Loose

by Coo Sweet

"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 13

  The 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 some
thing 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.”

  Celia took her time answering. She looked at Raven with a burning intensity in her eyes. She wiped her mouth with her napkin, took a drink of water. Not once did she break eye contact with Raven.

  “I’m picking up an extra shift that night. Won’t be home until late,” Celia said.

  “Oh, I thought you were off,” Raven muttered, trying not to sound too pleased. “That’s okay. Maybe I can go some other time.”

  Celia took a long, mournful look at her granddaughter. Her face softened a little.

  “How did you plan on getting there?” she asked.

  Raven perked up, but not too much.

  “Tia’s sister is dropping us…I mean her…off. I could catch a ride with them.”

  Celia cracked a tentative smile—as if she worried it might become a habit detrimental to her perpetually rigid demeanor.

  “Alright. You can go, but I want you home as soon as the game is over. Understand?” Celia said.

  Raven jumped out of her seat. She rushed around the table and stood behind her grandmother’s chair, giving her a big hug.

  “Love you, Granny.”

  Celia patted Raven’s hand.

  “Love you, too, baby.”

  Raven gave her another squeeze.

  Before she got ready for bed, Raven tried on a pair of skinny jeans. She struggled with the zipper. When she sucked in a big breath, the jeans finally cooperated. Raven turned to the side. She examined her stomach in the mirror. The stiff denim helped force it flat.

  Satisfied with the results, Raven peeled the jeans off. She placed them on a chair, along with a colorful t-shirt. Walking back to the mirror, she inspected herself one more time just in her underwear. What she saw in her reflection was simply an average teen-aged girl. Not a mother-to-be.

  In her head Raven knew that would be her reality in a matter of months, but in her heart she longed to stop time or better yet, reverse it. Sure it was a crazy idea—an impossible one, but that’s what she clung to when she slipped into bed and fell asleep dreaming about her date with Sage.

  Chapter 14

  On the surface, Sage appeared fully prepared for his evening with Raven. He’d taken his usual painstaking time choosing his attire and getting dressed. The truck was clean and all gassed up. He had money in his wallet and plans for what they’d do after the game.

  But contrary to all that well-intentioned prepping was the way Sage felt in his head. Lately he’d been pushing back so hard against Serenity’s death grip on his life that he was mentally exhausted.

  Concocting one lie after the other; suppressing the load of guilt that wrapped itself around his conscience and squeezed it tight; turning a deaf ear to Serenity’s voice in his head. His life had become one big balancing act. All the energy and effort he exerted just to keep from becoming a complete casualty to his past was slowly draining his spirit. He could feel the essence of who he was slipping away.

  Sometimes that scared him more than Serenity’s meddling did.

  Lately there were far too many days when he felt like checking out completely. It would be so easy to just give Serenity what she wanted. Let her possess him for all eternity if that’s what it took to grab hold of a little peace.

  Sage squeezed the steering wheel tight as those thoughts ran through his head. He could hardly wait for Peyton to slide into the seat beside him. He knew he was in for a shit load of smack talk from his best friend, but at least he’d be forced to focus on the here and now—-not the past he was always running from.

  Peyton was going to the game stag that night. Not by choice. He wasted no time in sharing all the dirty details with Sage.

  “Man, I can’t believe Tia was messing around on me,” Peyton said.

  “Right, like you guys were really a couple or something,” Sage reminded him.

  “Hey, I don’t try to hide my game from the ladies. I may not be the most faithful guy, but I at least expected a little more loyalty from somebody as new to the game as she was. You know how many freshmen would kill to get a piece of this?”

  “I know you need to get over yourself,” Sage snorted.

  Peyton ignored the insult. Instead, he used the mirror on the passenger side visor to take inventory of the goodies he was referring to. He smoothed his shadow of a mustache with a couple of fingers. He ran his hands over his fresh haircut, then he raked them across the chiseled chest that strained against the shirt he’d purposely bought in a size smaller than what he usually wore.

  “Guess Tia was a little more hip to the game than she let on, huh?” Sage couldn’t help but tease him.

  Peyton sucked his teeth, “Yeah...whatever. That’s why she and her new man got popped by her moms while they were getting busy. Ha! Karma’s a bitch, baby. You can’t play with a master like me and get away with it.” Peyton grinned to himself as he checked out his reflection again. “I’m so glad he got hemmed up and not me.”

  “Uh, huh. Thought you didn’t worry about stuff like that? You know you dodged a bullet this time. Don’t expect it to always be like that,” Sage said.

  “Oh, I don’t worry about it. Trust me. But I also don’t like unnecessary drama. Matter of fact…you could take a tip from me on that one,” said Peyton, lighting jabbing Sage in the arm.

  Sage creased his brow. Focused on his driving.

  Okay, here we go, might as well get this over with, he thought.

  “What do you mean?” Sage asked.

 
At first Peyton leveled him with one raised eyebrow. Then he aimed and fired a straight shot.

  “You know exactly what I mean. What’s the deal with you asking Raven to go to the game? Thought you said she was a psycho, such a big pain in your ass.”

  Sage measured his words carefully before he answered.

  “Yeah, I know. She was a pain in the beginning, but we’ve been talking. She’s really not so bad. People just get the wrong impression because she’s a little rough around the edges.”

  Peyton turned to face Sage. He cupped a hand over his mouth. His eyes lit up as he read between the lines of Sage’s admission.