left. She left? And then they all laughed on the bench for a while and after about ten minutes they got up to go. I knew they were going before they even got up. I’m not stupid. Nature was walking off with her hand in Sylvia’s butt pocket and Jack was by himself but he had a car.
I was Sylvia’s ride but she had two more rides now except Nature doesn’t drive a car because she got her license revoked because the story goes that she was driving on Franklin and she hit a raccoon and that would be okay except she got so freaked out she ran to the nearest house crying and sobbing and said she’d hit a person and they ran out to look, all scared and calling 911, but then it was a much smaller shape on the road and one with circles around its eyes and fur and paws and a snout. And then everyone thought it meant she should take a break from driving because she was clearly high on something, to think a raccoon was a person. They are really different. The saleslady at the store asked me if I wanted to try on that jacket, the one I was next to that I’d been petting for almost twenty minutes. It was a mink maybe? But faux fur. It was sort of a golden color, like a golden retriever. I said okay. She had to undo the cord which meant it’s expensive but I tried it on like it was the animal I killed while driving high and now I couldn’t drive either. So how would I get home? I’d have to wear my road kill home through the sparkly streets ofLos Angeles. But it didn’t look good on me because my face is splotchy sometimes and it made me extra splotchy to have fur around it. Nature said she’s happy not driving because it’s so nice to get driven, like she’s a movie star in a limo, but everyone in school talked about the raccoon story for at least a week, and for a while people held up animals in the hall for her and said, Nature, is this a person? and it’d be a stuffed Snoopy. Or: Nature, is this a person? and it’d be an address book.
I went back and sat at the bench for ten minutes. They weren’t coming back. I knew that. I wanted to do my part anyway. I smiled at people walking by. An old man with overalls walked by; I don’t think old people should wear overalls; it makes them look like shrivelly toddlers. But I smiled at him anyway. Most teenage girls don’t give old people the time of day which is sad because all old people do all the time is think about how nice it was to be a teenager so long ago. After a minute, he came and circled back and he was wearing overalls and that little Jewish disc hat, and sat down. He smelled like cashews.
“Are you here alone?” he asked.
“I’m a quarter Jewish,” I told him. “I attend Yom Kippur services.”
“Good for you,” he said.
“My dad’s mom,” I said.
I smiled at him again, but the truth is, the smile is best when you’re walking, not sitting. Sitting, I wasn’t sure how long I could hold it.
“I’m meeting friends,” I said.
“Are you lost?” he said.
“Oh no,” I said. “I am extremely found.”
“That’s good,” he said. He had a piece of paper in his hand and he kept folding it and unfolding it.
“Are you lost?” I asked, because maybe he had Alzheimer’s. “Sometimes,” he said.
“You’re on the first floor of the Beverly Center mall in Los Angeles, California,” I said.
“That part I do know,” he said. “But thank you.”
My ten minutes of waiting was up, so I said bye and walked away from the Gap and went to the MAC store. I found the pink lipstick that looked close to what Nature was wearing and I wiped it off with a tissue because people who have herpes or chapped lips try on lipstick too, there’s no ethical standard. It wasn’t any good on me. It made me look even splotchier because the lipstick matched my splotch tone so it highlighted the splotches. But the saleslady wanted my money so she kept quiet and when I told her I’d buy it, she said “Great!” She said it was one of the most popular colors.
I was Sylvia’s ride but she had two more rides now except Nature doesn’t drive a car because she got her license revoked because the story goes that she was driving on Franklin and she hit a raccoon and that would be okay except she got so freaked out she ran to the nearest house crying and sobbing and said she’d hit a person and they ran out to look, all scared and calling 911, but then it was a much smaller shape on the road and one with circles around its eyes and fur and paws and a snout. And then everyone thought it meant she should take a break from driving because she was clearly high on something, to think a raccoon was a person. They are really different. The saleslady at the store asked me if I wanted to try on that jacket, the one I was next to that I’d been petting for almost twenty minutes. It was a mink maybe? But faux fur. It was sort of a golden color, like a golden retriever. I said okay. She had to undo the cord which meant it’s expensive but I tried it on like it was the animal I killed while driving high and now I couldn’t drive either. So how would I get home? I’d have to wear my road kill home through the sparkly streets ofLos Angeles. But it didn’t look good on me because my face is splotchy sometimes and it made me extra splotchy to have fur around it. Nature said she’s happy not driving because it’s so nice to get driven, like she’s a movie star in a limo, but everyone in school talked about the raccoon story for at least a week, and for a while people held up animals in the hall for her and said, Nature, is this a person? and it’d be a stuffed Snoopy. Or: Nature, is this a person? and it’d be an address book.
I went back and sat at the bench for ten minutes. They weren’t coming back. I knew that. I wanted to do my part anyway. I smiled at people walking by. An old man with overalls walked by; I don’t think old people should wear overalls; it makes them look like shrivelly toddlers. But I smiled at him anyway. Most teenage girls don’t give old people the time of day which is sad because all old people do all the time is think about how nice it was to be a teenager so long ago. After a minute, he came and circled back and he was wearing overalls and that little Jewish disc hat, and sat down. He smelled like cashews.
“Are you here alone?” he asked.
“I’m a quarter Jewish,” I told him. “I attend Yom Kippur services.”
“Good for you,” he said.
“My dad’s mom,” I said.
I smiled at him again, but the truth is, the smile is best when you’re walking, not sitting. Sitting, I wasn’t sure how long I could hold it.
“I’m meeting friends,” I said.
“Are you lost?” he said.
“Oh no,” I said. “I am extremely found.”
“That’s good,” he said. He had a piece of paper in his hand and he kept folding it and unfolding it.
“Are you lost?” I asked, because maybe he had Alzheimer’s. “Sometimes,” he said.
“You’re on the first floor of the Beverly Center mall in Los Angeles, California,” I said.
“That part I do know,” he said. “But thank you.”
My ten minutes of waiting was up, so I said bye and walked away from the Gap and went to the MAC store. I found the pink lipstick that looked close to what Nature was wearing and I wiped it off with a tissue because people who have herpes or chapped lips try on lipstick too, there’s no ethical standard. It wasn’t any good on me. It made me look even splotchier because the lipstick matched my splotch tone so it highlighted the splotches. But the saleslady wanted my money so she kept quiet and when I told her I’d buy it, she said “Great!” She said it was one of the most popular colors.
Similar Books
