Tapping on the door to where Brenyn was camped out in their house., when she didn’t get an answer, Minx nudged the door open. She found the girl laying down with her back to the door, curled up in some of Minx’s old track gear from high school. She knew the girl from the neighborhood and going to a few of the football games since Brenyn was on the cheer squad.
“Brenyn,” Minx spoke gently.
Still no answer from her. Minx stepped into the room, darkened with the curtains drawn, blocking what was left of daylight out. She could tell Brenyn was awake because her body trembled where she lay. Curled up, one hand tucked under her head and she stared ahead, not really focused on anything. Mainly in her own head. Empathy clouded Minx’s face, and she knelt to be eye to eye with her. Tears spilled down her face. She had two black eyes, and her open eyes were bloodshot. A cold chill swept over Minx staring into the emptiness behind her eyes. This girl was broken.
“Hey,” Minx greeted her. “You need anything? Something to eat? Maybe a joint or a Xanax?” She jested.
Brenyn paused, sniffling a little while her eyes focused on Minx, finally even noticing she was there. She saw the flicker of interest, and Minx smirked. She’d seen her and some of her friends around the way smoking, so she figured weed might be her best aid right now. Minx had confiscated more than a couple of the big ass roaches Finn kept in his ashtray. She dug her lighter out of her back pocket and sat on the floor. She propped her back against the bed and got comfortable against the soft carpet. Sparking the blunt, she took a drag and let the smokecascade around them. Minx was okay with her not wanting to talk. She had enough on her mind already. Taking another pull from the blunt, she held the smoke in her mouth and blew smoke rings upward.
“So I get if you don’t want to talk. My daddy told me what happened with you, and… I doubt I would want to talk about it either.” Minx exhaled a small cloud. “You mind listening to me vent for a bit?” She didn’t look at Brenyn when she held the blunt up past her shoulder.
When she felt her fingertips brush against hers and grab it, Minx knew that Brenyn was communicating the best way that she knew how, and she half smiled.
“Feel free to shut me up at any time. I got enough to fill a diary,” she muttered, laughing to herself as she coughed a little from the smoke.
Brenyn puffed away on the weed, easing some of her anxiety out of her. Minx tossed her head back, resting it against the mattress while thoughts of her and Rose ambushed her.
“Let me tell you about my first crush.” Minx’s voice drifted off into another time, a slow smile creeping across her caramel face.
Winter2005
The snow clouded the windows to Minx’s bedroom. Curled up under her comforter, she rested with her arms under her head against the pillow. Staring at the window, she watched as the flakes grew thicker the longer they fell. She wondered how long it would snow. It was almost eleven p.m., and it hadn’t stopped since late that afternoon. Unable to sleep, Minx listened as the door to her home opened and slammed shut. She heard her father’s voice and then her mother’s. It wasn’t unusual for him to come in at this hour or for her mother to start a fight at that very moment. It didn’t last long. She heard the door totheir bedroom slam shut, which meant her mother was done for the night and then the footsteps heading in her direction. The door to her bedroom creaked open, shining light from the hallway inside. Her father’s shadow loomed there, and he leaned against the doorway.
“I know it’s Christmas vacation, but you still need to get some sleep, Minx,” He told her, smirking.
Sluggish, like he’d had a few drinks, his heavy eyelids glistened.
“Good night, Daddy,” she whispered, gripping the top of her covers.
“Good night, baby girl.” He winked before pulling the door closed.
Minx tried her hardest to sleep, but it wouldn’t come. All she could think about was Mickey when the snow fell. Her sister loved this time of year. There was nothing that compared for her. Four years had passed, and to Minx, that day was still pretty fresh in her mind. She was now thirteen years old, and when she was going through it in life, Mickey was always there for her. Nothing had been the same since her sister died. The world shifted, and she didn’t like it. The person she thought she would be able to turn to for advice and help her through the crazy teen years was missing. She felt it every single day.
When Minx’s eyes finally did get heavy, they were brought back open by the sound of tapping at her window. She didn’t see anyone there, but she knew she’d heard something. Propping herself up in bed, she glanced around her room while shadows from the night bounced off her walls. Minx tossed her covers aside and planted both feet in the soft rug underneath her bed. Creeping toward her window, her heart thudded loudly inside her chest. The wind picked up, so when she looked outside her window and saw the full-blown blizzard surrounding the house, she gasped.
A dark shadow flashed before her eyes, and she stumbled back when she spotted the hand pressed against her glass. Instant relief flickered over her face when she caught a glimpse of Ambrose through the blanket of flakes coming down. Rushing to pull the window upward for him, she stepped back and let him tumble in, carrying a gust of wind and flurries with him. He landed in a heap on her floor, balled up and trembling as the cold filled her bedroom. Shivering in pajama pants and a tank top, Minx made a dash to close the window, further blocking out the rest of the wintery storm.
“Rose, what are you doing here?” she asked, whipping around and hugging herself while looking him up and down sternly.
She looked a mess, and the older she got, the more self-conscious she became. She had a period now, her breasts were growing out of control, and she was inheriting what her mother called her Bennett ass. All of the women in her family were curvaceous.
“Shit, a nigga was checking in. I thought you might be up.” He chuckled, wincing and positioning himself against the side of her bed away from the door.
She noticed he held his arms around him, a hardened grimace on his face. At first she thought it might be because of the cold, until she studied his face and saw the bruises. Sprinting to his side, concern on her sweet angel face, she examined the swollen busted bottom lip and gash near his eye.
“What happened to you?” She whispered.
“I’m a’ight. Just a few bumps,” Rose insisted, groaning uncomfortably.
Minx knelt with concern. He was almost seventeen years old, and she was one of his best friends. He didn’t care what anybody thought, and everyone knew not to fuck with Minx, or Rose was coming for you. Staring into his eyes, she sensedthat he was lying and lifted his shirt. Not only were his ribs badly bruised, he had another deep gash in his abdomen. Sweat dripping at his forehead, he looked up at her.
“Rose!” Minx hissed, a tiny tremor running over her skin. “What happened to you?” Instead of waiting for an answer, she looked him over herself.
The cut didn’t look that deep, but everything needed to be cleaned and he was going to need ice for his ribs. She brought her worry-filled eyes back to his, watching him bite his bottom lip to distract himself from the pain.
“Ain’t shit but a scratch,” Rose spoke, bullheaded as usual.
Sucking her teeth, she stood. The bathroom that adjoined her and her sister’s bedroom was a few feet away. Minx rushed to gather the first aid supplies and came back.
