A Woman Gone Mad Read online

  As I sit there eating my supper, watching Allen in my left peripheral, it dawns on me. My kid brother wasn’t crazy when he was laughing after his bike wreck. He was giddy because he’d found the reason we needed to be late, and he was laughing at himself for getting so mad and worked up over something so stupid and unimportant.

  When dinner is done and I finish the dishes, I walk into the living room, where everyone is watching TGIF. Mom and Dad are cuddled up on the couch, and Allen is in front of the TV, lying on his stomach with his chin held up by his hands. I go to lie down beside him, taking my foot, kicking his closest to mine, and circling in the air behind us. He glances over at me and we share a sneaky smile.

  Later that night, following our bedtime routine, Dad and Allen come into my room. Daddy reads us some story from the kids’ Bible storybook and then we all say the Lord’s Prayer, each adding our own special daily thanks. After hugs and goodnights have been said, Dad goes off to bed, leaving Allen me alone. I finally get to ask, “Where… What? How did you? Dang it, story! We always practice the story first! That’s the rule, dude!”

  Allen stands up and, on his way out, says, “Sis, what you think you have in years for experience, I more than make up for in my utter genius. And it’d be a good idea to always remember that one, kid. Night.”

  That night, for the first time, I tack on an extra special daily thanks to the Lord’s Prayer. Well after the whole house has fallen asleep, I whisper, “Lord, I thank you all the time for Momma and Daddy, but tonight, I want to thank you for giving me my little brother. Yes, I know he is irritating and he is always finding my diary and reading it to his friends, but he is also the best brother a sister could want in the whole wide world. Thank you for giving me my brother. He’ll always be my best friend. I promise, Jesus. In Jesus’ name I pray, Amen.”

  It’s ironic how things seem so important when you’re a kid. Life or death is measured by the mean things your friends say or when you think that your life is ruined because your report card got you grounded for the weekend. In reality, though, it’s all small stuff. We just don’t realize yet that we haven’t even had a taste of life or death or actually felt the disappointment of a ruined life.

  For as long as I can remember, I have been searching for my soul mate. And when I say for as long as I can remember, I mean kindergarten. I just knew Christopher, with the pale blond hair and dark brown eyes, was the one. He, on the other hand, thought all girls had cooties and didn’t see things the way I did.

  It left me utterly devastated. Yes, at five years old, I felt the first bite of a broken heart. As my elementary school years passed, I found my one true loves again and again, each leaving me with their own tiny marks across my own tiny heart.

  God, I wish I knew then what I know now. I don’t know why I believed that once I found my soul mate everything else in life would work itself out. Well, I have my suspicions. Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty—thanks, you stupid nitwits.

  I can tell you that, as I grew from a child to a teenager and then to a young adult, this need became more than a search—it became an obsession.

  I did have my standards. Don’t get me wrong, I never went trolling for trolls. My parents, however, would disagree with that statement. They would disagree with it mainly because along with the nineties came the Kurt Cobain wannabes. We all went there. Don’t worry.

  However, in the early nineties, I was still in plaid school uniform skirts that kept me in my eighth grade principal’s office more than in class. What can I say? I always loved to push the boundaries. I liked my skirts short and my shirts tight. I loved my knee-high tights and my black Mary Janes. And the choker necklace, of course. Don’t act like you didn’t wear the choker necklace.

  So on the first day of her eighth grade year, where is Lillian Shaw before the first bell even rang? Yep. Standing in front of Mr. Anderson’s desk, trying to covertly get her skirt shimmied down to five inches above the knee and failing miserably.

  “Ms. Shaw, isn’t it a bit early in the year to be in my office?” he asks without even looking up from the piles and stacks of files, folders, and God knows what else on his desk.

  I’m looking at his red face and trying to figure out if his fat ass got some sun late in the summer or if he is about to stroke out from high blood pressure. Shit I hope it’s just a sunburn.

  “Ms. Shaw? Are you just going to stand there or would you like to respond to my question?”

  I shrug. “I…ummm, what? Mr. Anderson, I’d just like to get to class. And yeah, it is too early in the morning. I haven’t even found my locker yet. Can I just go, please?”

  Damn. Now I’ll be stuck in a seat in the front or in the one next to the smelly kid no one else wanted to sit by. Way to freaking go, Lil.

  “Ms. Shaw, are you even listening to me? Your entire answer, if you could call that an answer, proves that you aren’t.”

  Mr. Anderson stands up, wipes the sweat off his brow, and then looks me up and down like I’m an insect or some kind of damn foreign being. All the while, I am cussing him out in my head, beginning to hope it isn’t just a sunburn.

  “Ms. Shaw, tell me the reason your uniform doesn’t meet the dress code is because your parents didn’t get a chance to go school clothes shopping for this school year so we can both go about our day.”

  “Ahh, yeah, sure. That’s why. Won’t happen again. Promise, Mr. A!” I say over my shoulder, turning to leave.

  I’m now flying down the hallways of the school and pushing all these freaking huge assholes that are walking slow as molasses out of my way, muttering, “When did all these damn shrimps hit a growth spurt? Shit, they weren’t lying in sex-ed. That damn puberty is potent.”

  Giggling to myself, I burst into my first class. I honestly can’t tell you what the class is. All I know is T-221. Don’t know the teacher or the subject. I don’t care.

  Now here it is, ladies and gents. The most important morning that forever changes the small, little hiccup called my lifetime.

  As the door slams behind me, I glance up to find a seat that’s not in the front of the class and not next to Stinky Pete’s desk. And during my search, Jesus Christ, something unexplainable happens for the first time.

  My baby blue eyes meet his hazel greens. Michael Cage. I remember Michael from last year. We sat at the same lunch table and he was always making me laugh. He was funny as hell. And he was quick to tell me that I couldn’t remember him from the sixth grade. He teased me all last year, calling me a stuck-up bitch because of it too. He also said that if I wasn’t pretty he never would have spoken a single word to my stuck-up ass.

  Ours eyes clash and my first thought is, Holy shit, puberty was kind to you, my friend. Immediately my second thought occurs after he smiles half a smile and I see a dimple on his left cheek pop out. Then I watch his green eyes light up as he nods to the seat in front of him. So like I said, my second thought is, Dear God, baby boy, you are mine, you just don’t know it yet. I grin and keep my eyes down until I slide into the seat in front of him. FUUUUUUCK!

  I feel him lean up behind me, and his whisper tickles the hair on my neck. “Damn, Lil. Didn’t expect this class to kick ass. I’m glad you’re here now.”

  I turn and peek over my shoulder. “Uh huh, I bet you are.” Butterflies take flight inside me and I suck in the divine smell of him.

  After the last bell rings, we all line up like ants, shuffling and pushing against each other on our way out. I run into my girlfriends once I make it outside.

  Yes, I’ve made friends. I don’t have many, maybe a handful. I don’t like having too many girls in my inner circle. I tried that in the sixth grade. Girls are finicky; I learned that very early in my introduction to socializing. You repeat one thing they say and then there you stand in the middle of the wildfire it lit while those bitches are good and well on their way to lynching your ass.

  My friends and I are giggling and chatting, each and every one of them is going crazy over one boy or another. As I
listen to their testaments and declarations of love for whomever they’ve decided to claim, I’m scanning the crowd for Allen.

  I’m worried about my baby brother; sixth grade scared the shit out of me on day one. From behind me, arms wrap around the top of my shoulders and a chin rests on top of my head.

  Shit, he smells good. Allen runs in front of me with a huge grin plastered across his face and Michael chuckles against my back.

  “Look at who I found.” His deep voice reverberates through me as he speaks. “Allen, were those four-letter words I heard you throwing at your locker back there, kid?”

  Shudders, butterflies, and a whole lot of other shit I’ve never felt before run through my entire body instantly. I don’t even hear or care what Michael is saying. Just please don’t let go, and please don’t stop talking.

  Within the first week of my eighth grade year, Michael Cage and Lillian Shaw become the IT couple of the school. All the girls want to be me and want Michael, and all the guys now see me as their next conquest and want to be Michael.

  Michael walks me to every class, holding me tucked up to him and blocking anyone from bumping into me. And just like he does when he gets me to each class, he pushes me up behind the door. I let his body swallow mine as he pulls me up to him, his hands resting on my neck and his thumbs brushing my cheeks. He ducks down to my height and I look up into his sparkling green eyes. His dirty blond hair falls over his brow and as he leans in, kissing me. I brush his hair aside and smile through our kiss.

  God, I am in heaven, I sigh as he straightens leads me into my class with his hand on the small of my back. Then he turns to leave and go to his own class.

  “I’ll see you in an hour, baby.” He winks and off he goes.

  After the bell rings, he’s standing across the hall, leaned up against the lockers, waiting for me. He flashes me a half smile, pushing off the lockers to make his way to me.

  “Hey, Lil. How was class, baby? None of these assholes tried anything, did they?” He punches some guy who plays on the football team with him on the upper arm.

  “No, Tarzan. Calm down. My virtue remains, I assure you.” Laughing, he scoops me up while still walking and bites at my neck then just as quickly sets me down and tucks me under his arm.

  He leans in and places his mouth against my ear. “Baby, that virtue remaining thing is something I plan to rectify.”

  “Ha!” Michael opens the door and leads me into the lunchroom. “If my virtue is what you’re after, you better be in for the long haul, baby. I will hold on to this V card for quite some time, my love. Sorry.”

  Through his beautiful smile he tells me, “I’ll wait, Lillian. I’ll wait as long as I need to, baby. Always remember that.” Leaning down, he places a kiss on the end of my nose. “Now, did you bring your lunch, babe, or you want something from the line?”

  “Naw, I’m good. I’m gonna go outside and find us a spot. Meet me out there, ’kay?”

  I walk outside and luckily find an empty spot under one of the huge oak trees. I toss my backpack on the ground and tuck my skirt under my bottom before sitting down on my bag.

  It’s still hot as hell out so I’m glad I get some reprieve from the heat in the old oak’s shade. I look up at the sound of a bunch of loud voices and see Michael step out of the school, surrounded by his teammates.

  How did this happen? How is it that Michael Cage is the one my heart decided it would belong to?

  I let my eyes roam his body as he makes his way over to me; I love watching him when he doesn’t know I am. His dark blond hair is cut short in the back but his bangs are long and swoop across his forehead. He swings his head to the left constantly to keep his bangs out of his eyes.

  His legs are long, and over the summer, his shoulders became broad, making him both bulked up and a good foot taller than my five foot one height.

  He dresses preppy, and every day after school, as soon as the last bell rings, his worn out UCLA baseball hat gets pulled out of his backpack and pulled down low on his head. The bill has been molded to a severe C that cups his forehead from eye to eye.

  Sheesh, he is beautiful, and damn, am I lucky. I realize I’ve been caught staring and quickly look down as a blush spreads across my cheeks.

  “See something you like, baby?” he teases sitting down and scooting over to me.

  I shove his shoulder because I’m embarrassed. “Whatever, Michael. I was trying to figure out what the hell y’all were going on about,” I lie.

  “Oh, well, you think your mom and dad are going to let you stay after school next Friday for the October Fall Dance?” He opens up his bottle of water and hands it to me.

  I take a gulp and hand it back. “I don’t know. Will progress reports be out by then? Because you know I’m going on lockdown when they do. My freaking grades suck bad.”

  “Lil, what the hell? How can your grades suck so bad? We just freaking started!” He’s looking at me with concern on his face.

  “Ah, I don’t know. It can’t help that this hot guy keeps me up on the phone until three a.m. on school nights.”

  “Hot guy, huh?” He winks. “Admit it. You love me keeping you up all night long. And no, baby. Progress reports won’t come out for three more weeks. So you’ll be clear. Can we try to get your grades up though? I’d really like you to be able to come over or go to the movies during Thanksgiving break.”

  He leans over and pulls me into his lap. His hand is skin to skin with my thigh, making circles with his fingertips. His other hand comes up and brushes my hair behind my back. Then he pulls me forward and kisses me over and over with tiny little kisses.

  He leans back and looks me in the eyes. “Lil, I can’t go a whole week without seeing you. You know that. Please don’t make me. I’ll go crazy.”

  Shit. He is going to kill me.

  Lilly’s voice echoes in my mind, “No, I doubt he’ll kill ya, girl. Make you fall in love and change your life forever though? Yes.” Then she sighs.

  It’s Friday, the day of the October Fall Dance and the last school bell rings. I am so giddy and excited I can barely stand it.

  Michael has PE last hour, and we usually meet outside after the last bell, but today I make my way to the girls’ locker room to change out of my school uniform and into my street clothes.

  I’m in one of the stalls, shimmying into my blue jeans and new black top that is just low enough and just tight enough to be my new favorite shirt. I flip my head upside down and shake the school day out of my hair before I walk out and shove my backpack and school clothes into my locker.

  Walking out of the locker room I spot Melisa, Darcy, and Becca. I run up to them, practically jumping with excitement.

  “Hey! Oh my God, this is going to be SO FUN!” We all squeal and make our way into the gym.

  The lights are off, and the school has gone all out. There is fog everywhere coming from a fog machine hidden somewhere, and bright, dancing lights shimmer across the walls and dancing eighth graders. And the music is so loud the bass beats all the way to my bones. The gym is about half full with dancing kids.

  My friends and I make our way around the dance floor, dancing and laughing while scanning the dark gym trying to find our group.

  You know how in all the ’80s movies they show junior high dances and all the boys are on one side of the gym and all the girls are on the opposite side? I would like to gladly announce that that ain’t how it is at my junior high school dances.

  This, my friends, is a dance. We are not shy and we never feel awkward. We jump in, and dammit, we dance! We dance until we are plastered in sweat; we laugh and have a damn blast the entire time.

  At the end of the dance, Michael pulls me up so close that there isn’t a part on my body not against his, swaying back and forth to a slow song by Boyz II Men. Michael has one hand under my hair resting on my neck and the other in the back pocket of my blue jeans, holding me to him. Looking up at him, I say through a smile, “Hey, baby, you wanna go outside and wait f
or the dance to end? Get ahead of everyone else pushing to get out? I need some freaking fresh air. I am sweated down.”

  Grabbing my hand, he smiles then leads me to the exit of the gym.

  I quickly notice that he isn’t leading me out the front but toward a side door of the school. He pushes the door open. Looking up into his eyes, I walk in front of him with a smirk on my face.

  “Don’t think, Mr. Michael Cage, that I don’t know what you are doing. You should be ashamed of your half-ass attempts to corner little ol’ me out here in the scary dark. Whoa! Shit, Michael!” I squeal as he throws me over his shoulder and starts smacking my ass with his hand. “Dammit, put me down, you big bully!”

  After he walks away from the building and behind one of the T-buildings, he sets me back on my feet. Half a second later, his body swallows mine whole.

  He kisses me from my mouth to my ear then runs kisses and licks down my neck to my shoulders; my entire body is immediately ignited with something I have never felt before in all of my life.

  His leg moves so that his thigh is between mine. He starts rocking it against me and I swear to God my body is going to fly apart. I can’t even think straight. I feel myself melt into him and I know in that second I would hand over my heart, life… I would hand him my world if he asked for it.

  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I hear Lilly sigh, “I love him, don’t you, Lil? Let yourself go. Don’t hold back anymore. He would never hurt you. He loves you. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

  I grab Michael by his hair and push back against him. I want to climb inside him. I want this to never, ever end. I kiss him with everything I have. I am a total novice at this kissing thing—especially the open-mouth-and-with-tongue-kissing thing, but I don’t give a damn. I kiss him like I’ve been kissing him for years, I kiss him until we both have to pull away and catch our breath.

  “Fuck, Lil. Damn you taste so good.” Pulling me up into a hug until my toes are no longer touching the ground, I feel his face in my hair and hear him breathe in deep as his arms tighten.