Pieces of Us (13 page)

Julie

I
hear the swings and know he’s there. Call me crazy, but I can pick out which rattling of rusty swing chains belong to him. I wonder if we will kiss again tonight. If it will feel any different in the dark and cold than it did in the warmth of day. I haven’t seen him since it happened yesterday, but that’s fine by me. The first meeting after the kiss will almost definitely be awkward. Maybe having it take place by the swings where we can do something besides stare at each other is key.

I didn’t tell Katie about the kiss. She might have asked me to explain, and I can’t explain what is was like … kind of powerful, but held back at the same time. Does that even make sense? Like I could tell he was really experienced but shy, too. That’s all we did, though. Just kiss. And it was nice. Nicer than with Derek. Righter than with Derek. But maybe that’s in my head. Derek felt right at the time. And then became all wrong, all should-have-never-happened. That’s the other reason I didn’t tell Katie. I opened my mouth, even—was so close to telling her, and then she did this hair flick my mom does, her blond hair skimming the curve of her chin, and I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t have someone else tell me that another boy wasn’t mine. Could never be mine. And what if Katie took Kyle away, too?

Maybe she knew, though. Maybe his lips transferred some of their pink to mine and made them extra shiny. She smiled at me and offered another cardigan. A purple V-neck, just as soft as the pink one. She wore a light blue sweatshirt and jeans, and looked beautiful because she was Katie. She kissed me on the cheek before she bounced away, her blond hair in tiny braids.

I put on the sweater and lick my lips. I didn’t eat anything today. Chloe once told me she could totally taste her first kiss hours later. I wanted to see if it worked for me, too. I’ve probably licked off every trace of him by now. But then I close my eyes and run my tongue over my lips again, and I swear I can taste him.

Kyle

W
hen you open your mouth, gasping the answer to Alex’s question, you taste the mosquitoes in the air. They leave a trail of meat and blood.

He lets you out of the headlock and slaps you on the back. “Attaboy,” he says.

You cringe. His touch always makes you want to throw up.

“Get a little titty action?” he asks next, hitting his new pack of cigarettes against his palm. First one side, then the other, then the first side again. Pound. Pound. Pound. You know better than to ignore him.

“Just lip,” you say, backing away, bracing for some hate from his mouth or his fists. But he just shrugs. “Sometimes it’s better when you drag it out. Keeps the suspense going.”

“Sure,” you say, wanting to get away. You’re not even sure if you meant to kiss her back. You keep going back and forth on if you want it to happen again. You never feel in control anymore.

Alex lights the Marlboro Red, inhales deeply, and blows the smoke in your face. He grins and offers you a cigarette. You want it so bad, you inhale Alex’s smoke. But you shake your head and walk out into the night.

Alex

I
t’s cold as hell out tonight. Katya is wearing a sweatshirt but I can see the outline of her nips if I look hard enough. And I do. She’s playing a lot tonight. Swinging then stopping, jumping off, running around, tackling me. She’s just laughing and shit and not bringing up anything serious. I wonder if this is because of Julie and Kyle. If so, I’ll have to be nice to the ’mo. Sometimes I think he hates me, and I don’t get it.

Isn’t this what big brothers do? Beat up on the little guy to toughen him up and hook him up with girls? Fuck if I know, but I wish I had someone around to do the same for me. It’s times like these that I think about Dad. I remember shooting the shit with him. He’d take me fishing and we’d laugh at the small fish we caught. He never let me feel bad about not bagging a big one.

Once, I got real mad, though. Couldn’t catch anything if my life depended on it. So after the trip, we went to this Korean fish place in town. Craploads of fish all on ice. They looked just like the ones in the water, only they were dead and cold. He told me to pick any one I wanted. I picked this grayish blue one, the size of my arm. Its mouth hung open and the eyes were popping and staring at me. We drove back to the lake and dad put a hook in its mouth and handed it to me. Had me stand holding it, like I’d caught it. He snapped a picture with his old Polaroid camera. He loved that thing. It came out right away and he waved the photo back and forth until the fish and I appeared.

When we got home, he bragged to Mom and Kyle about it. Showed them the pic and everything. Kyle was floored. Just stared, open-mouthed. I blushed. Dad put the picture on the fridge. Mom patted my head, but didn’t say much. Why would she give a rat’s ass about us when she had Arty by that point?

When Dad moved out, I wanted to live with him. I was going to tell him, but then he offed himself. Because of that stupid bitch.

“Penny for your thoughts?” asks Katya, corny as hell, but it makes me like her more. Want her more, if that’s possible.

“No, baby, you don’t want these thoughts,” I say, getting behind her and wrapping my arms around her waist.

She rests her chin on my chest and leans into me. I put my arms under her sweatshirt and touch her bare skin. All I want to do is pull a Kyle and kiss her, nothing more. But she pushes herself hard against me. So I go for broke.

I bite on her ear, stick my tongue in there. Whisper that we should get out of here. And she agrees so quickly. Philly Alex would have thought
skank, whore, slut,
but Sasha doesn’t think this way. Not about Katya.

“C’mon.” She breathes hard, pulling me toward the creek.

I leave Kyle on the swings—he sure as hell doesn’t care where we go—and follow Katya. Her fingers grip my hand tight, like she thinks I’ll get away, but fuck if I’m going someplace else.

“Chill,” I say, slowing her down. “The creek isn’t going anywhere.” I pull her to me and kiss her deep.

And when she kisses back, she sucks me dry.

Katie

The air shifts

and I feel the kiss lingering inside me

Parts of Alex being left within

I take his hands in mine

Put one to my cheek

His head nuzzles in my neck

His body

Goes limp

A whisper, so soft, so needy, “Katya.”

Into the night,

my whisper in return, “It’s Katie.”

He raises his head

I bring my mouth to his

Tasting him

Stare at the stars above us

As he erases the past

And let him suck me dry.

Julie

~
Cherry Hill, NJ
~

A
month into the school year, and Katie is different. Not the broken, mopey girl Ethan dumped last year. She also dropped the Katya thing and lets Alex text and email her. And she keeps an eye out for me at school—waving hello, stopping by my lunch table. I’ve almost forgiven her for Derek—who I have to see every day. But having Kyle makes it easy to forget him.

Kyle and I have been talking on the phone, and he seems lighter, too. I’d like to think it’s because of me. But then there’s my mother. She watches Katie and me like she’s waiting for something to happen. Something to explode. I don’t know if Katie sees it. She and Mom still do their powwow thing when I turn in for the night, or say I am. I don’t want to hear what they’re saying, so I don’t strain too hard to listen. But their laughter can be loud. Sometimes it calls me, but it’s more of a courtesy invite. I know better than to think it’s really asking.

Katie

T
he thing with being happy is that it’s easy to forget that my world once imploded around me. Like today, I get the pizza lunch and walk to my regular table. Everyone is huddled together, and Trina sees me first. She gives a quick wave, then starts whispering and gesturing like she’s taking Miming 101.

Then I see Marissa’s face and she bites her lip, totally nervous. What the hell? Did I wear the wrong cheerleading ribbons? I’m almost at the table when the missing link arrives. He parks himself next to Marissa, grabs her hand—I’ll give her credit, she’s trying to hold back and not flaunt it—and chows down on his slice. Moron that he is, he’s oblivious to the girl stares around him.

“What?” asks Ethan. “Is there shizz on my face?”

Only nervous giggles, and I sit down next to Trina.

“Hey, Kate,” he says. “Long time. Have a good summer?”

I search his face. Nothing there but hungry boy. How can he act like that after … everything? I shiver, and the girls look at me with sympathy. They think I’m bummed because Marissa is dating my ex. If it were just that. Hell, she can have him. They can make shallow babies together.

I take a bite of my pizza and channel his mind-erasing powers. I move the last time he touched me out my head and replace it with me and Alex. Our first time by the creek. The stars above us. Him so gentle, not doing anything without asking me first.

“Yep. You?”

He goes on about football practice and laps and his best bud Chris. I nod and fake happy while everyone basks in this super Brady Bunch family we have, where everyone gets along. Trina pats my arm, like she knows I’m just putting on a brave front. Which I am, but not for the reasons she thinks.

Marissa glances at me a few times and I wonder if she’s scared I’ll spill about her and Mr. Stevens. Is there
still
a her and Mr. Stevens? That would make for some good gossip.

I eat more pizza and watch the happy couple, their fingers now laced tighter together.

“It’s meant to be,” whispers Trina.

I stare at her. “What?” Then I remind myself she doesn’t know. She’s just caught up in this new high school drama, just waiting for me to throw down with Marissa.

“You know,” she stammers. “It’s not like you haven’t found someone new, too.”

I smile wide. “You’re totally right.” And the real happy
starts coming back. It blocks out Marissa and her new molester
boyfriend. I take out my phone and text Alex:
Miss you.

A few second later he texts me back:
You too, Katie.

And that name doesn’t scare me. Especially not from him.

Alex

~
Philadelphia, PA
~

L
ook at you, working boy,” says my mom when she sees me in my pizza-delivery getup. “About time you found something to do with yourself.”

“Beats hanging around here.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” She looks me in the eye, challenging me, like a big
fuck you
.

Screw her. But I don’t say anything. She’s in one of her moods, and I’m not in the mood to shout. It’s easier dealing with her when she’s all doe-eyed, in her
poor me, why do my kids hate me
phase. Then I can say whatever and get her bawling and leave. “But I’ve changed,” she’d say. “Why can’t you just forgive the past?”

Maybe I should. But life here was crap. Her pimps coming in and out. Smacking the shit out of me when they felt like it. I tried fighting back, but then they’d try going after Kyle and he was so small back then, so I let them beat me harder so they wouldn’t get him. That’s why I tried to teach him to toughen up, be a man. This world blows and you don’t always want to be the one doing the blowing. Someone has to suck
your
dick once in a while.

Then, one day, it all stopped. Like, out of nowhere. She quit whatever shit she was doing on the side, got a job waitressing and stripping at a high-end place where bouncers made sure she stayed pretty. ’Cause, you know, who the hell is going to pay for a broken-down, beat-up stripper? She decided she was going to be Best Mom Ever. And it was like those years never happened. But I was thirteen already. I mean, Christ, how the hell am I supposed to just forgive? Forgive her telling me to “just take it easy” on the scum she brought home? Forgive her saying the smacks were my fault, that I should just learn to play nice because we needed the money? Fuck no.
Fuck no
.

“You getting home late?” I ask.

Right away she’s on the defensive. “Why? You got something to do?”

I don’t even know why I asked. Just making small talk. “No. I’ll be late too, so leave Kyle some cash for dinner.”

She snorts. “Can’t you at least bring home free pizza? It can be my reward for letting you ‘find yourself.’ ”

Whore. How the fuck am I ever supposed to leave this house if I don’t have money? “He wanted Mexican today.”

She curses, but leaves the cash.

“You’re the best mommy ever,” I say. “How did I get so lucky?”

“Watch your mouth, Alex.” She raises her hand like she did this summer.

I laugh. Great empty threat, bitch. “Too bad you’re done hooking, or you could ask one of your boys to do your dirty work,” I say.

She goes pale and mumbles, “Go fuck yourself.”

I should just keep quiet, but I don’t. Not like she’s going to throw my ass onto the street. She’d feel too guilty. “No thanks. I have people who do it for me. Kind of like you used to. You taught me well.”

Then I’m out.

“You’re late,” says Jasmine when I get to Tony’s Pies. She’s been in a pissy mood lately.

“I always make up for it. I can deliver more pies in an hour than most people here can in two.”

“Whatever.” That’s all she has, because she knows I’m right.

“What’s your deal, anyway? It’s like you’ve been on the rag since September.” I pick up the boxes waiting for me. They’re still hot. Obviously, me being a little late didn’t mess anything up. Jasmine is so full of shit.

“Like you’d even know,” she says.

“Know what?”

She throws up her hands. “If I’m ‘on the rag’ or not. You haven’t been down there since before your summer vacay.”

This. I should have expected it. “I’ve been working.”

“Duh. So have I. I’m the one who got you this stupid job.”

And when I said yes, fucking Jasmine was going to be one of the perks. But then summer happened.

She’s staring at me. “What gives? You settle down or something?” She can’t even finish that last question, she’s laughing so hard.

“You talk too much. Let me get out of here before the pizzas get cold.”

“Alex!”

I wave to her as I walk to the door. “If someone calls, tell them I’m on my way.”