Too Good to Be Forgotten
“Transitive” by Corey Pressman
During lunch, Danny Palmer asks Kim if it’s true her mom went nuts.
Kim’s sitting alone at the table next to his in the back of the cafeteria, not eating. She’s saving up the money her grandma Ivalene gives her every day to buy a tube of strawberry lip gloss and a purse to carry it in, like Amy, her best friend, has. Amy usually sits with Kim, but the last couple of days she’s been spending her lunch period near the band room making out with Johnny Chew underneath the Sharks mural. Kim’s jealous. She’s three months older than Amy and hasn’t had a boy even look at her like that. She wishes Matt Martell would look at her like that.
Matt is sitting with Danny, carving band names into the tabletop with his pearl-handled pocket knife. He likes AC/DC, Van Halen, and KISS. Amy says only druggies and scums listen to that kind of music. “Don’t you know what KISS stands for?”
Kim thinks Matt is super fine. He’s fifteen, but still in eighth. He failed first grade twice at Bayshore because instead of learning to read, he beat up on the other kids and set the trash cans on fire. Kim’s heard Matt’s been to Crowl Detention Center three times. “He may be a babe but he’s nothing but trouble,” Amy tells her. “You could do a lot better if you’d just learn to feather your hair.”
Danny’s in seventh, like Kim and Amy. Once, when they were in the third grade, Kim kicked him in the shins for pulling her hair and calling her Little Kimmy. The kids call Danny NBC because his front tooth is shaped like the “N” in the TV logo. He says he chipped it last year when he rode his BMX off the top of the River Trails’ laundromat, but no one believes him.
“Well?” Danny kicks the leg of her chair. “Did your mom flip her wig, or what?”
Kim tells Danny she doesn’t know what he’s talking about, though she does, of course. Every kid at Suncoast Middle must know by now. At least every kid who lives in River Trails. Up until a few weeks ago – before the electric was shut off and the landlord came pounding on the door and Kim finally had to break down and call her grandma Ivalene – Kim’s mom spent hours, sometimes even whole days, pacing the driveway in her orange robe, chain-smoking cigarettes and flicking them at passing cars. Kim’s trailer was near the entrance of the park, right on Suwanee Drive. There were a lot of passing cars.
Kim doesn’t know what’s wrong with her mom, but she thinks it has something to do with Clyde, her mom’s boyfriend, not coming around anymore. Clyde used to be at their house every other night, hogging the TV and crushing beer bottle caps with his bare hands. After the 11 o’clock news, her mom and Clyde would go into the back bedroom and turn on the stereo. Kim would lay in her own room with the door open and listen for the music to stop. When it did, Clyde would come out in the hallway with her mom and say, “Another night, darlin’.” Then his motorcycle would start up and tear out of the driveway, not caring who it woke up.
Ivalene insists Kim’s mom is just sick. But before Ivalene and grandpa George took her to that hospital in Arcadia, Kim’s mom said her head was haunted and told Kim she’d better watch out for people who live in mirrors. Kim figures her mom is definitely crazy, but she’s not about to tell Danny Palmer that.
“Hey,” says Danny. “I heard your mom was sucking too much dick and one of them poked her in the brain.”
Matt keeps carving with his knife, laughing like Kim knew he would, but wished he wouldn’t.
Danny grabs his crotch. “How ‘bout I make you crazy?”
“Ain’t you too busy making your dog crazy?”
Matt laughs again. “Damn!” He blows the wood shavings away and runs his hand over the table.
Danny leans closer to Kim. “Don’t worry, baby, there’s plenty of Danny to go around.”
“That’s not what I heard.”
“Double damn.” Matt punches Danny on the arm. “That girl’s doggin’ you, man.”
Danny kicks her chair harder. “What’d you say?”
Kim’s heart is in her throat, throbbing. Matt has quit cutting into the table and is looking her way, his hand wrapped around the handle of the knife. His eyes are dark and mean and beautiful.
“What’s the matter?” Kim says to Danny. “Your ears small too?”
“Shee-it!” says Matt.
“That’s it,” Danny says, though he doesn’t move. “Who the fuck d’you think you are?”
Kim gives him the finger.
“You’re dead,” says Danny.
“Whatever.”
“You’re lucky I don’t take you outside right now and teach you a lesson.”
Matt stands up and closes his knife. He puts it in his back pocket. “C’mon, man. Forget her. I need a smoke.”
***
That afternoon, Kim can’t wait to tell Amy about what happened with Matt Martell. But when she gets on the bus, Amy’s sitting in the back with Johnny, and the only open seat Kim can find is up front next to Tina Crepps, the skinny sixth-grader who always smells like pee and mosquito spray.
The one bus stop for all the kids in River Trails is in the middle of the park near the playground that no one ever plays at anymore. Kim used to like the teeter-totter when she was in grade school, but that was torn out years ago by some high school kids who dragged it to the pond next to the pavilion to tease the alligator.
Kim’s the first one off and she waits for Amy, who usually stays with her at the front of the park until Ivalene comes to pick up her and her little brother Joey. Even though Kim and Joey have to live with Ivalene and George at their condo in Cape Coral, a city downriver from North Fort Myers, Ivalene doesn’t want the school to know what’s going on. “Your mother’s got to end this nonsense once summer’s over,” Ivalene said.
Amy and Johnny walk off the bus together, squeezing through the door with their hands in each other’s back pocket.
“We’re going to Johnny’s to watch Up in Smoke,” Amy says to Kim. “Wanna come?”
“You know I can’t.”
“Why can’t she come?” Johnny is a tall, pudgy boy with a crew cut and rebel flag belt buckle. Kim thinks Amy could do better, what with her feathered hair and all.
“Her grandma’s coming to get her.”
“I thought you were going to wait with me,” Kim says.
Amy takes her hand out of Johnny’s pocket and pulls a small plastic hairbrush out of her purse. She runs it through her hair, which is blonde and shiny, just like Cheryl Ladd’s. “I told you I’m going to Johnny’s.”
“I saw you-know-who today,” Kim says.
“Who?” asks Johnny.
“Kim’s got a crush on Matt Martell.”
“Amy!”
“Well, it’s true isn’t it?” Amy puts the brush in her purse and pushes her hand back into Johnny’s pocket.
“My brother knows Matt,” Johnny says. “They went four-wheeling together once.”
“So, what happened? Did you kiss him?”
Kim shakes her head. “He was with Danny Palmer, and me and Danny got in a fight because he was talking about you-know-what.”
“What?” asks Johnny.
“Her mom, stupid.”
“Do you have to tell him everything?”
“Take a pill, Kim. It’s not like everybody doesn’t know already.”
***
The next day in Social Studies, Kim gets a note from Amy: Me and Johnny are skipping tomorrow and going swimming. Come with? Please? Johnny says Matt might be there! It’s signed BFF and TGTBF, so Kim figures Amy must not be mad at her for saying she’s got a big mouth.
That night at dinner, Kim sits across from Joey and tries to decide if she’ll go swimming. She’s never skipped before, and she knows Amy hasn’t either. She wonders how she’ll sneak her bathing suit past Ivalene. The bottoms are easy – she can just wear those underneath her jeans. But the bikini top ties around the neck and Ivalene’s sure to see that sticking out the back of her shirt. And what about her bra? It’s not a real bra. A trainer, Ivalene called it. She had taken Kim shopping at Sears right after she and Joey had moved in. Right after her mother went to the hospital. “You’re at that age now,” Ivalene told her. Then, grumbling to herself, “Your mother should be taking care of this.”
“That Dr. Schwartz called today, George,” Ivalene says. “We’ve got to go get Elaine.”
George holds onto his water glass and nods his head.
“He said the insurance won’t cover the hospital anymore.” He nods again and takes a drink. “Are you listening to me, George?”
“May I be excused?” Joey asks.
Ivalene waves her hand at him and Joey takes his empty plate into the kitchen.
“What are we going to do, George?”
George wipes his mouth on a napkin, then lays it on his plate, smoothing it out like a tablecloth.
“Can I be excused, too?” Kim asks.
“Eat your corn first.”
“It’s creamy.”
“Don’t smart-mouth me. Not at my dinner table.” Then, to Joey, who’s got his hand on the screen door handle, “Where do you think you’re going?”
“To play outside.”
“Stay away from the canal,” she shouts as the door bangs shut.
George gets up from the table and goes into the living room. He switches on the TV and settles into his recliner. Barney Miller’s on.
“A little help here, George.” He doesn’t answer. “Well, that’s just it.” Ivalene gets up from the table and points her finger at Kim. “You. Eat that goddamned creamed corn.”
From where she’s sitting picking at her food, Kim can see Ivalene in the spare bedroom talking on the phone. In between the laugh track on the TV, she can hear her saying: “It’s too much, Mike; Yes, I know it’s short notice; Well, how do you think we feel?” And then, almost screaming: “Don’t tell me about inconvenience. They’re your goddamned kids.”
Kim takes her plate into the kitchen and dumps the corn into the trash compactor. She throws some wadded-up paper towels over the mess, slides the can shut, and hits the button. She likes the sound the machine makes as it smashes everything together. With it running, she can’t hear the TV, or what Ivalene’s saying on the phone in the spare room, or what her dad might be saying on the other end. Kim doesn’t like the idea of staying here with Ivalene, but it sure beats living with her dad. Last Christmas when she and Joey went to Ohio to visit, his new wife Judy yelled at them for not taking their shoes off in the living room. She made Kim so nervous, she wet the bed the first night there. The next morning, Judy scrubbed the mattress with a hard-bristled brush and mumbled about some people needing to learn manners.
If her dad does come to get them, maybe Kim will run away. She could live in the pavilion next to the pond, near the playground that no one ever plays at anymore, and have Amy bring her food. Amy would tell Johnny – of course – and then he would tell Matt. Matt would come and see her and look into her eyes and tell her he’s always loved her. And then he would lean down and kiss her and they would fall to the ground – on a blanket Amy would also bring – and they would do whatever her mom and Clyde used to do in the bedroom with the stereo on, whatever Amy and Johnny do at Johnny’s house after school. Kim doesn’t know exactly what they do, but she wants to do it with Matt Martell.
She opens the fridge and looks behind the carton of half and half for the bag of Werther’s Ivalene keeps hidden. She finds it underneath a loaf of wheat bread. She takes a piece of candy out of the bag, trying not to move anything out of place. She’s about to put the carton of milk back, when a package of ham falls on the floor.
She puts the candy in her pocket and kneels down to pick up the lunchmeat. The compactor shuts off.
“What are you doing?”
Kim looks up. Ivalene is standing in the doorway.
“We’re having a picnic lunch at school tomorrow. Can I pack a sandwich?”
Ivalene opens the cupboard above the compactor and takes out a warm can of beer. She taps the top before pulling the tab. “Do whatever the hell you want,” she says, turning away.
***
The next morning, Kim gets up early and shaves her legs with a disposable razor she finds in the bottom drawer of the guest bathroom. She washes her hair twice with the strawberry shampoo Amy gave her for her birthday three months ago, and blows it dry with the travel-size hair dryer she uses when she visits her dad. She brushes her hair like Amy does, from front to back with a flip, and wishes she had some hair spray.
Ivalene drops them off in the front of the park as usual, but tells them she’ll pick them up at 3:00 instead of 4:00 like she normally does. “Your grandfather and I have to go get your mother this evening,” she says. “Don’t make me wait.”
“I need you to keep a secret,” Kim tells Joey as soon as the little white car pulls away.
Joey crosses his heart and hopes to die.
“Stick a needle in your eye?”
Joey nods.
The park is quiet as they make their way down Suwanee Drive. When they pass their old trailer, Joey walks faster and Kim quickens her pace, too. Someone has broken one of the small glass panes in the front door and the grass is shin-high in places. The trailer looks like it’s been abandoned for years.
Amy and Johnny are at the corner of the turn off that leads to the bus stop. As Joey walks on to wait for his bus, Kim calls out, “You won’t tell Grandma, right?”
He calls back over his shoulder. “I stuck a needle, didn’t I?”
“You bring your suit?” Amy asks.
Kim holds up a paper bag. In it is a ham sandwich and her bikini top. She’s wearing the bottoms.
“Super,” says Amy. “We’ll go to Johnny’s first and then we’ll go to the pool.”
In the distance, a bus rumbles its way toward them. Theirs would come about a half hour later.
“Let’s go to the pavilion,” Amy says.
“I thought we were going to Johnny’s.”
“We are.” Amy turns to Johnny. “What time’s your dad leave for work?”
“11:00 or so. He’s working the split shift today.”
“What time is it now?”
Johnny glances at his bare wrist. “Half past a monkey’s balls.”
***
At the pavilion, they read the graffiti the high school kids have written on the walls: I love to give head, don’t you?; Yvonne loves Beanie 4-ever; For a good time, call, with several things scrawled beside it like, your mama, Cheryl “Fat Baby” Ellerman, someone who gives a shit. Johnny finds a nail and scratches a new message into the concrete: Jonny wuz here. Amy gives him a small punch in the arm. “You’re supposed to write our initials, stupid.”
The morning is warm and humid and Kim can already feel a fine sheen of sweat on her upper lip. She wipes it away with the collar of her shirt and wonders what you’re supposed to do if a boy tries to kiss you while your lip is sweating. She’d like to ask Amy but knows Amy would just laugh. Kim once asked her what you should do when a boy asks to kiss you, and she had laughed then. “Grow up, Kim! They’re not gonna ask!”
“You hear about old lady Steiner’s dog?” Johnny’s just finishing scratching AB after JC.
Amy rolls her eyes. “Everybody’s heard.”
“They say that gator swallowed it like a tic tac.” Johnny laughs. “What a dumb fucking way to go.”
Kim swats at a mosquito and heads for the playground. She flips the seat of one of the swings and sits down on the dry side. The black plastic cups her butt and she grabs onto the chains, ready to push off with her feet. But the chains are rusty and cut into her hands. She lets go and watches as Amy gets on the merry-go-round. Johnny holds onto one of the rails and runs along the side, once, twice, three times around, before jumping on himself.
“I’m gonna be sick!” Amy cries out, but she’s laughing.
Later, after a series of truth or dares (Amy daring Johnny to jump off the merry-go-round at top speed; Johnny daring Amy to swing as high as she can then jump off; Kim, taking an easy truth, admitting to her crush on Matt), Johnny consults his bare wrist again – “Quarter past its nuts!” – and says his dad is probably gone by now. They weave their way between trailers and across empty lots. Johnny and Amy walk hand in hand, Johnny breaking pace occasionally to kick at a can or a rock. When they get to his trailer, the driveway is empty and Johnny takes a key out from under a mat that says, Forget the dog. Beware of owner.
The trailer smells like coffee and dirty dishes. Amy and Johnny sit down on the floor in the living room across from the TV, and lean back against the couch. Kim sits down next to Amy, crossing her legs in front of her. Her shoe laces are covered with sand spurs. Amy’s wearing plastic flip flops, her toenails painted a bright pink.
“You want to watch something?” Johnny leans forward to turn the knob.
Price is Right is on and they’re having the Showcase Showdown. An old woman with yellow hair and a too-tight shirt spins the big wheel. She holds her hands up in front of her face like she’s praying. The wheel stops on 65. Too little to win probably, but too much to spin again. She steps aside to make room for the next contestant. He’s wearing brown knee socks and a T-shirt that says, We ♡ Bob. He spins the wheel so hard he almost loses his balance. It pays off though. He spins an 85.
Johnny puts his hand around Amy’s shoulder and starts to play with the buttons on her blouse. She smacks his hand away.
“Why don’t you get us some beer?” Amy says, lifting his arm off her shoulder. When he’s in the kitchen, Amy leans into Kim and tells her Matt is going to be at the pool.
“Johnny didn’t say anything to him, did he?”
Amy tells her not to worry. “But if you want something to happen, it should be today.”
“Why?”
“Because me and Johnny are going to do it after we go swimming.”
“Do what?”
“You know.”
Johnny comes back with a can of Pabst and gives it to Amy. She takes a long drink, scrunches up her nose, then wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. She passes the can to Kim.
Kim takes the can and holds it up to her mouth. It smells like Clyde.
“Hurry up,” Johnny says.
The can is cold and wet in her hand. She puts it to her lips, tips it a little, pretends to swallow hard, then makes a face like Amy did.
“You didn’t even drink any,” says Amy when Kim gives the can to Johnny.
“Yes, I did.”
Johnny chugs what’s left and lets out a long, loud belch. “C’mon double bubbles,” he says in a bad Spanish accent. “Let’s go swimming, man.”
***
The pool is near the front of the park, next to the laundromat. It’s bigger than the one at Ivalene’s condo, and is surrounded by a chain-link fence. Hardly anyone goes to the pool during the week, but the pool man’s there and he asks them why they aren’t in school.
“Teacher Duty Day,” says Amy, flipping her hair.
“Yeah? Well, stay out of the deep end.” He hangs up the net and closes the gate behind him.
Johnny takes off his T-shirt and lets it fall to the ground. “Last one in’s a rotten egg!” he shouts before cannonballing into the deep end.
“What do you mean you’re going to do it?” Kim asks Amy as they’re taking off their jeans. They had both put on their bikini tops at Johnny’s. Kim was happy to see Amy still only had a trainer, too.
“You know what I mean,” Amy says.
Kim looks at her.
“Don’t you?”
“You mean sex?”
“Duh.”
“You think that’s why Matt’s coming here?”
“Probably.” Amy unbuttons her blouse. “I don’t know. But you should be ready just in case.”
“Just in case what?”
“Just in case he wants to. God, why are you acting so stupid?”
Kim’s legs suddenly feel jello-y. “I don’t think I’m ready.” She didn’t mean to say it out loud.
“No one’s ever ready,” Amy tells her. “But you’re thirteen now. You’ll have to do it sometime.”
“Maybe he won’t want to,” Kim says, wondering which is making her heart race more – the thought of him wanting to, or the thought of him not wanting to. “I don’t think he even likes me.”
“Why wouldn’t he? You’re a girl, right?”
Kim shrugs. “I guess.”
“You guess you’re a girl?”
“You know what I mean.”
Amy takes her pink gloss out of her purse and rubs some over her lips. “Listen, it might as well be with someone you like. And— ” she smacks her lips. “With someone older.”
Johnny splashes them from the shallow end. “You guys coming in or what?”
While Amy and Johnny play Marco Polo, Kim sits on the steps and tries not to get her hair wet. She wonders if her suit will be dry by the time Ivalene comes to get her. Then she wonders what she’s going to do with her bikini top. She can’t bring the paper bag home with her, because then Ivalene will ask why she didn’t eat her sandwich. And how is she supposed to know what time it is? There might be a clock in the laundromat. But what if she goes to check the time and Matt comes and she’s not there and he leaves? What if he does come and she is there and he wants to take her to the pavilion? She wishes she just would have gone to school.
Kim gets out of the pool and sits down on a lawn chair, draping her shirt over the back to keep the plastic straps from sticking to her skin. Closing her eyes, she tries to calm her nerves by thinking about running away and living in the pavilion and how Matt would come and look at her with those dark, mean eyes, which wouldn’t be mean when they were looking at her because he’d love her. She’s thinking about what would happen after he kisses her when water drips onto her legs.
“Why’s she sleeping?”
“She’s not sleeping.” Amy squeezes the water out of her hair. “Are you?”
Kim sits up. “What do you guys want to do now?”
Johnny goes to flick Amy on the butt with his twisted-up T-shirt.
“Me and Johnny are going back to his house,” Amy says, dodging him.
“Ain’t she coming?”
“She doesn’t want to come.”
“Why not?” Johnny asks. “What’s she gonna do here by herself?”
“She’s waiting for Matt, stupid.”
“No, I’m not.”
“She doesn’t want to come with us.”
“Whatever.” Johnny unravels his shirt and pulls it over his head. The shirt sticks to his wet skin. “You ready?”
Amy puts her blouse on but leaves it unbuttoned over her bikini top. She throws her jeans over her arm and slides her painted toes into her flip flops. “It’s still early, you know.”
“So?” Kim says.
“He’ll probably show.”
“Who?” says Johnny.
“Matt Martell!” Amy says. “Don’t you listen?”
“I don’t even care,” says Kim, lying back in the chair.
***
Kim’s got one of her shoes in her lap picking sand spurs off the laces, her fingers smarting. She wishes she had long fingernails like Amy so she could pluck the spurs off and toss them away.
An older woman with two kids has come to the pool, and the kids yell and splash as Kim shakes another spur off her finger. She sucks at the small drop of blood left by the stick. Both kids are little. One’s wearing water wings and has blue nose plugs hanging around his neck. The other, his brother maybe, is wearing goggles and a snorkel. Kim wishes she could be that little again, with nothing at all to worry about. Maybe it’s best Matt didn’t come. She really doesn’t think she’s ready. But Amy’s right. It’s going to have to happen eventually. Why couldn’t it happen with someone as super fine as Matt?
Her laces finally clean, Kim’s about to put on her jeans and head to the front of the park to wait for Ivalene, when she sees Danny and Matt walking across the parking lot. She sits back down, suddenly feeling like she did when grandpa George used to take them out on his boat, her stomach churning with the lift and crash of the waves. She strikes a pose she’s seen her mother strike for Clyde a thousand times, and for Skip and Larry and Ronnie before him. One leg stretched out with her foot flexed like a ballerina, the other bent at the knee and tilted slightly. She gathers her hair over one shoulder leaving the other one bare. There’s a faint dirty shoe print on her calf and she brushes it away with her throbbing fingers. She’s wondering what she’s supposed to do with her hands when Danny calls out, “Where the fuck is everybody?”
Matt lights a cigarette. His dark hair falls over his forehead, and he shoves a hand down into his jeans pocket. His arm is tan and Kim wishes she could reach out and trace with her finger the veins that run like strings of yarn beneath his skin. He’s so beautiful, she could just be sick. She rests her own arms, pale and freckled, over her knee, crossing them at the wrists in a way she hopes is sexy but knows is not. Matt kicks a stone and it skips a few times across the concrete before plunking into the water. The old woman says something to the two little kids and they get out.
“You guys going swimming?” Kim asks, her voice not sexy either.
Danny looks at Matt. “What do you think, man?”
“I thought you said there was a party here?”
Danny pounds his hand with his fist. “Wait ‘til I see that asshole, Johnny Chew.”
Matt takes a drag off his cigarette. He glances at the old woman packing up her things. Then he looks at Kim. “You here alone?”
Kim nods and stares into Matt’s eyes. They are deep pools and she is weightless. Floaty. This is her chance. To tell him she’s been waiting just for him. To tell him she loves him. To tell him she’s ready. But she can’t remember how her mouth works. She can’t even remember how to breathe.
Their eyes stay locked for a few seconds longer, seconds that will last the rest of Kim’s life, and when he finally turns away, she feels like a wave has crashed right over her. But she keeps her eyes on him, watches as he takes another drag and blows the smoke out of the side of his mouth.
Danny nudges Matt. “What do you think?”
“About what?”
Danny mouths the word Her.
“No way, man,” Matt says, no longer looking at Kim. “She’s just a kid.”
Then Danny says something to Matt, so low Kim can’t hear.
“Fuck do I care?” He flicks the cigarette into the pool. The old woman takes the two kids by the hand and leads them out of the gate. “This is lame,” Matt says. “I’m out of here.”
Kim brings both knees to her chest and wraps her arms around her legs. She sits like that, hugging herself, gripping the plastic slats of the chair with her toes, as she watches Matt cross the parking lot and disappear around the corner.
“Are you okay?”
She turns to Danny. She almost forgot he was here. She swallows hard against the lump forming in her throat and nods as coolly as she can muster. She reaches down for her jeans.
“You’re not gonna leave, are you?” Danny says as she zips up her pants.
She puts her shirt on over her bikini top and sits back down. Finds her socks and puts those on. Then her shoes. She takes the ham sandwich out of the bag, noticing with a sinking feeling that her trainer is in there. She closes her eyes.
The bread is mushy from the heat and she’s not hungry at all but she doesn’t know what else to do. She takes a bite, pretending it’s the sharp tang of mustard making her eyes water. The bread sticks to the roof of her mouth and she scrapes it off with her finger. There is no way she’s not going to get into trouble with Ivalene. And for what? She has never felt so stupid.
“Give me some,” Danny says, reaching for the sandwich.
Kim leans back. “Get away!” She takes another bite. Feeling Danny’s eyes on her, she blinks back hard against the tears.
Danny sits, shoulders hunched, and cracks his knuckles. “So, did your mom really go nuts?”
Kim hears him but doesn’t answer. She’s thinking about the way Matt had looked at her. She wishes he’d come back and tell Danny to leave and then take her to the pavilion and do whatever he wanted. She’s sure she wouldn’t be scared because he’d want her. Just her.
“Well,” Danny says, his voice breaking a little. “Did she?”
Kim looks at Danny then, her body tensing for another fight, her mind trying to think up a good comeback, something clever so that when Danny goes and tells Matt, Matt will smile and say “Damn!” and think she’s not such a kid after all.
But Danny’s face is soft as he looks at her, his one eye squinting against the glare of the sun, his chipped tooth peeking out from his upturned lip. Her shoulders relax and she’s about to tell him when he breaks the silence.
“My dad once set our cat on fire.”
“God, Danny, why are you always such an asshole?”
“No, look— I’m just saying— ”
Kim is on her feet now, angry tears welling up. She turns away from Danny just in time to see Ivalene’s little white car pull up outside the fence.
Danny gets up too, reaches for her. “C’mon, don’t leave.” He gets hold of her hand as Ivalene is coming through the gate.
Kim tries to twist away. “Shit, Danny. Let go.”
Danny does, just as Ivalene smacks her across the face. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
Kim rubs the hand Danny was holding onto her jeans, her cheek stinging.
“Who is this boy?”
Danny starts to say something but Kim interrupts. “Nobody.”
Ivalene pulls her by the other hand and drags her to the car.
In the backseat, Kim stares out the window while Ivalene yells at her. “I’ve been looking all over this goddamned park for fifteen minutes. And your brother, he’s so worried, he can’t even speak.”
Danny waves as the car pulls away, his mouth hanging open, unsmiling. Kim waves back, hoping Danny will go find Matt and tell him how she just got hit and didn’t cry. Maybe Matt will flip his dark hair out of his dark, beautiful eyes, and think of her.
About the Author
Amanda Irene Rush currently lives in Champaign County, Ohio, on a 9-acre patch of paradise in a house built out of discarded things. Her essays and short fiction have appeared in Vanderbilt Press’ 2008 Anthology, The Way We Work, The Bellevue Literary Review, Brevity Nonfiction Blog, The Saturday Evening Post online magazine, Peatsmoke, and Black Fork Review.
about the artist
Corey S. Pressman is an artist, writer, and teacher living in the Pacific Northwest. His art is shown around the country and has won several awards. He has published academic works as well as short stories and poetry. Corey works as a creativity coach and as an instructor in the Integrative Health and Wellness program at the University of Portland.