As I finally cleaned up my room, I replayed the encounter over and over in my mind. I just kept thinking of how I could have stopped it from happening, but didn't. One second, I smiled at something she did, but in the next, I felt a great disgust with myself. How could I just let Priest do something like that? She wasn't ready! A good friend would have told her that sex is no bandaid when it comes to feelings. Sex doesn't do anything except make shit even more complicated. You catch a nut and an even bigger nag, in most cases. For example, now I wanted to ask Priest what the hell was going on. How does she come into my house, do that, and leave without saying anything to me? As badly as I wanted to see where her head was at, I knew she needed space to figure everything out, herself.
A knock at the door out jolted me out of my thoughts. I sigh in annoyance. I didn't wanna do shit except hide under a blanket forever. When I got to the door, I had seen a man in a pretty nice navy blue suit. He was a skinny light skinned man with a low cut fade, who stood at 6 feet tall and was probably round 35 years old. "Hi, Zuri. I'm Detective Marco Grant with the NPD." he says, showing his badge. He was the same officer I'd seen at Vicky's house. I guess I was surprised to see him again, but I shouldn't have been. I knew by now that they asked a million questions a million damn times, just to ensure that your answer stays the same. So, it was fine with me.
"I'm here to speak with you on the matter of Victoria Caruso. Um, may I come in?"
"Yeah, come on." I tell him, holding the door open for him. I lead him to living room couch. I sit across from him, on the other end of the couch.
"Thanks for speaking with me. I just wanted to clear up some things with you. I wanna discuss how you came to meet her. When did you first meet her?"
"Uh, well... I met her in the grocery store. I started a conversation with her, 'cause she looked familiar to me. But it turns out she's not that same girl. Then, I went to a comic store to see if I could find anything I like, in there. She winds up showing up there, too. So we walked in together and that's where the friendship started.
He writes something down on a pad of paper. "Okay, do you know how long ago that was?"
"Ooh, not very long ago. I couldn't have known her for longer than a month, if that."
"Okay." he says, writing down my answer. "What did you usually converse about?" He asked.
"Nothing of real importance. We were just getting to know each other, so we were still on basic stuff, like what our favorite comics were, and all that." I replied.
"So, what was the nature of your relationship?" he asks.
"Friendly. Casual. Platonic." I'd said. "I didn't even know what kind of people she liked— that's how new our friendship was."
He writes down this answer, too.
"Okay. What were you doing on the day of April 19th?"
"Well, I went to my mom's house at around 10 A.M. I picked my sisters up and took them to school."
"What are their names?"
"Brittany is 10, in fourth grade. Josephine is 14, in ninth grade."
"What school do they go to? Do you know their teachers' names?"
I told him, and he takes all this information down, repeating the information to himself, quietly. "Kathy Ribble.... Brittany's teacher."
"You took them to school at ten in the morning? That's a bit late, no?" Detective Grant ponders.
"They both had doctor's appointments." I respond. "Anyway, after I dropped them off, I stopped by Moe's Mart. Probably around 10:30, or so...Then I went to my best friend's house. Stayed 'til about 5, or so."
"What is your best friends name?" He questions. "Verena Price. I told her about Vicky, but she's never met her, or anything. She probably couldn't pick her out of a lineup." I remark. I didn't need her being dragged into this bullshit. She really was innocent in all this. He asked for her number so I went ahead and gave it to him. It gave me an excuse to text her later. I know I said I'd give her a minute before talking to her again, but I had to let her know an officer would be contacting her. She should hear that her name was mentioned, from me.
"And you stayed there until, what?"
"5." I repeated. "Then I went to go meet up with Vicky. That's when I found her."
"Okay, so you remember seeing anything strange when you found Vicky?"
"I guess I found it weird that Vicky's door was unlocked. She did mention one thing about her childhood to me— she keeps her doors locked all the time 'cause she never had any privacy in her home, growing up. She keeps it locked 'cause she doesn't like people walking in her space, no matter what time of day it was. I tried the door just to see if it would turn, and when it opened, I kind of thought something was up."
He interlaces his fingers and begins to talk again. "We have to ask everyone this, so don't think we've arrived at a conclusion about this case. Did you kill Vicky?"
"No." I said, matter of factly.
"Do you know who did?" he asks again.
"No." I say again. Technically, I wasn't lying. I really didn't know. Now, I had a hunch, and I was pretty sure I was right, but... I wasn't going to go on record saying that I think Chris did it. She didn't know that I knew who Chris was. What I would do is, turn over any evidence I came across, anonymously.
He then thanked me for my time and told me to keep an eye on my phone, just in case he had any more questions. I nodded and he walked out.
When he left, I shot Priest a text after I was unable to reach her by phone. It kind of hurt, but I had to shake it off. I couldn't take it personal, though. I think I was more stressed out behind her 'cause she made me question shit that I thought I knew about myself. So, I threw myself into the business idea. I called my sisters and asked what kind of stuff they would like on their clothes or accessories, if they could have it. I spoiled their behinds regularly, so I knew that they didn't know about my business idea, yet. Here's what I knew about Britt— she was always a fashionable person in her own right. She's big on trends that she learns about in school. Right now, everyone in her grade is raving about these new bracelets that light up. She goes to school with at least three of them daily. They say the bracelets represent different things about them-- like if you're wearing a blue bracelet, it means you like Disney Channel. If you wear an orange one, you like Nickolodeon. If you wear a red one, it means you can handle spicy food. It was hilarious to me because it was so innocent. Hell, when I was growing up, those bracelets told a much less innocent story about you. I guess the fact that these light up bracelets were sparkly made it seem all the more innocent. The accessory idea was really in her honor.
Joey, on the other hand, was a very sarcastic person who loved to wear random tee-shirts. She's the inspiration behind the shirts, even though both girls will have their imprint on both sides of the business. I actually felt proud of their interests in "fashion", because they both got it from me. Joey picked up her love of sarcastic tees from me, and I was into hats. It wasn't the same as bracelets, but Britt and I both found accessories to be very important.
Putting my all into this business idea made time go by so quickly. A week later, I was up to my neck in paperwork, it seemed like. Doing shit the legal way was annoying, but this was the safest way to go about it. I looked at my phone for maybe the third time that week and discovered that Priest had finally left me a text message.
I'm finally ready.
I read it in confusion. Ready for what? I completely shut out the events of the past week out of my mind. Even though I was nowhere near close to finishing this paperwork, I decided I needed a break. Besides, I hadn't seen Priest ever since she left. So, I got dressed and went over to her house. And when it came back to me, exactly what happened last week, the same questions popped up in my head, and I damn near sped all the way to her house.
As I lock my car door, I feel a little nervous. When she answers the door, I can see that she's just as bundled up as I was. It was damn near May and we were both dressed for Mid-November weather. It told me she probably felt just as small as I did for breaching the friendship line. She was in a tracksuit and I was wearing a hoodie and some jeans. I made sure to cover everything. She doesn't smile or say anything— she just holds the door open and I took it as a sign to come on in. I walk in and stand still in the middle of the foyer like I haven't been here a thousand times. I felt shy around her again. I felt like a child who knew she was gonna get a scolding from her parents.
She motions for me to go into the living room, so I head in there and she followed behind me. I sat on the loveseat, while she sat across from me in the La-Z-Boy recliner. She stared at me for a full three minutes before she said anything.
While she was staring at me, I also stared back, while searching for any emotion in her eyes. I mean, was she mad at me? Sad? Was she lustful again? What was it?
"I finally told my dad that I didn't care about his opinion about me." she says, clasping her hands together.
"What'd you say?" I ask, concerned. I was happy for her, but really concerned because she loves her dad with all her heart.
She shrugs. "I told him it was none of his concern who I slept with, and that he had no right to keep talking about it. I let him know that no matter how he feels about it, that is my personal business and that I'd no longer engage in conversation with him about it, any longer."
"Way to go, P!" I cheer! "I'm real proud of you."
She cracks a small smile. "It's so crazy. I've always had sex with girls, but I could never accept that I wasn't... normal. And it was all 'cause my dad was feeding me a bunch of bull." she says. "Like... eventually I accepted that I'm gay and it's never gonna change. The guilt was still there, but I was just beginning to learn to ignore it. I was so focused on trying to change my dad's mind, that I was falling back into my old ways. He kept telling me that being with women is wrong and ramped it up once he heard me tell him that I wasn't worried about what he thought. I was regressing, Zee."
I look at her, sympathetically. Her eyes were very sad when she said it. "One day he went off on me again, and I went to sleep, and I dreamed about being thrown in Hell, and all I can hear is my dad's voice, on a loop. Eventually the voice turns into these crazy ass creepy voices, but they're telling me the same thing over and over again, and it drove me crazy. Then, when you and the girls came over, I finally had some relief. I just felt so good being around y'all. I didn't have time to drive myself crazy, 'cause y'all kept my attention."
I smile. "I'll have to tell 'em that our mission was accomplished." I tell her.
"So, when we kissed, I had felt the calmest I'd felt all day. I'm not gonna lie, I kept thinking about it. And as long as I thought about it, my head stayed clear of the... voices, or whatever."
"I thought about it, too." I admitted. "A lot."
She chuckles. "I thought about it so much, I had to come see you— see how it would go without being interrupted. So, I was already on go when I made it to your house." She pauses for a second.
I showed her my neck, which was filled with hickeys.
"Don't I know it." I say.
And those were only marks that I could see clearly. The rest blended in too well with my tattoos. She looked at 'em and blushed.
"When we finished, I didn't feel that pang of guilt I usually feel. That really scared me. I think I finally realized, forreal realized, that my dad is wrong. In a world where everything he said and did was always right, knowing that he is wrong completely shook my whole foundation."
I look on in concern as I hear her voice crack. "You good?" I ask.
"I'm fine, it's just.... I feel free, now. I ain't heard those voices since. I'm just confused as to how I felt worse about being with women, than I did about selling drugs. When you think about it, it sounds stupid." she says.
"Not really, I mean... the whole world pushes that idea. You're just unlearning it, that's all."
"Stuff like that irritates me. Religion is such a sham, I swear! That's why I'm giving up religion. It's just an excuse to boss people around for no reason. There's no way on God's green earth that I will listen to somebody else tell me what God loves and hates about me, ever again!"
I furrowed my brows. "Really? You're denouncing Christianity?"
"I'm denouncing religion, period. If there's an issue with one part of it, then it's all a waste of time." she says, with a confident smile.
"Forreal?" I ask, completely surprised at what she was saying.
"Yes, Zee. I wanna be myself with no apologies. No rules. Not claiming a religion doesn't mean I have to go without God. He loves you and me as we are— we don't need religion, to know that." she explains.
"Well, I'm happy for you." I tell her. "So.... does this mean you're not mad at me?"
She chuckled. "I was never mad— you didn't do anything wrong at all. I just had to connect some dots on my own. I'm sorry it took me this long to hit you back." she declared.
I frown slightly. "Why'd you kiss me?" I ask again, trying to get some clarification. She mentioned voices and all that, but she said that being around me calmed all that down. So... what was the kiss for?
She blushed. "I'd been wanting to do that for a while. But I didn't know I was gonna do it, then. And when I did, I liked it, a lot. I did notice some hesitation on your side, though. How come?"
"I wasn't sure if we were ready to cross the friend line. I really felt like you were too fragile to be trying to engage in stuff like that. It makes me feel like I took advantage of your compromised emotional state. It feels kind of icky. You know? It kept me up, too." I admit, shaking my head at myself. "Actually, I'm not all the way sure I've connected all the dots. We'll have to talk, when I do. We'll have to talk about where our relationship is going."
She scrunches her face in confusion. "What do you mean? Nothing has to change. Okay, we had sex... it's fine. Friends do that, sometimes. We don't have to let it get complicated."
I shake my head. "I think the relationship got complicated when I spread my legs open for you." I say. "Now," I began again, changing the subject. "Did that officer ever get in touch with you?"
"Yeah." she answers, clearly mulling over what I just said.
Then she asked me about what I'd been up to in the past week, so I told her I was starting off a business for my sisters.
"Oh, yeah?" she asked. "Tell me all about it."
And so I did.