Free Bystander by James Preller

easier, gave them a third thing, something outsideof themselves that they could share. Mary found an old tennis ball, hurled it across the field. Ginger took off like a rocket, proudly retrieving it. Just an animal, doing what came naturally. They played that game for a long while, Eric and Mary taking turns throwing the ball, Ginger tireless and impatient.
    A few times Mary’s cell phone sounded. She’d flip it open, read a text message, flip it closed.
    At a certain point she stopped talking.
    â€œYou’re frowning,” Eric noted. “Is something the matter?”
    Mary shook her head. But a moment later she pulled out her cell, punched a few buttons, and handed it to Eric. “Here, look at this.”
    There was a photograph of a girl’s thick body. She wore shorts and a midriff-baring shirt, with the head of a pig Photoshopped onto it. “Who’s this supposed to be?” Eric asked.
    â€œThat’s Chantel Williams, you know her?”
    â€œSort of, we’re in a couple of classes together.”
    â€œWell, everybody is really mad at her—”
    â€œEverybody?”
    â€œOkay, not everybody,” Mary replied, concedingthe point. “It’s mostly Chrissie and Alexis. They want me to come over, because they want to get her back.”
    Eric didn’t know Chantel well. She seemed okay. “What did she do?”
    â€œFlirted with the wrong guy, according to Alexis.” After a pause, Mary confessed, “I know, you don’t have to say anything. It’s all so stupid.”
    â€œWhat are they going to do?”
    Ginger dropped the ball at Eric’s feet, then plopped to the ground herself, exhausted. He picked the ball up and threw it. Ginger watched it sail through the air, but did not otherwise stir.
    â€œGo on, go get it!” Eric urged.
    Ginger rested her chin on the cool earth. She wasn’t going anywhere. The ball could stay lost forever.
    It was time to go. Eric reattached Ginger’s leash and gave a tug. He reminded Mary that she still hadn’t answered his question.
    Mary sighed, shrugged, rearranged a loose strand of hair. “Something mean,” she said, eyes narrowing. “They are talking about maybe some fake Web page. Alexis has a new iMac in her room. They want me to help. I’m good with computers.”
    â€œYou’ve done stuff like that before?”
    Mary looked away, nodded. “A little bit.”
    â€œSo are you going over there?”
    â€œNo, I’m sick of it,” Mary said with surprising conviction. “Girls are the worst. We can be so freaking mean.”
    Eric laughed. “Guys aren’t always so great, either, you know.”
    â€œYeah, but at least a guy will punch you in the face, you know what I mean? They do it and then it’s over. But with girls, we slice you up piece by piece. It’s like death by a thousand cuts.”
    Eric playfully pushed Ginger on the rump. He told the animal, “Good thing you’re a dog, Ginger. Life is simple. Eat, walk, poop, let somebody else pick it up. You don’t have to deal with any of this crap—not even your own.”
    They walked in silence for a while longer.
    â€œWant to get a slice of pizza at Mario’s?” Eric offered. “My treat.”
    They dropped Ginger off at the Martins’ house. Mary came inside, but waited by the door while Eric went into the kitchen to give Ginger a fresh bowl ofwater. Eric picked up an envelope with his name on it; two twenty-dollar bills were inside. “They go away a lot,” Eric explained. “But they, like, totally trust me. Really nice people.” He locked the house and put the spare keys in his pocket.
    â€œI feel sorry for Ginger,” Mary said. “It must be boring for her alone in that big, fancy house.”
    Then Mary said something that Eric couldn’t quite hear. “What?”
    â€œNothing,” Mary answered. “I was