I’VE BEEN IN bed all day with a bad stomachache. I’ve been tossing and turning, trying to distract myself from the pain by listening to my music, but I’m miserable. I jerk up and sit when I feel something warm between my legs. Rushing to the bathroom, I cringe when I see blood on my underwear. I sit on the toilet, pee, and then clean myself, wadding a handful of toilet paper up and shoving it in the crotch of the clean pair of underwear I put on. Embarrassed, I know I need to get some money to go to the drug store, but there’s only one person to ask, and I really don’t want to. With my hand on his bathroom door handle that leads into his bedroom, I close my eyes and swallow an awkward breath as I rotate the knob and wait for the click.
Peeking in, he’s lying on his bed, reading a sports magazine.
Timidly, I quietly call out, “Umm . . . Pike?”
He looks up at me as he lowers the magazine to his chest. “What’s up?”
With my head down, I stammer, “I . . . umm, I need a few dollars.”
“I just gave you money the other day,” he complains.
“I know, but I . . .” I briefly look up at him and then move my eyes away when I let him know, against the heat of my face, mumbling, “I think . . . I think I just started my period.”
“Oh,” he responds, caught off guard with what I just told him. “Umm, yeah. I mean, sure,” he rattles as he gets off the bed and walks over to his dresser.
God, this is so embarrassing.
“How much?”
“I don’t . . . I don’t know.”
When I see his feet appear next to me, I hesitantly look up at him. He hands me a ten-dollar bill and asks, “Want me to walk with you?”
I shake my head and then duck back into the bathroom.
When I return from the store, I shove the bag of maxi pads in my dresser and then go set Pike’s change next to his sink. I really don’t think I can face him right now. My stomach still hurts, so I decide to crawl back into bed. I close my eyes and roll to the side when I hear Pike walk into the bathroom.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Mmm hmm.”
“Is that what the stomachache is all about?”
I really wish he would stop asking so many questions. He has no idea how much I just want to disappear right now, but I answer anyway, saying, “I don’t know,” because I honestly have no clue. Bobbi wouldn’t sign the permission slip for the sex ed the fifth graders went to last year, and I have nobody to talk to, so his guess is as good as mine.
The bed dips, and when I look over my shoulder, he’s lying down, reading the same magazine from earlier. I turn my head back and smile at the fact that, no matter what, he’s always here for me.
After a while, a couple of Pike’s buddies stop by. He hops in their car and takes off for a while, leaving me at the house all by myself. I go down and rummage around the kitchen. I fix myself a sandwich, and when I sit down to eat it, I hear the screen door squeak open and then slam shut. Leaning over in my chair, I see Carl. He’s so gross with his greasy shirt that’s barely covering his fat, pot-bellied stomach. I sit back and continue eating as he strolls in and grabs a beer from the fridge.
“Where’s your brother?” he asks before taking a swig.
“Don’t know. He left with a couple friends.”
Not wanting to be in the same room as him, I shove the rest of the sandwich in my mouth and rush upstairs. It’s then that I hear Pike return, and when he gets upstairs, I go to his room and watch as he pulls out a wad of money and shoves it in his dresser.
“Where’d you get that money?”
“Shh, I don’t want anyone knowing I have this, okay?”
Lowering my voice, I ask again, “How did you get it?”
“I’ve been working for a few months, trying to save money so that I’m not on the streets when I turn eighteen.”
“Working? You were gone for thirty minutes.”
He comes to stand in front of me and whispers, “If I tell you, you can’t say anything to anyone.”
“Pike, I don’t talk to anyone but you.”
“I’ve been running drugs for a guy I know.”
My eyes widen, and I ask, “What do you mean running?”
“Selling,” he states.
“Are you crazy? What if you get caught?”
“I’m not gonna get caught. Relax.”
“What are the two of you doing up there?” Carl hollers from downstairs.
“Nothing,” Pike shouts.
“Good, then get your fucking asses down to the basement.”
“Fuuuck,” Pike sighs and then holds my hand.
For a moment, I feel the drowning of my heart, but this is nothing new. We are down in that basement at least once a week, if not more. Pike has really helped me learn how to numb myself from what goes on down there, so I take in a deep breath and hold it for a second before slowly releasing it.
“You okay?” he asks, and when I nod, he gives my hand a soft squeeze before we make our way down.