Chapter One
The first time I ever laid eyes on Jason, I thought he was ajunior-mack-daddy-wannabe that probably sat around on a Commodore 64 computerdrinking grape Kool-Aid out of a peanut butter jar while watching GoodTimes. I couldn't stand his ass.
The feeling was mutual, though, because our first physical interaction was whenhe gave me the finger and then spit on my saddle shoes. We were in the fifthgrade, and from the day my parents and I drove up in our Ford station wagon, Iknew he was trouble.
The movers got there about an hour after we did. I was sitting on the curbplaying jacks when the big truck came flying around the corner, practicallytilted on one side. I figured the driver was going to lose control of the truckfor sure, and every valuable possession we owned would end up strewn all overthe street.
Being the wonderful and unselfish little girl I was, my main concern was that myblack Barbie didn't lose a limb or anything in the process. Table lamps, myfather's eight-track tape player, and my mother's dishes were all replaceable,but the hell if I was going to be able to replace my Barbie. She was my prideand joy. I had even painted her fingernails with glittered polish and made her asexy dress out of the red bandannas my mother made me wear to bed so my pressedhair wouldn't frizz up. Other than that, I was worried about my Snoopy Snow ConeMachine, and that was about it.
Jason and his parents lived directly across the street. He was outside that daytrying to get some mail-order rocket to soar into the heavens. What a rip-off!The whole time I was watching him, the stupid thing never made it a yard off theground. It was after about the hundredth try, when the movers had half the truckunloaded, that I noticed his ass rolling his beady eyes at me. I was using apiece of pink chalk to draw a makeshift hopscotch diagram on the street in frontof my house when he approached me. His Kangol hat and leather bomber jacket madehim look like a pint-size pimp. All he needed was a couple of gold teeth.
"Girl, you better quit! I'm gonna tell my momma on you!" I glared at him,smacking on a wad of Bubblicious like a cow.
"Little man, you better go play with your cheap broken rocket and leave me theheck alone!"
He got all the way up in my face then. "Girl, don't you be ordering me around!I'll stomp your skinny behind into the concrete!"
"Oooooooh, I am sooooooo scared!" I rolled my eyes, chastising him.
Then, the miniature version of Shaft flipped me the finger, made a disgustingnoise while he gathered saliva in his mouth, and then spit on my brand-newblack-and-white saddle shoes. I beat his little ass too. We were the same age,but I had him by a good three inches in height. Milk wasn't due to start doinghis body good for a couple more years.
Two of the moving men broke the fight up. I accidentally scratched one of themen on the nose because I was not about to stop fighting until the fat ladysang. That's when both our mothers came dashing out of our respective housesyelling, "Oh, my poor baby!" and things like that. It was mad funny. They tookover, throwing our heads into their heavy breasts and feeling all over us tomake sure there was no permanent damage. Jason and I just glared at each otherlike two sumo wrestlers ready for round two.
My mother helped me inside like I was handicapped. In actuality, I had neverfelt better in my life. I was the victorious one. Jason retreated to his houseas well, and that was the end of it. My parents and I did just enough unpackingthat night to get by, threw some sleeping bags on the living room floor, andmunched down on some KFC. My Dad hooked up his eight-track, and I fell asleeplistening to the harmonized singing of Earth, Wind and Fire. It was a Saturday.
I started school the following Monday and was anxious to get there to meet allthe new kids. I rushed through a bowl of corn flakes and caught about tenminutes of The Flintstones before grabbing my tin lunch pail and runningout the door to get to the bus stop on time.
The bus was about to pull off, and I was panting by the time I caught up to itin time to bang on the door, signaling the driver to stop. After I got on thebus, he asked me who I was. I explained I was a new student who had just moved.He snarled at me, his au naturel breath almost knocking me backward down thesteps and back off the bus, "Well, you make sure your teacher gets your name puton my roster A-S-A-P 'cause I'm not supposed to be picking up no knuckleheads Idon't know! Now, find a seat, sit down, and shaddup!"
I searched for an empty seat and couldn't find one in the front of the bus, so Istarted walking toward the back. All of the kids were checking me out, and somewere even snickering. I noticed most of the seats were occupied, either by twogirls or two boys, with the exception of the one in the far rear. A boy and agirl, obviously suffering from a severe case of puppy love, were seated there.He had his arm around her shoulder, and she was blushing from ear to ear.
I was ready to ask the driver if I could sit on the steps when I realized theonly available seat was next to the horror film creature himself, Jason. Hestopped playing with his GI Joe with the kung fu grip just long enough to smirkat me. I turned around and headed toward the front to beg the driver to asksomeone to trade places with me, but he yelled at me again. "You taking toolong! School starts in fifteen minutes! Now, sit your be-hind in a seatand shaddup!"
I scurried my ass back to the seat and noticed Jason had placed his knapsack onthe vinyl seat beside him. "Could you move that, please?"
He didn't respond, nor did he look at me, so I took the bag, threw it on hislap, and sat down. He was about to be a smart aleck, but I stopped him dead inhis tracks. I rolled my eyes and gave him ahead-from-side-to-side-with-a-finger-snap combination. "Don't say nothing to me,or I'll give you an even bigger beatdown than I did Saturday."
A couple of the kids heard me and started giggling and taunting him. He justgrabbed his knapsack, held it tight, and didn't look at me the rest of the wayto school.
As if things weren't going bad enough, I get my class assignment from theprincipal's office, go to my homeroom, and his trick ass is the first face Isee. Our homeroom teacher was Mrs. Williams, and she was displeased tohave a student transfer into her class in the middle of the fall term. Shesnarled at me too. Maybe it was my cherry-flavored lip gloss that was makingeveryone demonic toward me. "Little Miss Zoe," she started in on me as shelooked over my school records, "have a seat over there by the window and payattention. You have a lot of making up to do in order to catch up to the rest ofthe class."
There was one glimmer of sunshine in my day. I didn't have to sit near Jason inhomeroom. He was clear across the class, and that suited me just fine. He musthave been a smart-ass with everybody because Mrs. Williams had his desk pushedright up against hers, several feet away from the rest of the class. Teachersalways make the troublemakers sit up in their faces, and I remember thinking tomyself, "Goodie!"
My first day at Benjamin Franklin Elementary was pretty uneventful. I made acouple of new friends, got to jump rope at recess, made a deformed clay vase inart class, and learned how to count to ten in Spanish. At lunch, I sat with thislittle girl named Brina that thought she was the next Diana Ross. I started toschool her ass and tell her she couldn't be the next Diana Ross because I was.She would fling her hair back after every bite of her Twinkie and took specialcare making sure she didn't end up with a milk mustache when she rinsed it down.She spent the entire lunch period bragging about everything from her collectionof ribbons for her hair to the straight A's she made on her last report card.
Jason did decide to get bold for a minute and started spitting half-frozen peasacross the room at the back of my neck through a straw. He made the mistake ofhitting the PE teacher, Mr. Lewis, in the cheek with one and was immediatelydragged by the ear to the office.
When I got on the bus that afternoon, I was lucky enough to find a seat upfront. I made sure I was one of the first ones on the bus, pushing a couple ofwimpy boys out my way so I wouldn't have to sit next to Cousin It. Jason got onthe bus about ten kids after I did. I stuck my tongue out at him and flipped himthe bird. He tried to tell the bus driver on me, but all he got was an attitude."Sit your be-hind down, little man, and shaddup!"
I was playing hopscotch about an hour later when he came out of his house, stoodon the curb on his side of the street, and started talking trash. "You knowwhat? I hate you and I hope all your hair falls out and you get red pimples allover your face!"
I stopped hopping on number six with my right foot up in the air, gave him anicy cold look, and decided to pay his ass back for the comment. "Oh, yeah? Well,I hate you too, and I hope the next time you shoot that cheap rocket of yours,it gets stuck up your behind!" As an afterthought, I added, "And I hope youritsy bitsy dang-a-lang falls off too!"
I held up my pinkie finger to emphasize the point, and he left the curb, on hisway over to my side of the street to finish off the fistfight we started theSaturday before. I was about to meet him in the middle when my mother opened upthe front door. "Zoe, get in here and get washed up for dinner! Now!"
Walking away, I placed my hands on my hips and strutted like Greta Garbo. Iturned around and addressed him with my best voice imitation. "Next time, BigBoy!"
I left his cross between Chewbacca from Star Wars and Scooby Doo ass standingright there in the street with his hands balled into fists and a look of hatredon his pathetic face.
I tried to keep my distance from Jason, other than in school, but my daddywasn't making it easy for me. For some odd reason, the two of them bonded. Maybeit was because Jason's daddy was always working, or maybe it was because mydaddy was good with his hands and Jason admired the way he fixed things aroundthe house and made furniture out of wood as a hobby. Whatever it was, I didn'tlike or appreciate them being buddy-buddy at all.
I was up in my bedroom one Saturday morning, sorting out my record collectionand singing my ass off, when my mother yelled for me to come down. I had justtaken "The Best of My Love" by the Emotions off the turntable. I was about topull my shades down and throw on "Flashlight" by Parliament Funkadelic and dancearound my room, making circles on the walls and ceiling with the Maglite mydaddy gave me when my mother interrupted my flow.
"Zoe, can you come down here for a second?" Her voice carried well up thestairwell, and I knew she deliberately waited for a break in the music to callfor me. It was a regular routine.
"Okay, Momma. I'll be right down." I muttered under my breath while I gatheredthe dirty clothes out of my wicker hamper and tossed them in a laundry basket.It was laundry day, and I hadn't done a thing, so I lugged my clothes downstairswith me in order to save myself a return trip.
As soon as I turned the corner into the kitchen, my eyes lit up as I spotted theice-cold pitcher of freshly squeezed lemonade and the cookie sheet of chocolatechip cookies with Hershey's Kisses hidden inside cooling on the stove.
"Momma, you made my favorite cookies!" I let the laundry basket drop on thefloor and gave my mother a huge, elephantine hug. "You're the most spantacular,bomb-diggity, coolest mother in the whole wide world."
She let out a slight giggle and then gently pushed my hands away. "Zoe, quitbefore you make me spill the lemonade."
"Sorry, Momma." I licked my lips, dreaming about how delectable the cookies weregoing to taste hitting my throat, and decided to earn some brownie points so Icould sneak a couple before dinner was ready. I retrieved my laundry basket andheaded toward the basement steps. "I'm going to go ahead and put my clothes on,and then maybe I can help you with the other cleaning like vacuuming orpolishing the furniture."
My mother walked over to me, wiping her hand on the bib of her apron, and placedher right palm over my forehead, checking for a fever. "Is this my child?" sheasked sarcastically.
I grimaced. "Yeah, Momma. I'm just trying to do my share around here."
She gleamed at me. "Good, do me a favor before you go downstairs." She took twoglasses out of the cabinet and poured some lemonade in them. Then she put fourcookies on a saucer and placed everything on a wooden tray. "Take this lemonadeand cookies out to the garage for your daddy and Jason."
"Jason? What the hell, I mean heck, is he doing over here?" I felt a suddentension in the back of my neck, hotter under the collar than the pot of whitepotatoes my mother had simmering on the stove for dinner. "Why does he have tocome over here all the time?"
"First of all, Miss Thing," my mother scolded me, "Jason isn't over here allthe time. Your daddy's helping him build a go-cart."
"A go-cart?" That did it! "I asked Daddy to help me build a tree house likefifty million times, and he hasn't done it yet."
"You asked your daddy once, and he fully intends to do it, but the oakin the backyard needs some branches trimmed off it first before he can. The menare coming next weekend to cut them down, and then — " My mother glared at me,probably wondering why she was even bothering to try to explain. "Never mind allthat. Just take this tray out there and then come in so you can do your laundryand vacuum."
"What about some lemonade and cookies for me?" My bottom lip was poked out morethan a set of 44DDD breasts.
"After you finish your chores, you can have some."
I smacked my lips, reluctantly took the tray, and headed toward the small alcoveoff the kitchen leading to the garage. Why did I have to do chores while Jasongot the special treatment like he was Shaka Zulu or some damn body?
As soon as I entered the garage, I was immediately jealous. There was my daddy,shooting the breeze with Jason and going over the diagrams for building thego-cart they had halfway put together on the workbench attached to the backwall. They were so busy bonding, they didn't even notice me come in at first.
"Mr. Wallace, I really appreciate you helping me out like this. My daddy'salways working, and I never thought I'd have it done in time for the Cub ScoutDerby next week." What an ass kisser!
My daddy patted Jason on the head like he was a Doberman pinscher, which he kindof resembled, I might add. "Not a problem, Jason. I love working with my hands.In fact, within the next couple of weeks I'm going to start on Zoe's tree house.Maybe you could help me out and when it's done, you can hang out in there withZoe sometimes."
"That sounds great!" I could see Jason's profile, and from the side he lookedcompletely toothless, since he had four teeth coming in at the same time.
"Not hardly," I interjected, letting my presence be known. "Once my tree houseis done, it's for me and my friends. You're not even my friend."
"Zoe, what you got there?" My daddy attempted to change the subject before I hadto beat Jason's little ass again.
"Some lemonade and cookies, Daddy." I walked over and sat the tray on the hoodof my daddy's silver Buick Century. "Momma told me to bring them out for you andAlf."
"Alf? I got your Alf, girl!"
Jason really wanted me to open another can of whup-ass. "Yes, Alf as in orangealien." I looked him right in his beady eyes. "Dang, boy, you look messed upwith all those missing teeth." He smirked at me and rolled his eyes, so I added,"What's that on your face? A pimple or a golf ball?"
Before Jason could make a comeback effort, my daddy jumped all up in the mix,trying to protect the mongoose. "That's enough, Zoe. Don't be disrespectful tocompany!"
"Company? Daddy, that nucca's always over here. Why do you have to take his sideevery time?"
My daddy laughed. I failed to see anything humorous. "You know, the way you twogo at it reminds me of your mother and I when we were younger."
I analyzed the statement, recalling the stories of how my parents met when theywere children, grew up together, and eventually married. "Ewwwww, that'ssick, Daddy! Jason and I are nothing like you and Momma. I can't stand hisass, I mean behind."
My daddy curled his mouth up at my slip of the tongue. "Yeah, I know you meantbehind." Jason grinned at me, glad to see me being chastised.
"What you looking at, fool?"
He glanced from my head to my feet and back up. "Nothing much. That's for sure."
My daddy laughed all over again. "Uh-huh, I can see it now. The two of you willprobably end up married, just like your momma and I, with two or three kids anda house similar to this one."
"Daddy, I don't mean you no harm." I just had to correct him, because he wasobviously hallucinating. "But before I marry that cross between a gorilla and askunk, I will run away and become a nun."
"Hahahahahahaha." Jason chuckled like I had just said something hilarious, but Iwas dead serious. "Girl, you know you ain't going to join no convention!"
"Convention?" I pointed my finger at him. "You're so stupid. It'sconvent, dummy!" With that, I turned around and ran into the house toinform my mother about Jason's stupidity quotient. "Momma, guess what the stupidnucca just said!" That's how I first met Jason Reynard! That's how I first metmy husband!
Excerpted from Addicted by Zane. Copyright © 1998 by Kristina L. Roberts. Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Copyright © 1998 by Kristina L. Roberts. All rights reserved.
