was off-limits!
Obviously feeling bad for Frank, Brooklyn began to cry. “Frank, I like you a lot—I do. But I’m not about to pass up on Reggie Brooks. I’ve been waiting for him to notice me for months…And now he has!”
Nervously, Frank babbled, “I—I thought you liked me , Brooklyn. We’ve been having such a good time together. What happened? How did you and Reggie end up getting together, anyway?” Frank was desperate to keep her outside, to keep her talking to him. As long as she doesn’t walk away, I’ve got a chance, he thought.
“Look, Frank, it’s over, all right?” Brooklyn seemed embarrassed that all the neighbors were watching, and Frank knew that news of the show would definitely get back to her parents. She seemed eager to get back in the house. She started to back up, away from the sidewalk, away from Frank.
He panicked. Franklin ran up to her and grabbed her arm. “C’mon, Brooklyn, give me another chance. We’ve been great together. C’mon. Reggie has a whole bunch of girls, so you’re only gonna get used if you get mixed up with him anyway!” He was desperate. He was prepared to say or do anything to keep from breaking up with Brooklyn. She was one of the prettiest and most sought after girls at Byrd High, and he didn’t want to let her go. He’d die if he lost her. He’d just die, he knew it.
Oh, God, don’t make me start crying in front of her, he prayed.
“Oh, Frank, I’m really sorry, but I gotta go. My mom’ll be home soon.” She tried to slide her arm from his grasp. Then she drove her point home. “Bye, Frank. I’m Reggie’s girl now.”
At that moment, Frank saw red. He let go of her arm, pulled back his fist, and punched the shit out of her.
All hell broke loose.
The little old ladies screamed and came running out, the married couple jumped out of their Ford, and the guys under the stairs ran over and two of them grabbed Frank.
“Hey, man, what are you doin’?” shouted the tall one as he shook Frank like a rag doll.
“Oh, is he crazy?” said the other one.
Brooklyn—holding her jaw and sobbing—jumped off the sidewalk and ran into her apartment, slamming the door behind her.
The next day when Reginald and Franklin were walking to school, Frank decided not to be the one to bring up Brooklyn. He didn’t have to wait long, though, before Reginald did…
“So, I heard you got really upset with Brooklyn yesterday, Frank. What’s up?” asked Reggie.
“Oh, you know…the tramp got disrespectful with me. She said she’d bet some other dude had a bigger dick than mine. Bad joke. Man, I just lost it. I mean, what right does a whore like her have talking to me like that to my face?”
“Hold on,” Reggie said, coming to a halt. “She told me that you punched her in the face because she broke up with you.”
“C’mon, are you really gonna believe that crap? The bitch is lying, Reggie. You really think she’d admit that she said something that foul? I wouldn’t count on it, hell no.” Frank couldn’t let anybody—especially not Reginald—think that he’d turned into mush over some girl—even if the girl was Brooklyn Speights.
As expected, Reginald believed him and forgot all about it.
Frank did not.
His birthday came just a few days later on September seventeenth; he turned seventeen. His mother and his aunt Bertha threw a party for him, and he should have been happy, but he wasn’t. In fact, it took Frank more than a month to stop crying himself to sleep at night.
Losing Brooklyn to Reginald hurt Frank more than anything else ever had. He missed spending time with her, talking to her on the phone, skipping school so they could sleep together—he just plain missed her. Now Frank not only had to sit back and watch Reginald with Brooklyn when they hung out, but he had to listen to his details about screwing her, since they always shared each other’s juicy experiences. And the worst part of it all: He had to pretend he
Obviously feeling bad for Frank, Brooklyn began to cry. “Frank, I like you a lot—I do. But I’m not about to pass up on Reggie Brooks. I’ve been waiting for him to notice me for months…And now he has!”
Nervously, Frank babbled, “I—I thought you liked me , Brooklyn. We’ve been having such a good time together. What happened? How did you and Reggie end up getting together, anyway?” Frank was desperate to keep her outside, to keep her talking to him. As long as she doesn’t walk away, I’ve got a chance, he thought.
“Look, Frank, it’s over, all right?” Brooklyn seemed embarrassed that all the neighbors were watching, and Frank knew that news of the show would definitely get back to her parents. She seemed eager to get back in the house. She started to back up, away from the sidewalk, away from Frank.
He panicked. Franklin ran up to her and grabbed her arm. “C’mon, Brooklyn, give me another chance. We’ve been great together. C’mon. Reggie has a whole bunch of girls, so you’re only gonna get used if you get mixed up with him anyway!” He was desperate. He was prepared to say or do anything to keep from breaking up with Brooklyn. She was one of the prettiest and most sought after girls at Byrd High, and he didn’t want to let her go. He’d die if he lost her. He’d just die, he knew it.
Oh, God, don’t make me start crying in front of her, he prayed.
“Oh, Frank, I’m really sorry, but I gotta go. My mom’ll be home soon.” She tried to slide her arm from his grasp. Then she drove her point home. “Bye, Frank. I’m Reggie’s girl now.”
At that moment, Frank saw red. He let go of her arm, pulled back his fist, and punched the shit out of her.
All hell broke loose.
The little old ladies screamed and came running out, the married couple jumped out of their Ford, and the guys under the stairs ran over and two of them grabbed Frank.
“Hey, man, what are you doin’?” shouted the tall one as he shook Frank like a rag doll.
“Oh, is he crazy?” said the other one.
Brooklyn—holding her jaw and sobbing—jumped off the sidewalk and ran into her apartment, slamming the door behind her.
The next day when Reginald and Franklin were walking to school, Frank decided not to be the one to bring up Brooklyn. He didn’t have to wait long, though, before Reginald did…
“So, I heard you got really upset with Brooklyn yesterday, Frank. What’s up?” asked Reggie.
“Oh, you know…the tramp got disrespectful with me. She said she’d bet some other dude had a bigger dick than mine. Bad joke. Man, I just lost it. I mean, what right does a whore like her have talking to me like that to my face?”
“Hold on,” Reggie said, coming to a halt. “She told me that you punched her in the face because she broke up with you.”
“C’mon, are you really gonna believe that crap? The bitch is lying, Reggie. You really think she’d admit that she said something that foul? I wouldn’t count on it, hell no.” Frank couldn’t let anybody—especially not Reginald—think that he’d turned into mush over some girl—even if the girl was Brooklyn Speights.
As expected, Reginald believed him and forgot all about it.
Frank did not.
His birthday came just a few days later on September seventeenth; he turned seventeen. His mother and his aunt Bertha threw a party for him, and he should have been happy, but he wasn’t. In fact, it took Frank more than a month to stop crying himself to sleep at night.
Losing Brooklyn to Reginald hurt Frank more than anything else ever had. He missed spending time with her, talking to her on the phone, skipping school so they could sleep together—he just plain missed her. Now Frank not only had to sit back and watch Reginald with Brooklyn when they hung out, but he had to listen to his details about screwing her, since they always shared each other’s juicy experiences. And the worst part of it all: He had to pretend he
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