary every time my fist collides with any damn part of his anatomy I choose. His nose is bleeding and there's a long ass scar above his eye. He glares at me in a way that tells me that he'll be back, but I'm not scared.

I'm never afraid.

I point the gun at him, and he stiffens, "Leave, mane. I'd hate to embarrass yo ass again."

He nods as he shakes his head, "Next time."

As they walk away, my crew has already started bragging. Jarod, however, walks up to me. He stops as he looks around him, and I already know what he's going to say before he utters the words.

"That girl," He glanced around him as his voice lowered, "From detention."

"Yeah, Jazmine" I told him, "She's-"

"My sister," He sighed, "And she's kind of stuck up"

"Well," I started, "She wasn't always like that mane."

"I see that much," Jarod rolled his eyes, "She looked uncomfortable as hell, but she's mad strong though."

"Whatever," I rolled my own two eyes.

"So what's she like?" He asked me as he looked off into the distance at the dudes in our gang act like some pure fools.

"I don't know mane," I shrugged, "We don't talk no more."

"Aw," He told me, "What happened?"

"I don't know, to be honest," I told him, as I too looked away, "She just kind of walked out of our lives and into another."

"Well, what did she use to be like?" He asked me.

"Mane," I threw my head back and laughed, "Your older sister used to act like a total crybaby. That broad was the girl version of Tom."

He punched me so hard that I couldn't breathe.

"That's my sister, nigga!" He said as he shot me a look, "Even if she is kind of-"

"A b-" I paused and reconsidered my words, "Stuck- up?"

"Yeah," He nodded as we stood there and looked at the sky, "I just have a feeling that that's about to change. Everything is."

I didn't say anything. All I could think about was the way the stars twinkled and Cindy's tears and Huey and Granddad. Everybody.

Was it really worth it? Was the danger really worth it all?

Everything's about to change.

I guess I would find out.