Brenda wanted a normal school year. Instead her mom died.
Salma needed space from her sister and terrible ex. Or else she'd lose her mind.
Delilah didn't think she'd have any more problems after moving far from her hometown. That was until she becam...
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❝So when he asked about getting high, I didn't think, I agreed. We smoked some good California green. Took three tries to put me in the place he said I should be.❞
—Ellen Hopkins
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💔 BRENDA 💔
Screaming turned into smiling after opening that door. His friends were funny, so that helped.
After introductions, I was told to calm down, not freak out, about the sight of federal crime being committed. Living in my generation, it sometimes became easy to forget that what they were doing could get them thrown into jail.
I talked to Ziyan and his words persuaded me into not calling him out. I wasn't sure what it was, his voice, the way his hand fell into mine - hushing soft words into my ear - that triggered an instant depletion in my rage, but it worked. Whatever it was he did, it melted away my hysteria. He was smooth with his tone and everything about him made me trust him for all the wrong reasons.
Perhaps Scott was right that I saw something in him, going against my own claims of keeping things platonic in this house. I could keep myself in control, though. Or so I believed. I was good at masking my emotions, as my sister Wendi knew about so well.
"You need to chill," Ziyan's friend, who I now knew was named Jamal, told me while inhaling the smoke from his nose. "We'll be out here before you know it."
"Hey, Brenda," Ziyan nudged me, "Can you get them a glass of water?"
"Oh, sure," I stood up from the bed. I still had to talk to him about the smoke, but figured it was better without his friends near by. I went out the door and closed it behind me, going to the kitchen for some water bottles.
The front door opened and closed, confusing me as to who had left. I looked up the stairs and saw Ziyan, standing alone with smoke trailing from his lit blunt.
"They left?" I asked, peaking out the window, and watched as a van pulled out the driveway. "That was quick."
"Jamal got a call, said he had to leave so that's why they bounced."
"Damn, and I just got the water," I sighed, reentering the kitchen and throwing open the fridge. I pushed my hair out of my face, rushing past Ziyan as he stood in the hallway. But after passing his room, I paused at the amount of money on his bed. Money that wasn't there before.
Without asking, I barged into the room. "What the hell is going on?"
Ziyan came in after me, putting his blunt on his dresser, but not before putting it out on the wood. I cringed at the amount of ash that spilled out, gritting my teeth at his uncleanliness. Before he could say anything, I ran into the bathroom and brought back a damp paper towel, washing off the mess before it fell on to the carpet.
