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She hates my guts. She won’t forget the past. She knows exactly who I am, what I am.
Girl has brains. Always did. She won’t ever forgive me. I watched her at school, back then. Her future will be bright. A good student, with her cute nose always buried in books, an anger in her pretty eyes to match mine.
But whenever I see her, mine vanishes, fades, and something else warms me up inside, something I can’t understand.
If anger is what keeps my heart ticking, my body going, what will I be without it? What will become of me?
And why do I see in my mind her face whenever I ask myself that?
***
Lighting up a smoke in the street behind the diner, I gaze up at the darkening sky. Summer is good, warm and dry, allowing me to sleep outside, or sometimes at the garage. Come Winter, I’ll have to make other arrangements. Rent a room somewhere. If anyone is willing to take me in, and that’s a big fucking If.
Or go back to the house. Go home.
Ha. Yeah, whatever.
But it’s not come to that yet, and who cares about Winter? Nothing’s permanent. Nothing lasts. What’s the use of making plans when life will kick you in the balls tomorrow anyway?
Fucking pointless, is what it is. So I draw in smoke, close my eyes, and let the Summer breeze blow in my face. Peaceful. Small noises from the diner kitchen behind me, a crow cawing, a phone ringing. Normal evening sounds, and I can pretend for a little while that I’m part of this peace, of this town, of the lives unfolding inside quiet houses where parents prepare dinner and kids set the table and then they all eat and sit in front of the TV, talking and smiling.
Living.
It used to make me so damn angry. That others had that and I did not. Lots used to make me angry. Now it’s only... bittersweet. I never knew what that meant until I felt it. Nostalgic for something I’ve never had. Tired of wanting, and yet tired of searching.
Sad.
I’m thinking about that, lost in thought, until a familiar bark and whine has me opening my eyes. With my cigarette burning, smoke swirling into the night, I lock eyes with my mutt.
“Whatcha want, Buddy? How did you find me?”
Buddy looks at me soulfully and barks again. Doggy sure likes to follow me about. I feed him sometimes, so there’s that. Not stupid, this dog. It’s not like he sticks with me thanks to my winning personality. I buy his affection.
I flick away my cigarette and drop on one knee. “Come here. I got you something.” I pull out the dog chow bag. “Come here, have your dinner, but stop following me, you hear? Told ya, I can’t take you with me.”
That’s when they get the jump on me, goddamn Ed and his buddies, slamming the bag out of my hand, spraying the smelly pellets everywhere, sending Buddy yelping back. They slam me to the ground, and as they fall on me, I wonder if the reason Buddy came to find me here was to warn me.
That would make him my only friend in the entire goddamn world. Not that I believe it, and anyway, it’s too late.
Too late for me.
He whines and backs away as they drag me against the wall of the diner and laugh in my face, laugh at my jerk-knee attempts to shove them off me.
But what’s the use?
I try to let them do what they will. I tell myself I should. Try to switch off my brain, not let the anger come. It’s instinct, the way I react, that I fight back.
But then in my memory I hear her words, clear as bells. “You belong in a hole, where you crawled out of. You should crawl right back inside. Make the world a better place.”
There’s my reminder that I don’t have a right to be angry, to fight back. Embrace the pain, right? Take it.
But I can’t. Not that I have much choice with four against one...
Chapter Nine
Luna
I’ve stepped out for a coffee break, leaving Dena to deal with our few customers, only to find a brawl in the narrow stretch of the backstreet. I back into the diner, just inside the door, peeking around the jamb, blood thundering in my ears.
