Black Chameleon by Deborah D.E.E.P. Mouton

Author:Deborah D.E.E.P. Mouton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Henry Holt and Co.

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And this is the beginning of the first path to Death, for there are many. This is the kind of longing that lingers around us. The kind that boasts of its ability to out-suffer. Makes us give our hearts away too easily. The kind that sees it all but drives past every red flag. The first kind we are taught to chase. We both know that Love seeks those with accommodating hearts. And to show that you can ride, even into Death’s arms, that you can keep secrets, that if you don’t ask questions, you can’t be responsible for the guilty answer. Call it ride or die. This version of mercy I’m sure the gods approve.

Since my parents spent so much time at the church, my friend group consisted of other pastors’ children, deacons’ children, grandchildren of sanctified grandmothers, or children I met at pastoral anniversaries and celebrations around the desert. Often, we would meet up while all our parents shared counseling sessions or were deep in their own worship. For every god has a god. We would try to keep our patchwork relationships going from chance meeting to chance meeting, but most times fell short, since we weren’t old enough to drive. On one or two occasions, our parents would schedule us preteen playdates, where they would trade off the responsibility of offering us snacks while we played outside or watched a movie on someone’s couch. That is how I met Ashley.

One day, in Bible study, we hit it off. We spent the time during the potluck after church laughing it up and talking about how things worked at our respective schools. She said she had already started dating, but the pool at her school was so shallow she began fishing at neighboring high schools. She was pretty, brown-skinned and slim but with curves everyone noticed. But more than that, there was an air of confidence about her, one only gained through experiences my parents warned me not to seek out. Ones T and Monique had mastered, maybe too well. Maybe this was the reason we never had a real relationship outside of T pretending I was the daughter she already had. She spent more time trying to spank me than she ever spent teaching me all the lessons that she learned the hard way. Maybe that is what intrigued me most about the magic of boys. They had a mysterious danger that called to me, even though I knew all that it could change.

Ashley scrolled through her phone, showing me all the names of boys she knew and offering to hook me up with one if I was interested. I was interested. Ever since we all watched both of my sisters bring home babies before diplomas, my parents kept me as far away from magic as possible. My twelve-year-old sensibilities were shifting from Foursquare to investigating how to make that smacking noise couples in the movies make when they kiss. Lately, the crudeness of the familiar boys had started to wane.

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