Free Jumping Off Swings by Jo Knowles

Dave tries to get between Caleb and Kyle. It all happens in, like, three seconds and I don’t even think. I shove myself in front of Kyle so Dave can drag Caleb out of range.
    “You little fucker! You really are stupid,” Kyle hisses at him. He spits a mouthful of blood on the floor.
    Caleb looks at all of us, bright red blood already oozing out of the side of his mouth, then he grabs his bag and leaves.
    “What the hell’s going on?” I run out into the cold after him. “Cay! Wait up!”
    “Not here,” Caleb yells into the air without turning around.
    “Hey!” I catch up with him and grab his shoulder, flinging him around to face me. He gives me this look. Not the crazed, mad look he gave Kyle and that I expected, but a look of pity. Like I am the most pitiful bastard in the world.
    “What’s going on?”
I yell. But I think I know. I think I knew as soon as Kyle started talking, but I just didn’t want to believe it.
    He shakes his head.
    “Say it.”
    He waits, like they are the hardest words to say and he has to use all his strength to get them out.
    “It’s you.”
    My stomach tightens. I have to swallow hard to keep from puking.
    The wind whips at our faces as we stare at each other. His mouth is already swelling up. It must hurt like hell, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He turns away from me and starts walking.
    When we get to his beat-up Corolla, we both climb in and head for his house. We don’t crank the heat or turn on the radio. We don’t say a word. I look out the passenger window and watch the outskirts of our pathetic town pass by me. My dad’s stupid body shop, the diner, the run-down gas station, some abandoned buildings. It’s all so ugly. Even covered with snow, it’s ugly.
    I think I’m gonna be sick.
    I bend forward and put my face in my hands, pushing my forehead against the dashboard.
    This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening.
    I keep saying it to myself until the words run together and don’t make any sense. It makes me dizzy, and I lift my head and watch the still-ugly town go by.
    “Shit!” I yell, breaking up the cold quiet of the car.
    Caleb doesn’t flinch.
    “Fuck!” I smash my fist down on the armrest. The thing jiggles like it’s about to break. I pound it again, and one side slides down.
    Caleb turns the car onto the road that leads to our neighborhood — past the park and to his house. When he pulls into the driveway, he cuts the motor and leans back into his seat.
    “What do you know?” I ask. My breath floats out in front of me and fogs up the window.
    “Not much. Corinne told me.”
    “How does she know it’s mine?”
    “Don’t.”
    “What?”
    “Don’t be an asshole now, Josh. Not on top of everything else.”
    “What the hell? It’s not like I’m the only one she did it with.”
    “Yeah well, you’re the only one who couldn’t keep your condom on, OK? You’re the last guy she was with.”
    He looks out his window, turning his face from me. Like I’m so disgusting he can’t even look at me. There’s blood down the front of his T-shirt, and he’s shivering without his coat.
    “OK,” I say. “Sorry. But in case you didn’t notice, this is serious shit. I just want to be sure this is really my problem.”
    “It is,” he says quietly. Like he doesn’t want it to be true, either.
    “What’s she gonna do?” I ask.
    “Get rid of it. What else?”
    His words hang there, fogging up his side of the car.
    Get rid of it.
    I close my eyes and try to breathe. I rock back and forth, like my body’s nodding,
Yes, it’s true.
But I’m shaking my head at the same time. I feel her soft, warm body under mine, her quiet breath in my ear as I pushed inside her. She made a noise, and I hoped it meant she wanted me to be doing what I was doing, but, oh God, I didn’t care — she felt so good, and then I was moving so fast and then it was over in two seconds and I know the condom fell off but I thought it happened when I was pulling out,