*THIS BOOK IS STRICTLY FOR THE SEASONED, MATURE, ADULT READER-contains language, sexual situations & subject matter absolutely not appropriate for underage readers or conservative tastes*

"Angie Situation" (INNOCENCE)  excerpt 4

-Erotica-General
-Graphic Novels
-Fiction Biographical 
-Literature

"I’m back in high-school now, feeling a little more mature, ready and focused. 

I enjoyed my summer, because along with all the fun and experiences that came with it-it was the summer that I seemed to have grown up overnight.

Life was great and everything seemed right, in line and as planned and mapped out. The only eye sore, well, no-more like a heart scar, was the Saturday afternoon big blow up that my dad and I had shortly before school started back up.
Kenya and I had been playing around on her mom’s vanity and makeup case while Kenya sat there imitating each and every move I made.

I was looking all too experienced in how to apply the makeup and she loved it; having no idea about how sometimes at school during the day, my friends and I would be in the restroom applying makeup only to be worn around school because we had to wash it off before we got to our homes.
Everything that I had learned in art class about the color wheel, primary, secondary, tertiary colors and how to blend from dark to light; I wanted to try on mine and Kenya’s face.
I was so happy with my finished product on Kenya’s and my own face that I couldn’t wait to go home and show my mom-despite the fact that she insisted I not wear makeup. As far as her eye-lined eyes and mascara lashes could see, I wasn’t high-school enough to wear makeup just yet. I just wanted her to see it and in the back of my mind, hoping she would like it enough to allow me to wear it this upcoming school year without my having to sneak and apply it during school and have the daunting task of washing it off before I got home.

I knew that she would not have been angry at me when I walked in with it on, but whether she liked it or not-most probably, by way of some idiom of hers, would sarcastically ask me to wash it off.
Before I could even make it down to my house from Kenya’s, my dad beat her to it-no, he beat me for it-he completely blew his lid in an instant.
He practically chased me like a crazy man and when he caught me, he tossed me around like a ragdoll so badly that all I knew was that when I opened my eyes, I ended up against the banister of the same exact spot where my twin brother had Cable Boy wrapped around the rail of my TGGF’s dad’s dungeon of a basement apartment.
Like déjà vu, I guess from hearing me scream like a banshee, my TGGF’s father swung his door open-preparing to talk someone else into unwrapping another human being from over the top of his humble abode that was starting to look more like a coincidental attraction for the scene of the next homicide. Only this time, my TGGF’s dad was met by an extremely good-looking, long-legged, talk, slim, grown man-man handling his tiny baby-faced daughter whose face was painted red and blue: electric blue mascara, dark blue eyeliner and bright red lipstick; looking as if she had been playing in her mommy’s makeup case.

With a John Witherspoon-like demeanor mixed with a George Jefferson walk, after my TGGF’s dad took a look at my colorful face; he put himself in my daddy’s place and obviously understood. Unlike the way he saved Cable-Boy’s life the day that Twin had him wrapped around that same railing that I was bent backwards on; John-George walked right back down the steps to his basement apartment’s cement floor and stood under the railing-watching my dad hovering over my badly shaken and near lifeless body while I cried out like a stray cat.

He could never imagine how much he blew it with me after that performance.
It was a bright sunny Saturday and a sad surprise right in front of everyone’s watchful eyes-they all witnessed it: My TGGF, Big Jasmine, T-Rubble & Collar Girl, Basketball Lena, Nina and all my umbrella friends, Rita & Charlene, boys from swimming who had a crush on me, the older teenage girls who I used to sing for-they were all there-startled.
If Male Model was near, I did not see him.
Oh! Wait a minute! I was hearing birds chirp and seeing stars-I believe his mirage was twirling in the circles of the vertigo I was experiencing at that moment, for he had to have been there-no one missed this sideshow.
I was worn out and all too confused. In all my life, I had never seen him like that-ever.
It was almost like some stranger had run up on me-not my dad.
He went from 0 to 60 in a matter of minutes that day.

Regardless how close we’d always been all my life, and no matter the: Star Wars, Battlestar Galactica’s, Superman sequels, Ringling Brothers & Barnum and Bailey Circus,’ shopping together, long drives and conversation, short rides on the back of his motorcycle, dinners, movies and surprise bags of clothes from him being my personal shopper-none of that mattered anymore.
That Super Saturday that he embarrassed me in front of my entire street of friends was the day that he exchanged everything we ever had-we no longer fit.

Because of that one Super Saturday, anything closeness we shared (as far as I could register) had now been exchanged for a permanent marquee emanating from me that read: “ALL SALES FINAL-SORRY, NO RETURNS…”