The Fix 2 Page 11

  Thankfully, Persia managed to make it through the rest of the day without incident, but this changed as she was preparing to leave school. While she was in her locker, loading books and taking out her purse and Discman, she accidentally dropped one of her CDs, cracking it. The worst part was that it had been one of her favorite CDs, Mary J. Blige’s My Life. Persia would always listen to that CD when she was going through something. It was like soul therapy for her. Persia decided that before she got on the bus to go home, she would walk the few blocks to Best Buy to replace her CD.

  Persia had intended on getting in and out of Best Buy and back to the bus station quickly, but Best Buy happened to be crowded that afternoon. They were having some type of meet and greet event, and it had brought out scores of young people, and media outlets. At first Persia thought it was for a rapper, or singer, but when she found out that it had something to do with an upcoming sporting event, she lost interest and focused on the task of tracking down her CD. As Persia was browsing the R&B section, she couldn’t help but to notice there was a young man in the rap section who kept looking over at her. He stood about six foot four, with rich chocolate skin and innocent eyes.

  When Persia finally caught him looking at her, there was an energy that passed between them that she couldn’t explain. She could tell he felt it too. The hairs on her arm stood up, as they silently communicated, using nothing but their eyes. Persia felt like she knew him, as if the chocolate young man had been the figment of some long-forgotten dream, made real. It was only when Persia felt the subtle warmth building at the center of her that she managed to tear her eyes away. It had been ages since she had slept with anyone and the last man she let touch her had defiled her in ways that she cared not to remember.

  Persia kept scrolling through the CDs. She found the Mary J. Blige CD she had been looking for, and stood there for a few minutes, reading the track list. Persia knew the album forward and backward, but it was a stall tactic to keep from making eye contact with the young man again. She wondered if he was still looking her way, but dared not peek. Eventually her curiosity got the best of her and she looked over her shoulder to where the young man had been standing. Part of her was disappointed when she’d noticed that he had gone and part of her was relieved. If he had still been standing there staring, she didn’t trust herself not to say anything to him and with those gorgeous lips of his, there was no telling where a simple exchange of words would’ve taken her.

  “I think Share My World was a better album,” someone said over Persia’s shoulder, scaring her damn near half to death. She turned and saw it was the chocolate young man.

  “Damn, didn’t anybody ever tell you that it’s rude to just be walking up on people like that?” Persia asked, with an attitude to mask the fact that he had rattled her.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” the young man said.

  “I didn’t say you scared me. I’m just not used to people invading my space,” Persia shot back.

  “I see your mouth is still as slick as ever, Persia.” The young man smirked.

  Persia was taken aback. “I’m sorry, do we know each other?”

  The young man shook his head. “I don’t know why I’d expect you to remember. You were smashed out of your mind the night we met.”

  Persia suddenly felt ill. She knew that during the period of her life when she was into drugs and partying she had done some things that she would’ve liked to have forgotten and some things that she just flat out didn’t remember. She hoped to God that she had never gone anything embarrassing in front of that fine specimen of a man.

  The young man picked up on the conflicted look on Persia’s face and knew exactly what she was trying to figure out, which made him laugh. “Nah, it wasn’t like that. I met you and your two white friends at a club. I’m Vaughn.” He extended his hand.

  Suddenly it all came back to Persia and she realized why she felt like she knew him when she saw him. She and Vaughn had met for the first on the night everything had happened at the club. He was with the entourage of rappers they had met in the VIP area. Vaughn wasn’t a part of the rap group, but the cousin of the group’s manager, Tone. If she recalled correctly, he was a college student at the time. She remembered Tone saying he played football at some school in Virginia. Unlike the loud and brash rappers, Vaughn was soft-spoken and polite. In fact, it had been Vaughn who tried to stop Persia from going overboard when she was drug bingeing with everyone else. He seemed like a nice enough guy and to her knowledge hadn’t had anything to do with what had happened to Marty, but in Persia’s mind he was guilty by association.

  “Now I know where I remember you from,” Persia spat and stomped off toward the register.

  “Wait a second, Persia.” Vaughn caught up with her and grabbed her by the arm, but Persia jerked away angrily. He held his hands up in surrender, letting her know he meant no harm. “Listen, I’m sorry to hear about what happened to your friend, but on my life I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

  “Did you try and stop it?” she asked.

  “No,” Vaughn said shamefully, “but had I known what would happen, I would’ve. When your friends left with my cousin and the guys, I went home to get some sleep and headed back to Virginia the next day. I didn’t hear what happened until a few days later. I haven’t spoken to my cousin since then.”

  “Why, because you didn’t want to be marked as an accomplice?” Persia asked sarcastically.

  “No, because I’m no fucking rapist and don’t want to be associated with one, even if it is my family,” Vaughn said seriously.

  “So why are you telling me this? Are you trying to assuage yourself of the guilt?” Persia asked.

  “To be honest, I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, except for the fact that I feel like I needed to say it. I’m no angel, but I’m no monster either,” Vaughn said sincerely. “There hasn’t been a day that has gone by where I don’t ask myself if I had stayed, could I have prevented what happened to that girl.”

  Persia wanted to spit in Vaughn’s face and tell him to get away from her. She wanted to claw his eyes out and scream, “This is for Marty!” but she couldn’t. What happened to Marty was no more his fault than it was hers. Marty was dead and so were her attackers, so there was no sense to holding on to old grudges. One of the things she had learned in recovery was how to let go of the past and hold on to the future.

  “Vaughn,” someone called from the end of the music aisle. Persia looked up and saw an attractive white girl, dressed in a formfitting skirt and expensive shoes. Her pale green eyes stared at Persia accusingly. Typical country nigga, Persia thought about their interracial relationship. Vaughn held up his finger, signaling to the girl that he needed a minute.

  “You better get going. I don’t want your girlfriend thinking I’m trying to steal her man’s heart,” Persia said sarcastically.

  Vaughn laughed. “You can’t steal something that’s given willingly. Anyway, I’m not gonna take up too much of your time, Persia. I just wanted to offer you my condolences for your friend and to tell you that I’m sorry.”

  “You said you didn’t have anything to do with what happened to Marty, so what’re you sorry for?”

  “I’m not apologizing for what happened to Marty, I’m apologizing for allowing you to leave with that clown-ass dude you were with instead of making you mine that night.”

  His statement made Persia blush. “You really think you’ve got game, don’t you?”

  “Whether I’ve got game or not is a matter of public opinion, but that’s another story all together. Maybe one day I’ll tell it to you.”

  Persia twisted her lips in disbelief. “I hear you talking.”

  “No, you don’t, but you will. See you around, Persia,” Vaughn told her and started toward the white girl.

  Persia stood there for a few minutes, watching Vaughn and the white girl. From her body language and the way she kept cutting her eyes at Persia, she could tell the white gir
l was agitated. This made Persia smile, knowing that she still had it in her to make other women insecure. She spent so much time being down on herself after her bout with addiction that she sometimes forgot that she was a beautiful girl. Her conversation with Vaughn reminded her of that. She promised herself that if she saw him again, she would thank him for the wakeup call.

  CHAPTER 12

  Persia got off the bus at her stop, feeling pretty good about herself. There was nothing like Mary J. and the affections of a handsome man to make a girl feel like all was right with the world. She was floating on a cloud, but little did she know, there was a storm on the horizon.

  She spotted them as she was walking home. Asia, Jean, and Vickie were posted up in front of the hamburger joint where all the kids in that neighborhood congregated. There were about seven or eight of them all together and they were all glaring across the street at Persia. Persia wasn’t a coward, but she wasn’t a fool either. There were too many of them to take all at once so she started walking like she didn’t even see them.

  The gang of girls fell in step behind Persia and followed her down the block. She could hear them behind her, calling her bitches and other nasty names, but she didn’t turn around. Persia quickened her steps and the girls matched her pace. The insults got louder and the mob more unruly. It was obvious they weren’t going to leave it alone. Persia slipped her hand into her purse, and kept walking. She heard the heavy footfalls of someone running up behind her, and that’s when she finally made her move. Persia spun, pulling the lock in a sock from her purse and swung it. The weapon connected with the cheek of the girl who had been rushing up behind her. The impact from the lock in a sock knocked the girl completely senseless and put her to sleep on the curb. She was some random chick Persia had never seen before, but it didn’t matter. The battle was on and anybody who wanted it was going to get it.

  Persia took a defensive stance, twirling the lock in a sock like a helicopter blade. “Okay, bitches, whose next?”

  Another one of the girls foolishly tried to penetrate Persia’s defenses and it cost her. Persia tried to cave her skull in, but when she raised her arm to protect her face, it took the brunt of the strike. From the cracking sound and the way the girl shrieked it was a good bet that her arm was broken. When the rest of the girls saw that Persia meant business, they wisely kept their distance.

  “Punk bitch, why do you need a weapon?” Vickie shouted. Her tone was nasally because of her broken nose.

  “Same you need a bunch of chicks with you to fight!” Persia shot back. She was whirling the lock back and forth, keeping it in motion so she wouldn’t have to wind up if she had to swing again.

  “You broke my sister’s nose and you think I’m just gonna let that go?” Jean spoke up.

  “It ain’t for you to hold on to or let go, Jean. You and your sister know why she got her nose broke and if it wasn’t for the little lynch mob I’d be over there breaking the rest of her,” Persia spat. “Sarah didn’t deserve that and under different odds, I’d be showing the both of you how I feel about people shitting on my friends.”

  “Fuck you, Persia.” Vickie acted like she wanted to charge at Persia but two of her friends stopped her. Her struggle to get free of them was a less than convincing one. “I don’t need any backup to kick a crackhead whore’s ass! I swear to God I wish they would let me go so I could break your nose like you did mine,” Vickie boasted.

  “Then show me right,” Persia challenged. “Just me and you, Vickie. No crews and no weapons.”

  “Forget all this, let’s just rush her. She can’t take us all down,” Vickie suggested. The mob of girls moved to surround Persia, but a look from Asia stopped them. Vickie looked from her crew to Asia, clearly confused. “What are you doing, Asia? Let’s kick her ass and be done with it.”

  Asia’s looked from Persia to Vickie. “Like you said, you don’t need any help with a crackhead whore.” When she spoke her words were clear and sharp, still carrying the faintest traces of a German accent. “Break her nose like she did yours. We won’t deny you your glory.”

  The move had caught Vickie totally off guard. She had expected them to rat pack Persia and beat her down, but having a one on one fight wasn’t something she had planned for.

  “Y’all gonna get it in or not?” Asia instigated.

  Vickie stood there like a deer caught in headlights. It was obvious that she really didn’t want to fight and she was trying to think of a way to worm out of it. Jean picked up on her sister’s fear and knew that she had to save face for both of them.

  “Damn all this. I’ll fight you.” Jean stepped into the center of the crowd, and put her guard up.

  Persia was hesitant. Jean was a big girl, but Persia was sure she could take her. If play fights on the playground with dudes like Li’l Monk and Charlie had done anything they taught her how to defend herself.

  “No need to worry, Persia. You’re good and you have my word on that,” Asia assured her from the sidelines where she stood with an amused look on her face.

  Persia didn’t know Asia very well, but there was something about the way she carried herself that made Persia feel like she was an honorable chick and would keep her word if she gave it. As Persia leaned down to put her lock on the ground and prepared to square off with Jean, she only hoped her instincts had been right about Asia.

  “This is for my sister, bitch,” Persia heard Jean shout, before her meaty fist made contact with Persia’s jaw. She had launched a sneak attack while Persia was laying her weapon down.

  Persia stumbled and almost went down, but pressed her hand against the ground to steady herself. Jean tried to rush her while she was down, but was met by Persia’s foot to her chest. The big girl staggered back, gasping and trying to recover the wind Persia had just knocked out of her. In an instant, Persia was back on her feet, pressing her attack. Persia hit Jean with a mean two piece to the face, and followed up with a punch to one of her big-ass breasts. It was dirty pool, but there were no rules in street fighting.

  Jean came back, throwing vicious but uncoordinated hooks trying to knock Persia’s head off, but the smaller girl danced out of her reach. Persia faked high, but went low and landed two solid punches to Jean’s stomach. Jean retaliated with a right cross, that Persia slipped under and clocked her on the chin. For every punch Jean threw, Persia hit her with two. Jean was as strong as a bull, but she was unskilled and slow while Persia was swift and knew how to box. Persia danced around Jean, destroying her with hooks to the head and body. Jean tried to dip her head and rushed Persia in an attempt to overpower her, but that proved to be her undoing. Persia fired her knee up, connecting with Jean’s chin and knocking her down.

  Persia was straddling Jean, about to finish her, when she caught a flicker of movement from the corner of her eye. She tried to move out of the way, but wasn’t fast enough to avoid the book-filled knapsack that Vickie was swinging at her. Persia was able to raise her arms to keep it from hitting her in the face, but the force still knocked her over. Persia was down and vulnerable, leaving her at the mercy of the next attack Vickie was about to launch. Persia braced for impact then the most unexpected thing happened. Asia came seemingly out of nowhere, and socked Vickie in the mouth and knocked her to the ground.

  Vickie lay on the ground, clutching her bloodied lip, looking up at Asia in disbelief. “What the fuck, Asia? We’re supposed to be on the same side!”

  Asia moved to stand over Vickie and when she did the remaining girls moved with her like a shadow. “Yes, we were supposed to be, but that was poor judgment on my part. A snitch can never stand on the same side as me,” she spat. “Claire told me what you and your sister did to Sarah.”

  Vickie’s already pale face turned a sickly shade of green at hearing she was exposed. “Asia, I can explain.”

  Asia held her hand up for silence. “No explanation needed. You’re foul and deserve whatever you get. But, just because you and your sister are foul doesn’t mean that I am. I’ll gi
ve y’all a sixty-second head start before I let these bitches loose on you.” She motioned to the girls around her.

  “But, Asia—”

  “Sixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight,” Asia began counting.

  Embarrassed, and terrified of Asia’s wrath, Vickie helped her sister to her feet and they both took off down the block. Before they made it very far, Asia unleashed her mob and they proceeded to give Vickie and Jean the ass whipping that had been reserved for Persia.

  “I thought you were gonna give them a sixty-second head start,” Persia said.

  Asia shrugged her shoulders. “I lied, same as they did when they got me to organize this little lynch mob.”

  For a long while the two girls just stood there staring at each other in awkward silence. Asia seemed to be studying Persia, but her stone face betrayed none of what she was thinking. It was Persia who finally broke the silence.

  “So what now?” Persia asked, not sure if the battle would continue once Asia’s girls had finished with Vickie and Jean.

  “Nothing,” Asia said flatly. “The only reason I even involved myself in this foolishness is because Vickie made it seem like you were bullying her for no reason. It wasn’t until I spoke to Claire and she told me what they had done to your friend that I knew she was full of shit. I ain’t got no beef with you, Persia.” She extended her hand.

  Persia was suspicious at first, but so far Asia seemed genuine enough. Cautiously, Persia shook her hand.