Dusssie Read Free

disgusting dreads, not soft like Keisha’s, but at least maybe I could go to school? Not that I loved school so much, but at that point I really needed to at least pretend I was normal, not half-human and definitely not a junior Medusa. I guess I was being stupid, not facing the facts, but I felt like everything would be okay if I could just act like it was. Go do everyday things. Be with my friends.
    I still hadn’t eaten, I hadn’t been able to sleep much, and I felt like a zombie. My snakes acted like they were hibernating. “If you stay calm, so will they,” Mom said, slathering mud on them like it was something she did every day.
    â€œMom, I know. ” Like I needed her telling me stuff at six o’clock in the morning?
    â€œHow would you know?”
    â€œI’m not stupid!”
    Mom didn’t like being vertical at six A . M . any more than I did. “You know so much, you do this yourself from now on,” she grumbled, slapping mud onto my head.
    â€œNo way.”
    â€œYes way.”
    â€œI’m not touching them.”
    â€œYes, you are. I’m not doing it for you after today. Wear my turbans if you’re so squeamish.”
    â€œEw!” Not her turbans, never my mother’s turbans. I tied my biggest do-rag over my dreads, looked in the mirror, and felt an urge to flush myself down the toilet. I didn’t even bother with makeup; what was the use? I just gulped down a bowl of Frosted Flakes, stuffed Kotex and some spare mud into my backpack, then left.
    I felt so ugly I took the subway, and I hated every woman on there with hair, even the greasy-headed bag ladies. I felt so low I wanted to stay underground, but I got off at my stop. Seeing homeless people huddled on the platform didn’t make me feel any better. I climbed the stairs, ducked into a narrow back street nobody used, and tried to sneak toward my middle school.
    I never made it.
    Before I got halfway there a male voice said, “Hey, cool hair.”
    I turned, and oh, God, it was the boy I liked, the tall one with eyes the color of tarnished silver, walking up to stand beside me. My heart started pounding, and I felt crawlies on my scalp, oh no, snakes starting to rouse. I had to calm down fast. Right now. It wasn’t like I could ever have a boyfriend anyway, not with a head full of snakes. Forget flirting, forget dating. Forget soft kisses. Forget all those dreams of true love.
    Calm. Had to be calm. I managed to act bored and say, “Oh, hi, Troy.”
    â€œOh, hi, Dusie,” he mimicked. “Aren’t you somebody. New hairdo go to your head?” He grinned, teasing, and suddenly his hand shot out to yank my hair.
    Only it wasn’t hair. It was snakes.
    He was just trying to make me giggle and squeal, but I jumped away. “Don’t!”
    â€œWhy not?” He tried again.
    Because I couldn’t let him find out about me, that was why not. I yelled, “Get off! ” and whacked his hand down, but that just made him laugh, like it was a game, and he grabbed for my head again.
    I blocked him with both arms. “Troy, it’s not funny! Let me alone!”
    One of the creeps on my head, in my head, whatever, sounded a warning. sssevere vibrationsss .
    Predator! another one of them cried.
    Yet another hissed, prepare to ssstrike!
    Trying to ignore them, I walked away from Troy, but he followed me, and that pissed me off. I mean, recent events had put me in sooo not a very good mood anyway.
    Apparently my head residents didn’t appreciate being followed any more than I did. Their voices got louder and more urgent.
    Ssstalker!
    Prepare for ssself-defenssse!
    Someone else chimed in. Musssk!
    Deploy musssk! Deploy fecesss! Their loud brown thoughts smelled like snake musk, which believe me did not improve my mood.
    I had to keep looking over my shoulder at Troy, to make sure he wasn’t getting too close to my “hair,” and he