say.
Donât be such a freak, she says.
Okay, I say.
You need a haircut.
I do?
Yeah, Blacky. And brush your teeth, you have dickbreath.
Okay.
You know how to check your breath, donât you?
No, I say.
Then she shows me.
She cups her hands in front of her mouth and breathes.
I do it too.
My breath does smell and it makes me feel slow and stupid.
Iâll use gum from now on, I promise myself.
Shay lights a cigarette. She smokes Kools cause these are the cigarettes that her friend Betty steals from her mom.
There are three Airwick air fresheners set on Shayâs desk. She is always careful to blow the smoke into one of these. One of them is supposed to smell like lemons but it smells more like dirty dishes.
I tried to smoke one of her Kools once but I couldnât get it to go in my lungs. I wound up choking and crying.
The song is over and the next one comes on.
Where were you last night? I ask.
I was in Romeoville, she says. Why?
I say, Cause I came in here and you were gone.
We donât say anything for a second. She just smokes and acts bored.
I say, What were you doing in Romeoville?
She says, Barn party, and leaves it at that.
Are you gonna be here tonight? I ask.
She says, Iâm goin to Rockdale with Betty and Flahive.
Flahive is this guy who sells guns and fireworks. Roman candles are five bucks.
Five bucks for a Roman candle, heâll say to me sometimes. You got five bucks?
Heâs much older than most of the kids he hangs out with. He wears an army jacket and drives a Kawasaki motorcycle. Itâs black with lots of red trim. The gas tank has FLAHIVE on it. Itâs written in cursive and I imagine this must have cost lots of money.
He has a tattoo of five tally marks on the side of his neck. Shay says that this is the number of years he spent in Joliet Correctional for dealing cocaine.
Once when I answered the front door he didnât have a shirt on. I looked for other tattoos but there werenât any. When he walked by me he flicked me in the Adamâs apple and I barked like a dog.
Youâre never home anymore, I tell Shay.
Blacky, if you get scared just go into Maâs room.
I canât, I say.
Yes, you can. Just take your blanket and sleep on the floor.
I say, I think sheâs mad at me.
Oh, everyoneâs mad at everybody, Shay says. Weâre all mad.
Cheedleâs not mad, I say.
But Cheedleâs not normal, she says.
Shay is so pretty it makes me uncomfortable. She tries to hide it by smearing black makeup around her eyes. But I know this is just a disguise.
Whatâs in Rockdale? I ask.
None of your beeswax.
Drugs? I say.
Maybe.
I say, Youâre gonna get hepatitis again.
She says, No, I ainât.
Ma will put you back in Open Grove.
No, she wonât, Shay says. We donât even have the money.
Shay is wearing this sweatsuit that she stole from the mall. Itâs dark blue with white stripes. When you drag your fingernail on it the material makes this noise like records getting scratched in a rap song.
I say, Can I do some with you sometime?
Some what? she asks.
Drugs.
No way, Creepo.
Why not?
Cause most of the time they suck and besides theyâre so bad for you.
I say, You do them.
Thatâs cause Iâm a burnt-out slut.
I know she is kidding but when she uses the word slut it feels like getting punched in the stomach.
Is Ma still talkin to that lady? Shay asks.
Yes, I say.
Do you know if sheâs workin tonight?
I donât know, I say. I think so. Sheâs still wearing the same thing she had on yesterday. She seems pretty worn out.
Arenât we all, Shay says.
Then she smokes some more and blows into the Airwick lemon air freshener.
I say, If I come in here tonight and youâre gone can I sleep in your bed anyways?
Yeah, she says, sure. Just donât piss in it.
Then she gives me a titty twister.
Shay has a particular talent for titty twisters.
I break free and rub my