Page 2 of Soul Food

She shook her head, blonde hair swaying so perfectly. Her big, round blue eyes met my much darker ones. You’d never think she was being so deceiving. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, revealing more of her small face. The designer hoody she wore draped over her tiny body like a dress, and the Gucci jeans she wore cost more than everything in the apartment I lived in. She looked like an angel while I looked like I was asking for attention no matter what I wore—even though we were wearing the exact same thing, only mine were thrift shop purchase. It was amazing how different it looked on me. It had always been this way. I’ve brought the wrong kind of attention since I was fourteen. I looked like a woman before I even was one. My curves were thick, my ass was huge, but my heart was even bigger and that was why it was hurting so much.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said in a shaky voice as another tear slid down her cheek. With that fib, just like that, I knew I wouldn’t win. I was never going to.

In that moment, I understood why my cousins judged me for hanging out with Liz. They saw what I couldn’t. Until now.

Thirty minutes later, I was walking down the concrete steps with Liz and her father behind me. They didn’t charge me—I guess my notebook of songs were payment enough for not having to go to jail or pay for the window, but they did threaten me with a restraining order if I went back to the building. I was disturbed at how quickly my day had gone from a contented heart to a dull and broken one ending with a sad, empty thud.

Stopping at the bottom of the steps, I took a deep breath and asked over my shoulder, “Why Liz?”

“Why what?” she returned. I could hear her heels clanking the stone as she neared.

I gripped my sweaty palms and finally let myself glance at her. “Was this all a scheme?”

Our entire lives couldn’t have been a lie. I’d been by her side for so many things. When her mom and dad split up, I was there. When her mom committed suicide not even a year later, it was me that she called. It was me that was by her side as she cried. What happened? Where did our friendship go wrong?

“Let’s go, Liz,” Mr. James told his daughter as he pressed his cell phone to his ear, placing his free hand inside his pocket. Until now, I never truly saw how he was the very definition of rich while his daughter was the very definition of privilege. Maybe I was too happy and thankful that I had a friend like her? Maybe I turned a blind eye to my own black heart—guilty for feeling lucky that my friend gave me the opportunity to live my dream? Maybethatwas where we went wrong. Liz was all sugar and spice and kept her true feelings—her judgment, her bias, and her hate—tucked away from me. Did I reap what I sow? I’d admit that as we got older, deep down, I had sensed the change in our directions, but I stuck by her because she was Liz. It wasn’t because her father was someone like Brian James… Or was it?

Just as quickly as I let myself think that I knew it wasn’t true. I would have never taken advantage of our friendship. I never once brought up her dad’s position in the entertainment business. She was the one that brought it up. She was the one that planted the seed of hope in my heart with plans of becoming this epic duo.Light and dark,she’d said over and over.

Feeling furious once more, I glared at Mr. James. “You’re a grown man. How could you play me like a fool? How can you expect me to sit back and let you take my songs?” I shook my head vehemently and pinned Liz with my accusing scowl. “And that was not how that song was supposed to be sung, youknewthat.”

“I’ll call you back.” Mr. James ended his conversation and eyed me like a bug in need of squashing. “Go on ahead, Liz, I want to speak with Ruth alone.”

“Did you honestly believe we could shine on stage together?” she muttered as she walked by. “There’s only room for one of us.”

I opened my mouth to say something, then nodded instead, realizing there was nothing to say that would matter or mean anything to her. Letting the tear slide down my cheek, I told myself it would be the last time I’d ever cry over Liz. She was dead to me.

“What did you expect when you walked into my studio?” Mr. James said, cutting into my thoughts. “Did you think you’d get an easy pass into this world just because you were friends with my daughter?”

“You know it wasn’t like that,” I bit out. “I proved myself in that recording room. I proved myself with lyrics that are now all over the fucking radio. You both stole that from me.”

“We never signed the first contract, Ruth.” He came closer until he was towering over me. “You walked into that studio every damn day for one person only, and that was Liz. Honestly, three months ago when she approached me about you, I was skeptical. I didn’t think you would have any talent as a singer or songwriter. Imagine my surprise when I discovered you had both. Think of your words as a thank you gift.”

“What?” I hissed.

“For Liz taking pity and being friends with someone like you for so long.” It wasn’t only what he said, it was the way he said it that riled me up, like his words were the truest things ever spoken.

“Someone likeme?” What was wrong with me?

“You don’t have a father, and your mom’s a pill-whore. You’re probably well on your way to becoming an addict yourself.” His hand swayed around contemptuously toward me as he said it.

It didn’t matter that what he said about her was true, ain’t no one disrespecting my ma but me. She was god-awful, but that woman was the only thing I had. I’d be damned if I’d let anyone the right to talk about her, especially when the crook played me like a fool for the last three months.

And apparently, his daughter had been playing me my entire life.

“You ain’t got no business bringing up my ma,” I muttered.

“I’m willing to let all this go. Hell, you’ve got raw talent. I could use a songwriter like you.” His filthy gaze traveled up my legs, over my hips, then my breasts. I never felt so disgusted or humiliated in all my life. “I’m sure we can worksomethingout.”

Stepping forward, I swung out and smacked him across the face. He let me, smiling after I did. “You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re going nowhere.”

And then he was gone, and so was my dream.

______

I have no idea what led me to this unfamiliar street and the abandoned library. I was just walking around aimlessly when I tripped over a rock and smacked into the open door. Falling into the doorway, I barely caught myself before dropping to my knees. Fear slithered its way up my neck. I had already been at the police station for destroying property today. I didn’t need to see that policeman again for breaking and entering. Dusting off my jeans and stepping outside, I closed the door back and then cupped my hands to the dirty glass to peer inside. Soiled books rested on the shelves. Curious as to why the place wasn’t cleaned out when it closed down, I glanced around to find a name for the place but there was none. Shrugging, I walked away returning to my harrowing thoughts of how my best friend wasn’t really my best friend.

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