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“Sorry, I had a lot on my mind.”
“I guess, and then when I got home, you were sound asleep.”
“Hey, I waited up, you were a no show.”
“Yeah, sorry, we spent a bit longer sitting out in the driveway than I anticipated.”
“Was it worth it?” Donja asked.
“What do you mean worth it?”
“Oh, come on,” Donja smirked. “Did you get all hot and heavy?”
“No, I told you I was scared shitless, so I was trying to pick his brain about this whole situation, but if he knows anything, he’s not talking. To be honest I’m on edge.”
Donja rolled her eyes. “Would you put your fears aside, they aren’t going to kill us.” She had to bite her tongue to keep from telling her it was just the opposite and that Gage planned to marry her. She smiled. “Believe me sister, it’s all good.”
“Do you hate me? Makayla blurted.
“Hate you,” Donja smirked. “Where did that come from?”
Makayla stared with puppy dog eyes. “Well, it’s my fault that you’re in this mess.”
“No, I don’t hate you, the only thing I hate is the threat to my family should they find out that I’m involved with a blood sucker.”
“Getting to you, isn’t it?” Makayla sighed.
“Big time,” Donja whimpered, “so much so that I got up about three a.m. Seems I still have this intense craving for a cigarette now and then.”
“Did you have one?”
“No, I don’t want to be a smoker and I wish now I had never started, but it’s addictive, not something you just forget overnight. Anyway, since I couldn’t smoke, I went downstairs to the computer and did some research on Chippewas.”
“You left me in this spooky ass room alone?”
“Phft! You were sleeping, I wasn’t gonna wake you. Anyway, I snatched a piece of Mom’s chocolate pie and a glass of milk then ended up on the computer until almost four thirty. It’s pretty darn interesting, kinda delving off into a part of yourself that’s been dormant for seventeen years.” She combed back an unruly lock with her fingers. “You know what’s strange?”
Makayla climbed to her feet and joined her on the bed. “Chocolate pie at three in the morning?” she chuckled.
“Besides that.” Donja smiled. “When I was in sixth grade and some of my friends were making fun of an Indian boy who was new to our school, I joined in and since I inherited my mom’s skin tones, no one had a clue about the real me. At the end of that school year when my grandma Anna, who looks very Indian showed up for graduation, I denied that she was my biological grandmother.” She shook her head, guilt bleeding from her eyes. “I can’t believe I was so damn superficial and I gotta tell you, looking back,” she said, eyes on her father’s picture on the nightstand, “I’m ashamed that I turned my back on my heritage.”
“You were a kid.”
“I was a horrible person.”
“Kids are assholes,” Makayla simpered, “and sixth grade’s tough, believe me I know, I barely got through it alive.”
Donja tightened her brows. “Really?”
Makayla wretched her lips unnaturally, exposing her perfect teeth. “I had braces and acne. Two boys bullied me about it every damn day. Sixth grade sucked royally but then in seventh grade things changed and I made friends with some of the popular kids. I joined in with them, mocking and making fun of classmates. So, you see, you don’t have a monopoly on nasty,” she smiled.
“Thanks,” that helps but to be honest, I kinda feel that I denied my blood and now, it’s come back to haunt me. Reap what you sow, that’s what Grandma Anna always said. I’m Chippewa and it’s about time I face it head on and learn of my heritage.”
“You don’t look it.”
“Well it’s a fact. You do know that I’m more than half?”
“Well I knew your father was Chippewa, so yeah I guess I did, but like I said, it doesn’t show on you, not like Frankie, his skin coloring and all.”
