You Don't Know..What you Don't Know

Chapter Twenty-Six: Spring- Freshmen Year

Randy went back to the Home for the weekend so we could meet up at the Elementary School on Saturday and Sunday.  We are never alone of course.  Everyone wants to spend time with him.  Even Chris tags along. He gives me the creeps. Chris is always wanting Randy's attention or approval.  He is definitely a boy who belongs in the Home.  He has this dangerous vibe I can not pinpoint and I don't like it.

Randy will always be the leader of the group. I could tell from day one, the boys are either afraid of him or worship him. There is this quality. It's very dominating and brokers no argument. My guess is this is why Chris wants to be him. Hell, I want to be him.

Sunday morning, the crew is hanging out on the playground. My heart is in my throat because it will be months before I see Randy again. Sure we will write but how long can it last. Torri's text came daily at first and tapered off to non-existence now. Randy's sister picks him up from the court on Sunday around 1. 

We walk a little a way from the group holding hands.  He puts me against the car and kisses me for a long moment.  "I will write as soon as I am back.  Tia, I love you. "  I still can't bring myself to tell him I love him. The fear from the day he left me hangs heavy on my heart. Trying desperately to get one more touch..one more kiss..I pour everything I am into the last kiss.  Our tongues are always in the perfect rhythm. The crew starts to hoot and holler. So Forgot they were there. Randy, it seems does not care if there is an audience or not.  He grabs me and kisses me hard again.  "You will always be mine." He is in the car when he waves goodbye.  I blow him a kiss.

Gary and Jake throw a basketball in my direction as I walk back to the court. They think I will be depressed a little by Randy's departure.  This is their way of cheering me up.  My depression when he first got locked up causes PTSD with my Boys. "Ok, my Princess, let's play horse because I will not out dribble you." Jake shouts.  Tim, Brandi and Jamie decide to sit at the picnic tables and heckle us.  Oh boy, Chris wants to play. 

"I got to ask.  What is this My Princess Shit." Chris takes an easy lay up shot.  I pull off my sweatshirt and stand in my Tank Top and Nike shorts.  Chris stops in his tracks and gapes at me.  He seems to recover quickly and passes me the ball.

"I'd rather not answer that." I mimic his shot. Chris' eyes follow me and it is kind of creeping me out.

"She is our Princess.  Randy started it a long time ago and it stuck.  We would do anything for her." Jake hits the layup off the back board.

"Tia is one of a kind.  She has received the official title twice from the school." Jake chimes in.  He makes the lay up. 

Looking heavenward I say exasperated, "Thanks Boys." Then I stare at Chris. "I hate that nickname."

"Funny, you are more like an Angel than a Princess. I peg you for innocence not deceit. Princesses know the art of manipulation. Don't see it in you." He grins. I never thought about it that way. I wonder if it's why Randy started calling me Princess because I am not what I seem? Next letter, I will get to the bottom of it. The game continues on and it is down to Chris and me. 

Tim, Brandi and Jamie move on to God knows where.  They got bored. We ignored them for the most part anyway.  Jamie tried to gain Chris' attention during the game but he is focused on beating me. She must be pissed off. Jake and Gary take their spots at the table.  They are rooting for me of course. Gary tried to distract Chris as he takes his shots.  The boy is focused.  I am wondering what he needs to prove. I swish a shot from outside the left three point line.  Chris rolls his eyes, "I make it I win.  What's the bet, Tia?"

"Bet?  I don't remember betting on this game.  I don't think you got what it takes.  You make whatever bet you want.  You are going to lose." I am on the other side of the court.  My Boys are shaking their heads. Don't pull the rattlesnakes tail, Tia. I can't help my mouth sometimes, Boys.