It Wasn't Me - 7. Chapter 7- My own nature

I used to watch to soap operas with my mom.

“Mom.” I called her.

She passed me the bag of dollar store donuts, “What babe?”

“If Johnny says that he loves Carol, then why dose he cheat on her with Elizabeth?” I asked biting into the cheap sweet.

She took a slip of rum, “Because he’s a man.” She laughed.

“What?”

She started jokey waving her glass around, “All men are pigs. It’s in their nature.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Jimmy, I believe people are naturally bad.” She kissed my cheek, “That’s why we prisons and guns.”

%%%%

“Hey Fag!” Joey screamed at me as entered the building.

Luckily Matt wasn’t around to hear it. Yet I kind of wish he was. That way he could comfort me about it. But then I would have to talk about it.

“Why do you keep calling me that?” I whined.

“You’re a cocksucker it’s written all over your face.”

I wondered what the hell he was talking about. But I knew if I couldn’t fight him. I just held my breath.

****

“The Scarlet Letter. Which I hope all of you guy have at least started.” Donovan said, “See Hester Prime. . . .”

I was half listening. Then I heard something that caught my attention.

“See the puritans had very strict laws because they believed that people by nature were evil and easily tempted.”

“What?” I yelled out my eyes completely open.

Donovan walked over to my desk. “Yea, the puritans believed that in their natural world humans would make bad choices, which is why they thought it was god’s job to punish them.”

He stared at me, “So Hunter what you did think about the Scarlet letter?” he asked me. He looked like he was really interested in what I had to say.

I acted dumb. I always acted dumb. I was supposed to be the shallow minded white trash so I said “It’s about some chick that gets knocked up.”

Donovan looked at me disappointed, “Is that all you have to say? What about the puritans being a bunch of hypocrites that claim to have left England for freedom yet they become a very judgmental society themselves? Or how strong and bold a woman can be, not being scared into selling out others? Or the battle of Hester’s outside conflict versus the Rev.’s inner conflict, questioning what is worse public shame or private guilt?”

I rolled my eyes.

Then he asked, “How would you feel if you had to walk around wearing a big red letter to have people judge and torture you?”

Joey’s voice rang in my head, “You’re a cocksucker it’s written all over your face.”

I bit my lip grabbing tightly onto my desk, “Can you stop fucking with me?”

Donovan stared at me then smirked, "Most teachers would sent you straight to dentation. But just for fun, I'll deal with your smartass by forcing you to sit though my class."

He walked up to the front of the classroom and talked some more. I wasn’t listening, I was…I felt angry. I wanted to do something…I wanted to hurt something or somebody.

I was lost in my trace until the bell rang. Alfreda jumped up to ask him about extra credit. While he was talking to her, I sneaked behind his desk. I don’t know what I was looking for or what I was going to do. But I wanted to teach Donovan some lesson. Then I saw the keys to his motorcycle and…I grabbed them. I squeezed them my hand. My heart beating roughly. I felt this slight high going to my head.

I shoved them into my pocket and slowly started walking out the door.

“Hey, what are you doing?” I heard Donovan’s voice yelled out to me.

I turned around to see Donovan, Alfreda, and even Matt with shocked faces.

“Jamie.” Mac whispered shaking his head.

Donovan ran up to me, “Hunter, what are you doing? Why did you take my keys?”

“Umm…um” I couldn’t answer his questions.

He held out his hand, “May I have them back?”

Matt tucked at my jacket pulling out the keys.

“Here you go Mr. Donovan.” He said giving them back.

I wouldn’t have done that, but Mac would.

“You okay Hunter?” Donovan asked me.

“Just leave me alone, okay.” I smirked getting out of there.

**************

The story spread to the whole school. Well at least the basic story. In some versions I punched Donovan. In some versions I took his motorcycle out for a joyride. I was marked as the hot bad boy that stole things and mouthed off to teachers. Every other guy seemed to want to be my friend. Every other girl…oh the girls…between my looks and my new rep every other girl wanted to date me. And...I went along with everything.

I walked home trying to convince myself that this was the real me.

"I'm a bad boy ladies man." I whispered to myself over and over again.

Then I opened my apartment door to see something I very rarely saw…my half sister. Stacy was wearing her pink waitress uniform with a stained white apron. She sat on our couch in a shower cap smoking a cigarette.

“Hey Stacy, what’s you doing?”

“I wanted to die my hair in peace.” She said pointing to the shower cap, “I figured Daddy wouldn’t be home, so I let myself in.”

“It’s okay with me.” I dropped my bag and sat next to her “So how’s the family?”

“Well I got a baby and toddler crying all the time and my deadbeat husband can hardly keep a job. I’m working gave yard shifts… ” She took a puff, “Are you really going to let me go on?”

“Well Stacy, I’m curious are you are doing. I don’t get to talk to you a lot.”

She took a puff. “Yea I guess that’s true. So…what’s going on…at school? You’ll still in school right?”

I smiled, “Yea, um…we are reading The Scarlet Letter…do you remember that book?”

She stared into space for a second, “Is that the one about the chick that gets knocked up and everybody calls her a slut?”

I nodded “Yea, that’s pretty much the main idea”

She laughed, “been there”

“Hey Stacy…do you believe people are evil by nature?”

She slowly turned to me, “I don’t know…” then she smirked, “I know marriage is evil.”

I always heard Stacy and her high school boyfriend turned husband yelling at each other, yet I would still see them making out in his pick up truck. A thought popped into my head. “Hey I know this maybe a creepy question but…if you hate him then how do you…kiss him and stuff.”

She took another puff. “I picture George Cooney.”

I was confused, “What?”

“When I kiss by husband I picture that I’m kissing George Cooney, or Mario Lopez, or one of the cute bus boys at the diner.”

“Does it work?”

“Yea…makes it much easier to fake it.” She laughed until the timer went off, “I have to go wash this out.” She said getting up.

After about ten minutes, she came back in the living room with bleach blonde hair.

“I had a nice time talking to you. And that’s a good color on you.” I said sweetly.

She gave me a small smile and left.

I sat alone and thought about Donovan’s class. I got out my black notebook.

In my natural world
I’m criminal

I’m trouble
I’m sin
I cannot resist the thrill

I want to lie, cheat, and steal

My mind knows better

But my own nature doesn’t