Mean Tucker- the Bully

by Edwina Fort

  Please, somebody, come in and help me. I was in the hands of a backyard bully!

  “Look at me, Free.”

  I couldn’t…His eyes were too intense and they worked havoc on my soul. He was my bully. He should never be able to get into my soul. I shook my head and he shook me…

  “Look at me!”

  My gaze lowered to his and I nearly groaned at the look I saw there.

  “Why don’t you ever look at me? You look at Rachel and all the rest of your little geek squad rejects.”

  I was now clutching his big shoulders to keep from falling. “They’re not rejects.”

  “Why do you care so much for them? You won’t even f***ing look at me.”

  And then a thought hit me. Is that why he was always picking on me?

  It’s true, I had a small little group of friends. And yes, we were the rejects, but I did my best to make them feel special. No, we weren’t the Beautiful Ones, but we were the smart ones. When we were together, we laughed and talked about stuff that we were interested in and we completely ignored the Beautiful Ones, something the rest of the school never did.

  When the Beautiful Ones entered a room, everybody stopped to stare, especially if their king was with them.

  Now here he was on his knee in front of me, asking me why I ignored him. Serves him right, someone should ignore him. He was used to things coming too easy for him. His looks coupled with his family’s money had completely spoiled him.

  However, he was wrong about me not looking at him. I’d done more than that. I’d studied him. It was safe to say he was the reason I’d chosen to pursue psychology like my father. Earlier, when I’d said he suffered from multi-personality disorder, I was not simply venting, it’s true.

  I don’t think anybody else noticed it, but Tucker can turn his emotions off like a light switch. He becomes a completely different person when he does. I’d only seen this happen a few times and each time had been when he was fighting.

  During sophomore year, another school had come to play us. Tucker and a member of the other team got in a fight. Something came over Mean Tuck and he ruthlessly beat that kid down. He beat him so bad that the coaches and other members of the team were afraid to get close to him to break it up.

  When he was done and the kid was unconscious, he just stepped over the guy, leaving him bleeding on the ground and never even looked back.

  Apparently, that guy was in a gang, because a few days later, he came back with some of his friends. They showed up thinking because Tucker was rich, he was going to be afraid of them.

  Goodness, I’ll never forget the look on his face when the change came over him. He wore an evil grin as they jumped out their cars yelling and posturing like boys their age do, telling him what they were going to do to him. They were yelling out the name of their gang.

  Not impressed in the least, Tucker made eye contact with Jackson, who’d been leaning on the gate and then, I kid y’all not, Jackson and Tucker proceeded to whoop those guys’ tails. And I can’t prove it, but I think that Tucker and Jackson may have taken it a step further. A few days later, the bodies of some of the gang members were found with their necks broken.

  Of course, being the sons of the mayor and the town’s sheriff, nothing happened to Tucker and Jackson. The cops didn’t even come and question them. He and Jackson were hailed as some kind of heroes for defeating a gang of boys by themselves. But when word got out that some of those same guys had been found dead, people started to speculate that it was Tucker and Jackson.

  I don’t know if he did it or not, but I know that the guy who he’d beaten up on the other team never came back with any more of his friends, and when his school played ours again later in the season, he didn’t come with them.

  I was convinced that the Tucker that beat up those guys is not the same Tucker that terrorized me. The Tucker that terrorized me was the one here before me. He cared about things, like whether or not I saw him.

  That other Tucker, the Tucker I think may have broken those guys necks, didn’t care about anything. He didn’t show signs of feeling any emotion at all.

  “I care for them,” I told him, referring to his question about my friends who he and his posse referred to as the geek squad. “Because nobody else does. There are some of us whose life hasn’t been all that kind to.” And then I snatched away from him and walked towards the locker room.

  I expected him to come after me or try and trip me…or throw something at me, but when none of that happened and I made it to the door that led into the locker room in one piece, I risked a peek back at him and was surprised to see him still on his knee where I’d left him watching me.

  Senior year, he’d started invading my sanctuary… the library. He would do things like snatch whatever book I was reading from me and toss it in the toilet or pour his soda all over it right when I’m at a good part.

  I’d tried to tell Ms. Grey, the school librarian on him, but just like every other teacher here, she was completely enamored with him and wouldn’t even begin to lift a finger to serve him with a disciplinary action.

  He got away with murder, literally and figuratively. Because he’d taken the football team to state all four years and brought back a championship, the whole town loved him. I couldn’t even call the cops on him because he was the sheriff’s son’s best friend.

  I tried to tell Angie that I needed help because he was bullying me and she’d only laughed…

  “Yeah right! The Pelletier boy is not thinking about you.” She gestured toward me. “Look at you, what is there to think about? He’s probably just picking on you trying to get one of your sister’s attention. You know how boys that age are.”

  I wanted to laugh at that. Both Layla and Laureen have been trying to be Mean Tuck’s and Jackson’s girls for all four years of high school and probably before that, I wasn’t here to know for sure. But because it was no secret that the twins and the rest of the cheerleaders got around, I don’t think he looked at them as girlfriend material.

  In fact, I don’t think he looked at any girl here as girlfriend material because I have yet to hear about him having a girlfriend, although I’ve heard about him sleeping with girls plenty.

  Nevertheless, Angie was no help. Although my mom had named me Free, I felt far from it. Mean Tuck held me prisoner to his cruelty and there was nothing I could do about it. As you can see, he can murder me and nobody would even bat an eye because he was the town’s golden boy.

  So I was biding my time. I just focused on keeping my grades up. The money my father had left me had gotten me an acceptance letter to the Grambling University. I was going for their Sociology and Psychology program. When I was done, I wanted to be able to help people like my mom, who had habits they could not break. Maybe I can help someone before they ended up dead like her.

  Yes…I was counting the days before I was free of this hell that was my life.

  Most girls dreamed of prom night. They sat starry-eyed and imagined how they would look in their beautiful gowns and how good they would look standing next to their princes.

  Not me. I dreaded it and wouldn’t have gone if Angie hadn’t forced me.

  “You only get one prom. Every girl should have those memories to hold onto.” Then she handed me twenty-five dollars and told me to go shopping for what I needed.

  Twenty-five dollars…

  Lucky for me, Rachel is the thrift store queen. She often bragged about her skills. Although I was dreading prom night, she and I had fun shopping for it. We rode the bus to Michigan City and made a day of it.

  “You know what’s so bad? Right now, your stepmom and sisters are probably sitting in some fancy fitting room sipping champagne while they get fitted for the gowns,” Rachel said as she and I looked through the racks at one of her favorite thrift stores.

  I shrugged. “Angie once told me that she didn’t owe me anything…” I paused for a moment. “And you know what? She’s right. She doesn’t owe me nothing. Both of my parents
are dead and really, everything she does for me is just from her good will.”

  Rachel rolled her beautiful eyes. Like her mom, she was what folks around these parts called an exotic beauty. I don't know where her people originated from, but she looked as if she was from the Pacific Islands somewhere.

  If she hadn’t been forced to wear her mother’s scarlet letter, somebody like Jackson would be competing with the other boys for her hand rather than torturing her, because he knew nobody cared what happened to the town prostitute’s daughter.

  “Good will my a**. You’re a modern-day Cinderella. You clean their house, do all the laundry, cook all the food…Put up with those twin demon seeds she calls children and the best she can do is hand you twenty-five dollars?” She shook her head. “Nothing good happens to people like her.”

  I know she was probably thinking about her mom, who’s selfish careless ways had ruined many things for Rach…I don’t want to tell you guys too much of her tale because I've heard it on good authority that she will be telling y’all her tale herself really soon…

  So… No spoilers…

  LOL… Anyway, we found the perfect dress for me. At first, I was a little worried because it was yellow and I don’t think people wore yellow dresses to prom, but then I thought, who cares? The dress is beautiful and I wanted it.

  It called to me. The yellow wrap dress looked so good against my brown skin. Once I moisturized really good, it was really going to make my melanin pop. I was a little uncomfortable with the split on the side that went up almost to my thigh. But Rachel said because it’s a maxi dress, it will be perfect.

  The dress was so long it will drag the ground even if I wore heels, so I didn’t bother. We found some beautiful golden sandals with long laces that wrapped about my legs Roman style for only two dollars and fifty cents.

  I went to Rachel's house to get dressed on prom night. I was the only one who'd ever been to her house because it really wasn't much of a house. They barely had any furniture and the few pieces they had were very dirty. Her mom did a lot of entertaining and it always smelled like a bar in here.

  Rachel had two locks on her room door, but even that didn’t keep some of her mom’s friends out. Sometimes I snuck her in my room so that she could sleep safe, which wasn’t hard to do because my room was in the basement and nobody really came down there.

  Rachel was not ashamed to bring me to her house because she and I were in the same boat. Both of us were living our own personal hells, counting down the days till we could be free. Poor Rach still had a whole year left.

  Anyway, I went to her place to get dressed so that she could do my hair and make-up. She braided my hair in two long braids and then wrapped them around my head like a crown, before weaving pretty yellow flowers in it.

  She went light on the make-up because she said I didn’t need it.

  “You are so pretty, Free, you don’t need any make-up…You already look like a chocolate baby doll.” I smiled hugging her close. I loved Rachel. At that time in my life, she was the only person who cared for me.

  When she was done, I stood in her mirror staring at my reflection in disbelief. Somehow, she’d made me look like a princess.

  “Thank you so much, Rach, you worked a miracle.” She playfully hit my arm.

  “Yeah right, I think you’re the only one unaware of how beautiful you are. It’s the reason your stepsisters are so jealous of you.”

  I shook my head at that. Rach has been saying that since I’ve known her, but I didn’t think it was true. Layla and Laureen had beautiful clothes and spent hours at the hair salon and nail parlor. They weren’t jealous of me. I was the nobody that stayed in their basement, living off their charity.

  Anyway, a group of my friends and I decided to go together since no one had asked us. We agreed to meet at Dillion’s house and have a cocktail before we went. And although neither of us said it, we really were drinking some liquid courage.

  By the time we entered the prom, we were all a little tipsy. And I’m not going to lie, I ended up having a really good time, even when the Beautiful Ones entered and even when their king entered looking extremely handsome in his suit with Tamesha Walker on his arm.

  In fact, I threw my head back and laughed because I knew that both Layla and Laureen had hoped that it would have been them, but he hadn’t chosen either of them. It made sense that he chose Tamesha, she was the most popular girl in the school.

  Love Child by Diana Ross came on, it was one of my favorite songs in the whole world. Thanks to the four glasses of champagne I had, I didn’t hesitate to turn around and face my friends, who cheered me on and I pretended to be Diana.

  They laughed as I did a really horrible impersonation.

  You think that I don't feel love,

  What I feel for you is real love. In other's eyes, I see reflected a hurt, scorned, rejected.

  Love Child, never meant to be,

  Love Child, born in poverty,

  Love Child, never meant to be,

  Love Child, take a look at me.

  Although my friends laughed, they had no idea how much I related to this song… They had no idea that I was that Love Child…

  I started my life in an old, cold, rundown tenement slum.

  My father left, he never even married Mom.

  I shared the guilt my mama knew,

  So afraid that others knew I had no name.

  This love we're contemplating, is worth the pain of waiting.

  We'll only end up hating the child we may be creating.

  Love Child, never meant to be,

  Love Child, by society,

  Love Child, never meant to be,

  Love Child, diff'rent from the rest.

  At some point, I got lost in the song and hugged myself as I continued to dance…

  I started school in a worn, torn, dress that somebody threw out.

  I knew the way it was to always live in doubt,

  To be without the simple things,

  So afraid my friends could see the guilt in me.

  Don't think I don't need you,

  Don't think I don't want to please you.

  No child of mine'll be bearing the name of shame I've been wearin'.

  Love Child, never quite as good,

  What was to become of me? Now that high school was practically over, my life would officially begin… I continued to dance to the song, completely lost in my head, however when my back came up against something solid, I froze and whipped around.

  My hand flew to my mouth when I saw that I’d bumped into Tucker. He stood looking at me as if this was his first time ever seeing me.

  “Sorry, Mean Tuck!” I told him before a giggle slipped through my lips.

  But then I thought, why am I apologizing? He must have walked up to me, because I was still standing close to my friends, who all now watched him warily, like sheep who’d just spotted a lion.

  His gaze flew up to mine. He must have just realized I was a little tipsy. “Do you know you’re the only one at this school brave enough to give me a nickname?”

  I thought about his words… It was true. I will never forget the day I first let the name slip through my lips. I was running late for algebra, freshmen year and he rounded the corner at the same time I did. I went around him, but he still took offense and knocked my books out of my arms.

  I was so mad that I turned around and called him Mean Tuck… I wanted to tell him he was a Mean F*** but got scared and changed my mind at the last minute and Mean Tuck came out my mouth instead. I guess I’ve been calling him that ever since. But you know what was amazing that I’d just realized? He’d never stopped me. I mean, at any point and time, he could have been like, don’t call me that and I would have been like, you got it.

  “Yeah, but I’m not brave. You terrify me.”

  Wow! The champagne had the truth slipping through my lips very easily. I know tomorrow I was going to regret it.

  He chuckled as his gaze continued to take m
e in. “You look really pretty, Free.”

  My mouth opened in shock, but then I closed it back. “Yeah right, what’s the catch? You going to pour glue in my hair or trip me,” I chuckled. “You going to try and rip my dress?”

  As soon as the words escaped my lips, I regretted it. His gaze lowered to the tie in my dress. I froze when his hand grabbed it. One pull and my dress will open.

  “Looks like the only thing I have to do is pull this string.”

  “Come on, Tucker…give her a break tonight,” Dillion, the bravest of our crew said, taking a cautious step forward.

  Tucker’s gaze rose from my waist to look at Dillion. The frown that came upon his face was breathtaking.

  “What?!” he growled, causing both Dillion and I to jump.

  “Nothing, bro…” my very wise friend said taking a few steps back.

  “That’s what the f*** I thought.” Then his gaze came back to me and his eyes softened again.

  “What you going to do to keep me from pulling this string?”

  “I—” at a complete loss for words I looked around for a teacher, but then he started pulling the string.

  “What do you want me to do?” I cried, grabbing his big hand.

  “Go for a ride with me.”

  “Ummm…”

  He started pulling the string again. “Okay!” I squeaked.

  With a satisfied smile on his face, he held his hand out to me. The hand I put in his shook. He led me out the gym past his date, who was steaming mad and the other Beautiful Ones.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Layla asked me walking toward us, she was steaming too.

  “Sit,” was all Tucker said and I promise, she did just that.

  I couldn't help the laughter that escaped my throat as he continued to pull me out of the gym. I looked back and she was still sitting, I laughed harder. I knew she was going to make me pay tomorrow for that, but I couldn’t help it. He’d just ordered her to sit like a dog and she’d done it.

  However, by the time we made it to Tucker’s truck, all my laughter had died down as my nervousness came back. And let me tell y’all something about this nervousness, if it hadn’t been for the champagne, it would be outright terror.