eyes and I turned my head away. It hurt to move. God, it hurt to move.
“Try to get your mouth under here and I'll pour water down the tube. I've got a quart bottle and I'll give you half. That's all.”
I shifted and opened my mouth. Waited. Water trickled down. Onto my nose. I wriggled up, lapping at the spillage, and then opening for the dribbling stream that dropped onto my tongue. I soaked in the water rather than drank it, my tongue taking it in like a reverse sponge, shrinking as it absorbed, then water oozed into my mouth and finally down my throat, wetting it. I only swallowed two or three times before the trickle eased then stopped.
It wouldn't save my body from dehydrating, but I could talk again. Kyle won this skirmish. He won it big.
If I worked it hard enough, I might be able to get more water, but that would cede him even more power. I couldn't afford that. I knew to keep the endgame in mind. No short-term wins. Get out of the box. Get out of this box.
Then kick his ass.
The light flicked away. But not before I caught a glimpse of myself in the dim glow. I'd worried about pee stains? My white pj's were dirt streaked, the knees torn out and bloodied. My guess was that the elbows were in the same shape since I could feel the pain of scrapes there. My fingers and knuckles were in worse shape than I'd imagined from the feel. And the feel was shredded. My right thumb was in good shape. Taped securely to the button of the radio. Stiff, yes, but unbloodied. I wanted out of here with enough strength left to take a swing at this guy, with the radio still taped to my hand.
I had been chasing a thought before. What was it? I couldn't think. I drummed my heels against the wood. Pain. Something wet, slippery. Blood?
The pain brought me back into focus a bit. Kyle. If I was here because I hurt his brother and he was this protector/avenger guy, then why hadn't I ever known about a brother? I had kept tabs on Kyle when I was a freshman. If they were close, I would have seen them together,
something.
Why was David such a secret?
Did Kyle treat David like a creeping fungus and now he felt guilty?
But there was Monster Mom.
Did he have to protect David on the sly to keep Monster Mom on his side? To keep her from leaving him the way the dad already had?
And if he was Kyle the protector and he and David were close, the question I wanted answered was
why me?
If David Kirby was the kind to go suicidal from rejection, why would he ask
me
for a date? And why would Kyle let him? It's not like I have a rep for taking in strays.
Once at a party I told my date to get me another drink, and he said, “Sure, Your Bitchness.” The place went quiet and people kind of gaped. I didn't miss a beat. “That's your Royal Bitchness, peasant, and bow when you say it.” Sure, there was the head tilt, grin, and twinking to make it golden, but…
What tender heart would lay himself open to me? If David's stupid enough to try, am I supposed to know he's walking around with a noose hanging from his neck looking for a convenient branch?
I might be dying, but I was going to die angry.
THIS.
WASN'T.
MY.
FAULT.
It was time to take Kyle to the table and close the deal.
“You've had your water; can you talk now?”
“I can talk.” I said it soft, but firm, taking back my position. “The question is, are you listening?”
Nothing.
Then, “What's that mean?”
“I'll get back to it. First, I've got the big question for you. Why am I here? Don't give me your shit about David and my note. That's an excuse; that's not a reason. Why did David ask me out?
Me.
I bet David didn't get to me by himself.”
I pulled down to regretful and sad. I didn't want Kyle on the defensive. “So, do you have the guts to get real and tell the truth before you kill me?”
The silence went on so long, I wondered if he left. If I had pushed the wrong button, pushed it too hard.
“He didn't get to you by himself. I led him.”
I almost didn't hear
“Try to get your mouth under here and I'll pour water down the tube. I've got a quart bottle and I'll give you half. That's all.”
I shifted and opened my mouth. Waited. Water trickled down. Onto my nose. I wriggled up, lapping at the spillage, and then opening for the dribbling stream that dropped onto my tongue. I soaked in the water rather than drank it, my tongue taking it in like a reverse sponge, shrinking as it absorbed, then water oozed into my mouth and finally down my throat, wetting it. I only swallowed two or three times before the trickle eased then stopped.
It wouldn't save my body from dehydrating, but I could talk again. Kyle won this skirmish. He won it big.
If I worked it hard enough, I might be able to get more water, but that would cede him even more power. I couldn't afford that. I knew to keep the endgame in mind. No short-term wins. Get out of the box. Get out of this box.
Then kick his ass.
The light flicked away. But not before I caught a glimpse of myself in the dim glow. I'd worried about pee stains? My white pj's were dirt streaked, the knees torn out and bloodied. My guess was that the elbows were in the same shape since I could feel the pain of scrapes there. My fingers and knuckles were in worse shape than I'd imagined from the feel. And the feel was shredded. My right thumb was in good shape. Taped securely to the button of the radio. Stiff, yes, but unbloodied. I wanted out of here with enough strength left to take a swing at this guy, with the radio still taped to my hand.
I had been chasing a thought before. What was it? I couldn't think. I drummed my heels against the wood. Pain. Something wet, slippery. Blood?
The pain brought me back into focus a bit. Kyle. If I was here because I hurt his brother and he was this protector/avenger guy, then why hadn't I ever known about a brother? I had kept tabs on Kyle when I was a freshman. If they were close, I would have seen them together,
something.
Why was David such a secret?
Did Kyle treat David like a creeping fungus and now he felt guilty?
But there was Monster Mom.
Did he have to protect David on the sly to keep Monster Mom on his side? To keep her from leaving him the way the dad already had?
And if he was Kyle the protector and he and David were close, the question I wanted answered was
why me?
If David Kirby was the kind to go suicidal from rejection, why would he ask
me
for a date? And why would Kyle let him? It's not like I have a rep for taking in strays.
Once at a party I told my date to get me another drink, and he said, “Sure, Your Bitchness.” The place went quiet and people kind of gaped. I didn't miss a beat. “That's your Royal Bitchness, peasant, and bow when you say it.” Sure, there was the head tilt, grin, and twinking to make it golden, but…
What tender heart would lay himself open to me? If David's stupid enough to try, am I supposed to know he's walking around with a noose hanging from his neck looking for a convenient branch?
I might be dying, but I was going to die angry.
THIS.
WASN'T.
MY.
FAULT.
It was time to take Kyle to the table and close the deal.
“You've had your water; can you talk now?”
“I can talk.” I said it soft, but firm, taking back my position. “The question is, are you listening?”
Nothing.
Then, “What's that mean?”
“I'll get back to it. First, I've got the big question for you. Why am I here? Don't give me your shit about David and my note. That's an excuse; that's not a reason. Why did David ask me out?
Me.
I bet David didn't get to me by himself.”
I pulled down to regretful and sad. I didn't want Kyle on the defensive. “So, do you have the guts to get real and tell the truth before you kill me?”
The silence went on so long, I wondered if he left. If I had pushed the wrong button, pushed it too hard.
“He didn't get to you by himself. I led him.”
I almost didn't hear
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