Pieces of Us by Margie Gelbwasser

them. I told myself it didn’t matter. When she kissed him back, letting his hands roam over her like only his eyes did in our kitchen, I pretended it didn’t hurt.
    I kept waiting for her to say something or act differently around me. She didn’t. It was as if nothing happened. Maybe to Katie, it was nothing. I mean, it was just another boy. Kisses came easy for her. So I stopped “overreacting,” as my mom said. And kept telling myself he was never mine.
    “Yulya, let’s go!” Katie now calls from outside.
    I glance at the mirror again and pat the cardigan like it’s magic. A speck of gold glitter falls into my hand. I pocket it and run out the door.

Kyle
     
    Y ou could escape in video games for days. So when Alex asks you to come to Wild West City with him, Katie, and Julie, it’s a no-brainer. You know Alex really wants a double date or double fuck or whatever he’s thinking, but you pretend you don’t get that part. You never did ask her out like you told him you would.
    But Wild West City will be a good, neutral spot either way. When you and Julie were kids, the two of you took pictures there. The kind where you put your head on top of a cowboy or cowgirl body. Maybe you can do this again with her. Just have fun like you used to, before her hands began creating detailed plans to touch yours.
    By the time you get to the car, you’re feeling excited. You’re going to show the pinball machines who’s boss. Maybe even win something for Julie, like the good friend you are. But then Julie gets into the car, and she looks hopeful, and you feel like shit. “You look nice,” you say, and it’s true. She does. You’re just being honest, you tell yourself, ignoring the way the hope reaches her eyes. She swings her leg closer to yours, letting her toe touch yours. It takes a lot but you leave your foot where it is even though you want to jerk it away and run.
    Then you’re at the arcade and you can breathe again. Alex and Katie tell you where to meet them and then leave to make out or play games or both. It’s just you and Julie, her standing so close you feel her breath on your neck. Warm girl’s breath. It brings back memories of Sarah, of Alex’s girls, of what you never wanted and what you can’t have, and you leave them and Julie behind. You search for air. You find Alex and bum a cigarette. He gives you four and punches you lightly in the arm like he’s proud of you or something, like the cigarettes mean something. You punch him back and laugh when Katie tells you to keep the cancer sticks away from Julie.
    You walk away from the noise of the games, away from the crowds, away toward the highway and just stand behind the barricade, smoking your cancer sticks and watching the cars whizz by. It’s easier to breathe here, where exhaust fumes are safe smells.
    “Can I bum one?” asks Julie, suddenly beside you.
    Your eyes were closed, and you were content getting lost in the rush of traffic. You take a few seconds to open your eyes, another few seconds to answer. “Sure.”
    “I’ve never done this before,” she says with a nervous giggle, her fingers brushing yours when you pass her the cig. “You’ll have to corrupt me.”
    “It’s a bad habit.”
    “I can just do it once in a while, like you. I think this is the first time I’ve seen you smoke.”
    You think of talking her out of it, but who are you to do that? She wants to do it with you, and if you were a normal person, this would not be a huge deal—you might even be flattered that a girl wants you to teach her something, even something as vile as smoking, to get closer to you. You push that out of her head and just focus on Julie. Good ol’ Spit-playing Julie.
    Her fingers are shaking as she brings the cigarette close to her shiny pink lips, mimicking your motions. You teach her to inhale and exhale, talk her through the coughing, tease her about the head rush. She smokes half of one, and shyly asks if you can help her finish. As you