A Mile In My Shoes

SEVENTEEN

Capri 

The day has finally come for me to go back home and I still haven't told Dellen. I've stressed the entire morning, conjuring up excuses to skip the dinner but I have a feeling if I skip another weekend of not visiting home, Martin will come to the school and find me. And the last thing I need is my rapist, pedophile father causing a scene in front of everyone on campus. Brandyn sent me a distasteful text reminding me to be there at six sharp-not a minute early or late.

The hate that runs deep in my veins for him scares me sometimes. I catch myself wanting to hurt him. I blame my mother for ruining our family, but in the end Martin and Brandyn have a mind of their own and they choose to treat me like shit.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring down into the front yard of the frat house. Everyone was moving about, preparing for another exciting weekend while I prepared for the unexpected in a few hours. To ease my mind, I opened Dellen's laptop since he had mine and logged into my emails. With all the disastrous events that have happened to me, I haven't checked to see if the HBA sent me anything. Professor Winston hasn't reached out to me either after presenting my latest designs to her. It was a stretch doing so in Dellen's body, but it was either that or letting Dellen completely fuck up a potentially amazing check.

The door opened and Shooter, the guy with the hood-covered face invited himself into the room. For as long as I've been in the house, I still have yet to see his face. No matter the time of day or what he's doing, his dark green hoodie is on. Although I don't know what he looks like behind the material, his voice is soothing and nice to hear. I stared at him silently, waiting for a reason as to why he was here, but nothing ever came. Awkwardness filled the space between us and I couldn't take it. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, you can help me. Capri, right?" He queried, using his index finger to point at me.

"Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about?"

"You are one of the smartest, if not the smartest girl on campus Capri. We can save a lot of time if you cut the act shawty." Baffled by his straightforward approach, I was at a loss for words. Not that it mattered because he had more to say. "I'm not like these other dumb niggas around here. You can't fool me. I peeped the difference."

"How?"

"First of all, Dellen don't say shit like "excuse me" or "I beg your pardon". The dude ain't ever had manners since I've known him. Not only that, you ain't know shit about shit on the field. You shower with Dove shea butter body wash and a hair net. If that ain't obvious, I feel for the other motherfuckers who ain't seen it yet."

It still didn't explain how he knew who she was or what her personal preference was. "But that doesn't mean anything. I could've been having a bad day on the field or I could've been anyone for the matter. How'd you know it was me? What gave it away?"

"I didn't know. You just confirmed my suspicions." He chuckled lowly. Capri couldn't believe she fell for that. "In all seriousness, it was just a gut feeling a nigga had. I've been closely watching you lately and you have some feminine qualities about yourself. The only person Dellen butt heads with are you and Emory and if that bitch woke up in a nigga body, the entire state of Louisiana would've known by now. That leaves you."

"So that means you believe in witchcraft, voodoo, all that magical stuff."

He nodded. "Doesn't everyone. Look at where we are. I'm from New Orleans, the home of witchcraft, supposedly from outsiders."

"Well, you know the truth now. Is that all you wanted?" I wasn't intentionally being rude but I had more important things to not look forward to and stress over.