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.”
    "No!"
    I hung up the phone and left the phone booth, then returned to the front of the school. I sat on the steps, my arms hugging my legs, my head resting on the cold stone wall. I was cold. I was scared. I was...
    "Are you crazy?" I looked up wearily. "What are you doing out here?"
    "I don't know."
    "Come on. And why didn't you call? That's what I gave you the number for."
    “I didn't have any money."
    "And you didn't think to call collect?"
    "I didn't know I could."
    "Just come on."
    "I'm not going back there."
    "Do you think I would take you back there?"
    "Then where are you taking me?"
    "Look Bari, don't you think if l wanted to do something to you I could have done it in your room? I seriously doubt if Trish would have cared what I did to you in there." He did have a point. "Can we go now? And here, put these on."
    He had been in my dresser? I wondered as he handed me a pair of pink sweat pants. Trish had picked them out. They were eighty dollars. I stared at the capital BEBE embroidered on the top and contemplated not putting them on. I didn't want anything she had gotten for me.
    "Put 'em on," he ordered. I followed him to a black Mercedes truck. Before getting in, I looked at him suspiciously. "Does it matter?" He asked, reading my mind.
    I got in on the passenger side and laid my head back against the seat. I was tired. I was freezing. I was still covered in blood. No matter what clothing I covered it up with, there was still another person's blood on my clothes. What had I done?

 
    Chapter 11
    I sat in the large circular marble tub, letting the water soak into my skin. I scrubbed my skin nearly raw in an attempt to scour away the previous few hours. Darshon called his brother at Trish's apartment to see if everything was okay. His brother said that he had to stop Trish from reporting me to the police by reminding her that she would be forced to reveal the whole story, even trying to make me dance naked in front of her friends. Other than a few bruises, a black eye and a split lip, she was fine, just mad. She told Darshon to tell me that she loved me and wanted me to come home and that she was sorry. She didn't want me to come home. She wanted my money to come home.
    "You gon' stay in there all night?" Darshon asked, opening the bathroom door.
    "How can you afford all this?"
    "We'll talk about that later. Right now, you need to eat something, and I can cook my ass off. I know how to hook some shit up," he grinned.
    "I'm not hungry."
    He opened a glass cabinet and pulled out a thick royal blue and white towel.
    "Come on, Bar," he said, holding it open for me to step into. I sat there looking at him. "Girl, come on, quit trippin'." I shook my head. "Okay, here." He held out the towel to me. I took it from him and waited for him to leave. "Bari," he began, sitting on the edge of the tub. "You're gonna have to trust somebody at some point. You're saying you're not going back to Trish's, where are you gonna go? What are you gonna do? I know you have money. Trish told us all about that, but you're only sixteen years old. You're gonna have to let somebody help you."
    “Why do you want to?"
    "Why not? See, that's the shit I'm talking about. Why does somebody have to have a motive for helping you? Somebody helped me when I needed it. Why can't I just pass it on?"
    "People don't do that. There's always a motive. I'm not ever going back to Trish's, just like I said. I have my own house. I can buy my own car. And I know how to cook good, too, probably better than you do. I can take care of myself."
    "Can we finish this somewhere else? Like downstairs. I gotta eat before I pass out or something."
    "It's after midnight."
    "Exactly." he said, walking out and closing the door behind him.
    The bloody nightgown was in the garbage, along with the pink sweat pants. I dried off and put on the pajamas that Darshon had loaned me. I didn't feel like eating. I wanted to sleep. I walked down the stairs, and he was in the kitchen. I