Prologue - Teysha

PROLOGUE - TEYSHA

July 2012

"Teysha Patrice Baxter, get your behind upstairs and go change. Lord knows the last thing I need is for everybody to think I've got a fast one for a daughter."

I glance down at the tank top and shorts I'm wearing. "But, Mama, it's hot out."

"I don't care if it's 200 degrees out. Put on some proper clothes. I raised you to know better."

It takes everything I have not to roll my eyes and stomp my feet. I wait 'til I've turned around and Mama can no longer see me before I make a sour face.

Texas is in the middle of a record-breaking heatwave, but Mama's rules are Mama's rules.

Rain, shine, or unfathomable heat.

It doesn't matter. I'm to be well-behaved and properly covered at all times.

I should be used to it by now. Last year, at the middle school dance, Mama made me wear a dress that swallowed me up the way a bedsheet would. The other girls sparkled in their cute dresses they'd bought from the mall while I sat frumpy and ignored in a corner.

Once in my room, I toss the tank top and replace it with the kind of baggy t-shirt that'll get Mama's stamp of approval. My short shorts meet the same fate—I put on a pair of capri pants that go down to my ankles.

"That's better," she says when I show my face downstairs a second time. She steps forward to smooth down some flyaway hairs on my head. "You might think I'm being harsh, Tey Tey. But people talk. This is the big barbecue fundraiser Pastor James is throwing for the church. We need to make a good impression."

"Yes, Mama."

"And don't you go pushing your chest out trying to show off for them boys."

"I don't push?—"

"Do I need to remind you I've got two working eyes, girl?" she interrupts sharply. She tugs on the hem of my baggy t-shirt as if wishing it were a couple sizes larger. "You just had to be big-chested like the women on your father's side."

"What's that about our chests?"

We look up at the sound of Grandma Renae's voice. She enters the living room clutching the aluminum tray of home-baked biscuits she'll be bringing to Pastor James's event.

Mama swats her hand at her. "You know more than anybody. Aren't you the one always complaining about your back aching?"

"Don't make the girl more self-conscious than she already is. You're adorable , Tey Tey."

I'm not sure what to say.

The mixed signals are nothing new .

Mama has pure intentions, but she can't seem to follow God's wisdom about judging people. Grandma Renae tries to smooth things over, but she's as much of a gossiper as the rest of the people they're worried about.

And Papa's oblivious either way. He honks the horn from the front drive. His warning that we have a few seconds to make it out to the car or he's leaving without us.

I'm silent the whole car ride over to the park.

Gospel music blasts from the stereos that have been set up. Picnic tables line the grassy space. Some used for seating. Others for the buffet-style food set up. Plenty of people have already arrived, mingling and chitchatting. Children chase each other around, squirting water guns and playing hide-and-seek behind trees.

Papa puts the car in park and announces we've arrived.

My belly gives a flip.

Wallace Scott stands by the drinks table grabbing a can of coke. He's grown even taller since school let out and summer break began. I'm not the only one who's noticed—the other girls in the area are practically his not-so-secret fan club.

I trail behind my parents and Grandma Renae, trying to make up my mind. How can I talk to Wallace without making it so obvious?

"Where do you think you're off to?" Mama snaps suddenly, catching me before I can walk off. "What have I told you about these events?"

"I should say hello to everyone."

"You know better than that. I've raised you to have manners, didn't I?"

"Yes, Mama."

"Patrice, go easy on her," Papa says from her side. While Mama struts, Papa strolls , at ease considering the summery occasion. "Tey Tey probably wants to say hi to her friends."

"Say hi to her friends or go off with some boy? You didn't see the outfit she had on. Booty shorts, Reggie."

"You remember how you used to put on those miniskirts and sneak out to see me, right?"

Grandma Renae cackles. "I sure do. Why do you think I always made you two keep the door open? I knew what your fast little behinds were getting up to."

"I was not fast," Mama says quickly, her nose practically in the air. "We were in love . And we did things the proper way. We got married so we could be together."

"If that's the story you're sticking with. I found the condom wrappers buried in the trash."

"Renae! Teysha is listening."

"So what? She's getting around that age where she's curious?—"

"Not here. Lord knows the last thing we need is for people to overhear us." Mama shakes her head in disapproval, her lips pursed, then she puts an arm around my shoulders. We've ventured into the thick of the park grounds where other church members are mingling. She stops us in front of the pastor's wife. "Edna, what a nice event you've put together. We've brought some of my mother-in-law's home-baked biscuits."

"They were so delicious last time, we'll eat them right up."

I stand by obediently as the two chitchat, and I pretend I'm listening to what's being said. Once the conversation turns to sharing recipes, I'm barely hearing a word.

I'm not alone.

Papa and Grandma Renae wander off to check out the rest of the food tables.

I'm checking out the food tables too—Wallace Scott has grabbed a bag of Doritos to go with his can of coke. I could walk right up to him and ask him how his summer vacation's going.

My belly gives another funny flutter.

The nerves always get to me when I think about talking to him. I always end up chickening out.

It doesn't help that I'm dressed like I'm about to do chores around the house, swallowed up in the baggy t-shirt Mama insisted I wear. The other girls from school look cute in their summer outfits. It's the school dance all over again.

A sigh blows out of me. I slowly back up to go sulk away from everyone else. Someone walks up first and interrupts before I can.

"If there's one rule I have for today, it's that all the pretty young women are supposed to smile," says Pastor James. He's smiling himself, showing off the gap in his front teeth. "What's got Teysha Baxter so down? Turn that frown upside down, young lady."

"Pastor, hello…" I murmur, brushing a loose piece of hair behind my ear. "Thank you for inviting my family and me."

"It wouldn't be a community event without the Baxters." He leans slightly closer 'til only I can hear him. "Between me and you, you're my favorite."

"Um… thank you."

"You're growing up before my eyes. I remember when you were a tiny little thing barely starting school. What grade will you be in?"

"Eighth next year."

He whistles, his hands on his waist. "I bet the boys have taken notice. Has your father had to beat them off with a stick yet?"

"Um… no… not really…"

"He will soon." His smile spreads to go along with the chuckle he lets out and the way his gaze roams over me.

Confusion flickers through me. Suddenly, I'm thankful for my way-too-big t-shirt. I'm wishing Mama would stop yapping with Mrs. James and come rescue me.

"How are your grades in school, Teysha?"

"Very good. I got all As and one B."

"That's my girl. I knew you were a smart cookie. But you haven't been attending my Bible study class that I offer every other Saturday. Can I expect you this summer?"

…no thank you…

"I'm not sure," I say, easing half a step back.

He inches closer, the spice of his cologne tickling my nose. "If you're to grow into a good Christian woman, it's important you take your studies seriously."

"I will try to make it, pastor. But, um, I see one of my friends. Please, excuse me."

I make my exit like I'm a mouse scurrying in a kitchen late at night. The pastor doesn't have a chance to trap me again before somebody else calls out to him. I'm long gone within a matter of seconds, slipping through the crowd.

Maybe this will finally be my chance to talk to Wallace.

Mama's busy chitchatting with Mrs. James. Papa and Grandma Renae are lined up, fixing plates of barbecue. Emerging from the crowd, I spot Wallace toward the back by the trees. My feet move faster, my pace picking up.

I smile, about to call out to him, then I stumble to a stop. The smile drops off my face as my insides twist into a pretzel.

Wallace is off by the trees, but he's not free to talk like I've been hoping.

He's in the middle of kissing another girl from school. Viveca Robinson is one of the prettiest girls in my year. Popular, fashionable, and confident, we couldn't be more different.

Night and day.

It feels like I'm frozen in place. I'm powerless to stop my heart from leaping into my throat and making it impossible to speak.

The two separate to share in a smile, then grab each other's hands to go sit on a picnic table somewhere. I watch them go, feeling foolish for any hope I've had.

How could I think a boy like Wallace would ever want to talk to me?

I'm not the girl boys my age like. I'm not the girl they want to dance with or kiss.

I'm the girl who stands on the sidelines and watches.

"There you are," comes Mrs. James's voice. Her friendly tone from earlier is gone. She blocks Wallace and Viveca from my line of sight by stepping in front of me. "Your mother is looking for you. She says you weren't supposed to go off."

"Oh," I say, forcing an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I'll go find?—"

"I would appreciate it if you knew your place," she interrupts sharply. "I saw you earlier, and I would prefer if you behaved your age. My husband has a reputation to uphold. One I won't let be tarnished by a girl getting certain ideas."

"But I wasn't?—"

"Marriage shall be valued by all," she recites louder than me. "It is an institution that is sacred. I will not tolerate mine being disrespected. Stay away from him."

The woman trudges off with a final judgmental glare.

I've gone from stuttering to speechless all over again, more lost than ever.

It's not long before Mama calls out to me and issues more scolding about how I didn't do what I was told. For the next couple hours, I'm her shadow, going where she goes. Hovering beside her as she chats up everybody in attendance.

Any time I feel Pastor James's eyes on me, I'm looking in the opposite direction, praying his wife won't get mad and tell me off again.

I'm ignoring how Wallace and Viveca seem to be everywhere in the background, still holding hands.

My heart aches inside my chest. I blink trying to fight the itchiness of oncoming tears. I just want to go somewhere… anywhere…

Any place that's not here.

All I've wanted is to be noticed by the boy I like; all I've wished for is a love I've been told exists. The kind of love in the movies or books, where the couple gets married and grows old together.

The kind of love Mama says exists between husband and wife.

But then I realize I'm being silly again. I'm not sure if I'll ever find that special person. Someone to fall in love with and spend the rest of my life with. A happily ever after doesn't seem like it's meant for me...