Sorta Like a Rock Star

“No.”


“You don’t know what you’re missing out on, and—”

“How do you like your tea?” he asks politely.

“Tastes like grass.”

“Grass is natural. Grass is good.”

And then we sip tea in silence until Ms. Jenny and BBB come out of the bedroom, walking like they are a little drunk or something, with this crazy look in their eyes.

“Only dogs can truly love,” Private Jackson says.

“You could know love, my friend,” I say. “Donna is a catch. She is—like—very hot.”

“I will wash your teacup now,” Private Jackson says.

I hand him the teacup and say, “Can I give you a hug before I leave?”

“I would be honored to shake the hand of such an accomplished poet,” he says like always, so when he extends his hand, I hold it with both of mine for as long as Jackson will let me.

“You’re a good man, Jackson,” I say, looking him in the eyes, “and a great poet.”

“I will wash the teacups now,” he says, and then he drops my hand, turns his back, and walks into the kitchen.

And so BBB and I hop on Donna’s bike again and ride it back to her house.

When we arrive, I don’t really want to go inside for some reason, but B Thrice needs to eat, so I go in for the sake of my doggie’s health.

Donna all but sprints into the kitchen when she hears the back door open and says, “Did something happen to you, Amber?”

“No. Why?” I say without making eye contact, even though I realize she was worried because I didn’t make dinner, and then I make my way over to the cabinet where BBB’s cans are kept.

I pop one open and feed B Thrice.

He starts pigging out, because he’s always hungry after making love to Ms. Jenny.

“Did Joan of Old finally make you cry?” Donna asks, looking genuinely concerned.

“Almost, but I got her to smile with a big, sloppy sneak-attack kiss. She’s protesting the battle, because she says kissing is illegal, but it’s pretty much a bullcrap claim, and Old Man Thompson is never going to side with Joan of Old, because of that time when she called the cops and tried to get him thrown out of the home by placing a restraining order on him, because he was looking at her funny.”

“Isn’t she blind?” Donna asks.

“She is. Word.”

“Then how did she know he was looking at her?”

“She didn’t. He wasn’t. Joan just made that hooey up.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s Joan of Old, evil incarnate.”

“I have to meet this Joan of Old someday.”

“Come to the battles. Any Wednesday afternoon. Better come before she dies though, because that could be—like—any day.”

“Ricky told me that Lex Pinkston apologized to you, and then came to The Franks Lair for lunch.”

“Can you believe that bullcrap?”

I realize that I am being sorta flip toward Donna, but I need to keep being flip or else I might start crying again. I don’t want to be around Donna right now, maybe because she’s too perfect, and I know I’ll never live up. And that’s a hard reality to swallow. True? True.

“Ricky was very excited about socializing with the football team. He said they were very nice to him for once.”

“Yeah, because you threatened Mr. Pinkston with a lawsuit.”

“Remember what I told you about teenage boys and men, how they need to be herded like sheep?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Are sheep evil?”

“No, they’re sheep.”

“So maybe you should give Lex Pinkston and his boys a try. I hear the rest of The Five enjoyed playing Halo 3 with the football team. It’s good to make new friends.”

“That’s so messed up,” I say, shaking my head, feeling the tears coming.

“You know who boys like Lex tease and call names? Girls they are secretly in love with. The kid probably has a crush on you. And if he’s willing to play nice, why not let bygones be—Amber, where are you going?”

I’m frickin’ out of there, BBB following behind, and then we’re walking through the night, down the street.

My stomach is growling because I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast, but I don’t give a crap.

“You’re going to have to take a rain check tonight, JC,” I pray, “because I got nothing left over for you. I just can’t pray tonight. Sorry.”

I walk pretty quickly back to the school bus compound, BBB and I hop the fence, and I am surprised to find that Mom is home and awake.

“I made dinner,” Mom says when I enter Hello Yellow, and then she proudly holds up a McDonald’s bag.

“I could kiss you, Mom.”

“Why?”

I hug Mom for a long time, until I start crying like a baby once again. Her body feels so skeletal, and I can actually feel her ribs through the back of her jacket, which makes me sob even harder.