Chapter 1
(Age Aint nothing but a Number/Aaliyah)
“Age aint nothing but a number.”
1998
“Does anyone know what symbolism means?”
I was trying to stop my mind from drifting. Every time I was in Mrs. Osborne’s class, I couldn’t stay focused.
“Please, everyone, don't raise your hands at once.” she yacked away.
“Raven, raise your hand.” Brian, my classmate, poked my shoulder.
I shrugged him off, and I didn't want to give her any eye contact, because then she'd call on me, and I wasn't feeling it, right then.
You would swear that since I always had the highest scores in there, that I hung on to her every word. The truth was that other people were just slow, and trying to play catch up with me. All I needed was one time to get shit right.
I couldn’t help but stare at Ms. Osborne's bald head that was shining under the fluorescent lights. You would think that her ass would at least try to get a wig to cover up that deteriorating head of hers. There were visible patches of hair missing. I know she saw me smiling at her, and she probably thought that I was actually listening. I just looked at her looking at me, giving me eye contact, smiling at me and shit.
Brrriiinng
That was like music to my ears. My mind was screaming “Oh, thank God, this weak ass day is over!”
I nearly tripped, trying to get out of that boring class. I was hoping that Brian had gone in the opposite direction. The boy was on me hard, but I've told him millions of times that I wasn't into him like that. I stepped into the crowded hallway, with an attitude. I was super agitated, and didn't want to be bothered with any of those dumb ass students. They all got on my nerves. I was just an eighth grader, but I just felt that I was too old to be around most of my classmates. All they did was sit around and talk about fibrillose shit. I didn't care about what she said, or what he had on. There were definitely far more relevant things to be concerned about.
I took a look at all those silly ass boys gawking at my breasts. That was an everyday routine, when I walked down the hallways. They'd act as though I was the only girl that had some. I got tired of them, with their silly ass jokes and blatant stares.
Yeah, they've all tried to touch at one point or another. This only added to the reasons why I didn't like even one boy at my school. I got too much of the wrong kind of attention from those ass holes. Then I have these little jealous ass bitches hating, because the niggas that they have crushes on are all too busy watching me.
Shit, I can't call it. I don't know if it is the breasts, the long hair, the clear caramel skin, my little firm butt, my flat stomach, my little thick thighs, my dimples, or just the overall package. Nevertheless, I seem to always stand out and one of these haters always got my namein their mouth. It’s always Raven this or Raven that. But don’t make no mistake; I am not an outcast, just a very hot topic. I have a few friends that I run with.
As soon as I looked up, I spotted Le-Le’s ass. She was supposed to be my girl, but man, was she messy. She is always getting in some shit, and it looked like she was trying to put me in the middle of her drama.
“Girl, this bitch Tasha is going to make me hurt her ass!” Le-Le screamed, drawing attention.
“What’s going on?” I asked her as we walked towards our school bus.
“She wrote a note to Fredrick!”
I had to take a pause, because I’m like who gives a damn about him? He was still rocking Jordans that came out last year. I mean, it aint all about that, but damn. Those hulled out shoes were damn near talking.
“No, she didn’t girl.” I finally replied.
“She sure in the hell did….”
As my girl babbled on and on about nonsense, I once again drift off into my thoughts. I was looking at her stained teeth, and decided that was probably the reason her man was passing notes to other girls. I give her a few “Um hmms” here and there, to have her think that I was still listening.
She was talking about this silly ass shit, when I was dealing with adult problems. I know most people would ask: what problems could a fourteen-year-old girl have? People just didn't know the half.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
All my problems started a little over seven months ago. I was staying with my mama in Fifth Ward, aka the Bloody Nickel. It’s one of the infamous hoods in Houston…but I digress. We had a shotgun house on the corner of Brewster and Lee Street. It was not much to look at from the outside, but on the inside our shit was hooked up. We had all of the nice appliances, electronics, and furniture. My absentee daddy had supplied us with that, before he left.
My mama was just twenty-eight, while her current man was fifty-nine. He aint shit but a trick that she decided to play house with. Plenty of young girls around the way had a taste of his old, sour, mildewed ass. My mama just decided to make grandpa her man.
I didn't really care for my mama’s choice of men, but that was her business. I was cool as long as the nigga didn’t think that he was my daddy. Things were like that, until one day I saw him riding down Liberty Road, with a known prostitute. Just when I spotted him, he spotted me. I couldn't wait to go home, and tell.
