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Simone softened. She had drawn
my name for our gift exchange.
Hope you like what I got you.
This was after a fabulous
beans-and-hot-dogs dinner.
We were in our fart-fragranced
bedroom, listening to the radio.
Simone is a huge hip-hop fan.
Can’t stand the stuff myself,
but I wasn’t going to argue.
All I could think about was Kyle
and how to escape the house
to meet him the next day.
Out of the blue, Simone
decided to open up. You want
to hear about my brother?
The creepy voyeur in me did.
But I kept my mouth closed.
Simone started to talk, anyway.
He was really my stepbrother,
and it started when I was eight….
It wasn’t a pretty story, but
I couldn’t not listen to the sordid
details of late-night visits.
Bad touch. Very bad touch.
Threats to keep her quiet.
And when it all became too
much and she told, anyway,
her stepmother called her
a liar. And her father, who
