Legends of the Damned: A Collection of Edgy Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels

by Lindsey R. Loucks

  Without another word, Andre ran in the direction Raymond had pointed. He rounded the corner and slowed when he found who he was looking for. Julia sat alone on the stairs, almost like she was waiting for him.

  He walked towards her and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "What's up?" he asked. "I thought I'd lost you."

  She smiled with perfectly straight, white teeth. "I thought you would be getting your butt whooped by your momma."

  He laughed. "No. My mom is cool. She knows I like to talk noise." Andre lied. His momma was gonna kick his ass when she found out what he'd said. But Julia didn't need to know that.

  "Do you really think black girls look like cockroaches?" she asked incredulously. "That's harsh."

  "No. I was just trying to rag on Benita. I didn't think before I spoke." He grinned. "I talk too much sometimes."

  She nodded, looking as if she was giving his answer serious thought. He couldn't tell if she was happy to hear he didn't think black girls looked like cockroaches or disappointed.

  "There isn't anything wrong with them," he explained. "Benita liked me, but I wasn't interested. That's why she was talking all that noise."

  Julia nodded. This time, she looked more bored than anything.

  He sat beside her on the stairs. The sun had heated the step, and it was almost too hot to sit on. "Why haven't I seen you before?"

  "I just moved in last week."

  After thirty minutes, Andre learned Julia was a sophomore, one year below him, her first day at school would be Monday, and he'd left with her phone number.

  It was near ten and dark outside before Andre started the trek to his apartment. He'd thought about spending the night with Sean instead of going home. But he had a feeling his mother would track him down and beat him in front of the entire apartment complex.

  He stood outside the door, took a deep breath and turned the knob. He peered inside, hoping his mom would be already in bed. The lights and the TV were off. He couldn't remember the last time he'd stepped into the house before midnight without a television show or videos blaring in the background. The laundry from earlier was gone. He winced when he saw his mother sitting on the couch in the darkness.

  "Sit down, boy," she ordered.

  Wordlessly, he closed the door, switched on the lamp in the living room, and sat next to her.

  "I'm s. . ." he began, ready to defend himself.

  "Shut up," Pam Jackson ordered. "Is what Benita said true?" She must have just taken a shower because she wore a red bathrobe, and she smelled of cocoa butter lotion. A thick, see-through plastic shower cap covered the large pink foam rollers she had in her hair.

  "Momma, she was talking smack all up in my face." His voice sounded too loud and defensive even to him.

  "Did you tell Benita that black girls look like cockroaches?" Her voice was steady and sounded as if she hoped he would deny it.

  He clenched his jaw and focused his gaze on where he imagined the worsesome twins had wasted their sugary cereal, debating rather he should tell the truth or not.

  "Did you!" she shouted, startling him out of his thoughts.

  "Yes," he muttered, condemning himself. "But I didn't mean it."

  "You fixed your mouth to say it. You must think there is some truth to it." She turned to him. Her eyes were hard and glistening with tears. "Every time I go to the grocery store, people look at me like I'm a parasite because I use food stamps to feed my family. When I go out in public with four kids and no man in sight, I'm treated like a welfare queen. Outside of this house, I'm nothing but a cockroach to people who don't know me. To come home and learn that my son has said those words to another black woman." She wiped the tears from her face. "This is a hundred times worse than being treated like crap by everyone outside of my house. They don't matter to me, but you did." She stood and began walking to the back of the house.

  "But, Momma."

  She stopped. "I know I'm not perfect. I know we don't have nothin'. But I didn't raise you to disrespect women, especially black women."

  "But, Momma!" his voice cracked while tears fell onto his face.

  "Shut up!" she shouted. "I don't want to hear or see you anymore tonight. You're lucky I don't throw you out onto the streets."

  He closed his mouth and watched his mother walk into her room.

  Left alone, he longed for an ass whooping with a switch while she cursed him out. Because he knew the next day, she'd be herself again. She'd still be his mother. But as he watched her leave, the reassurance she would still love him was no longer there.

  His mother didn't say a word to him for the rest of the weekend. Whenever she looked his way, she scowled and rolled her eyes. To pile guilt on top of trouble, the worsesome twins, after hearing what he'd said to Benita, had asked if he thought they looked like cockroaches. His automatic response was to say yes and brush them off, but he hesitated.

  "Don't y'all already know you're pretty?" They were always showing off their new hairstyles and prancing around in identical outfits, looking for compliments from anybody who believed they were twins. How could they not know?

  "Yeah, but do you think we look like cockroaches?" one of them asked. "We're black girls. And you said black girls look like cockroaches." They stared at him with a steady, hard gaze like they already knew they wouldn't like his answer.

  He bent to one knee. For the first time since they were babies, he studied them, taking in their dark brown skin. Koko had a tooth missing in the front, and Kali had no front teeth on the top or bottom. Both had their mother's wide nose and large eyes. But even with missing teeth, they were beautiful.

  "Koko and Kali," he said. "You're the most beautiful girls I've ever seen. Y'all hair is always on point. And your clothes be styling more than anyone else in these apartments, even mine. Nah, y'all don't look like no damn cockroaches."

  They narrowed their eyes and pulled away from him. Then Kali, slightly taller than Koko, rolled her neck, and said, "Yeah, I know I'm fine."

  "Me too." Koko imitated Kali's head roll and snapped her fingers three times. They both sauntered away like two supermodels on a catwalk.

  Andre leaned against the wall next to the trophy case at the entrance of Gene Autry High School. He had never been so excited for school to start. His mother hadn't said a word to him for the entire weekend, and Malik teased him every time they saw each other. The weekend hadn't been a total let down, though.

  Saturday night, he hid in his room and talked to Julia until 1 A.M. Since his mother hadn't officially grounded him, the next day, he met up with Julia, and they walked around the surrounding neighborhood. It took a while and a lot of sweet-talking, but she let him kiss her on the jungle gym at an elementary school. She'd been chewing Big Chew bubble gum, and if he concentrated, he could still taste the cherry-flavored gum on his lips.

  "Hey, Andre," Sean said.

  "What's up?" Andre said, hoping he'd say what he wanted to say and go away. He was waiting for Julia. He was supposed to be on the bus, but he'd missed it trying to starch and crease his jeans. His brother had to take him to school instead. Because the buses were slow as hell, he'd still made it to school first. Andre wasn't jealous of Sean or anything, but girls always stared at him like he was L.L. Cool J.

  "I heard you got into it with Crazy Jade," Sean said.

  Andre straightened, steeling himself against the upcoming jokes. "You come to clown me too?"

  "Nah. I just want to know what she said to you."

  Andre studied Sean, trying to tell if he was lying. "Why?"

  "She's been doing some seriously crazy crap, and I'm curious."

  Suddenly Andre was curious, too. Why did he care about Crazy Jade? "She said something about if black girls are cockroaches, then I'm a cockroach too." Andre leaned back against the wall.

  "Is that it?" Sean asked.

  "She mumbled something I couldn't understand. I think she was pretending like she was cursing me. I didn't fall for it. You don't believe in that crap, do you?"
<
br />   "I don't know, man. How do you feel?"

  Andre shrugged. "I feel fine."

  "Then, you're probably okay. Just stay away from her, and if anything changes or you start feeling weird, let me know."

  "Yeah. Yeah. Yeah." Andre stepped away from Sean. He had spotted Julia in the crowd of bus kids. Julia made him forget about Crazy Jade, his mother, and cockroaches. She made all of his problems go away.

  Clothes. Check. Andre had to tighten the belt on a pair of his brother's old Calvin Klein jeans an extra loop, but they still looked good. He made a mental note to eat more. His mom had gone shopping yesterday, and he planned to spend the next few days eating everything he could get away with.

  Hair. Check.

  He breathed into his hand to check his breath and cringed. It smelled like rotting meat. Andre quickly put twice as much toothpaste onto his toothbrush and brushed again.

  "Andre, hurry up. You've been in there too long," one of the worsesome twins shouted through the other side of the door.

  "Shut up and wait," he shouted back.

  "Get out of the bathroom, Andre," his mother yelled.

  Oh crap. "Yes, ma'am." He picked up his dirty clothes and used towels before he quickly left the bathroom. For the past few days, he'd been extra respectful, and he tried his best to do what she wanted before she even had to ask.

  With a few minutes to spare before the bus, he threw his backpack on the kitchen counter and opened the refrigerator. His stomach rumbled. There was a fridge full of food, but nothing looked good. Everything seemed cold, sterile, and unappealing.

  But something smelled good. He closed the fridge and followed the smell to the trash can. They had fried chicken, yams, and mashed potatoes last night for dinner. The smell of the decaying food made his mouth water.

  "What are you doing?"

  He jumped away from the trash and looked towards his mother. "Nothing, I was just throwing something away."

  "Really? Because that's not what it looked like."

  "What else would I be doing with the trash?" he asked, wondering the same thing. What the hell had I been doing?

  Andre's heart deflated when Julia wasn't at the bus stop. Without her, he had no choice but to think about how he'd almost eaten food out of the trash. He'd been hungry plenty of times, but he'd never been so hungry he wanted to eat garbage.

  After the long bus ride, Julia's slender legs were the first things he saw when he entered the school. She had missed the bus this time, and she stood in the same spot he had been yesterday. Her smile made all of his crazy thoughts about eating out of the trash disappear. He returned her smile tenfold. Ordinarily, he would have tried to remain hard and hide his joy, but he needed a distraction. He needed to relax.

  He bent to kiss her, but she cringed and moved backward.

  "What's wrong?" he asked.

  "Your breath smells." Her pink lips twisted into a grimace, and she stepped further away.

  He breathed into his hand.

  "I don't smell anything," he said. It had smelled bad this morning, but he brushed his teeth twice, and now it smelled fine.

  She looked around like she was planning an escape route.

  Panic rose in his throat. "What does it smell like?"

  Julia covered her nose and mouth. "I have to go," she said in a muffled voice before she half-jogged and half ran down the hall, dodging the crowd of students hurrying to their first hour class.

  He sniffed his breath again before he smelled his armpits. Nothing.

  For the rest of the day, every time Julia saw him, she ducked, dodged, or acted like he didn't exist. He couldn't smell anything wrong, but as an extra precaution, he went to the bathroom and washed his armpits with a damp towel. And in between every class, he'd stick a fresh piece of spearmint gum into his mouth.

  The school day went by in a blur while he thought about what could be bothering Julia. Yesterday, the rumor he and Julia were a couple had spread rapidly around the school. Today, when everyone asked about her, he laughed it off and said he didn't do girlfriends. He joked and laughed, pretending to be the clown everyone expected him to be. But he felt like a zombie, a living dead person, going through the motions, pretending his heart wasn't being torn out of his chest.

  Andre lived for basketball, but when the day was over, he skipped practice, went home, laid on his bed, and fell mercifully into a dreamless sleep.

  Something damp clung to Andre's back, and his stomach rumbled. He didn't know how long he'd been aware of the two warring sensations, but they were finally too uncomfortable to ignore. The bedspread covering his window had fallen, and the light from the lamppost beamed onto his face, blinding him. He covered his eyes and sat up. Wondering if he was sick, he touched his forehead, and his hand came away hot and sweaty.

  Except for his rumbling stomach, the apartment was deathly quiet. He looked over to Malik's bed to make sure he wasn't alone in the house. "Malik, did Momma cook?" Andre asked. "Why didn't anyone wake me?"

  Malik mumbled something indecipherable, turned over on his twin-sized mattress, and pulled the covers over his head.

  Hungry and sweaty, Andre made his way to the kitchen. The smell of something delicious called to him. He followed the scent to the trash can.

  As usual, the worsesome twin's eyes must have been bigger than their stomachs because the garbage was filled with leftovers. Limp spaghetti noodles, half eaten pieces of garlic bread covered with lumpy spaghetti sauce, and golden chunks of peaches lay in the trash can. His stomach ached with hunger and desire. He directed his gaze towards the hallway and the living room to make sure no one was coming. Assured he was alone, he reached in and stuffed the harmonious mixture of stale bread, rotting peaches, limp spaghetti noodles and tomato sauce into his mouth. A surge of pleasure started at his tongue and traveled down to his toes while he chewed.

  He'd never tasted anything so delicious. He devoured three more pleasurable handfuls before his thoughts fell back on Julia. The pleasure of the food and the joy of being with her mingled in his mind, and he forgot about what happened earlier in school. Andre walked away from the trash, wiped his hands on his pants, picked up the phone mounted on the kitchen wall, and dialed her number.

  "Hello," she said, answering on the tenth ring. She sounded sleepy, but she should have been awake waiting for him to call.

  "Hey, baby," he said.

  "Who is this?"

  He deepened his voice. "Andre."

  "Oh." She sounded suddenly alert and happy to hear him. Good.

  "Dre, I'm sorry. But I think we're going too fast."

  "What!" he shouted before he lowered his voice. "What are you talking about?"

  "I'm sorry. It's me, not you."

  "Hell no, it ain't me. We were fine yesterday."

  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lead you on."

  "Are you seeing someone else?" Andre asked, trying desperately to come up with a reason why she would change her mind so quickly.

  "No," Julia said. "I'm just not interested anymore. I need to concentrate on school."

  "You're lying. You found somebody else didn't you?" He sounded like a punk, but he couldn't help it.

  "No, Dre. It's not like that. I have to go."

  "Don't. . ." he began, but she had already hung up.

  He didn't remember falling asleep, but he knew his eyes were closed and his face itched. He brought his hand up to scratch, but the itch grew legs, and it scurried across his face.

  Begrudgingly, Andre sat up. When he opened his eyes, hundreds of bugs scattered away. He recoiled, screaming when he realized they were all over him. He jumped, hysterically wiping them from his arms, chest, and legs. He felt the crunch and the wetness of dead bugs underneath his bare feet while he tried to get them off. When he pulled them away from his face, they squirmed beneath his fingers.

  "Andre, what's wrong? Why are you in here screaming?" His mother stood in the living room. Malik was next to her, holding a baseball bat over his head. His eyes were
alert, searching for someone to attack. The worsesome twins peeked from the hallway, too scared to enter the living room.

  "There were bugs on me," he said once his breathing slowed enough to speak.

  "Why the hell are you sleeping on the front room floor?" Malik asked, lowering his bat.

  "I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep." Andre wiped his forehead. Half a dozen bugs were lying motionless on the floor. The rest had disappeared.

  "That's what you get for going to bed so early," his mother said. "I tried to wake you, but you wouldn't have it."

  With the excitement wearing off, the room began to spin, and Andre collapsed onto the couch. "I don't feel very well," he said.

  His mother walked over and put her hand on his head. "You're burning up, baby." She looked worried, almost like she loved him again.

  "Go to bed, Dre. You're staying home today. If you're not feeling better by the time I get off work, I'm taking you to the hospital."

  4

  Latreece

  Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. - Neil Gaiman, The Sandman

  White floors, white wall, white principal, with mostly white students pretty much summed up Gene Autry High School. Latreece hated this school. She wished she had stayed on the east side and gone to Douglass, one of the only mostly black high schools in Oklahoma City. The school was so popular most of the graduates bought the school's car tags and displayed them on their vehicles like they were a badge of honor. But no, Granny wanted to get out of the hood and away from crackheads, drug dealers, and gangs. So, four years ago, they moved to the northwest side of town. Now, Latreece attended a school in the middle of nowhere, surrounded on three sides by cow pastures.

  Latreece slouched in her chair with her arms folded across her chest while Principal Kerr talked to Granny.