Page 30 of Savage Poet

The only venerable part of my heart was pierced at Zio asleep in front of the TV again. I couldn’t do this to him; force him to run again. Not after he saved my ass so many times before. I needed to fix this shit with Roque tonight. I needed to convince him our ten minutes in the closet was just a fluke… that there was nothing special about me—the soon to be blue haired girl just winging it through high school. Now, how to play it? Clingy? Boring? A drunk druggie?

Lost in my thoughts, I tucked the old blanket around Zio.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, gently kissing his cheek as I turned and walked quietly back upstairs then jumped back into the shower to rinse my hair.

But the blue just wasn’t enough. Hiding my eyes was my greatest armor. I texted Tati back asking her to bring whatever goodies she can pack quickly. Her mom does more than just regular haircuts and highlights. On the weekends, she often makes extra money working at an underground drag bar. The shit in her arsenal could make any washed-up girl look like a million bucks.

But I didn’t want to look like a million tonight. I wanted to look fierce in an almost scary sci-fi kind of way. Roque is old world. He might be young but old school values were ingrained on him. He’d never go for a girl so punk and edgy. I was a surprise who looked hot that night. Tonight, I wouldn’t resemble that girl one bit.

I put on a pair of skinny jeans and high-top chucks pairing it with a blue hoodie, soft and faded to the point tiny holes showed through the sleeves.

I snuck back into the kitchen and poured some convection sugar into a sandwich bag with a few aspirin to make it look like crushed up pills. I almost giggled as I pictured the look on his face if I snorted it in front of him. He was going to lose his mind—and not in a good way. His high-school sweetheart is going to be a badass rebel from hell.

I didn’t even need to sneak out via the roof. But I did triple check the alarm and all the deadbolts as I scurried down the block to Tati waiting in her grandfather’s old Toyota.

“How did you snake that again?”

“The same way you did the Explorer. Mom’s out making money at drag night and grandpa fell asleep at six.”

I shook my head. “I so never want to grow old.”

“You look like…?”

“I know. I want it to be this way.”

She paused taking me in. “Why? Are you scared he’ll find out you’re a virgin?”

I swallowed hard. “No. Because I’d never give that to him. I... I need him to just go away for Zio’s sake. Zio… he dumped Johnny Lamatti’s aunt hard. Back in New York, Zio dated her and then dumped her when she wanted more—she went crazy and stalked him. When I was only ten, she tried to have me kidnapped by the Lamatti outfit as payback for her broken ass heart. If Ralph and Johnny find me… they’ll find him.

“What? That’s crazy? That was years, ago right? Surely Johnny won’t give two fucks?”

“Who knows? His aunt’s on her third husband.”

“What happened to the first two?”

“They disappeared. Please Tati, I can’t do this to Zio. He likes it here. I don’t want to move anymore.”

“He’d make you move?”

“He’s already nervous about the Lamatti presence in Princeton over the past week. He barely leaves the house. Maybe he’s just a crazy, old man. But Tati, he’s my old man. You get me? He’s all I got.”

“Yeah, I get that. Okay, here.” She handed me a make-up case, “use the blue lipstick and go heavy on the black eyeliner. He hates street or steampunk.”

“I know.”

“You did your research.”

“You have no idea,” I murmured as I flipped the visor down and got to work. Tati started the engine and pulled out. We arrived at the party in less than fifteen. I had more boring brown lenses in. The twinge of guilt I felt for even faking out my only friend passed, as I asked her to wait for a minute so I could fix my contacts. She didn’t see me take the brown ones out then pop the blue ones in.

I looked electric. I was the blue in flame. I wanted to look ugly but somehow all I did was be pure fire.

“Fuck, D. Your plan might backfire.”

“It could. But it won’t.” I pulled out my baggie.

“D? What the fuck? No. Hell, no.”

“Don’t worry, Tati. Here,” I opened the bag and dipped a finger in the sugar. “It’s baking sugar.”

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