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“You happened to me.”
Come on, Liddy.” He said. “I’d never hurt you on purpose and you know it.”
I shrugged. “I fell while I was chasing you.”
I didn’t know that you fell, Liddy. If I did, I would have…”
“You would have what?”
“I would have turned around and helped you. I’m really, really sorry about your painting. I didn’t mean to rip it.”
Kid’s eyes were sad, and his shoulder slumped in a way that I had never seen before. And while that sorry didn’t excuse all the other rotten things that Kid had done to me, I believed that he meant it. We sat next to each other in a silence only broken by the punctuated sound of Aunt Betty giving hell to Deke Harding.
“Hey, I think I can find a way to get it fixed.” Kid jumped down from the table with what appeared to be an exciting epiphany.
“Fix what?” I was still pondering Kid’s genuine and heartfelt apology.
“Your blue ribbon painting.”
“Don’t mess with me, Kid.” I warned him. “Nobody can fix that. It’s a goner.”
“I’m not messing with you, Liddy.” He paced in front of me. “My dad’s got guys who can do all kinds of stuff. Some of ‘em even went to jail ‘cause of it.”
“I bet none of them ever fixed a ripped picture that won a place in the Liberty Museum Art Show.” I looked disconsolately over at the painting crumbled and ripped in half on the table and my eyes filled with tears again.
“Don’t cry, Liddy.” Kid looked as miserable as I did.
“It’s okay.” I heaved and blew my nose. Then I said pitifully, “bound to happen anyway.”
“What do you mean?” Kid edge closer to me.
“I knew it was too good to be true. I should have known no picture of mine would ever be in that art show.”
“Why not?”
“Things like that don’t happen to girls like me.”
“What does that mean?” Now Kid was standing real close. He was still cradling his bitten hand with his good one, but his shoulder leaned against mine.
I felt my face flush a deep crimson red, but I left his shoulder where it was. I had never said the words I was about to say to anyone, and now I was going to spill them to the boy who had just ruined my life. But really, I figured I had nothing left to lose.
“Dumb.” My voice shook with humiliation. “I’m as dumb as a box of rocks.”
“Are not.”
“Am too, and everybody knows it. I’m always the slowest in math and that’s my good subject. I can still hardly read. I know the kids laugh about me behind my back.” I said miserably. “And you know it too.”
Kid considered this for a minute, then he answered honestly. “I ain’t gonna blow any smoke up your ass.”
“I appreciate that.” I sniffed.
“Well, maybe some of them do laugh, but so what?” Kid shifted on his feet. “Who cares about them? Besides my dad told me it’s not what they call you, it’s what you answer to that counts.”
I looked deep into Kid Harding’s eyes then, and I knew he meant that nice thing he had just said.
“If you want, I can wash the blood off and put some medicine on the place where I bit you.” I shrugged.
“That’d be okay, I guess.” He had looked at me warily. “But are you still mad?”
