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Found by the Rivers

Page 2

by liberty freer


  In a different life, maybe, I would have met them while swimming with friends. They’d offer to take us on a boat ride, and we’d happily agree to go with the two hot boys. We’d spend all day swimming and flirting. Maybe, I’d even end up dating one. Yeah, in a different life.

  I head towards town while I think of where to go. I need a private place and somewhere David won’t look. I pass Tate’s, the lumberyard, and the antique shop and then follow the main road. The bridge that leads out of town comes into view.

  This will do until I can find something better. I climb down the embankment and slowly make my way under the bridge. The ground is loose dirt, making it easy to slip. At least it’ll make for a soft place to sleep. I can pitch my tent near the concrete wall making it harder to see if someone happens to walk by.

  I move to a patch of grass by the river. I dig the lighter out my back pocket and then pull my last joint from my bra. If only I could smoke my worries away. I take a few hits and then stub it out, saving the rest for later. At the sound of a boat engine, I groan. There’s no way.

  “Well, what do ya know!” Andrew hollers over the roar of the engine.

  He’s by himself this time and parking the skiff at the edge of the river. I keep my ears open in case this in an ambush. It would be easy for someone to come from the bridge above. I’d be trapped. Andrew smiles as he hops out, landing on the rocky riverbank a few yards below me.

  “How you doing?” he asks as he approaches.

  I stand, slipping my hand into the pocket that holds my knife. “A little annoyed.” He needs to get moving. I can’t be looking over my shoulder for him and David. This already small town feels even smaller.

  “I went back to talk to you. You left your supplies at the sandbar.” He nods to the skiff. “I got ’em for ya.”

  I risk a glance at the skiff, and sure enough, I see my tent and what looks like my sleeping bag. I quickly move my eyes back to Andrew before he can try anything.

  “Sure. Thanks. You can leave them on the bank on your way out,” I say, telling him to leave without really saying it.

  Andrew rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, or you could come with me. We’re having a barbecue: hot dogs, burgers, chicken, corn on the cob.” He laughs. “I think your stomach just said yes.”

  My stomach’s usually empty. I’m used to it. I smile sweetly. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m in the middle of a fast right now,” I say, not meeting his eyes. “I’m sure you’ve read about the benefits of fasting.” I’m making it up. I overheard some customers talking about fasting. I have no idea what the benefits are. I’m sure Andrew doesn’t either.

  “It’s okay to need help.”

  I can feel my face turning red. My throat feels tight. “Hold on, boy scout. You don’t know a damn thing about me. You need to back off.” I hold my bag strap tightly as I scramble up the hill. My eyes water from the dust. Time to go blow off some steam.

  Chapter 2

  “Yo, Lena!”

  I roll my eyes. Ethan fucking Jones. He’s the last person I want to play ball with, but there he is at the court with Sean. Sean I can handle. I lift my chin. “Sup.”

  Ethan passes the ball to Sean and then jogs over to me. Ethan’s gray sweats hang low on his hips. His perfect physique is on display with his white muscle shirt. His chest is broad, his waist narrow. He isn’t even flexing, and all his muscles are on display. The black Nikes he’s rocking look brand-new. If this was anyone else, I’d be drooling.

  “See the new rims I got? Cost four grand.”

  I don’t know why anyone would waste money on tire coverings, and I have no idea how he always seems to have money. He doesn’t work. His brothers have money. Maybe, they toss him some. “How about that. New rims,” I say flatly, keeping my eyes on Sean as I walk past Ethan. Sean’s dressed similarly to Ethan except Sean has a little bit of a gut, probably from all the beer. Sean’s a future alcoholic. He’s cool though. I’ve been playing ball with him for years.

  “Hey, Sean.” I hold my hand up and then catch the ball as he passes it to me. I dribble it a few times before shooting it towards the net. It goes in with a swish. I catch it midair, the worn leather scratching the calluses on my palm as I wrap it in a circular motion around my waist. Putting spin on the ball, I toss it a few inches into the air and then catch it on my index finger.

  Now that we’re reacquainted, I let the ball drop to the court. I wipe away a trickle of sweat that threatens to obscure my vision. I use the tips of my fingers to dribble down the concrete court. I move with the ball. This is a dance.

  Moving quickly towards the right of the basket, making sure that I’m not directly under it, my left foot pushes off the ground. I’m in the air, the ball pulled into my chest and the basket to my left. With the ball cradled in my right hand, I extend my arm to prepare for the shot. My eyes are locked on the sweet spot. I rotate my wrist inward, giving the ball a little spin as I shoot. The ball goes in like I knew it would. It’s all muscle memory. I’ve done this a thousand times.

  “Damn, Lena. Nice layup. You’re always on fire. Must be the hair,” Sean says.

  I crack my neck. “Thanks.” I shoot him a smile before recapturing the ball.

  “Hey, Antonio’s on his way. Want to play a couple games?”

  At the mention of Antonio, my stomach flip-flops. I always get a little nervous around him. Not only is he hot, but he’s also a pretty chill person. I think he might like me too. He comes into Tate’s to buy a pack of gum every time I work. I have to force myself to keep our conversation short. Getting close to people means having to reveal my life, and that’s not happening. It’s the single life for me.

  “Of course, she does. Lena’s always down to play.”

  The way Ethan says play makes me think he’s talking about something sexual.

  He smiles down at me, his hands moving to land on my hips. “Aren’t you, sweetheart.”

  I smirk and move to the side. “I’m always down to play ball.” I toss Sean the ball. “Sean’s on my team.”

  “You sure you don’t want to be on my team, Lena? I think we’d fit together.” He lingers on the L in my name. I hate it. Hate that I’m constantly having to put him in his place; it’s tiring. If his brothers weren’t the Montgomerys, I would’ve punched him in the face a long time ago. I’m sure he knows it.

  He can get away with a lot of shit because the Montgomerys have a reputation for being ruthless. I don’t want to end up under their radar. Ethan has a different mother, who gave him her last name, but he still falls under his brother’s protection.

  Ethan and I watch Sean make a few shots. Ethan smiles at me. “Definitely not the same as watching you shoot.” He rubs his gaudy ring. It’s black and gold with a dragon at the center. He thinks it’s good luck. I think it looks dumb.

  “What up, bitches!” Antonio hollers as he jogs towards us, a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other.

  I let out a relieved breath, thankful that I don’t have to come up with a witty comeback to blow Ethan off. I watch Antonio’s eyes light up when he sees me. The shirt he’s wearing matches his basketball shorts, both red and black. The shirt sleeves have been cut out, letting both of his sides show. I know under that shirt he’s got a perfect six-pack. His shirt always ends up on the ground when he plays ball. I like that he gets into the game as much as I do.

  He tucks a piece of his shoulder-length, jet-black hair behind his ear. “Lena, didn’t know you’d be here today. Rarely see you anymore,” Antonio says, giving me a one arm hug.

  “Here for an unexpected game. Earlier plans fell through,” I say, looking up into light-brown eyes.

  “Hurry up with your smoke, cuz,” Sean says to Antonio.

  A loud clap of thunder has us all looking up. Gray clouds.

  “Looks like that storm’s coming this way,” Antonio says. “I don’t do lighting.” He throws his arm over my shoulders. “You want to come back to my place and chill?”

  Yes, I def
initely want to do that, I think, but say, “Nah, I’ve got some stuff I gotta do.”

  “Maybe another time then.”

  I watch him head back the way he came, to the apartment complex across the street.

  “Your cousin’s a pussy,” Ethan says with a grin.

  Sean shrugs. “He hates storms.”

  I look up at the gray clouds. They're rolling in fast, the sun still shining but not for long. I can't have everything in my bag getting wet. “I'm gonna check out too.” A gust of wind pushes my hair into my face. I quickly tie it into a loose ponytail.

  “Really?” Sean says. “Damn.”

  “Come on, beautiful. It’s just a little water.” Ethan’s eyes move to my chest.

  He’s getting to be more of a handful each time I see him. “Catch you guys later.” I don’t wait for either one to try talking me into staying, not like they could.

  I move quickly towards the trailer court. There’s usually a vacant one. Only a handful of the residents are lifers. The rest seem to stay just long enough for the law to catch up with them. I pass by rows of dilapidated trailers.

  My gaze lands on one that looks like a strong wind might knock it over. I slow my pace to take it in. The windows are bare, the lights off, and no sound comes from inside. I dart to the back as the first raindrop falls. The door’s unlocked, which either means the landlord forgot to lock it or someone else has stayed here recently.

  I quietly slip in, pulling the knife from my back pocket. I push a button on the handle, and a four-inch blade springs free. A quick but thorough inspection shows that I’m alone.

  The previous tenant left behind some furniture and a few boxes of their belongings. Good news for me; I won’t have to sleep on the floor and I might find something I can use. I make sure the doors and windows are locked tight before flopping down on the love seat in the living room. The springs dig into my back, but I’m too exhausted to care. I haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours. I let the sound of the storm soothe me to sleep.

  Chapter 3

  I arch my back and stretch. Even with these springs digging into my back, I slept like the dead. Only a small amount of moonlight is coming in from the bare windows, so I click my flashlight on. The kitchen counters are lined with empty beer cans and ashtrays full of cigarette butts. The cabinets are empty except for a couple packets of instant noodles. Even though they expired last year, I stick them in my bag. I dig through a pile of clothes next to the kitchen bar. Almost everything is stained and too worn to be useful.

  Giving up on that, I move to a medium-sized box next to the living room window. It looks like it's seen better days with a rip down the side that's been patched with tape. The top of the box is wide open, so I just have to shine my light into it. A little boy's face stares back at me.

  The glass picture frame is cracked where his mouth is, but I can tell he isn’t smiling. His features put him at around four or five, but those sad, blue eyes age him. This poor fucking kid. He’s been given a shitty start at life. I hope he has someone looking out for him. I sit back, pushing the box away from me.

  It wasn't long ago when I was bouncing around with my parents. Thank fuck that my dad inherited his mother’s house. It’s the only reason we stopped moving every few months. My stomach flip-flops. I don't want to be in this broken home anymore. It brings up too many unwanted memories.

  I slip out the back door as the sun comes up. Staying in the trailer was a temporary fix. I’ll need to find a place to camp.

  “Lena!”

  I blow out a breath and slowly turn around. “What’s up, Alex?” I take in his wrinkled clothes and the dark circles under his eyes. “Another late night?”

  He grins. “Yeah. Bobby and Jeff got a pound of green.” He pulls a joint from his back pocket. “Got an extra one if you want it? This one's on me.”

  I smile. Of course, I want it. I pull a five-dollar bill from my bag. “Sure, but I’m paying this time.” I give him the five and then pluck the joint from between his fingers. “Thanks. I’ll catch you later. You should get some sleep. You look like shit.” I smile as I tuck the joint into the front pocket of my bag.

  “You weren’t coming from my place, huh?” He looks past me to his trailer at the end of the street.

  “An abandoned one, two rows over from yours.”

  “Find anything good?”

  “Nope. Just junk.”

  Alex’s eyes run over me. “I know you don’t like to…” He sighs. “If you need a place—”

  “I know, Alex. I’m good,” I say, cutting him off. We have an understanding and he was about to violate it. He wants to help me just like I’d like to help him. Reality is, we can’t do jack shit, so there is no point in bringing up things we can’t change.

  “You said you had an aunt in Texas. Maybe you could—”

  I shake my head in aggravation. “It wouldn’t work.” I don’t tell him that my mom has made it perfectly clear her family wants nothing to do with me. They don’t want anything to do with her either though.

  “David came by last night to pick up Roy. They were heading to the bar or something.” Alex’s eyes move to my jaw, which I’m sure is sporting a nasty bruise. “Anyways, David was looking for you. He’s pissed. You might want to avoid home for a few days. Let him cool down.”

  I chew on my thumbnail. Well, what’s left of it. When our stepdads hang out, they lean towards the harder drugs. Those always put David in a foul mood. “Yeah, I’ve got it covered. Thanks for the heads-up.”

  “Where you headed? We could hang.”

  “Tate’s. Working for Patty,” I lie. I don’t need him worrying about me. He’s got enough shit to deal with at home. “I better get going. Don’t want to be late.”

  Alex lights a cigarette. “Yeah. See ya later.”

  ≈≈≈

  A flash of blue and a gust of wind has me stumbling to the right. The side mirror came inches away from clipping me.

  “Share the road, asshole!” I shout. My eyes widen at the sight of brake lights. The Jeep comes to a screeching halt causing black marks to stain the road. I roll my shoulders and crack my neck as both the passenger’s and driver’s doors open. Two men, early twenties. The passenger leans against the rear of the Jeep and flashes me a mischievous smile as his buddy walks towards me.

  “What did you say to me?” the driver says as he continues in my direction.

  I should tell him that I didn’t say anything, but I have my wires crossed. I feel like I’m always angry and on edge nowadays. “I told you to slow the fuck down,” I say slowly like he’s an idiot. “You almost hit me.” I’m being stupid and reckless, I think. Yet, here I am standing my ground with my chin held high.

  He stops inches away from me. I wait for him to make the first move. This could go a couple different ways. I take in the name brand khaki shorts and wrinkle-free, blue button-down dress shirt he’s wearing. His hair is short, blond, and styled to the side. He’s attractive, and I bet he’s used to getting his way.

  He tilts his head, nostrils flaring. I keep eye contact, not showing fear even knowing I could be reading him wrong. I think he’s full of shit. He thinks he can intimidate me into running.

  He looks over his shoulder and smirks. “We have a brave one here.”

  His friend laughs nervously.

  Blondie’s eyes narrow with curiosity as he stares at my face. “Damn, your eyes. That’s hot.” He pauses for a minute, his eyes trailing over my body and then lingering on my chest.

  Oh, so he’s going this route now. I roll my eyes. “Listen, why don’t you run back to your buddy over there. We both know you want to.”

  “Or you could come for a ride with us.” He wags his brows.

  I don’t flinch as he runs his fingers down my cheek. That’s what I was waiting on. He touched me first. My dad wasn’t one to buy me toys when I was a child. He thought his money was better spent on self-defense training. It was a long time ago, but I still remember the basics.
/>   The memory of my dad threatens to fuck with my head, and now isn’t the time. I push the feelings of abandonment away and focus on the douchebag in front of me. I look to his left with a gasp and wide eyes. The small distraction works, and when he turns his head, my hands find his shoulders. I push down and then ram my knee into his crotch with as much force as I can. He lets out a curse, dropping to his knees. His buddy looks shocked but hesitates to move from the spot at the back of the Jeep.

  “Fucking bitch,” Blondie croaks, trying to stand.

  “I didn’t say you could touch me,” I grind out.

  A car comes down the road but slows down and then stops. That’s my cue.

  I dart into the cornfield. My body’s humming with adrenaline as I run straight ahead, trying to keep my balance on uneven ground. All sense of direction is soon lost. It’s just me and a sea of corn.

  When my lungs begin to burn, I opt to walk. I shuck an ear. The sweet crunch is delicious and helps to settle my stomach. I shove a few ears into my bag for later. The soft scent of mud and moisture replaces dusty soil. That can only mean one thing. The tall stalks of corn block my view, but the change in temperature and smell tells me I'm close to water. A wide smile breaks free as I come to the edge of the cornfield. A few yards away, the tree line goes in either direction for miles.

  I might have just found my next place to camp. I’ll be sleeping under the stars until I get paid and can get to the next town over to buy another tent. I move through the woods until the river, fifty feet below, comes into view. The water level is lower than normal due to a drought. Even though it’s low, it’s not possible to see the riverbed since the water’s a murky brown.

  “Who the fuck are you?” a deep voice says as a hand lands on my shoulder and clamps down.

  I spin around. It takes a few seconds for my brain to register that this isn’t David even though they both have black hair and eyes. That’s where the similarity ends. This guy is young, about my age, with bronze skin and a pointed nose. His hair is slicked back, giving him a mobster look. I quickly scan the area. It's just him and me out here in the middle of nowhere. I’m not sure how I feel about that.

 

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