Free Under the Peach Tree by Charlay Marie Page B

I snuck back into his room that night and let him have his way with me again. We kept at it until Momma returned a few days later. I liked what John and I did. It was an outlet, a way to forget about the pain inside even if it was only temporarily. I didn’t like how tormented John felt because of his actions. It was eating him alive. He wasn’t at peace with himself. He walked around the house heavily. He sighed often or cursed under his breath. I imagined he was shunning himself over and over again. I was just glad that he had a conscious. I sure didn’t.
    As much as Momma had hurt me, I couldn’t have cared less about hurting her. Tit for tat. Was I wrong for feeling that way? At the time I didn’t care. I was taking charge of my own life, doing what I wanted to do. I only saw what I wanted, and would have it at whatever expense. Besides, it was our secret. What Momma didn’t know wouldn’t hurt.
    Momma made it be known that she was back. She stumped into the house, cursing me out for not cleaning, even though the house was spotless. She cursed John for no reason at all. I wanted to tell her about my love affair with her man, just to throw it in her face. I wanted her to hurt like she hurt me. And yet, when I had the opportunity, I couldn’t do it.
    â€œHope!” Momma screamed from the kitchen, making me jump. I quickly walked into the kitchen thinking John had told her. Thinking she’d found out. She looked at me like I was a piece of trash and then handed me the phone. “It’s your sister.”
    I sighed in relief.
    I kept the secret even from my own twin. I couldn’t break her heart or ruin her impression of John. He was a good man, the best man, and she loved him too. I was glad that it wasn’t in the same way. I was sick of her taking everything I wanted.
    At the end of the summer, Faith came home. She found me in the bathroom, throwing up, and sat beside me, brushing my hair back the way she used to when we were younger. She handed me some tissue and sighed.
    â€œThis ain’t the welcome I thought I’d get,” she said. I looked up at her from the toilet; there was a happy glow in her eyes. I sat up and smiled. I didn’t realize how much I missed her until then. “I got a lot to tell you, girl!”
    Faith and I went outside for a walk, heading toward the white church the way we did when we were twelve. She began telling me all about her time at the university and how she met new friends, went to some college parties, and fell in love. She seemed more at ease, more confident in her walk and her womanhood. She even dressed differently. When I asked her about it, she said, “This is how they dress in the city.”
    â€œSince when did you care about that?” I asked.
    â€œSince I decided that I wanna go to that school.” She glanced off, focusing on the cornfield while twisting her long hair with her fingers. There was something that she wanted to tell me. I could see the anxiousness in her eyes. “David called me as soon as I got home, saying he missed me already.” Faith shook her head and laughed quietly. “Hope, I want to tell you something.”
    I was instantly excited. “Girl, tell me!”
    Faith nodded and led me over to an opening in the cornfield where we sat. “I lost my virginity!” she exclaimed with wide, mesmerized eyes.
    I almost choked. “You did?” I asked. “When?”
    â€œLast night before I headed back home. David said we won’t be able to see each other for a long time and that we needed to do it because it sealed our commitment to each other.”
    I almost laughed. “And you believe that crap?”
    â€œHe said he loves me,” Faith spat.
    I actually laughed out loud. “Faith, he don’t love you. He only wanted what’s between your legs. You’re stupid!”
    She stood up, obviously angry. “You’re wrong, he does love