Before, After, and Somebody In Between Read Online Free

Marlboros out of a purple lace bra. “Want one?”
    Nervous glance at the door. “You nuts? What if we get caught?”
    Shavonne lights up and inhales deeply. “Man, you always such a baby?”
    “No,” I lie.
    “Bull. You about shit your pants back there.”
    True. I fan away fumes as she sends a blast of smoke rings spiraling up to the ceiling. “Well, thanks. You saved my life.”
    “Just stay away from that psycho. She eighteen years old and ain’t even a junior, and guess what she done last year? Stabbed some girl through the eye with this little Bic pen, and got her fat ass thrown out the rest of the year. That girl got a glass eye now, and ain’t nobody seen her since.”
    “Why’d she stab her? Was she white?”
    Shavonne eyes me narrowly. “No, she wasn’t white. Chardonnay’s pure evil. Back in eighth grade she tried to kick my ass, too. Ain’t touched me since, though,” she adds with a vicious grin.
    “How come?”
    “ ’Cause now she knows I kick back.”
    I eye Shavonne’s long bony frame. “ You kicked Chardonnay’s butt?”
    “Well, I broke her pinky finger. She couldn’t do nothing to me after that.”
    Impressed, I pull off my glasses, splash water on my face, then wriggle out of my shoe and peel down my raggedy sock. No blood. Guess I’ll live.
    Shavonne wrinkles her nose at the purplish bruise on my foot. “Damn, girl. You lucky that cow didn’t break every last bone.” Flinging back her braids, she takes another puff of her cigarette. “So, you’re new, right?”
    “Oh, how can you tell?” I demand, twisting the sock back over my aching foot.
    “Where you from?”
    “Spencer.”
    “Where the hell’s that?”
    “Cow country. Anyway, we move, like, twice a year. So far this is the first place that has sidewalks.”
    “So how’d you end up here?”
    Sigh. “My mom’s shacking up with some dude. We live down on Ninety-third.”
    “He black?”
    “Who?”
    “Your mom’s dude.”
    “No, he’s a hillbilly slumlord.” Shavonne giggles, and I ask,“Where do you live?” because, with any luck, we might be neighbors.
    “You know those projects down by the hospital?”
    Hey, I thought you had to be on welfare to live in the projects. Shavonne doesn’t look poor. Her clothes are stunning, her hair and nails perfect. Even her skin is flawless, smooth and dark as the bottom of a Hershey bar. I feel drab and juvenile next to her in my fugly glasses and South Park T-shirt, my long, frizzy brown hair springing madly out of a scrunchie.
    “We have roaches,” I say stupidly for no particular reason.
    “Roaches?” Shavonne sticks out her tongue. “That ain’t nothin’. I got junkies in my building and you can’t even call the cops ‘cause if they find out who done it, they come blow your damn brains out. They be pissin’ all over the hallways, too. Girl, I got to jump over puddles when I leave outta there in the morning.”
    She smokes in silence, and I begin to get nervous again. “Um, maybe we ought to go see the nurse?”
    “What for? All she gonna do is tell you to take a load off. You already done that.”
    “Maybe she’ll send me home?”
    “Nope. Only way she’ll do that is if you puke on yourself. Or if Aunt Flo shows up and messes up your clothes.”
    I haven’t met Aunt Flo yet. I must be physically retarded.
    A bell rings and both of us jump. I ease my shoe back on as Shavonne jams the Marlboros into her bra and buttons up her blouse. “I got lunch next. How ‘bout you?”
    I consult my schedule again, and almost collapse with relief. “Me too!” And I follow her swinging braids out to the hall, pushing my way semiexpertly through the noisy, jostling mob.
    So far today, one enemy and one friend. Now all I have to do is make it to the last bell alive.

5
    Jerome and I wade home together through broken glass, litter, and empty beer cans. Halfway there, I remember something. “You pissed me off yesterday, I hope you know.”
    “What’d I