Three to Tango

01

Jazzy placed her forehead on her locker. Anything to cool down this raging headache she had. How could it be so early and she already needed to pop two Tylenol's just to get through the rest of the day? Probably because even after her shift at work she stayed up for hours trying to finish her homework. That was dumb.
This what I get for picking up an extra shift.
She had about a half an hour before the medicine kicked in. And to think after school she had to go to work again. This time she'll do her homework during her break and whenever it got slow.
And the school was just too damn loud! Everybody laughing and slamming their lockers. Why the hell were they so chipper this early in the goddamn morning? It felt like a worse hell than usual.
Taking a deep breath she pushed through the pain and switched out her books for her next class. Maybe she could get a little nap in English Lit. It was boring enough to put her to sleep.
What was she going to do? Rent was due soon and she had no idea how she was gonna make up the couple hundred she was missing. It was just not her week.
She turned around and bumped into what felt like a fucking brick wall. Damn if her brain wasn't rattling around in her skull. She lost a little bit of her balance but two hands caught her before she tumbled over.
"Damn, bitch. Watch where you goin'."
Ugh! She knew who that was. Cash Fletcher. Tall, light skin and tatted. Fine as all hell and the biggest idiot in the state, she was sure of that last part. Everybody knew Cash was deep in the streets with running drugs and stealing cars. Been in juvie a few times since he was twelve. The boy just didn't know how to act and had no sense of responsibility. And he had the audacity to call her a bitch? Yeah the fuck right.
"I don't know who the fuck you talkin' to like that, but it ain't me."
"Yeah? You a bold bitch ain't 'chu."
"Keep callin' me a bitch and watch how bold I get. Now get out my way."
She pushed him to the side and made her way to class. She was not up for his bullshit today. She could hear his homeboys laughing at him cause he let some girl talk to him like that. She didn't care. And she damn sure wasn't scared of him like the rest of these people.
He was all talk for real. He was really just a pretty boy trying to act like he was all big and bad. Just doing dumb shit for attention. That wasn't cute at all.
Within the first fifteen minutes of class she was knocked out. At least just enough to sleep, but she could still hear what was going on around her. It was her superpower. She could be sleep and very alert at the same time. So when her teacher tried to embarrass her by asking questions and she answered them correctly, he was the one looking stupid.
        "Hey! Jazzy."
        She lifted her head and glared at her best friend Noelle. She saw Jazzy was sleeping. She must wanna get slapped.
       "Girl what do you want?"
       "I heard you got into it with Cash earlier."
       "It still amazes me how fast shit gets around."
       "Anything about that boy 'gets around' fast."
       "It was just a little bump and he called me out my name. Thought he could bitch me. I think the think not."
       "He a whore, but he a fine whore."
       "Keep it in your pants, Noelle. You don't wanna catch nothin'."
       "I wanna catch some dick."
       "You gonna catch some hands fuckin' around with him. These girls think he walk on water."
        "They wanna get it crackin' we can. It gotta be good, though, if they ready go war for it. I just need to know...for scientific purposes." She laughed.
        "Oh, it's research, huh?"
        "Exactly."
        Jazzy just laughed and went back to her nap.
She was now on her way to work thankful that her headache had went away after her little nap. The rest of her school day flew by without another interruption. She was sure Cash would try to get her back for earlier, but he didn't. She was even able to lessen her workload for the day at lunch so she didn't take up too much of her break today.
The bell above the door rung as she entered the diner. She was a night waitress. It was the only place in town that offered a job with no prior experience needed. It was either this or stripping. She didn't have the confidence of a stripper so waitress it was. Hell, she got groped enough here as it is. And with the way things were going at home she might have to change professions anyway.
"You're like an hour early, Ms. Jazzy." Chris the owner/chef said.
"If I'm early I'm on time. If I'm on time I'm late. And if I'm late, don't even bother to show up. Ain't that right?"
"Right as rain, baby girl. But if you think I'm paying you for this extra hour, you outta your mind."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." She rolled her eyes. He was gonna pay her regardless.
        She got dressed in the ladies room and left her backpack with her regular clothes in the storage closest as usual. Immediately she picked up her notepad and got to work.
Everyone came here to eat after work and after school. She was lucky enough to serve them all during the dinner rush. Can you sense her sarcasm? At least the tips were pretty good then.
Men thought that just because her skirt didn't reach the top of her knees they had the right to see what's underneath. She kept her anger in most of the time, but usually those men went home with a wet lap or a loose jaw. She's been reprimanded of course, but Chris new her actions were perfectly valid. He treated all his workers like family and she was lucky enough to be one of those people.
        Eventually she was serving a couple of those assholes during her shift. It was a couple dudes from school that hung out with Cash. He, on the other hand, wasn't here. Thank god for small miracles.
        She couldn't remember there names off the top of her head. Anthony...? No Anton, De'Angelo, Santiago, and...Marcus. She was almost sure that was their names. They were just as obnoxious as their leader laughing and throwing balled up napkins at each other. Like children.
        Okay they weren't all that bad she just despised them by association. And also the crude remarks they make towards her.
        "How can I help you today?" She said in a sickly sweet voice.
        "Shiiiitt, you can help me take out the trash with that dump truck you got back there." She thinks this was Marcus but she wasn't certain.
His friends chuckled around him and she rolled her eyes. "Don't come at me with no weak shit like that. Now what do you want to order?" His friends laughed even harder.
"Damn, iight. Let me get a double deluxe burger with a side of onion rings and a sprite. And please don't spit in my shit." He didn't seem to take her rejection too bad so she would think about not spitting in his food.
"I'll think about it."
She got the orders from the rest of the table and sent it to the back. The rest of her shift went smoothly. Even when Marcus tried another pick up line that didn't work. He was fucking with her and she gave right back. It was fun. The other boys...not so much. Santiago - or "Gato" - kept giving her dirty looks. He definitely didn't like her, good thing she didn't care.
        When her shift was over she was kinda sad that Noelle didn't burst in singing like she normally did, but her mother had her on strict punishment after coming home high as all hell one day. Jazzy was just as high, but her parents weren't as strict. Or as involved.
        Speaking of her parental figures she could hear them arguing before she even walked through the door. She sighed and got ready to be their referee again.
        "Don't touch shit you didn't pay for Aaron!" Her mother yelled.
        "Everything in this bitch I paid for. Including you."
        She attacked him with a swiftness they hadn't seen from her in a long time. Jazzy pulled her feral mother off him as best as she could but that only caused the woman to attack her too.
        "Mom, you better watch them hands."
        She stopped fighting and continued glaring at her husband. It wouldn't be the first time the women came to blows. It also wouldn't be the last.
Jazzy didn't even need to ask why they were fighting. She already knew. Her dad finally threw away the alcohol her mother had been hiding.
        Not even bothering to respond or apologize she went up stairs and the two of them sighed when they heard the door shut.
        "I'm so sorry, Jazzy." He said solemnly.
        "Yeah." She didn't really care anymore. This was nothing new and even though he apologized again and again nothing changed. Her mother was an addict and nothing they did helped.
        "How was work and school?" He asked.
Changing the subject? Fine by me. "It was same as every day. Although I almost knocked this lil' boy right in his jaw for calling me a bitch after bumping into me."
        "That's my right hook." He chuckled.
        She had always been ready to throw hands aver since she was a kid. Everybody always wanted to pick on her because of something or other. They thought she was weak. She proved them all the way wrong. Now though they just acted like she wasn't even there. She liked it just like that.
        "Do I need to pull up on this nigga?"
        "No dad. I can handle him."
As small as her father had gotten over the years he was just as hotheaded as her. One of many similarities between the two other than taking care of her unstable mother.
"What happened this time?"
"She think she slick but she not. I smelled it on her. I try so hard not to smack some sense into that woman." He said that last part to himself. "I found her stash under one the steps. I was wondering why the damn thing kept creaking lately."
"Why is she even still here?"
"Because regardless for her problems she is still my wife and your mother. She needs help and..." he trailed off.
"And you're afraid of what's gonna happen to her when you're not watching her."
"I don't know what I would do if I lost her."
She didn't have the heart to tell him that to her, it didn't matter. She never had a real mother. She's been this way since Jazzy was a toddler and it's never gotten better, only worse. The worse part? Her mother had no real reason or excuse. She didn't lose anyone close to her - both sets of Jazzy's grandparents were alive and kicking. She didn't go through some traumatic experience as a kid, wasn't abused or molested, or had neglecting parents. When she was deep in a drunken state she would talk about how great her childhood was. She chose this. She chose to harm herself and her family. So why should Jazzy feel sorry for someone who couldn't care less about herself? Answer is she doesn't. She only felt sorry that her father had to bare most of the responsibility.
He worked so hard everyday to provide for the three of them barely making by. Especially with the money her mother spent on drugs and alcohol. Jazzy did the best she could working the closing shift at the diner Thursday-Saturday. She tried to help cover some of the bills and have some for herself. Never worked out because her mother would steal whatever loose money she had. She didn't tell her father either. He didn't need the added stress.
She looked at him now. He looked tired and empty. She couldn't remember the last time she saw the light that used to be in his eyes when he looked at her. Now it was just a sad imitation of what used to be.
Truthfully, she hated her mother. She didn't want her around anymore. If she weren't here life would be so much easier and her dad could find someone better. Actually be happy. It's sad but Jazzy's happiest moments were when her mother went missing for days on end.
She knew how fucked up that sounded, but it was the sad truth.
The two of them ate their dinner while watching Paid in Full. It was her top ten movie and it was because of him.
When it was over she kissed him goodnight and went to get ready for bed. She scrubbed off the days grime as hard had she could. She felt extra dirty today for some reason.
After getting dressed she slipped into her fresh sheets and drifted off into a blissful sleep.