Fallout (39 page)

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Authors: Ellen Hopkins

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Family, #General, #Orphans & Foster Homes, #Social Issues, #Adolescence, #Drugs; Alcohol; Substance Abuse

BOOK: Fallout
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HE MANAGES NOT TO CHOKE

But just barely. Kortni shoots

evil eye arrows. Touché, bitch.

Well, uh …
, he beer-sputters.
You know how we met, right?

“Haven’t a clue. Neither of you

has ever really talked about it.”

Why does he need to discuss this
now?
Kortni tries to interfere.

I look her dead in the eye. “This is not

your business. I want to know.”

S’all right
, slurs Dad.
Why not?
This is as good a time as any.
Remember I tol’ you ’bout my old
buddy Trey? Well, he was married
to your mom at the time, and they
had a little girl. Autumn. Pretty thing.
I used to take care of her while
Kristina worked. After Trey moved
out, of course. Always kind of felt
bad about her coming between us.

“Wait!” Hunter, me, Donald, David …

“Are you saying Mom has another daughter?

And what do you mean, ‘coming

between us’? Coming between who?”

Me and Trey. See, I was just
supposed to stay a few days.
But God. It was a bottomless
party, crystal 24-7. Hard to walk
away from that. And you know
the crystal scene. Shit makes you
horny as hell. Everyone screwing
everyone. Only when me and Kristina
hooked up, we had chemistry.
Thought for sure it was love, but
you think all kinds of crazy shit
when you’re tweaking. Trey came
home from a score and found us
mid-dirty. And that’s pretty much
how I met your mom and lost
my best friend. Now can I eat?

HE WOLFS

The rest of his burger, and since

I’m no longer hungry, I push

my plate across the table, watch

him finish my Thanksgiving dinner.

“Can we please go now?”

He doesn’t seem to understand
(or maybe just doesn’t care) how
this disclosure (yes, I asked for it)
has rocked me. Torpedoed me.
Can I please finish my beer first?

I don’t look at him or Kortni

as I consider what this means

to me. Why didn’t anyone ever

tell me I have a sister somewhere?

Mom never once mentioned her.

And then there’s the whole part

about how my dad pretty much

broke up her marriage. Yeah,

the drug scene didn’t help, but

how do you just waltz right in and …

Oh. My. God. Not only did Dad

waltz right in and break up a marriage,

but Mom waltzed away with him, broke

up a best friendship. I am my mother.

And that is something I just can’t be.

I WAIT IN THE CAR

While Dad pays the bill, sunk

very low in the not-plush seat,

digesting. Not food. Information.

Revelation.

Dad sways a bit. Kortni props

him, but she’s not in great shape

herself. They look like cartoon drunks.

Caricatures.

Neither of them should take the wheel.

But even if I knew how to drive,

Dad would not admit inebriation.

Impairment.

No one speaks as he starts the car,

backs up, barely missing the truck

behind him. In my belly, knots of worry.

Apprehension.

The knots clench as we weave toward

the on-ramp. Not far, the windows

swirl with red and blue lights.

Spotlights.

Hunter
DAMN COLD

For the first weekend in December

the temperature has trouble climbing

to thirty degrees, and the mountains

look like sugar donuts beneath early snow.

I’m up at first light and off to announce

the Sparks Hometowne Christmas Parade.

As I leave, I hear Nikki’s heavy breathing.
Fast asleep, despite my noise.
You’ve seen
one parade, you’ve seen them all
, she said
last night, when I asked her to come along.
Sleeping in sounds better. Anyway, you’ll
be the star. You won’t have time for me.

Okay, that part is mostly true. When you’re busy

playing celebrity, you don’t have much time

for your tag-along girlfriend. Still, I want her to

be there. I lie down beside her, kiss the warm

pulse at the hollow of her neck. It’s enough

to stir her from dreams. Enough to make me

wish I could stay. “Sure you won’t change

your mind?” I slide my hand beneath the ginger-

scented blankets, find the satin skin of her thigh,

seduce her into that perfect state of not-quite-all-

the-way-awake. “I want you to be there with

me. You’re my good-luck charm, you know.”

Nik smiles.
Bet you say that to all the girls.
Now let me go back to sleep. Love you.

“Love you, too.” My hand doesn’t want

to go. But the rest of me has to, so it tags

along. “If you decide to come see Santa,

you know where to find me.” But her breathing

tells me she’s already most of the way back

to dreamland. Wonder who’s waiting for her there.

CHARMLESS

It takes forever to find parking,

despite the early hour. The main

drag is cordoned off, leaving

Victorian Avenue car-less except

for the ones soon to be parading.

I park in the Nugget Casino

garage, walk several blocks

to the corner where Montana

and I will announce equestrian

teams, bands, and local dignitaries,

shivering as they wave from

the decks of classic convertibles.

The Shriners will drive funny

little cars and unicycles. Civic

groups will flaunt tractor-pulled

floats. Scout troops will march

in formation, the university

cheerleaders will cartwheel,

clowns will throw candy. And,

bringing up the rear, Santa and

his missus will arrive in a horse-

pulled sleigh so the kids will

know Christmas is coming and

the malls will be open overtime.

Nikki’s right. Totally predictable.

PREDICTABLE OR NOT

I’ve always kind

of enjoyed the whole
“it’s beginning to look
a lot like Christmas”

spiel. The parade

serves as a kickoff

to a month of “loving
each other so Santa will
come” kind of feelings.

Christmas should be

all year. Only, then

we’d go broke. Never
mind. Actually, this year
I have a little spending

cash. Think I’ll get

Nikki something

really special. Jewelry,
maybe. Or better (for me),
lingerie. Maybe I’ll ask

Montana’s opinion.

There she is, setting up

the mics. Women who
aren’t afraid of work rock.
Especially when it would

be my work otherwise.

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