Authors: Coo Sweet
Loose (12 page)
"She's not my girl!"
Sage banged the table to emphasize his point. It was loud enough that a few heads turned to investigate the commotion.
Peyton’s mouth dropped open. WTF, he thought.
But Sage wasn’t done.
"You're stupid. You know that? Why do I even bother with you?" Sage growled. He pushed away from the table and stormed out of the room.
Peyton shook his head and threw his hands up in resignation, then he shrugged and tackled the rest of the fries.
“Hmmp…boy sure acts like he’s on the rag,” Peyton mumbled to himself.
After school, Sage stood in front of Raven's locker. He looked at a slip of paper, spun the combination, and opened the locker door. A flood of papers, books, and personal items spilled out.
Sage kicked the bottom locker in frustration.
"Dang! Doesn't she take anything home?" Sage muttered under his breath.
He bent down and started scooping up Raven's ridiculously bountiful cache of belongings. He separated her textbooks from the pile. He set them aside. Everything else he crammed back in the locker.
Sage fidgeted with his keys while trying to navigate the short trek to his truck with an armful of books. The pile started to sway. It was just about to tumble when, seemingly out of nowhere, Peyton appeared. In an unbuttoned, oversized shirt that billowed behind him like Superman's cape, he swooped in to catch the books.
"Nice save, man. Thanks." Sage said.
"Hey, I got your back. You know that." Peyton grinned. A look passed between the boys. It signaled a truce.
"What's with all the books anyway?"
Sage ignored the question. He unlocked the doors to the truck. They dumped the books on the back seat and climbed in the front. Sage buckled up as usual. Peyton didn’t.
Sage drove, still skirting the subject of the big load of books he carried, but Peyton refused to let him off the hook.
"So?" he asked.
"So what?"
"All those books. What's up with them?"
"They're for Raven. She's out sick. Told her I would drop them off," Sage said, never once taking his eyes off the road.
"What?! You’re kidding me, right?" Peyton threw his head back and brayed like he’d lost his mind. “You’re a hard one to figure. You know that?”
He dug through the console for a CD, and bumped Sage's elbow in the process. Sage slightly swerved into the next traffic lane.
"Hey! Watch yourself, son! I’m trying to drive here."
Peyton barely registered the warning. He kept rummaging for the CD.
"Where's that Dirty Dog CD you just bought?" he asked.
"I threw it away," Sage answered.
Peyton whipped his head toward Sage.
"What? Why’d you do that? Those tracks were tight."
"You ever pay attention to the lyrics, man? The way he dogs ladies and shit?" said Sage
.
"Yeah. So what? He's Dirty Dog, not Romeo. What do you expect him to sing about? French kisses and roses?"
"Well, I'm not trying to hear that mess anymore. Sorry. My ride…my rules," Sage reminded him.
Peyton rolled his eyes.
"Man, you're losing your edge. First, you pass up fine ass Jasmin for wack job Raven. Now you're getting all sensitive about your music. What's up with that?" said Peyton.
"People change. Grow. It's simple," Sage said.
"Oh. Right. So what's next? You retiring loose me for celibate me?” Peyton teased.
"Might not be a bad idea. Some nasty stuff out there. Never know what you might pick up."
"Get out of here with that bullshit,” said Peyton, screwing up his face and waving his hands like he was fanning away fart fumes. “I'll take my chances with the bootie any day.”
"Not surprised. You always do," said Sage.
He glanced at Peyton's unbuckled seat belt. Gestured for him to strap it on. Peyton grudgingly did.
“Whatever, man. Like I said, you’re nuts.”
Raven stood in front of the bathroom mirror. She splashed water on her face and checked the condition of the bruise on her cheek. It had turned from rich purple to a faint yellow, and it was no longer tender to the touch. The swelling in her nose had gone down, too.
She turned from the sink and faced a large calendar tacked to the door. It was single-sided, twelve months at a glance. There was a consistent pattern of red-letter days marked on each month. All except the current month. That one was simply black and white.
Raven tapped her finger on it as if she was commanding it to do something. Come on, shape up. Get with the program! She stared at the calendar for a few more seconds, then opened the door and left the room.
Later that afternoon, Sage stood near the front door inside Raven’s house. He had his keys in his hand and he nervously jiggled them. The stack of textbooks he’d delivered sat on the coffee table.
"I would stay, but Peyton's in the truck," he apologized.
"It’s cool. Thanks for bringing the books. I'll probably be at school tomorrow," said Raven.
"Oh, it was no problem. Things okay with your granny these days?" Sage shuffled his feet, jiggled the keys some more.
“Yeah. We kissed and made up. It’s hard for us to stay mad at each other," Raven said.
"That’s good. So I’ll see you at school tomorrow?"
"Sure. See you then." Raven smiled. She pecked him on the cheek.
Seeing Raven so mellow did something to Sage. Even though they’d had sex, he still felt anxious with her sometimes. Now the frostiness was beginning to thaw. Before he had a chance to second guess himself, an invitation spilled from his mouth.
"Hey, you want to go with me to the basketball game Friday night? Think you can get out of the house?”
For the first time in ages, Raven smiled a genuine smile.
“Really? I mean…yeah! That would be cool,” she gushed.
“Good. I’ll call you later and firm things up.”
“Okay. Thanks again,” Raven said.
Sage reached for the door but didn’t open it.
“Well, I'm going now," he said.
Raven nodded, “Okaaay…see you later.”
Sage still didn’t move. Raven sucked her teeth and laughed. This silly boy, she thought. She took Sage by the shoulders and lightly pushed him out the door.
“Go. Bye,” she said.
Sage stumbled out the door with a delirious looking grin on his face. Like she’d just accepted his hand in marriage or something--and he wasn’t quite sure if he should have offered.
Raven retreated from the doorway. She made sure the door was shut tight and locked. As soon as she heard Sage drive away she was back in the bathroom standing in front of the calendar again. This time her mood and the expression on her face were sunny. So much so, that it looked like to her, the colors in the bruise on her cheek could have been inspired by the arcs of a rainbow after a summer storm.
That night in his bedroom, Sage tapped the keys on his laptop with lightning strokes. He paused, read, tapped some more. After clicking on several links and scanning the contents, the tension that seemed to have a stranglehold on his face loosened. By the time he was done reading his features were smooth, relaxed.
Sage powered the computer down, climbed into bed, and got comfortable. His body shifted easily to park, but his mind was still in drive--with thoughts of Raven and Jasmin zipping through his head. The race to get to sleep would be a marathon.
Chapter 13The girls’ restroom at school was deserted, except for Raven, who sat in one of the stalls. With her hands protected by rubber gloves, she reached into the sanitary napkin disposal box. She pulled out the brown bag lining the box. There was a single discarded napkin in it. Raven unfolded the pad. She inspected it and re-folded it. She pulled a sandwich bag from her pocket, placed the sanitary napkin in it. Then she squeezed the air out of the bag, zipped it shut, and buried it at the bottom of her backpack.
Back at home, Raven started preparations for dinner. The meal consisted of all her grandmother’s favorites. She seasoned a chicken and placed it in a baking pan. She slid the pan into the oven, then she chopped vegetables for a salad. The veggies were scooped into a large bowl and stuck in the fridge. Once that was done, Raven filled a pot with water, added peeled potato chunks, and set the pot on the stove to boil.
In the living room, Celia lounged on the couch. Her slipper-covered feet were propped up on the coffee table. The worry lines that were usually parked between her brows were smooth for a change--even her jaw hung loose and her mouth relaxed.
The television blared, but she only caught snatches of the program, because she thumbed through a magazine that rested on her lap. She was just about to chuck the remote and her reading material in exchange for a quick nap when Raven walked in.
"Dinner's ready, Granny." Celia looked up, nodded acknowledgment.
"Smells good, baby," said Celia.
Raven turned back toward the kitchen. She’d only taken a few steps when Celia stopped her.
"Hey, don’t you have something to show me?"
Raven casually snapped her fingers.
"Oh, yeah. Be right back." She left the room.
In the bedroom, Raven dug around in her backpack. She retrieved the sandwich bag that contained the used sanitary napkin she’d borrowed. She took it into the bathroom, set it down, and unrolled some toilet paper.
Raven inhaled a big gulp of air and took the pad out of the bag with toilet-paper wrapped fingers. She wound the paper around the pad and held the pad at arm's length, like it was a bomb ready to detonate at any second, but she somehow managed to walk out of the room with it.
Raven handed the pad to Celia without a hitch. As natural as breathing. Celia unwound the toilet paper and used a corner of it to open the pad. She took a quick look at its surface. Satisfied with the condition, she rewrapped it and passed it back to Raven.
"You mark the calendar?" asked Celia.
"Yes, ma'am." Raven left the room on stiff, wooden legs.
Celia, a conflicted look on her face, crossed her arms over her chest and watched her granddaughter retreat. She got up and went to the bathroom in the hall to wash her hands. While she dried them, she took a look at herself in the mirror. The dim lighting cast a shadow over her features. Some things just have to be done, she thought.
They ate dinner in the kitchen with little conversation between them. The heavy silence in the room made the sound of the silverware clinking on their plates seem unusually amplified. Raven found herself flinching inside each time metal connected with dinnerware. Her food sat mostly untouched.
Celia noticed, raised an eyebrow. "You not hungry?" she asked.
"No, I feel kind of sick. Probably from my period," said Raven.
"Well, don't waste good food. Wrap that up for later."
"Yes, ma’am."
Celia nodded and resumed eating. Raven pushed the food around on her plate. She stole a few glances at her grandmother, trying to gauge her mood.
When Celia looked up and smiled, Raven jumped at the opportunity to ask the question that had been bouncing around in her head all evening. She took a big breath and plowed ahead.
“Granny, you think I could go to the basketball game Friday night? Tia’s dance group is performing at halftime. I want to go support her.”
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