Oh My...

10.) Talk

Marshall handed me a cup of Diet Pepsi spiked with vodka. In my opinion, the Diet Pepsi just made the bitter drink taste worse, but I didn't say anything. I was just thankful I was drinking at all.

We were sitting on Marshall's front lawn. He was cracking open a cigar and I was breaking up weed on a folder from Marshall's book bag. "This shit nice," I commented, nodding my head in approval. "Real shit, I smelled it as soon as you brought out the damn bag."

Marshall chuckled. "Better than that Brooklyn shit, huh?"

"Well, lets not go that far."

He laughed again before dumping out the guts out beside him. "Thank D'angleo. He's a fat kid that used to bully me, but after I pulled a knife on him he started giving me eighths for twenty."

I rose an eyebrow. "You pulled a knife on someone?"

"He was still tryna be tough when we were seventeen, and I wasn't having that shit." He explained, stiffening. "I grew into myself, and I learned I wasn't getting the respect I deserve," he bit his lip and glared at the dutch, "fuck that shit."

I shook my head. "I lowkey hate that shit," I muttered, pushing the folder towards him. "I never got that shit, to be honest. Why do guys always feel like they need to solve shit with violence?"

Marshal pulled his eyebrows together. "What do you mean?"

"Like if someone disrespects you, you instantly resort to ending their life. What is that shit? I've been used and lied to, but I never considered threatening their life."

"Shit's different for girls," Marshall replied, scooping up the weed. "I can't explain it, but it's different."

"It's pride..." I grumbled, staring at him as he started to roll the dutch.

Marshal rolled his eyes. "You gotta lighter?"

I shook my head. "I don't even have a book bag."

"I noticed that. Why don't you have one?"

"My aunt didn't get me one, and I don't care enough to buy one myself."

Marshall went digging through his book bag until he received a red lighter. "I'm gonna be honest Alex, that's pretty fucked up," he sparked the end of the blunt. "You don't really care about anything, do you?"

"You do remember how we met, right?" I snapped, immediately looking down at the grass under us. I haven't put together another suicide plan since the incident happened, but the idea keeps nagging me from the back of my head. "Life hasn't been good to me, and I'm fed up. Why should I care if I'm gonna be dead by the time I'm twenty-five anyway?"

"Hey," he hissed. "Why do you think like that? Why don't you at least try to be hopeful?"

"Because when I get hopeful, it only ends in disappointment. I'm tired of it-"

"Okay and you're only sixteen. I don't even remember when I was sixteen. Alex, look, I'm gonna tell you how it is," he took a hit, "shit doesn't get better, you get stronger. You learn to live with it and things get easier and good things happen- look, you don't want to kill yourself-"

"How do you know?" I snarled. "That may be how it is for you, but for me-"

"You don't think I was in your shoes once? I was bullied and abused- I can't tell you how many times I sat in my bedroom with a handful of pills, content with the idea of ending my life," he passed me the dutch, "life does change, and new shit hits you. Not easier shit, but shit that makes life worth living. Alex, you're real shit such a beautiful girl and there's so much out there for you. I don't think you realize how much potential you actually have. I mean, I've only known you for a few days and already I think you're one of the best people I've ever met." Marshall shook his head and ripped out handfuls of grass. "And if you killed yourself, it would just be a fuckin' waste."

My eyes burned with tears. No one has ever been so nice to me--usually I'm just told what a fuckup I am. I swiped my hand under my eye and took a hit of the blunt. The burning it brought to my throat soothed me enough to reply. "I just-...wow, thank you. But Marshall, I'm gonna be honest--you still don't know me. I'm bad. Toxic. There's a reason why people leave and why I'm all alone."

"I don't believe that." Marshall stated, shaking his head. "I think you think you're a lot worse than you actually are."

I didn't have a reply. We sat from then on in silence, smoking the blunt and rolling another when we finished it.

Halfway through our second one, I saw Deshaun with a few other people walking up the street towards the house. I nudged Marshall's shoulder and jerked my chin. He turned around and instantly rose to his feet. "Yo, what's up?" he called out.

I stood up and meekly walked behind Marshall, our conversation still replying in the back of my head. When they approached one another they shook hands. Deshaun was with two dudes and three girls. The biggest of them looked like he was on steroids, making the guy behind him look almost like a child. The shorter one was scrawny; his white wife-beater hanging off his lean figure like it was two sizes too big. They both had dark skin, and while the big guy was bald, his friend had short braids dangling just above his ears.

The girls stared at me. The one hanging off of the big guy's arm had pasty white skin and wavy light brown hair. Her makeup was sloppy, and a little bit of her red lipstick wiped off on her chin. She glared at me as soon as I got close to them.

The two other girls looked friendlier. They each had brown skin and dark eyes. One of the girls stood tall but had a soft stare. Her nearly black skin matched the big guy's, and her sleek, straight black hair fell to her waist. The shorter girl had smooth chocolate skin and a puffy light brown afro. She looked the happiest to see me, with her plump lips coated in purple lipstick stretching into a wide grin. "Hi," she said, offering a short wave. "I'm Alicia."

I smiled and stepped out from behind Marshall. "Alex." I replied.

Alicia was dressed in black tights and a furry white coat. "I've never seen you around," she noted, cocking her head to the side. Her voice reminded me of a bell. "Are you from here?"

"Naw, I moved up here just the other day." I replied, crossing my arms over my chest. A heavy gust of cold wind hit us, wiping my hair to the left. I felt bad for the guy in the tank top.

"Chic. Where are you from?"

"Alicia," The taller girl called. Her voice was deep and stern. "I think we're about to leave."

"Why do you gotta be like that?" Deshaun asked, rising his eyebrow. Suddenly, everyone's attention was on us. "Shira-"

"She has work in twenty minutes," Shira snapped, pointing at Alicia, "and I promised her mom I wouldn't let her get fired from this job."

Alicia snorted. "I'm eighteen. There are other jobs. Can't you guys get off my back? I want to make a new friend." She grabbed my hand to further her point.

"No. Come on. We can smoke when you get off."

Alicia pouted before turning towards me. "You should come over when I get off. I work at Giant--ask them to show you where it is." She jerked her chin at Marshall and Deshaun. "I get off at six. C'ya!"