by Anne Key
“’Kay.” No way. Needle first. Then ice.
“You don’t touch that, girl, you hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She heads out, and the door doesn’t even stop swinging before Kaylee and Shaundra burst in. “Charley!”
“Girl, you scared us!” Shaundra stands by the foot of the bed, dark hand wrapped around the ball of my foot. My shoes. Where did they put my shoes?
“My bestie! OMG. I just…. You collapsed, and I thought you were gonna die!” Kaylee bursts into tears, and Shaundra’s eyes roll as Kaylee ramps up into a full-blown drama.
“She’s a little uptight, you know.”
“Yeah. I know.” Still, she’s here. She’s always there when I need her.
“Stop it. My best friend almost died!” Kaylee swats Shaundra on the butt and then crawls into bed with me, pushes close, holding me against her. “We were all so scared. So fucking scared! I let all our friends know. Tomorrow you are totally getting snuggled.”
“You’re snuggling her now,” Shaundra points out.
“She’s in the hospital. You’re not going to get to be our black girlfriend if you don’t stop.”
“I’ll be home by tomorrow, right?” Surely I don’t have to be here overnight, right? My mom would stay if I did?
“If you have to stay, I’ll spend the night. I promise.” Kaylee lies right there, holding my hand, fingers stroking my skin, and she smells good. Kaylee always smells so good—I’ve tried her perfume, her shampoo, even washed with her soap a hundred times, and it doesn’t work. She smells only like her. I wonder if I smell good to her. “I was so scared when you passed out and didn’t wake up. You have to be okay so we can go to UT together, share a room. I’ll write your papers, and you can take my math classes for me.”
“Y’all….” Shaundra sits down with a huge flourish, her extensions flapping and clapping against her neck. “Ain’t nobody going to die.”
Shaundra cracks me up. She and Jeri and a couple other girls formed a club called the MBGs back when we were kids.
MBGs. We can’t remember what the name stands for anymore. Shaundra says Mighty Big Girls, Jeri says Mega Bomb Girls.
I still think it was for Mean Bitchy Girls, but none of us were allowed to cuss, so we’ve forgotten.
“She might have!” Kaylee’s eyes snap across the room, and I swear to God I can hear the click of her fake eyelashes. Have I mentioned that Kaylee was not allowed to be in the MBGs? “She could have bled to death sitting in that goddamn waiting room!”
“Don’t. Please.” I’m gonna hurl. I swear to God. Bled to death? Is that even a thing if you weren’t bleeding bad?
The door opens again, like clockwork. “Girls, why don’t you let Charley rest? Her mom is coming in with something to drink.”
“Is she gonna get to go home?”
“Probably, yes. If you want to sit in the waiting area….” The nurse, who seems weirdly familiar and who obviously totally recognizes Kaylee, arches her eyebrows. “Like now, Kaylee.”
“Okaaaay.” Kaylee sits up, kissing my cheek, and it almost touches my mouth. Almost. “I’ll be right outside, huh?”
Shaundra stands up. “I won’t. I got to get home. I’m still in summer school, and if I don’t pass Algebra II, my mom’s going to kill me.”
“If you need help….” I’ll be home, after all.
“Yeah? Cool. I’ll bring those onion rings you like from Popeyes.” She gives me a huge grin. “I’ll text you. You’re the best, Char.” Those braids click again, and they sound so heavy. I bet her head hurts all the time.
Like constantly.
They leave, and the nurse pushes this button and checks this dial and turns off one of the weird alarms that I didn’t even hear until it goes silent and somehow I’m alone and it’s not as scary as I thought and maybe—maybe I can just close my eyes a little bit.
Just for a minute.
Just….
“I brought you some ice. Open up.”
Man, no wonder everybody’s sick in the hospital. No one gets to sleep. Ever.
“Thanks, Momma.”
The ice slides in, slips down my throat, and it feels so good.
“More.”
“Yep. The whole glass, if you want. You can come home as soon as you feel like you can get up, walk, go pee.”
I’m going to have to drink more than this, if I’m gonna pee.
“What happens next? After home?”
“You take pain pills and eat Doritos for a couple of days, then see Dr. Finch in a week to look at the stitches. Then we talk to Coach Tiber about rehab. He should be able to help.”
“Okay. Rehab. Okay.” Rehab. That means it’s bad, huh? Really bad. I look over, and man, my arm’s all wrapped up, held in this weird brace deal, and it smells. It really stinks.
Oh God.
“Charley?”
She touches me, and I pull away, gagging. “Don’t touch me. Don’t. I just… I don’t feel so good.”
“Oh, man. Let me grab a trash can, or you got that puke deal.” Momma runs and I retch and then there are nurses and shots and I can’t cope with this. I hurt and I’m scared and I….
Something happens, and suddenly the whole world goes fuzzy around the edges. Oh.
Oh, better.
“Momma?”
“Right here. Better?”
“Uh-huh.” So much. So, so much.
“They’re going to get you a room, keep you overnight. You’re having a wee reaction to the meds, huh? They don’t want you tearing your stitches.”
“Stay? Can you?” Please? I know I’m almost grown, but… I’m scared. Like for real. I’m not ready to be on my own, not yet. No matter what me and Kaylee tell ourselves.
Mom’s eyes crinkle at the edges, and she rolls them. “Oh, baby. Sure. Ben’s going to stay with Amy. I’ll have to run home and change into something more comfortable, but I’ll be back.”
“I’m sorry. I really am, so sorry.”
“And I told you, hush. You’re drugged.”
“Yeah.” It’s usually cooler to be high. I mean, I don’t do the stuff that gets you in trouble-trouble, but I’ve had a couple of beers, snuck some vodka in a Sprite Slurpee.
I even tried cigarettes, but, damn. I’d rather vape, any day. Those come in yummy flavors, at least.
Kaylee says she’s smoked weed, but I’d like to know when. We’re always together.
“Honey, are you listening?”
I blink, confused as hell. “Huh?”
“I’m going to go change. Kaylee can meet you in your room for the night, and then I’ll be there. Okay?”
“Okay. Sure. Did you know that Kaylee got her uniform? She’s going to look amazing in it. Not like I would. I’d look like a stick.”
“Baby, if you told me you were trying out for the cheer squad, I’d have to have your head examined. You’re my softball girl. You’re tough as nails.” Momma laughs, and I swear to God, y’all, I can see the sound. I can see it. It looks like cartoon butterflies, flittering around everywhere, yellow and pink and Kermit-the-Frog green.
“I love pitching.”
“I know, Charley. Close your eyes and rest your baby head. Miss Kaylee says she’ll meet you upstairs. I’ll be back before you know it. I’ll bring you a strawberry milk shake even.”
“Spoil me.”
“Always.”
She gets up and waves, and I do close my eyes, because I just have to. I’m tired down to the bone. I dream—maybe it’s just imagining, but it feels like a dream, it’s Technicolor and bright and comes with sound—about Kaylee cheering for me, though. Not like from the stands, but with the squad, jumping and calling my name, smiling at me and shaking her white and red pom-poms while I pitch a no-hitter in Austin. Smiling like this is the coolest moment ever.
Smiling.
At me.
Chapter3
“I WANT you to come stay at my house, huh? Daddy knows all about this stuff.” Kaylee and I h
aven’t spent a single second apart since the hospital. It’s been three days and the stitches itch and the sore is making me like uber-super bitch.
Thank God, Kaylee gets it.
We’re in my bedroom—it’s only big enough for my bed and a TV, but there’s a door, which is better than Amy’s room. The trailer is set up with my bedroom by the front room, the front door. Ben is down the hall across from the bathroom, and Momma’s got the room at the far end so the big TV doesn’t bother her. Poor Amy, though, she’s sorta got this wide spot that was supposed to be somewhere you put plants or something, ’cause she doesn’t need privacy yet. It’s not like a shitty trailer or nothing—it’s on a slab and everything, and the park is pretty cool.
I wish we were a little closer to town, but it is what it is.
Besides, Momma lets me alone in here. I keep it clean, because I fucking hate mice, and I have my own DVR and everything.
Vampire Diaries on demand, baby.
“I have to watch Amy.” God, I want to head to Kaylee’s. There’s always Coke, she’s got a queen-sized bed, and Kaylee’s grandma is always there, knitting and making these weird cookies and passing out twenties. I want to just go over there and sleep, but I know Momma will shit a pink Twinkie if I ask. Amy goes to stay with her dad in Las Vegas in a week. Then I’ll be on my own, and I can spend six weeks at Kaylee’s, but until then….
“Watch her do what? She mows lawns and watches TV and eats cereal.”
“Yeah, but you know how it is. She’s eleven. I gotta.” Don’t push.
“Yeah, I know. You jealous that she’s going to Vegas?”
“No.” No, Dave had been an asshole from the time Momma married him, all bluster and bullshit, and I’d never been so glad to see the shitty motherfucker leave. He saw Amy twice a year—Christmas and summer—and Amy cried every time she left.
“No? I hear it’s so cool there.”
“Amy says it’s real hot and boring. Just desert. Nothing to do.”
“Huh. Sometimes I wish my folks were split up, so I could not deal with them together.” She looks up at me, twists her lips, and makes a face. “Guess that makes me like a bitch, huh?”
“How the fuck would I know?” Like I have a dad. My dad died when I was a baby, flipped his semi. I try to shrug, but it hurts, so bad. “Ow! Jesus! Don’t make me move!”
“Snarky-poo!”
“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” But it’s a sore spot—less missing my dad, because I don’t—it’s like knowing I don’t makes me a shitty person or something.
“My dad likes you better than he likes me anyway. You’re like the son he never had.”
“Hey!” Now that’s low. Boys suck.
“What? You play sports. You like burgers. You… well, okay, that’s it, but still.”
“Just because I’m not a short-skirt-wearing sex kitten….” It’s mostly a tease. Mostly.
“You wish you had an ass like mine.” Kaylee rolls over on the bed and wiggles her heinie.
“Look at you, Miley.”
It is a nice butt, though. Way rounder than mine.
“Hey! I’m totally classier than her. Did you see her coochie in those gold shorts? I was like, dude! Camel toe!”
Of course I saw. I was right there watching with Kaylee. Dork. “I know, right? Totally uncool.”
Uncool. A little disturbing. I didn’t know where to look. I have it on my phone, that video, and I watch it sometimes. Over and over.
“Yeah. I can’t imagine wearing that. You’d have to shave all down there.”
“Are you going to have to get a Brazilian? I mean, for the cheerleaders?”
Kaylee’s lip curls, and she nods, sighs. “Yeah. We’re all going together. Like a thing. A bonding thing.”
Wait. Everyone’s going to get hot wax poured on their privates together as a bonding thing? “For real?”
“Yeah. There’s like a lady who does it.”
“Is she going to look at you? I mean, her face is going to be down there….” I’ve shaved my legs and, okay, I put my bathing suit on and make sure nothing’s peeking, but tugging all the hair out?
Ow.
“I know. It’s fucking creepy.” She rolls over on her back, shakes her head. “Can you imagine? Doing that for a living?”
“No. What if someone poots?” How do you not look? What if someone’s on their period? What if they’re gross?
“Oh, nasty.”
“Yes. Yes, exactly. I was just thinking that.”
“Still, I got no choice. All the squad is going. It’s a thing. I wish you could go, but….”
“Yeah.” Thank God. No way I’m letting someone pull out my hairs down there. I don’t even pluck my eyebrows.
“There’s going to be a big party right before school starts.”
“Yeah, you’ll end up with marker on your face and everyone texting the pics all over.” I’ve seen what happens at the cheer-squad initiations.
At least playing ball, you just….
Well, you don’t anything. We don’t hang out. We just play softball.
“It’s a tradition, and there’s gonna be booze.”
“Do they ever give you shit about me?”
Kaylee all of the sudden won’t look at me. “Huh?”
“I mean, because I’m into softball.” Because I’m different.
“It would be easier if you were in drill team or something, but why should they care? You’re a girl.” She sits up, bounces on the bed like she’s had another of her famous ideas. “Hey, I know. Let me wash your hair?”
“What?” My hair? Why?
“You can’t take a good shower yet, right? I’ll wash your hair, straighten it. It’ll be fun. We’ll play beauty parlor. I have my bag in my car.”
“Okay. Okay, I guess. You can’t get me all wet, though. Or the floor. Mom will lose her shit.”
“We’ll do it in the sink with the sprayer. Come on.”
God, why is it so hard to tell her no?
Probably because I don’t want to.
I get to the edge of the bed and stand, arm stuck up in this weird thing. I want it off like whoa.
Like now.
“How long ’til you can drive?”
“Probably about the time school starts.”
“So you can come to my football games, huh?”
“Because no one else’ll be there….” The TV is on, and Amy is watching SpongeBob. Again. “God, I hate that show. His voice.”
“He lives in a pineapple….” Amy starts, and I swear to God that if I could pitch, I’d hit her with a pillow so hard.
“Dipwad.” I don’t know if Kaylee is talking to me or Amy, but it doesn’t matter.
Amy comes wandering into the kitchen, chewing on her hair. “Whatcha doin’?”
“Kaylee’s going to help me wash my hair. It’s gross.”
“Oh. Can I help?”
I’m going to say no, but Kaylee nods. “Get me the shampoo and the conditioner. Oh, and that green comb.”
“Okay. Okay, cool.”
Amy bounces off, and I roll my eyes. I mean, she’s not a bad kid. She’s not close like me and Ben or anything, but she’s okay. It’s not her fault her dad is a fuckmonkey.
“She’s not going to look like you and Ben, huh? I mean, not at all.”
“She looks like her dad.” She’s going to be tall, and she’s already wearing a bigger cup size than me. Mom says she’s going to start her period soon.
“Yeah. I don’t really remember him.” Kaylee grabs a kitchen chair and pulls it over to the sink.
“We were only school friends then. No sleepovers.”
“Not until we were ten. My house. Happy-face pancakes for breakfast.”
Oh God, I remember that. I had been so scared I played on her PlayStation all night so there was a light.
The next time I spent the night there, Kaylee had a nightlight in her closet. A Shrek one.
“And your folks made chicken-fried steak for dinner. Your dad m
akes the best mashed potatoes.”
Kaylee nods and pats her ass. “God, don’t I know it.”
“You’re not fat.”
“That’s not what Ainsley says.”
“Ainsley’s a stuck-up whore.”
“Sister!” Amy comes back, cackling, almost losing the shampoo.
“What? It’s the truth! Kaylee isn’t fat, and no one should be saying that about my bestie!” I’m sick and tired of the girls on the cheerleading squad giving Kaylee shit. She’s tried out for the varsity squad twice, and only made it this time. I worry…. Well, Mom says that’s just sour grapes, so I won’t think about why, but I still worry.
“Shut up. Sit in the chair.” Christ, Kaylee is in boss-mode.
“Is that going to work?” It looks real low.
“Hmm. Amy. Pillows. Lots of pillows.”
“I’m on it.”
The bottles land on the table with a clatter, and I reach out to grab one and oh.
Oh God.
Oh, God that hurts.
“No grabbing. Shit. You okay?” Kaylee gets right up in my face, eyes great big. “You okay?”
“I—”
“Sit. Sit in the chair. Sit in the chair. Shit.” She pushes me down, and I feel like I’m gonna hurl. “I’ll get you a drink. Sprite? Yeah. Sprite.”
“Uh-huh. Please. Is it bleeding?”
“You want me to lift the bandage?”
I shake my head, nod, shake my head.
“What’s wrong?” Amy’s eyes are big as saucers, and she sounds scared.
“Your sister moved.”
“Sister!” Amy’s voice is so loud. “You’re not supposed to move!”
“I know.” I got it. I’ll never do it again, I swear to God.
“Don’t be a weenie. Is there Sprite?” Kaylee digs around in the fridge. “Ice? Something?”
“Uh-huh. There’s cans in the vegetable drawer.” Amy shoves her out of the way. “You’re worthless as tits on a bear dog.”
“Boar hog?” A bear dog? Christ.
“A bored dog?” Amy asks.
I shake my head. “Hog, like a pig.”
“Do pigs not have boobs?” Amy asks, handing out three Sprites.
“Not boy pigs, which are called boars, right?”
Kaylee looks at me, pops my Coke open. “How the fuck should I know? Do I look like a pig farmer? Do I look like someone that would even know a pig farmer?”