Leah+R

 colder water //I am young. Naïve, but isn’t every girl? No, not me.//

“Ron is going to pick us up around eight.”

If I wanted to run for the door in Jessie’s room, it would be fairly easy. Jessie didn’t have a door. In fact, the only part of what should be a door, was the pathetic outlined frame of where a door //should// actually be.

“Alright,” I smiled, lacing my words flawlessly, so they didn’t sound the least undone. I wasn’t ready for "Ronny", or whatever his name was, to come get me at eight. To my recollection, the last time I ever saw this kid, was at Jessie’s school play, where he had acted as the Tin Man in The Wiz. I couldn’t fathom the thought, and honestly, I didn’t want to accept that the tin man, from the spring musical, would be driving me to my first “party.” Technically a grad party, either way, it wasn’t a situation I wanted to encounter. The avid feeling of pity ignited in me for about a minute, but I’m not empathetic.

I let my thoughts stay exactly where they were.

“So do I know anyone that’s going?” my voice was bouncy. I heard it ricochet off the walls of her room. Jessie's head emerged out from her dresser drawer. She had been scrounging for a top, that she never ended up wearing. “Um, probably some of the kids from the play.”

Oh wonderful, I can’t wait to meet whoever played the scarecrow and the lion too. The frame of Julia’s missing door seemed to be crying, “run through me.” But I couldn’t, some part of me wanted to claim that this was by force, but I had promised her I’d go and convince myself to grow up, because in high school, girls like me did this.

//No, not me//.

“that’s nice,” I decided to say instead. “Leah, don’t be nervous.” Jessie wheezed. If she didn’t have asthma, I would have thought she had dabbled into her mothers cigarettes. “Oh, I’m not.” “Ron’s nice.”

//I wasn’t nervous. Every ones nice…// “I’m sure he is,” I held my breath, letting the sentence roll out from my mouth.

I knew where her mother hid them. I mean the cigarettes. If you went into her room, the thick smell of smoke would almost be immediate. You wouldn't even have a chance to breathe. It would only make you sick and give you a headache. //I would know.// What I wouldn’t know, is the stress of being a single mother, but if I were her, I’d probably indulge in a few myself.

The sun light had descended behind the crippled looking fence of Jessie's back yard. I could see the never ending patch of weeds springing along the edges of the fence. Jessie’s brother Shawn would always be the first one out there, //always// collecting the most. Damn weeds. Jessie’s mom always made us pick out those irritating weeds during the summer. For what? They never learned their lesson anyways. They //always// came back.

"Can I wear this?" I pivoted my body away from her window. Jessie was holding a floral tank top that came from my duffle. "Yeah sure, it will probably look better on you anyways."

It was true though.

"Thanks." She said slipping it over her bronzed torso.

I knew where Shawn did it. I mean the weed. If you walked to the nearest Wawa, the undying odor of pot would be a constant. You wouldn't even have a chance to breathe. It would only make you panic. //I would know.// What I wouldn't know, is the stress of being angry at the world, but if I were him, I'd probably indulge in it myself. Maybe those summers spent picking out weeds was just a practice test for something a little better. Something that was just a little more //worth// it. //but that was something, I wouldn't kno w//