The way we were

Chapter 4.

As the final bell rang, I grabbed my books and rushed out the door, forgetting that I was supposed to meet Beth right after school. I rushed down the parking lot, struggling not to stop everytime I saw a finger point or heard a whisper.

"that's Damian's ex" I heard one voice

"her mother just died" chided another

"shame" another tongue clicked.

I just continued to shuffle forward, willing myself not to scream at them, telling them to mind there own business. But even I knew, if I made a scene it would only make things worse. And I would rather be looked upon with sympathy for my mother's death than my sudden psychotic condition.

I finally reached my car, that was sitting abandoned in an empty parking lot. I fumbled through my bag looking for my keys, when Beth bounded up to my car.

"hey" she said breathlessly, her black curls wind blown and flying out in every direction.

I looked at her wondering what she was doing at my car then slapped my forehead. Shit, I had forgotten.

"hey Beth" I muttered sheepishly

"I can't make it today" she said looking down at her polished blue nails.

"oh" although I was relieved I tried to look disappointed "what's going on?"

"oh you know, Im meeting up with someone." she said nonchalantly.

"okay" I decided not to push her for more information "thanks for telling me!"

She smiled helplessly and nodded. I watched as she spun on her heel and walked away from my car, her curls still fluttering in the harsh wind. I turned around and faced my car. Then my phone rang. I picked it up hastily and glanced at the caller ID. It was an unknown number, but I answered it at my own curiosity.

"hello?" I said into the receiver.

"amelia" a husky voice responded.

I sighed into the phone letting it balance on my shoulder. "what Rodney"

"did you get my message?"

"yes" my tone was clipped.

"you'll be there?"

"yes Rodney" I said with exaggerated attitude.

"okay" his voice seemed to calm at my answer. "I'll see you then" the line clicked shut. I threw my phone into my bag and hopped into the car. Tonight was going to be a long night.

I remember the night Rodney left. There were tears and shattered glass; easily confused, I found out later, with cocaine.

My mother begged him not to leave, telling him that he could still change. But I guess stepping up and being a man wasn't in his playing cards.

I watched as his glazed over eyes ran over me and my mother. Like he was trying to decide what life he wanted to live. His fists tightening and loosening with the silent moments passed him by.

"Rodney" my mother wept walking toward him.

But I stepped in front of her "no mama, if he wants to go let him" I practically spat. Having lost my father at the age of 7, I looked up to Rodney. And that night, at the age of 15, it seemed like it was happening all over again.

My mother clutched her chest, as if her heart was going to fall out. I held her steady with one hand, her grief was beginning to make her topple.

"Ai dios mios" my mother cried in her native tongue.