Courtney's Secrets (The Clandestine Series)

Admit Three

The morning traffic was bumper to bumper on our way to the barber shop on Colfax Avenue—a street well-known to everyone at school, and in the community for having head shops, drug dealers, crime, and it was rumored to be crawling with hookers. The street was the butt of jokes, usually when someone said, "Hey, I saw your mom on Colfax last night". A classmate of ours did a speech on the history of Colfax and presented a slideshow our junior year. Our English teacher, Mr. Benson, squirmed in his seat when the student gave a quote by Playboy Magazine. They called it, "the longest, wickedest street in America". His report was backed up by a long bibliography so Mr. Benson allowed the minor inappropriateness. If you drove far enough west, it went by the capitol building and through downtown Denver, but on the east side, close to our neighborhood, it was a slum.

This was the first time I had gone anywhere in a car driven by a classmate, which sent thrills gyrating through me. My mood bumped up a notch and we nodded to the beat of the sub woofers. It wasn't a typical grocery run with Courtney. Freedom invigorated me. This must be what adulting was like.

We pulled into a spot with metered street parking, and Davianté dropped change into it. On the corner, a man in a wheelchair held a cardboard sign that said, "anything helps". Davianté slipped some change into his tin can, and we continued into Pops' Barbershop. The door jingled upon our entry, and the pleasant aroma of musky aftershave wafted over me.

Pops was a jolly older man who greeted us with a smile but quickly asked why we weren't in school. Davianté explained I needed a trim, and I was thankful Pops didn't ask more questions. I decided I wanted to try a shaved-side haircut. Why not? Courtney told me how she hated that look. It only took twenty minutes, and when he was done he handed me a mirror. My short 'do wasn't that bad. It felt weird when I touched the bristly side, and the rest of my hair fell in line with my jaw. It actually suited me.

Afterward, Davianté took me across the street to get donuts and coffee at one of the best bakeries on east Colfax—Black Magic Donuts. I had never been there, but kids at school talked about it like it was the Disneyland of pastry shops. A line of customers behind rope barriers snaked around to the counter where donuts revolved on pedestals behind glass. Some of their creations were truly brilliant. The one that first caught my eye was the bacon maple bar—a long john with bacon on top, and then the Marshal Mathers—a cake donut with vanilla frosting topped with M&M's, but the one I settled on was the voodoo doll—a raised donut in the shape of a person with chocolate frosting, filled with raspberry filling, and a pretzel stick to prod the 'doll' with.

"Which one do you want?" Davianté asked from behind me.

I pointed to it, then put my palms together in front of my lips, and bounced on the balls of my feet.

"Trying to inflict pain on anyone I know?" he teased.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I smirked.

Davianté paid for a donut and coffee for each of us, and we sat in a corner booth. This is what it will be like after I graduate high school. I can do what I want, with who I want, when I want. I poked the belly of my voodoo doll and raspberry filling oozed out. I sucked it off the pretzel stick, and the jelly tasted amazingly sweet.

"So," Davianté warmed his hands around the paper mug. "Who are you prodding with that pretzel stick?"

I laughed. "No one."

"I don't believe you. You're mad at someone." He lifted his coffee to his lips.

It pissed me off how he was so sure of what I was thinking, like he could read my mind. I had been thinking of Courtney, but he didn't know that. "Taking my aggression out on this donut is harmless." I changed the subject. "Actually, I'm considering ways to move out as quickly and efficiently as possible. I need a job." I regretted saying it immediately, knowing this would bring up questions I didn't want to answer.