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IMANI
When I pulled up the driveway, I knew that I was screwed. It was after midnight, Mom had probably seen my grade for that test on the school website, and … I sorta smelled like those Poison boys, drenched in the thick scent of weed and smoke and sin.
Mom stood outside the front door with her plush pink robe, slippers, and headscarf on. With her arms crossed over her chest, she stared pointedly at me with her jaw clenched and her nostrils flared.
Fuck.
She was pissed.
I turned the car off and sat in the cold, hoping that she’d get too cold and walk back inside the house. I could sneak through the back door, run up to my room, and lock my door, saving myself a few moments of her scolding.
“Get your ass out of the car, Imani Abara!”
After bracing myself for the worst of the worst, I pulled the key out of the ignition, put on some perfume I kept in my car, and grabbed my backpack. I had never gotten below an A on any quiz or exam since the sixth grade. Last time I had gotten an A-minus, she had taken away my phone for two days.
Two days!
Once I walked up the stairs, she grabbed my arm and pulled me into the house. Dad sat in the living room in his chair with the remote in his lap and Monday Night Football reruns on the TV. He gave me one long, sorrowful look and sighed, muting the television.
“Where the hell were you?” Mom snapped after slamming the door.
“With Allie,” I said.
“Oh, really? Because I saw Allie at the grocery store earlier and you weren’t with her.”
Dammit.
“So, I’m going to ask you one more time. Where were you?”
I sucked in a deep breath, not knowing what to say. Allie was always my only excuse. She would lie for me in a heartbeat, but if Mom had seen her out today … then she knew I hadn’t been with her and knew I had been off with someone else.
So, deciding to be her perfect little girl, I gave her a fake smile, which I knew she saw right through, and said, “I was studying with a couple of my other friends. We’re working on a project for American History. I didn’t want you to worry.”
Mom flared her nostrils. “Do you think I’m that stupid?”
Unable to hold myself back, I threw my hands into the air. “Well, where do you think I went off to, then?”
That was the biggest mistake of my entire life. I should’ve kept my fucking mouth closed.
“Don’t talk back to me, Imani. If you were out studying every night, then you wouldn’t have failed your Biology test. Mr. Barnes posted the grades tonight, and you failed it, Imani. Failed. My daughter doesn’t fail anything.”
I pressed my lips together, so I didn’t say something snarky back to her. My annoyed ass wanted to say something along the lines of, Well, I guess I’m not your daughter then, but I would get grounded for years.
“So, where were you?” Mom asked, tapping her foot.
“Why can’t I have any privacy, Mom?” I asked. “I’m eighteen.”
“And you’re living under my roof.”
“But—”
“Don’t but me. I’m waiting for my answer.”
She wanted the truth, but I wasn’t going to tell her that I had been out with Redwood’s most dangerous gang. Forget them killing me. She’d do it herself and make sure they watched. She could really be a psycho sometimes.
When I glanced over at Dad to see if he had anything to say, he blew out a heavy breath and grimaced. He never said anything when Mom went off on a one-sided screaming match with me. He always kept quiet, not wanting to get in on the drama. But I wished he would say something.
Instead of answering her, I crossed my arms and stood in front of her quietly, which made her even angrier. She stormed to the kitchen and came back with the bottle of wine that I had stolen from Dad the other night, shoving it in my face.
