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It was after about the hundredth try, when the movers had half the truck unloaded, that I noticed his ass rolling his beady eyes at me. I was using a piece of pink chalk to draw a makeshift hopscotch diagram on the street in front of my house when he approached me. His Kangol hat and leather bomber jacket made him look like a pint-size pimp.

All he needed was a couple of gold teeth.

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Then, the miniature version of Shaft flipped me the finger, made a disgusting noise while he gathered saliva in his mouth, and then spit on my brand-new black-and-white saddle shoes. I beat his little ass too. We were the same age, but I had him by a good three inches in height. Two of the moving men broke the fight up. I accidentally scratched one of the men on the nose because I was not about to stop fighting until the fat lady sang. It was mad funny. They took over, throwing our heads into their heavy breasts and feeling all over us to make sure there was no permanent damage.

Jason and I just glared at each other like two sumo wrestlers ready for round two. My mother helped me inside like I was handicapped. In actuality, I had never felt better in my life. I was the victorious one. Jason retreated to his house as well, and that was the end of it. My parents and I did just enough unpacking that night to get by, threw some sleeping bags on the living room floor, and munched down on some KFC. My Dad hooked up his eight-track, and I fell asleep listening to the harmonized singing of Earth, Wind and Fire. It was a Saturday. I started school the following Monday and was anxious to get there to meet all the new kids.

I rushed through a bowl of corn flakes and caught about ten minutes of The Flintstones before grabbing my tin lunch pail and running out the door to get to the bus stop on time. The bus was about to pull off, and I was panting by the time I caught up to it in time to bang on the door, signaling the driver to stop.

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After I got on the bus, he asked me who I was. I explained I was a new student who had just moved. Now, find a seat, sit down, and shaddup! All of the kids were checking me out, and some were even snickering. I noticed most of the seats were occupied, either by two girls or two boys, with the exception of the one in the far rear. A boy and a girl, obviously suffering from a severe case of puppy love, were seated there. He had his arm around her shoulder, and she was blushing from ear to ear.

I was ready to ask the driver if I could sit on the steps when I realized the only available seat was next to the horror film creature himself, Jason. He stopped playing with his GI Joe with the kung fu grip just long enough to smirk at me. I turned around and headed toward the front to beg the driver to ask someone to trade places with me, but he yelled at me again. School starts in fifteen minutes! Now, sit your be-hind in a seat and shaddup! He was about to be a smart aleck, but I stopped him dead in his tracks.

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I rolled my eyes and gave him a head-from-side-to-side-with-a-finger-snap combination. Our homeroom teacher was Mrs. Williams, and she was displeased to have a student transfer into her class in the middle of the fall term. She snarled at me too.

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Maybe it was my cherry-flavored lip gloss that was making everyone demonic toward me. You have a lot of making up to do in order to catch up to the rest of the class. He was clear across the class, and that suited me just fine. He must have been a smart-ass with everybody because Mrs. Williams had his desk pushed right up against hers, several feet away from the rest of the class. I made a couple of new friends, got to jump rope at recess, made a deformed clay vase in art class, and learned how to count to ten in Spanish.

At lunch, I sat with this little girl named Brina that thought she was the next Diana Ross. Jason did decide to get bold for a minute and started spitting half-frozen peas across the room at the back of my neck through a straw.

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He made the mistake of hitting the PE teacher, Mr. Lewis, in the cheek with one and was immediately dragged by the ear to the office. When I got on the bus that afternoon, I was lucky enough to find a seat up front. Jason got on the bus about ten kids after I did. I stuck my tongue out at him and flipped him the bird. He tried to tell the bus driver on me, but all he got was an attitude. I hate you and I hope all your hair falls out and you get red pimples all over your face!

Well, I hate you too, and I hope the next time you shoot that cheap rocket of yours, it gets stuck up your behind! I was about to meet him in the middle when my mother opened up the front door. I turned around and addressed him with my best voice imitation. For some odd reason, the two of them bonded. I was up in my bedroom one Saturday morning, sorting out my record collection and singing my ass off, when my mother yelled for me to come down.

It was a regular routine. The only thing Mink is faithful to is her next fix. She'll cop it wherever she can and by any means, trying desperately to escape from the secret demons of her past that haunt her daily.

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Mink's troubled soul remains a prisoner of addiction, twirling violently like a tornado and destroying everything in its path. Not even the love of a good man can set her free from emotional bondage. As Election Day approaches, Josiah's bid to serve a second term in City Hall is jeopardized when Mink commits her most heinous act. The media is going wild to cover the tragic murder and robbery of one of Mink's fellow addicts, a wealthy and prominent Hollywood filmmaker who was more than generous to her after she left yet another treatment facility. She's on the run from justice, ignoring Josiah's pleas to turn herself in.

Mink realizes that she's at the end of her rope, but Josiah isn't sure if he has any more forgiveness in his heart for his wife.

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He will always love her, but finally, he desires love in return. His addiction to Mink has blinded him of that one basic need all this time. Now Josiah has a decision to make. Will he stay in the clutches of addiction to the drug called Mink?