Everyone else in the class hated the book and complained that it was stupid. Someone had commented, 'Why should I care who falls off the edge of a cliff? If they're dumb enough I'm going to run over and watch their asses fall!' And then everyone had laughed including Scotty. But he understood Holden then and especially now as he watched the little girl standing on the two foot lip surrounding the deadly drop off of the parking lot. The lip would stop a car from toppling the edge … but not a little girl that wasn't being careful. He had an urge to catch her—in the most literal sense, just as he had Holden Caulfield's desire to catch the little children's fall from innocence.
He was happy to see her swiftly back away from the edge and disappear. He slowed his walk as he realized that he was almost jogging. As he finally reached the parking lot Scotty didn't see anyone but a bunch of five and six year olds riding big wheels up and down the sidewalk. He walked toward her townhouse anyway, remembering the fall she had taken the night before. He'd actually heard the blunt impact of her body meeting the hard gravel and concrete. And when she'd lifted her head the sight of the blood and scrapes had bothered him. She hadn't cried which had impressed him even though she looked like she had wanted to. She was a cute kid with long wavy black hair and cocoa colored skin that reminded him of Beady. Scotty wondered if she remembered playing with Beady—but probably not. She had just been two and three years old back then. She certainly didn't remember him.
For some reason it had made him mad that she asked how he knew her. Just because she had forgotten him didn't mean that he'd forgotten her. And the reason that she didn't remember also made him a little mad. That meant that her mother had never bothered to tell her.
He took a moment to look at her. Vanessa's eyes were still just as dark as her hair, which now flowed around her shoulders. She was tall and thin, which shouldn't surprise him. So was her mother. Unfortunately, he knew that kids that looked like her didn't always fair well in the projects; not when her exotic looks was so different than those of the other people that ranged in colors from toffee to charcoal and that came in all shapes sizes and levels of beauty mostly thought that a girl like her was much closer to the world's idea of beauty than they were.
However, to Scotty, beauty was defined by what surrounded him. And to him beauty was found in the image of the black females that populated his neighborhood. Beauty looked like brown skin, full lips, and hair that had a texture foreign to his own. Straight or curly his fingers ached to explore all the differences.
He stopped at the entryway that led to Vanessa's Townhome, taking in the sight of her sitting in the corner against her door, hugging her blue jean clad knees.
She lifted her head from where it was resting on her knees, her dark eyes big with surprise.
II
Was it possible to make a person appear just because you were thinking about them so hard that the cosmos caused them to materialize in front of you? Vanessa had been thinking about Scotty and then she'd heard someone approach, looked up and there he was.
He was wearing jeans that had been cut-off at the knees but more importantly was that he was shirtless. His blonde hair fell around his face, now darker with the sweat that also dotted his bare torso.
Oh my God. He had muscles in his chest and stomach. Oh my God he was half undressed.
She opened her mouth and something stupid came out without her thinking. "How do you know my name?"
He looked like he might not answer and then when he spoke his voice was a little annoyed. "How do you know mine?"
"Well … somebody told me."
"Same here." He looked around, not seeing the white Cadillac.
"Your mom left you locked out?"
If some other boy had asked her that she would have been evasive, not wanting them to know that she was alone. But for some reason she didn't feel afraid to answer him honestly—and not because she was forming a crush on the older boy but because she could sense that he had no interest in hurting her.
She nodded and he sighed and looked around. He walked over to the front window. "Come here." He went behind the bush and Vanessa followed catching a scent of his sweat and soap, which was not the least unpleasant. "Watch."
She thought to herself that he didn't say much, not even hi, but she watched him intently as he pressed his fingers along the side of the screen, catching the two small tabs that allowed the screen to be raised and lowered. In surprise she watched him raise the screen and then lift the window easily from the outside as opposed to the way it had intended to be opened—from the inside.
"Climb through."
She grimaced and crossed her legs urgently. "I … I gotta go to the bathroom too bad." Admitting that she had biological needs such as going to the bathroom was mortifying to her. Scotty looked over his shoulder, she understood that he was 'scoping the scene'; attempting to do this unseen. He quickly climbed into the apartment and a moment later Vanessa heard him unlocking the door from the inside. She smothered back a whoop of triumph and without picking up her books she ran through the apartment and up the stairs to the bathroom.
She had barely made it. Her eyes watered as she quickly tore down her pants and panties in one movement and then released the tight hold that she had on her bladder muscles. Urine gushed from her with a splash as it hit the toilet and she groaned in pleasure. "Thank you baby Jesus," she sighed softly.