RE: Trailer Trash

56, The vagaries of adolescence.

After bundling back up to brave the winter weather, Tabitha joined Officer Macintire for a walk back down the street to the bus stop. What should have been a casual and thoughtless endeavors was instead made by Tabitha’s overactive imagination and self-consciousness. She knew by now, at least somewhat, how to act around her peers—other teenages her age. It was rough realizing she had no clue how to act around adults.

Tabitha corrected herself.

Dwelling on was a real weird thing to ruminate on as they walked down the sidewalk together, Tabitha leading by a few feet but taking care not to get too far ahead. Officer Macintire was pacing himself and taking it slow and steady. How did he compare to her actual father, Mr. Moore?

Tabitha wanted to be huffy about it, but instead a wave of melancholy fell over her.

Officer Macintire had cop buddies he socialized with regularly, he went hunting, he loved cheesy action movies. He had interests and hobbies—Tabitha had felt on several occasions over dinner hearing the man go on about some vintage car he’d seen listed in Was that normal?! The differences between him and her dad seemed jarring, and made Tabitha start to think she had no idea who her dad really was.

Tabitha pondered with a frown.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Darren Macintire laughed under his breath, making the motion to grope through his pockets for change. “Ah, shoot. I thought I had some on me—Hannah always makes me pay up when I say that.”

“Hah, um—” Tabitha blushed at realizing her mind had wandered off into her own little world of thoughts.

“I’m just sayin’, that’s a mighty big frown, for someone tryin’ to tell me she had an okay first day at school,” He said, sizing her up with a small smile. “Something happen? Did somebody say something? Or, hell, I don’t know.”

“No, it’s,” Tabitha let out a laugh that hung in the air as vapor for a moment. “It’s stupid. I got to thinking about—family, I guess. Trying to figure out what’s ‘normal,’ what’s—I don’t know. Different.”

“Ah, yeah,” Officer Macintire nodded to himself. “Definitely somethin’ you start thinkin’ ‘bout more and more when life takes you to some unexpected places.”

“Yeah,” Tabitha agreed.

They arrived together at the street corner where the bus stopped, and then awkwardly stood to wait. She was used to waiting here by herself to pick up Hannah, and when she was alone here she didn’t have to worry if she was standing weird, or think about what to do with her hands, or force out small talk.

“Well, I sure know how that is,” Darren shrugged. “I’d never been shot before! For a hot minute there, life felt like it was comin’ at me pretty fast. Or, maybe ‘life’ isn’t the word for it, hah! Then, it’s weeks and weeks and weeks of bein’ stuck in hospital beds, wondering how the hell life took me there. Getting impatient, starting to try to look back and second-guess every little detail. The more I tried to go back and focus on all those exact little details, the less it felt like I was even remembering any of it right.”

“Oh! Yes—I know what you mean!” Tabitha felt herself grin. “It’s—yeah.”

“Little details do come back to me,” the man wore a rueful smile. “Or like, certain things stand out. Like—the guy was barefoot! I remember that. He looked like he hadn’t showered in a while, guy was all

“He barefoot, wasn’t he?” Tabitha remembered. “I think I did notice that—I saw him running back to his car. After—uhh. Yeah. Who drives without shoes? That’s weird.”

“I kept tellin’ everyone at the station I had some kinda about the guy, like I knew he was trouble right off the bat,” Darren recounted. “But, that’s a buncha bull, hah. Us cops, we got a sixth sense, but it’s like—like we’re, I dunno, lookin’ for easy marks. Someone I can pull over today, so there’s somethin’ to report. So that it’s not like I’ve gotta tell my boss that nope, I was just sittin’ in the cruiser relaxin’ all day.”

Tabitha wore a bemused smile at hearing that, but let him continue without comment.

“It was just a routine stop,” Officer Macintire shrugged. “I don’t even really remember what in particular made me want to pull him over. Usually it’s like, shitty driving, you know? Good excuse to hassle someone, there’s all kinds of bad drivers out there. Trying to make some weird abrupt turn without signaling, seein’ people speed up just to keep other people from changing lanes where they want to. Tailgating— around here drives a bit over the speed limit, but when you’re doin’ it while tryin’ to give sloppy kisses to the bumper of the guy in front of you? No way, jose. Not on my watch.

“But, thing is,” Officer Macintire swallowed. “I just completely don’t remember what I even stopped the guy for. I remember he was pissed, he like, I think he was one of those that you know, smacked his wheel and musta cussed somethin’ awful right when he saw me flash my lights at him. You do get that. I don’t really recall actually pulling him over or much of talkin’ to the guy—all of that’s super routine, done it all a thousand times. I remember he was barefoot. Don’t remember seein’ you or that other girl playing over by the trailer park, I guess I didn’t really register you two at all.

“I I remember him pulling a gun on me,” Officer Macintire admitted. “But, after the fact it’s all kind of hazy. Been over and over it with the counselor and everyone, trying to get the statement right, and everything. I feel like it’s gotten to where I can’t tell if I’m remembering the moment, or if I’m imagining it anymore. Did I freeze up? I don’t know for sure. I feel like I must have—and that scares the shit out of me. Was there just no time to react? I’m not sure anymore. It’s like, it all just happened so fast, and everything was over before my brain was really catchin’ up to what was goin’ on.”

“I-I know what you mean,” Tabitha stammered. “Just, um, just myself with what happened at that Halloween party—it all happened so fast. She was just suddenly swinging at me. I, um, I remember I had my arms up in front of my face, and the bat hit my cast, and I was just thinking how stupid I was to put up in front of me. But, that’s just it. I wasn’t thinking, it was just reflex. There wasn’t any time to think. At all.”

“Yeah,” Officer Macintire blew out a long breath, watching it fog in the air and then disperse. “Shit. Yeah.”

Tabitha felt like all of the blood in her body was rushing towards her face.

It had perhaps been a long day with too many social interactions.

Tabitha smiled to herself and made a point to study the street in the distance as if in search of Hannah’s bus.

The diesel rumble of the yellow schoolbus approaching down the suburban street was a sight for sore eyes, and Tabitha hopped up to the edge of the curve as if lining up to board. There were colorful children’s jackets and little faces visible through the row of windows, and the elementary kids were The indistinct chatter of dozens of kids was at enough volume to compete with the sound of the bus engine when it pulled close, and Tabitha wondered if the driver had to yell at this group to keep it down.

Tabitha thought to herself.

The door opened with a rattle and a squeak, and after a few moments several kids trooped down the stairs and off the bus. Hannah was in her little blue coat and her backpack, and today Tabitha had no restraint. She immediately crouched down and opened her arms wide for a hug. The seven-year-old obliged, running forward and almost bowling her over.

“Daddy!” Hannah was surprised to see him out here to pick her up. “Are you allowed outside the house?!”

“O’course I am, Tabitha gave me permission,” Officer Macintire teased. “Hey, you got a hug for me?! Why’s Tabby gettin’ all the love?!”

“Yeah Hannah released Tabitha and then ran face first into hugging her father’s legs.

Tabitha winced, trying not to laugh.

Tabitha tried to remember the last time she’d given her father a hug, but her mind came up blank. Had she rushed over to greet her dad right off the bus, ever? She wasn’t sure. Those younger childhood memories were too far away now, and like Officer Macintire had said—she couldn’t tell anymore what was memory and what was just her imagination.

“Can you pick me up?” Hannah slapped at the man’s legs.

“Ooh, you know—I don’t think I can now, on account o’ all my I’m just now startin’ to recover from,” the man tousled her hair instead. “Let’s maybe give it five or six years. Plus, you know—you’re not anymore. You weigh what, some six hundred pounds?”

“Yep! Six hundred pounds, exactly,” Hannah agreed, squirming out of her backpack straps with difficulty and then shoving her bookbag in his arms before rejoining Tabitha. “You had school?”

“I did! My first day back,” Tabitha wore a wry smile at how the girl had zero compunctions foisting off her pack on her father like that. “It was good. Everyone was nice, I maybe made new friends.”

“Good!” Hannah nodded in approval. “I you everything would be fine. I told you. But actually? I was really really worried everyone was gonna be super mean.”

“Hannah Banana,” Tabitha hugged the little girl again and then rose to her feet. “Has anyone ever told you that you have zero filter?”

A frazzled and somewhat heavyset red-haired woman trudged up the porch steps to her trailer park trailer and fumbled in confusion with the doorknob of a locked door. Mrs. Moore wasn’t used to their mobile home being locked—she had almost always been home, and so locking up everything was rarely necessary. The key she’d prepared this morning was rediscovered in her coat pocket, she went through the unpracticed motions of unlocking her own front door, and then finally opened it and bustled inside.

Their home was empty and felt cold and unfamiliar.

As if attempting to ward off ill omens or bad luck, she hurried to turn on all of the lights, and their television set was flicked on with an angry press of the remote to create some noise. She hurried down the hallway to the master bedroom as if being chased, and with frantic motions her coat and work apron and then dress shirt were discarded and one of her normal dingy oversized shirts was pulled on. Since starting to exercise and eat better she had lost eighteen pounds, but weight loss plateaued now that her pregnancy was starting its second trimester. As a result her body felt altogether like a stranger to her, nothing she wore was as she was accustomed to, and it only magnified the eerie she just couldn’t shake.

When she returned down the hallway and checked the fridge out of habit, Shannon looked at the unappetizing contents for several long seconds with a mixture of hunger and nausea before closing the door again. She reopened the door—and stared again at tupperware containers and the assortment of wrapped dishes. Reaching in and rummaging them around didn’t reveal anything she particularly wanted to eat, and with a growing sense of disappointment and unease she slowly closed the door again and retreated to the safety and comfort of the sofa.

She wanted to see Tabitha, but even the presence of her husband would do right now. Someone, Sudden and alarming loneliness struck like a soundless bolt of lightning. Experiencing her first day at work had been agonizing, the hours on the clock had felt like she longed for somebody to vent to about it, while also at the same time she didn’t want to talk or think about it at all. Ever. There was simply a need to mentally and emotionally decompress after the incredibly stressful work shift, but she found herself still too wound up about it all to actually relax back into her old stay-at-home routine.

Commercials played without her seeing them, and with the remote clutched in a white-knuckled grip, the channel changed from Cuba Gooding Junior enthusiastically endorsing to an aircraft cabin of skydivers onward to the proceedings of reality courtroom show Frustrated, she thumbed the button again to reveal a computer animated tottering in front of a bag of bread on a kitchen counter, and with a scowl Shannon switched stations again and again and again, watching smiling people and products pass by one after another in a faded haze until she finally settled on one of the daytime soaps she recognized.

But, she couldn’t focus her attention on the rudimentary plot of today at all. Nor was she really even recalling the events of her shift at Food Lion. She just felt muddle-headed and anxious. Her feet ached from standing all day, so she didn’t try to get up and reach their handset phone.

Mrs. Moore let out a bitter laugh.

Working as a grocery cashier was an everyday ordinary job, wouldn’t Laurie sigh with exasperation if she tried to call her up and complain? If she bothered Alan at work, what would he have to say about anything she’d just gone through? He had been working full time as a general contractor for years, for How could he treat her seriously if she tried to talk to him about her time at some cushy indoor minimum wage job? They had argued about it enough already, and she knew what he would say—he would tell her to just quit if she didn’t like it.

Shannon Moore felt wet lines roll down her face as she quietly cried.

She chuffed out a sob as she smeared the back of her hand against her face.

Twisting from where she sat on the couch cushions, Mrs. Moore stared through her tears at the handset dock for the phone, because she wanted more than anything just to call the Macintires, to simply hear her daughter’s voice. But she —she didn’t dare to call her. Tabitha went back to school today, she surely had her own worries and troubles to deal with in spades. What would Tabitha think of her, if she couldn’t even manage to handle this?

“Well, how was it?!” Mrs. Macintire asked, tossing her purse aside on the kitchen table in her haste to check on Tabitha and Hannah. “How was going back to school?!”

“It was fine! Everything was fine,” Tabitha reported with a wry smile from the living room sofa. “No complaints.”

“Did you have Elena in any of your classes?” Mrs. Macintire interrogated. “Or Alicia? Any of your friends? Was anyone mean to you? Did anyone say anything?!”

“I um,” Tabitha chuckled, leaning back from where she’d been watching Hannah’s Gameboy Color screen. “I got to see them before classes started, and then again at lunch? Oh—Bobby is in my first period one, uh. Personal Fitness. I maybe made some new friends? A few girls. They were nice-ish?”

Sandra dropped heavily onto the couch beside them and started wrestling off her shoes. “I was so worried. All day I was thinking about you!”

“I was, too!” Hannah chirped, not looking up from her Pokemon battle.

“You were not, you brat,” Mrs. Macintire griped, trying to reach over to muss her daughter’s hair.

“I was so!” Hannah argued with a laugh, dodging back to press herself against Tabitha. “I didn’t even want her to go back to school. She coulda just stayed at home! I wouldn’t go to school, if I didn’t have to.”

“Going back to school is something I needed to do,” Tabitha sighed. “Needed to—well—get back on the horse. So that I don’t worry about what I’m missing out on. All the Getting to know people, socializing. Learning

Hannah repeated with a giggle.

“Too true, too true,” Mrs. Macintire agreed. “Hard to flirt with boys when she’s stuck here by herself all day.”

“Tabitha doesn’t Hannah huffed. “No way.”

Tabitha teased. “Gross, right?”

“Gross,” Hannah nodded. “Super gross.”

“Stuck here by herself, whaddya mean Officer Macintire groused, his voice carrying all the way over from the bedroom. “What am I, chopped liver?!”

“I kindly asked Tabitha to flirt with you, honey,” Sandra yelled back, rolling her eyes before lowering her voice to confide with the girls upon the couch. “Because man oh man, trust me you do even want to get him started.”

“I heard that!” Her husband protested.

“He wore a shirt today, at least,” Tabitha gave the woman a wincing smile.

“All by himself?!” Mrs. Macintire’s eyebrows rose in mock surprise.

“Yeah,” Hannah nodded. “He walked out to the bus stop today.”

“All by himself?” Mrs. Macintire’s facade dropped that time and she was speaking with genuine concern.

“I’m not The voice from across the house was full of indignation.

“No, no—I walked with him, we both went out to pick up Hannah,” Tabitha assured her. “We were both bundled up! He took it slow. Everything was fine.”

“Hmm,” Mrs. Macintire hummed.

Hannah imitated. “Does this mean um, that he’s basically all better, now?”

“Well,” Mrs. Macintire sighed but wore a contented smile. “We’ll see, kiddo. We’ll see.”

“Because…” Hannah put on a mighty pout, “He wouldn’t even pick me up and carry me!”

“Oh my goodness,” Mrs. Macintire shook her head. “He wouldn’t even carry you?!”

“He wouldn’t,” Hannah said. “He just made excuses.”

“How about, once the doctor says I’m cleared for physical activity again, I can carry you?” Tabitha proposed. “I’ll be able to give you piggyback rides. Or, I could even show up at the bus stop with your new bike! That way, you could just ride it home.”

“Oh, please,” Mrs. Macintire laughed. “God forbid my little girl would have to down the street, on her own two legs.”

“How much longer for your doctor’s appointament?” Hannah asked.

and, just a few more days,” Tabitha said. “Then, hopefully the cast comes off and I can start running in the mornings again. I haven’t played tag with my cousins for already! Or exercised much at all. I’m getting all fat and flabby just sitting around with nothing to do.”

“You’re not fat,” Hannah snorted. “And—you’ve gotta play with not your cousins. They’re

“They’re boys,” Tabitha chided her. “I missed them. Oh! And, I did want to visit in on them and see how their Pokemon are coming along. And maybe borrow one of their beach towels.”

“Beach towels?” Mrs. Macintire asked.

“Yeah—we need to bring in individual towels at school, for the locker room,” Tabitha explained. “I know my cousins each got their own different towels, that they never ever wound up even using. I think they all just got chucked in storage somewhere.”

“I have a cool towel you can use!” Hannah volunteered. “It’s from Way better than stupid Mom, where did you put my—”

“Hey hey hey, we can buy Tabitha her own beach towel, how about that?” Sandra’s eyes lit up. “We can go

“Noooo, no we can’t!” Tabitha covered her face in embarrassment. “We were shopping again yesterday! Hannah

“What do you think, Hannah?” Mrs. Macintire ignored Tabitha’s plight. “New beach towels, for sure. Bathing suits? Tabitha, come to think of it do you even

“It’s

“We should see if they have ones,” Hannah suggested, not looking up from her game. “Towels. Like,

“If she doesn’t wanna borrow a girly one, we have our awesome one—” Officer Macintire offered from across the house. “Our big towel. Be cooler with all the high school kids if—”

“Hon, I don’t think she should bring a towel with a on it to Mrs. Macintire hollered back. “Good grief, she’s

“No, that’s exactly why all the other kids’ll think it’s so damned cool—”

“La la la ‘cause we’re Mrs. Macintire rebutted. “What do you say, girls? Shopping, and then maybe McDonald’s to celebrate?!”

To Tabitha’s dismay, Mrs. Macintire insisted on taking them out on a ‘quick’ shopping trip to K-mart for a nice towel, where Sandra and Hannah combed up and down the aisle analyzing and debating the design of each and every beach towel on display—arguing over them as if was a critical fashion statement where Tabitha could not afford any faux pas.

“How about this one?”

“Ugh mom that one’s too boring.”

“Too boring? Hmmm. You don’t think it’s cute?”

“It has to be

Tabitha thought with a wry smile.

As a result, Tabitha was presented with and beach blankets that Mrs. Macintire thought would be cool, while Hannah was pushing for her to pick a towel that was from an animated movie Tabitha had never even heard of. Although there were several ones, to her surprise Hannah didn’t think them appropriate for a high schooler, insisting they were ‘too girly.’ Which led Tabitha to wonder—were high school teens not supposed to be too girly?

Tabitha hid her bafflement with a look of amusement.

In any case, and towels were directly vetoed by Hannah as being for lame and stupid and ‘for boys,’ which altogether eliminated all of the viable options available at the K-mart. and beach towels were also there on display, but disregarded as not up to par with the high standard of excellence and discerning taste Tabitha would be expected to display in the locker room.

Tabitha smiled to herself.

There at the Sandboro mall, they perused Sears and JC Penny—both had a disappointing selection that was remarkably similar to what K-mart had offered—and then tried Spencer’s and Hot Topic. Those would surely offer alternatives at least, featuring the likes of and various wrestling paraphernalia. These were ‘grown up kids’ stuff, in Hannah’s words, and appropriate for her to show off in high school.

Despite it being a Monday night—a school night—Ziggy was here today, lording over the Hot Topic from its central kiosk with crossed arms and typical dour frown. She was back in full form this time, with her green hair dyed anew and fashioned into punk spikes that pointed out in every direction, and from the way Hannah squeezed and unsqueezed Tabitha’s hand at the sight of Ziggy, Hannah appeared to be super excited to see such a crazy hairstyle.

“Hey!” Tabitha greeted Ziggy with a chipper smile.

“Tabby,” Ziggy had responded with a curt nod that shook her spiked-out hair.

“Do you know her?!” Hannah whispered, awed by their apparent familiarity. “She knows your name!”

“Of course,” Tabitha boasted. “Ziggy is the coolest one here at the Sandboro mall! Everyone who’s anyone knows her. Ziggy, meet Hannah. Hannah; Ziggy.”

“Hi?” Ziggy offered them a wince of reluctance.

“Ziggy?” Hannah’s mouth went wide in surprise. “Her name is That’s so cool.”

It was strange and surreal visiting Hot Topic with Mrs. Macintire and Hannah in tow rather than being here with Elena—Ziggy seemed to possess a sixth sense that clamped her lips down on any snide remarks in the presence of the behind them wearing aviator shades and a bemused smile, and even more so Ziggy wasn’t able to be rude or flippant with an adorable little lamb like Hannah invading her domain and looking around the store with wide eyes.

Tabitha wanted to laugh at imagining it.

“Hannah hon—rude to stare!” Mrs. Macintire reminded her daughter. “I’m so sorry, she’s just a menace.”

“It’s whatever,” Ziggy said, putting on her most stoic and unaffected face. “No biggie.”

“I really really like your hair,” Hannah was candid with Ziggy. “Mom, can I—”

“Your hair’s too long to gel up into spikes,” Mrs. Macintire shook her head. “Sorry baby. And, if we cut it short, then you’d have to have short hair the rest of the time, and you said you didn’t want that. Remember?”

“Yeah,” Hannah pouted. “But…”

“With enough hair spray, all things are possible!” Tabitha gave Hannah’s hand a squeeze. “We’ll see about that some other time, that’s a project. Okay?”

“Yeah!” Hannah admired Ziggy’s green spikes with open enthusiasm.

“So… can I help you find anything?” Ziggy asked through gritted teeth, communicating the implicit with her eyes.

“Just looking for a beach towel for school,” Tabitha explained. “For the locker room. We weren’t, uh, satisfied with the options everywhere else. You know how it is.”

“Yeah uh, well beach towels, they’re not really in season?” Ziggy remarked in a deadpan voice, casting wary glances at each of them. “But yeah, whatever all we got is over here.”

A small assortment of beach towels, pillowcases, and even rugs was over in the corner of Hot Topic just past the giant wall display of band tees, and Ziggy helped leaf through the rack to show them what was available. Most of what they had was stuff, which seemed to be a minimalistic clip art smiling rabbit paired with different sarcastic one-liners such as and and Mrs. Macintire made an appreciative noise at seeing those, but both Tabitha and Hannah were unimpressed.

“Yeah, sorry?” Ziggy said as she continued sliding the hangers. “We used to have stuff more suited to um, —Spice Girls and all but we cleared them out a while ago. We have some kinda reggae ones? You probably don’t know Bob Marley.”

“Bob Marley?” Hannah asked.

“Yeah, Hannah you know Bob Marley,” Mrs. Macintire reminded her with a grin. “I heard you and Tabby girl singin’ together just the other night.”

“Oh. Right,” Hannah nodded. “I know Bob Marley. The one. Tabitha taught me—it’s not called mom, it’s

“Ohh, right, right,” Mrs. Macintire patted the top of Hannah’s head.

“Calming music is nice late at night,” Tabitha explained.

It was hard not to feel a surge of pride at Hannah’s impressive memory retention—at least, for things that caught the little girl’s interest like Disney characters and song lyrics. Hannah of course did not care to commit things like math or sciences to her brain space. But, cartoons, storybook lines, song titles, or lyrics? Hannah could rattle them off endlessly.

“Hannah, do you remember the other one we sing at night? Tabitha prompted with a small smile. “The one we have your little ukulele for? Do you remember who wrote that?”

“Israel Hannah enunciated carefully. “From Hawai-i!”

They’d spent an entire giggly night after storybook time teaching Hannah how to pronounce the name right, so there was no way in hell Tabitha was going to fail to bring it up.

“Right, well yeah,” Ziggy sounded miffed. “From Wizard of Oz or whatever. Well, uh, yeah so there’s Bob Marley if you want, and then after that we just have like, and and that kinda stuff. Tabitha—do you drink?”

“Hmm, I only drink the blood of my enemies,” Tabitha teased.

“We only drink the blood of our enemies,” Hannah agreed in a solemn voice. “And—we never go thirsty.”

Practice let them both deliver that gem with a straight face, but Mrs. Macintire behind them couldn’t help but let out a small of laughter. If Ziggy’s jab there had been intended to have Tabitha blustering or embarrassed in front of Mrs. Macintire here, well… Ziggy was out of luck. While that unsubtle establishing of pecking order would have been effective in making Tabitha feel super awkward around her real parents, no such difficult divide existed between her and the Macintires.

The dichotomy of and just wasn’t present here to begin with, perhaps because it simply felt like was something like the penultimate rebellious act. There was no deeply ingrained familial friction or years of built up interpersonal tension to be found here, and besides, Sandra was a sassy mom, and had a great sense of humor.

Even if Tabitha had joked about getting shitfaced or tossing back shots of tequila with Hannah until they both passed out, both of these Macintires would just take her cue and run with the gag. And then laugh about it together later, with a giddy Also, now Tabitha knew where Officer Macintire had acquired his much lauded towel—because an identical one just like it was hanging up here at Hot Topic.

“Uhhh. Right,” Ziggy once again looked a little speechless. “Well. We might have something over in clearance? Since it’s January, and all.”

The punk teen walked them over to show them where the clearance section was, and then immediately excused herself in a hurry to assist another customer walking in. Sandra arched both eyebrows and grinned at Tabitha, but Hannah was already absorbed in rifling through the stuff on sale in search of a cool beach towel. At this time of year all of the Christmas stuff was marked down in price and on its way out, so they picked out a beach towel there featuring a polar bear wearing a Santa hat that looked pretty good. The design had neat, clean lines, the color scheme was a charming bold motif in white and red, and the polar bear holding up a glass soda bottle was incredibly cute.

Tabitha held out the fabric so that she could admire it with Hannah.

They brought it up to the register and a silently fuming Ziggy rung them up, and then Tabitha affixed the towel around Hannah’s neck so that the little girl could wear it as a cape. They left the Sandboro mall together in triumph, with both Sandra and Hannah looking incredibly smug. Tabitha wasn’t quite sure how to feel about the brief interactions with Ziggy, but there was nothing she could do about it. At some point in their last meeting Ziggy seemed to have mentally categorized Tabitha as and decided that they would be at odds.

Tabitha thought to herself.

“Mom!” Hannah sat up straight in the back seat of the Acura in sudden panic, pressing both hands against her window. “Mom, wait! You missed the turn-off, we’re passing it!”

Tabitha watched with a wry smile from the other side of the back seat as the iconic of McDonalds was passed by and began to recede into the distance of Sandboro’s crowded main strip that was already thick with signs sporting the logos of various businesses and restaurants. The sheer sudden alarm that took hold in the little girl when she seemed to realize they might not be getting the promised Happy Meals was cute and also made Tabitha want to sigh and shake her head. After all, if there was one thing in this world that make Tabitha feel old, it was comparing herself to Hannah.

“Mom—Mom Hannah cried out in a fluster.

“Calm down, shoebug,” Sandra placated her daughter in a calm voice. “That’s the Micky-dees. We’ve gotta stop over at the Micky-dees, because Tabitha’s boyfriend Bobby might be working there tonight, and we need to tease and heckle both of them as much as we can.”

“Oh,” Hannah’s near-tantrum receded almost as quickly as it had surged up. “Yeah. That makes sense. Tabitha—is Bobby your boyfriend?”

“Oh, no no no,” Tabitha played along. “Bobby? He’s way out of my league, he’s too good-looking and popular for me.”

“Bobby is?” Hannah asked in surprise, her adorable features already turning into a predictable frown.

“Yeah, for sure,” Tabitha continued. “I wouldn’t have a chance with someone as handsome and charming as him. Having a crush on the cute guy or being infatuated is one thing, but I need to be realistic. I’ll have to settle with someone that’s more on my level, right?”

“Ha Mrs. Macintire made an amused sound of exasperation. “Oh, is that right?”

“I’m just being realistic!” Tabitha played out a shrug and sad shake of her head.

“Bobby’s not out of your league!” Hannah was already outraged on her behalf. “You’re already in like, the top leagues. The very top of ones.”

“The leagues,” Mrs. Macintire said. “What do you think, Hannah—wouldn’t Tabby and Bobby be cute together?”

“Yeah,” Hannah agreed. “They’re not different leagues. I think they fit in the same, right?”

“Oh, no,” Tabitha lowered her head pitifully. “I’m from a poor trailer park—I grew up poor as a church mouse! Not to mention I used to be At school, I’m infamous, rather than famous! Plus—look, and I’m still a cripple. I have my bad arm, and then my head—all sorts of medical issues, and, and poor health, and—”

Hannah giggled and stuck her tongue out, apparently deciding that grappling with each one of those individual arguments would be silly and pointless. “Nuh-uh, Tabitha. Because—Because, I say so.”

“Oh, because you say so?” Tabitha chuckled. “Well… huh. I guess you’re right, then.”

“I am,” Hannah nodded. “I’m right. You’re not—you’re not all that stuff, you’re Because, I say so.

“You tell her, Hannah!” Sandra teased. “So—we definitely do still want McDonalds?”

“Yes, yes!!”

The pavement rolled on beneath their wheels as Sandra took them back on the familiar road bridging the city of Sandboro and the much smaller town that was Springton. The atmosphere in the car Tabitha shared with Mrs. Macintire and Hannah was bubbly and fun in that way she found positively addicting. With them, things could just be pointless happy fluff; they chatter about nothing, with none of the tension or awkwardness Tabitha remembered experiencing around her actual parents.

Tabitha thought with a wistful smile as she joked around with Hannah.

In most of her memories still, her mother was the authoritative one; crabby, stern. Critical of everything. Things had changed between them in the recent months, but somehow that original impression kept lingering on. With the Mr. Moore in her mind, Tabitha thought of her father as someone she simply had difficulty relating to or carrying on any long conversation with. He wasn’t interested in her interests, and had never had much to say about them beyond vague words of encouragement, or that ever-familiar wall that brought their talks up short.

Tabitha remembered with a stinging flash of bitterness.

Tabitha glanced at Hannah with envy and also a sudden strange impulse.

Tabitha wondered.

Thinking about it made her want to spoil Hannah rotten with no restraint just like the Macintires already were, it made her want to spend lavishly on getting her four little cousins video games and movies. Gave her the compulsion to to be present in their lives and supportive and uplifting. To ensure that someone in their childhood was there to encourage even silly or unrealistic dreams. Because, they were all and Tabitha felt like some very early reality checks had stunted her own growth.

Tabitha sighed, trying to push the heavy introspection out of mind.

When they finally pulled in to the Springton McDonalds, it was during their busy dinner rush. The parking lot was just about full, and Sandra steered them into a line of cars waiting at the drive thru that was now five vehicles long. Tabitha hungry, and she was excited about maybe happening to spot Bobby, and also there was a welcome playful energy inside the car as Mrs. Macintire and Hannah worked to hatch their plans for teasing the teenagers.

But, now there was also something else—a bad feeling in the pit of Tabitha’s stomach.

“What should we say?!” Sandra grinned. “Whaddya think, Hannah Josannah? Should we say ‘Bobby’s girlfriend is here, can you please send Bobby up to the window?’”

“H-he might not even be working tonight,” Tabitha gave them a weak protest. “I don’t know if—”

“Yeah!” Hannah bounced in her seat. “We should say—we need to ask him if he thinks he’s in Tabitha’s same league, or if—”

“Wait, wait,” Tabitha found her voice turning serious. “I, um. I actually just don’t really feel good about this. Seriously.”

“Seriously?” Mrs. Macintire paused to turn back and give Tabitha a look. “Tabitha—hon, we’re just kidding around! C’mon.”

“No, I mean—yes, you can tease about it, that’s fine,” Tabitha hurried to explain. “I just—I just got really suddenly uncomfortable with the thought of you guys teasing Bobby? I, I mean, if he’s working tonight, then that means he was there all day at school, and then went right to work, and spent all day kind of—busy, not able to even relax or have time for himself. It, um, it suddenly feels so very to, to be flippant and teasing with him like this, just because been having fun with our day. Does that make sense?”

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“Whew, lordie,” Sandra’s grin only widened, and the woman slipped her aviators down with a finger so she could more seriously evaluate Tabitha. “Tabitha kiddo, I knew you had it bad, but I didn’t realize you had it bad.”

“I uh—I just, I’d feel bad!” Tabitha blushed. “We, we shouldn’t just assume Bobby’s having a great day, and that he’s cool with us—”

“But, can we ask him what league he’s in?” Hannah didn’t seem to quite be getting her meaning, but it was in that subtle smug seven-year-old way that suggested her ignorance was intentional. “Like, can we ask him if he thinks he and Tabitha are on the right level together?

Tabitha really regretted explaining hypotheticals to Hannah, right now. Because, of course it was one of those grown-up words that made her want to facepalm when Hannah threw it back at her with that enormous adorable smile.

“Hmmm—maybe we’d better just keep our heads down, ask for our Happy Meals,” Mrs. Macintire teased. “Tabitha’s getting all self-conscious! Look, her face is going red!”

“I, I, you can rib me about this, that’s fine,” Tabitha couldn’t stop smiling despite the situation. “But—please, don’t play with Bobby about it! I’m—I’m actually not comfortable with that. Not when he’s been at school and then at work all day long. Please?”

“What can we say?” Hannah pouted. “Can we at least say, like,

“Yes, that’s totally fine,” Tabitha said. “You can embarrass me, I kind of deserve it. But, uh, yeah, Bobby’s cool and I like him a little, but we’re not really close yet. For us to, to like, roll up and just start messing with him, when we don’t know how his day has gone?”

“Didn’t you say you went and messed with him when you were with your friends the other night?” Mrs. Macintire countered. “With Alicia and—oh, shoot. What’s her name. That other girl.”

“Um, Casey, and yes,” Tabitha felt even more blood rush to her face. “That was… it felt different. I, looking back, I don’t think we should have, uh. I’m repenting, alright? Th-there was—there was peer pressure and stuff. I have no excuse, I was in the wrong!”

“So—we can tease him?” Hannah seemed thrilled by how flustered Tabitha had grown. “Mom?”

“Do you really think Bobby will mind?” Mrs. Macintire arched an eyebrow at Tabitha’s theatrics. “From what little I’ve seen of him, he’s very, uh—”

“Very what?” Hannah asked with interest. “Cute? Handsome? Big leagues?”

“Well, he seemed like a real joker,” Mrs. Macintire finally said. “That’s why this is so fun—who would have ever thought that was Tabitha’s type?! But, not like I can even talk. Look at the guy I wound up with!”

“You mean dad?” Hannah grinned. “Yeah… dad’s not very big leagues.”

Mrs. Macintire almost did a spit-take as she burst into laughter herself. “Good

“I’m—I’m just going to shut up now!” Tabitha mumbled, absolutely mortified. “Do as you will! I’m, um, I’m going to duck down and pretend I’m not even in the car. Do as you will!”

“Oh, well okay then—we will,” Mrs. Macintire sounded smug. “Hannah?”

Hannah dramatically cleared her throat.

Tabitha crushed herself against the car door, face buried in her hands.

Mrs. Macintire sighed, putting the back of her hand to her forehead as though she was fit to faint away.

Tabitha grimaced.

As it turned out, Bobby was not in fact scheduled for a shift that night.

A salad and two Happy Meals were ordered as Tabitha struggled to recover her composure, they pulled up to one window and then the next to pay and pick up their food, and then Tabitha ate her fries with a sullen smile as they drove on towards home. Hannah and Mrs. Macintire both appeared extraordinarily pleased with themselves—but Tabitha swore to herself that she would have her revenge.

“Never had a real boyfriend, and… I haven’t had my first kiss yet,” Tabitha said. “I’ve been on something dates before, but—yeah. It went awful, and I guess—I guess it kinda spooked me away from trying to, uh. Dip my toe further into all that.”

“Damn, so—” Bobby’s handsome face wore a look that was thoughtful without being judgemental. “So, you haven’t had a first kiss yet?”

“I haven’t,” Tabitha confirmed, trying to make the shrug she gave him nonchalant.

As if it didn’t matter—as if on the magic and romantic side of life completely had been no big deal for her. It was easy to appear disaffected, but inside it stung. It always had. That bitter sense of loss had become a part of her, because she wanted to love, to be loved, to experience affection and give it in turn, for someone to care, and for those feelings to be something they could physically express, to manifest as fantastic life-changing moments.

“Then, uh—do you to have your first kiss?” Bobby asked.

The charming and cocky facade of his had been cracked open from the inside, and he was regarding her with a rather vulnerable look of anticipation. This would be a turning point for them, perhaps, where either they were able to open up to each other on a deeper, more meaningful level… or where Tabitha would—gently—push that playful carefree mask he usually wore back into place and the offer to kiss would just be brushed off by both of them as a joke. Banter.

“Yeah, kinda,” Tabitha gazed in his eyes, trying to savor this moment. “Just… can my first kiss be somewhere special? Not like, just here in the hallway. Maybe uh, maybe we could find somewhere a little more private?”

“Of course,” Bobby seemed to light up at her answer, and he took her by the hand.

She stared at their joined hands for a moment in awe—was everything really going so well? This all just felt

“W-wait,” Tabitha stammered. “This is, uh, it’s not or anything?”

“What do you mean?” Bobby searched her expression.

“I guess… because I’m so much older than you,” Tabitha said with a wince. “Sorta. Because—because, yeah, I um, I lived out a life until I was sixty years old, so. It’s weird. Right? I mean, I’m not sixty for sure, but I was, once. This doesn’t make me like, a pedo or a groomer or something? Bobby, you’re a teenager.”

“Aren’t we the same age?” Bobby seemed puzzled by her hesitance here.

“Yes, and also—no?” Tabitha was at a loss as to how to explain.

“But I mean, like— we’re the same age, right?” Bobby reasoned. “And then, in the future—in the future we’d still be the same age. Over there, you’re sixty and I’m sixty. Right?”

“Yeah, but—” Tabitha paused. “But, I’m from the future, and you’re Right now. So…”

“Okay then, I’m from the future, too,” Bobby lied unabashedly. “I just didn’t want to tell anyone, so. Yeah. Keep it a secret for me, okay?”

“No, seriously Bobby,” Tabitha tried to withdraw her hand.

“You said you’ve never kissed anyone,” Bobby recalled. “Did you mean just now, or in both lives?”

“Both, uh,” Tabitha winced again. “Sadly.”

“Then, s’not like you’re exactly or anything,” Bobby set up his argument. “You’re not like, using your future knowledge to right? To take advantage of me? You’re not leaning on your age and maturity to take advantage of things, have ill intentions or all that jazz?”

“Uhh,” Tabitha tried to think it through, but it was getting hard to concentrate. “I… guess I’m not? But still, that doesn’t necessarily mean—”

“Tell you what,” Bobby gave her hand a squeeze. “Let’s find the where we can have some privacy for your first kiss, and then you can decide whether or not we wait or if we just go ahead and do it. See how the moment feels, alright?”

“Well… alright,” Tabitha nodded.

She really did want to kiss him, and maybe she was just looking forward to it too much. Was it finally her time? Would it be amazing, or would it disappoint? She needed to know.

He led her down the bustling hallway of Springton High in the direction of the quad, and the indifferent faces of the students became a blur as her eyes tracked down the length of her arm to where her hand was clasped with Bobby’s. Holding hands was… She enjoyed it a lot more than she thought she would, the context of it, even just the that they were close enough for that kind of intimate gesture was cool. There was a level of trust there, a bond, and holding hands with a boy she was interested in just had her feeling giddy and light on her feet.

When they reached the quad area with its tables and planters it was crowded, and Tabitha wondered for an oblique moment what day it was. There were people everywhere! She was still riding that high of happiness seeded through with anticipation, so she wasn’t too bothered as Bobby gave her a helpless smile and brought her on past the back quad and towards the track and field area where the Personal Fitness class met in the mornings.

It was busy there, too—half of the bleachers were full and there were what must have been several different classes of kids out on the field doing activities of some sort. There were small cliques of people clustered here and there talking, and even scattered groups of students jogging around the track that looped around the field together. Now she felt a little dismayed. This wasn’t the right place for a perfect first kiss, either. But where the spot that would be just right? Away from prying eyes, but also somewhere nice. Memorable.

Still hand-in-hand, they doubled back towards the quad and then tried one of the other hallways, but there were people everywhere. Talking and walking along the corridors, leaning against lockers, even when they strode past the open doors of classrooms all of the seats were full. There was just commotion everywhere, like this was some that Tabitha couldn’t quite recall, maybe one of those Homecoming things, or a pep rally.

“Hmm, let’s try over this way,” Bobby suggested.

They went down another one of the hallways and skirted around the Science Building all the way back towards the lunch room. Everywhere was full of people, there seemed to be no secluded spot where they could have a private moment. The cafeteria was a veritable sea of bodies, there were kids hanging out behind every corner and casually chatting along every walkway. What was going on?

Tabitha wondered as her impatience and frustration grew.

The bus loop was full of buses and flocks of teenagers were boarding and disembarking and waiting for their bus in giant throngs. Thinking that perhaps this had cleared out the overpopulated hallways, Tabitha went back in that direction, but there were still kids everywhere, laughing and talking and joking with one another as though this was an unusually long gap between one class and the next.

Something was wrong.

She checked down another hallway, she tried the quad again, and although she could tell from outside it was full of loud people carrying on she was about to attempt peeking in the art room anyways—when she realized her hand was empty.

Bobby was gone.

Tabitha looked around in embarrassment, her frustration turning into fear and urgency.

Tabitha dashed down the hallways in search of his familiar figure, his smile that always put her heart at ease—but he was nowhere to be found. She parted through the crowds first politely, and then without care of whose shoulders she bumped into or which person’s papers and books got scattered across the tile. The masses of students everywhere were starting to thin, and as Tabitha turned down this hallway and that and barged into both classrooms she knew from this lifetime and those she barely remembered from the future, she found the rooms empty.

Vacant seats and empty desks.

The background murmur of thousands of voices all speaking at once throughout the campus was dwindling to just occasional echoes down hallways in the distance. Dread was beginning to overtake her and she ran with all of her might down corridors that were sparse with people and then ones that were completely empty. Minutes later, as she rounded a bend she realized that the lights in this wing were off. Was school closed for the day?

Had she missed her chance?

Frustration and a gnawing sense of loss slowed her to a trot and then a slow walk. There was no one here—Tabitha not only couldn’t find Bobby, but now she couldn’t find What had happened?! How had she missed it—they had been holding hands! Where did he—

Tabitha woke with a jolt, still feeling adrenaline from her run through the dream. She’d had vivid nightmares and F-22 fever dreams as recently as the past couple months, but none that quite like this one, and with a single motion Tabitha swung the covers back and sat up, shoulders heaving.

“What the fuck,” Tabitha said, staring out across the darkened bedroom.

Furious, she got up on her knee, leaned over her pillow, and started punching it—with because she was in the final week before getting her cast removed and the twinges and aches were long since a thing of the past. She laid into the pillow with a snarl of frustration, watching the soft shape deform beneath a fist and then the blocky shape of her cast and then her fist again without finding much satisfaction in the violence.

Tabitha swore to herself, angrily swiping tangles of hair out of her face and sitting back up.

She had experienced a few semi-lurid dreams where she was about to kiss her old senior-year crush a few times in her past life, and even had an exceptionally sexy dream later on in her twenties. All of those were ago though, and feeling some combination of raging hormones, her subconscious desires, and the fucked up psychology driving her current dilemma made tonight seem like her fourteen year old body had absolutely betrayed her.

Tabitha fumed.

The absolute part of it all was how much she had been looking forward to it. The moment in the dream just felt right, things weren’t too awkward, the mood was right, their chemistry was okay, she wasn’t terrified and her fight or flight panic response wasn’t engaging— Having that opportunity about to happen, and then having her dream devolve into nonsense that didn’t deliver was just horribly unsatisfying!

“Zero stars, zero fucking stars,” Tabitha grumbled under her breath. “Two strong thumbs down. Zero out of five, no thank you, —would not dream again.”

With a careless motion she smoothed out her pillow, readjusted her legs, and dropped her head back down. She had no idea what time of night it was, she was but also dead tired, and now had a bunch of weird thoughts that she didn’t particularly want to stew in right now. After exhaling a long breath and then groping out across the small table beside her bed, Tabitha’s found the F-22 raptor model Alicia had given her for her birthday. With care she traced her fingers along the miniature fuselage and then gave it a little pat.

Tabitha sung in a sleepy murmur.

The room was filled with stifling silence, and although she waited and waited, Tabitha did not fall right back asleep.

“Holding hands is probably okay at fourteen or fifteen, right?” Her voice muttered into the darkness. “That’s not… super weird or awful. Holding hands, yeah. Hugging? Maybe. Any of that stuff with bases, touching or copping a feel or getting grabby with each other—nope. shot right outta the comfort zone and like, into of nope. Feels like a hard personal boundary, there, that might need time with like, a therapist to start working through. We uhh, we can revisit all of when I’m way way older. Or never. Whichever comes first.”

Her second day going back to school didn’t require nearly as much attention to detail and preparation—it seemed almost silly spending time obsessing over her outfit, when it would be hidden beneath a bulky jacket most of the time anyways. Tabitha stared at tired eyes in the mirror as she brushed and arranged her hair, and then carefully turned her face this way and that searching for blemishes. Her face was free of acne for now, but her pale skin was less and more Close scrutiny made the blue veins just beneath the skin at her temples seem stark and obvious, and she was for sure going to have to do something about the dark circles beneath her eyes.

Tabitha was no stranger to applying makeup, but it also wasn’t an everyday routine for her, causing her to flinch and wince as cold color-correcting concealer was dabbed in beneath her eyes and blended in. Yesterday, a full twenty minutes had been spent poring over every detail in the mirror so that she looked her best. Today, she just wanted to hurry to hide the obvious flaws, so that no one would comment on how tired she looked.

The finer details of her dream last night slipped through her fingers and vanished into obscurity when she tried to grasp them now, but she remember the basic gist of it—her and Bobby were going to kiss, and then they didn’t. It was easy for Tabitha to chalk this one up to a combination of yesterday’s teasing and overthinking and that vague, formless but ever-present shaping her subconscious thoughts in sleep. In her dream they had been searching and searching for just the right spot for a first kiss, and before she knew it, the moment was gone. The chances were gone. Bobby was gone.

Tabitha scoffed at herself in the mirror.

Tabitha performed a scowl that turned into a pout, and then schooled her expression into a shy smile, and then a big one.

She checked her teeth in the mirror, then searched again for imperfections that might require a touch-up, and then put on her game face.

Her prior life as an introvert had given her what she liked to think of as She had been so used to having her guard up when she was around other people and showing nothing at all, that it actually became difficult to properly display expressions when she intended to—they seemed to come out halfway rather than fully-formed. A weak half-smile when she meant to have a big positive smile on. A puzzled, thoughtful look instead of a face intended to look stern or cross or illustrate that she was getting upset.

Time with her cousins and then Hannah had helped enormously, because Tabitha tended to try to exaggerate her expressions, her body language, and her manner of speech around them when she could. Around her peers it was still a struggle to keep from being on guard or having her hackles up and reverting to and in the presence of adults Tabitha thought she might as well have been faking it or putting on an act. Was that For a teenager? She thought it might be.

Tabitha told herself.

There didn’t seem to be some personal social milestone that flipped a mental switch for her and made acting extroverted easy.

Tabitha thought to herself.

She dressed in the ‘angelic’ bridesmaid blouse and white jeans ensemble, which had been her previous favorite outfit—her current favorite outfit was the new ‘librarian chic’ blouse with high-waisted jeans. Which Tabitha intended to keep in reserve for a warmer school day, where she could go without a winter coat and hoodie and properly show it off. Yesterday had seen her long-sleeved A-line winter dress which was modest and sensible, but because it had been hidden beneath layers just about the whole day, she felt like she hadn’t that look at school just yet.

Tabitha thought, mentally cataloging all of her options.

The thing was, there all that many options—when leaving the trailer park she’d shoved only her favorites and a couple t-shirts in her bag. Most of what she had now was new. The wider array of bland, boring tops and sweatpants and such which she thought of being from ‘her past childhood’ had been left behind, and by comparison just about everything she wore now was very dressy. Tabitha was going to need to buy a new outfit for when she was active at school for her Personal Fitness class, because her old trashy running outfit wasn’t something she could wear in front of the teenage girl clique.

Tabitha wanted to punch her pillow again.

Tabitha shouldered her book bag, took one last trip into the bathroom to check her appearance, and then quietly went on down the hall through the living room. The timing of her school day didn’t match up well with Mrs. Macintire leaving for work, and Hannah wouldn’t need to wake up and start her day for almost another hour. A single bread slice was put in the toaster—Tabitha double checked to ensure the toasting dial wasn’t set at which remained Officer Macintire’s preference.

Hannah’s insulated fabric lunchbox was open and airing out overnight on the counter as per usual, so Tabitha checked to see that it didn’t need wiping clean, then began to fill it. A drink, a rolled gummy pack, a very small ziplock of baby carrots, and then today Hannah’s sandwich would be turkey and cheese, cut at a diagonal, and with the crusts cut off.

Tabitha admired it, popping the cut-off bread crusts into her mouth as she wrapped the sandwich for Hannah snug in a wax paper sheet and then fit it into the lunchbox.

Hannah’s school lunch went into the fridge, with the top of the lunchbox propped open so that the contents would stay cool. Then, Tabitha collected her toast, spoiled herself with a very small glass of orange juice—a guilty pleasure that she did not remember enjoying often back at the Moore household—and got ready to leave. The compulsion to check for the time on her bracelet PC or smartphone had been suppressed in the past half-year, and so a confirming glance at the VCR’s digital readout was enough. Tabitha slipped on her shoes, tied then tight, and then drew the oversized hoodie on over her head and donned the camouflage winter coat.

Tabitha swore, jolting her hand back from the doorknob in a fluster.

Cursing and grumbling to herself as quietly as she could, Tabitha hurried back down the hallway to her room to retrieve the new beach towel.

“Uh, hey,” This time one of the other teens at the bus stop seemed to notice her presence. “Sorry if this is weird, but—you’re right?”

“I am,” Tabitha put on the composed smile she had practiced and pulled her good hand out of her coat pocket to offer it. “You are—?”

“Uh, David,” The guy said, somewhat clasping her hand and then releasing it rather than performing anything like a handshake. “Did you just move here? To this neighborhood, I mean.”

“Kind of, yeah,” Tabitha confirmed.

“Cool, cool,” David nodded.

He didn’t appear to think up anything else to say, and with the other two kids waiting at the curb just sort of watching but not volunteering to introduce themselves or speak up, Tabitha couldn’t think of anything to say, either. They waited another awkward couple of minutes out in the cold for the bus to arrive, and by the time it showed up and they filed up onto it, Tabitha found that she had forgotten the guy’s name.

“Sup, Gary called.

“Sup, Tabitha shot back in turn, offering him a lopsided smirk instead of a smile—her normal smiles weren’t the right temperature to use with Gary. “Did you save me a seat?”

“Yeah, got one for right there,” Gary’s hand holding the ball pointed a finger across from him. “Saved it for you.”

“Thanks, Tabitha shuffled forward as the people in front of her found places to sit and then dropped into the offered empty bench.

That was it.

No one seemed particularly in the mood for conversation today, and the bus rumbled on through its route with its passengers mostly silent. The flavor of silence seemed to be rather than so Tabitha kept to herself and looked out the window. Driveways, hedges, and mailboxes drifted by at a sedate pace as they traversed the neighborhood, and she wondered why she had been psyching herself up for difficult conversation, clever comebacks, and witty retorts.

Tabitha wanted to laugh at herself.

Just like yesterday, when her pre-prepared line was on the forefront of her thoughts and the tip of her tongue as her fourteen year old brain to deliver a clever line at just the right moment and seem cool, this morning the quote was front and center. Making a funny reference and—hopefully—earning a laugh out of her peers would be super worth it, and for long giddy moments Tabitha fantasized about saying it as just the perfect time and impressing everyone.

Tabitha felt her cheeks grow hot with unwelcome self-awareness.

She was the King of the Hill cartoon was already airing by the time of 1999, because for whatever reason she mentally lumped it in with The Simpsons. However, she had been wrong before about things like this, and it was just an extremely strange area to have room for doubts. Tabitha suspected that Futurama and Family Guy weren’t airing yet, and she knew American Dad was a ways off after them. Part of being popular—or at least, —was keeping a finger on the pulse of popular culture. Knowing current events and being able to remark upon them, being with what was going on with their lives right now.

Tabitha wanted to hang her head and cry.

“Damnit, Bobby,” Tabitha muttered again under her breath.

The problem with witty lines was that they either came to her when she needed them, or they didn’t. Outside of a handful she was able to mentally flag and practice and keep at the forefront of her mind, it felt like she was often groping in the darkness for something clever to say. She something clever to say, because without that it felt like she had nothing to bring to the table socially.

Tabitha told herself.

She was on a first-name basis with Gary and Jacob, who were ostensibly the loud on her bus. Before classes and at lunch she had close friends to hang out with in Alicia and Elena. Most of her actual class periods didn’t offer much leeway for actual socialization with peers, but for the two that did, she maybe had a new friend with Vanessa. Vanessa was outgoing, which maybe made her a popular girl?

The correlation between ‘outgoing’ and ‘popular’ in Tabitha’s mind was less murky than it had been throughout her first semester here, and the key to it all seemed to be ‘consensus.’ Maybe Vanessa was outgoing but popular—which probably would mean there was beef with some of the unquestionably popular cliques of girls, and their word was that Vanessa was lame. Or, perhaps having enemies—rivals?—was what would Vanessa was technically popular, because it would mean everyone knew who she was and that she was a topical subject.

Tabitha’s head felt like it was spinning trying to wrap her mind around

Tabitha realized she was throughout Springton High already, just rather than conventional popularity… it was more as though her name had become sewer sluice for the vulgarities of the teenage rumor mill. Everyone knew there was an extremely antagonistic relationship there between Tabitha and Erica Taylor, but no one seemed clear on the details of and were perfectly happy to invent all sorts of outlandish reasons on their own.

Her current image had invited plenty of problems as well, because her dramatic weight loss and beauty makeover for the start of high school had immediately put her on despite Tabitha not having quite learned how to fly yet—socially speaking. Tabitha decided that she had tried to run before learning how to walk, and the benefit of hindsight made it more clear on how and why and where she had stumbled and fallen.

Tabitha thought, displacing her weariness and embarrassment with determination.

“Damn, you alright?” Gary called over.

“Huh?” Tabitha blinked in surprise.

“You looked all—I dunno,” Gary chuckled. “Pissed off, or something?”

“Oh, no,” Tabitha blushed furiously. “Just trying to—you know. Psych myself up, for today.”

“Psych yourself up?” Gary’s eyebrows went up as he rolled his ever-present basketball back and forth between his palms.

“For what?” Jacob asked, calling over from one of the other seats.

“Just, you know,” Tabitha floundered. “School? Coming back to school, it’s hard. I’ve, uh, ‘til yesterday I was just like, staying at home all day and chilling? Not waking up early. Not having to deal with people. I was out of school for a couple months.”

Her sputtered explanation felt like it was full of holes—it was fabricated on the spot and felt like it was as much lie as it was truth. She wanted an excuse that was relatable, but then she was also terrified to convey the reality of her actual social anxiety, and couching it all in something more blase like ‘having to deal with people’ seemed like the best way to present it. To her relief, Jacob and Gary didn’t seem to really care.

“Damn, a Jacob scoffed. “I’m jealous.”

“You didn’t hear ‘bout all that?” Gary smirked and gave his friend a side-eyed look while still facing Tabitha. “She got jumped by Erica, at some party. Erica Taylor.”

“Jumped?” Jacob repeated, looking towards Tabitha with new interest.

“She um,” Tabitha’s head swam with different phrasings and explanations for a moment as she struggled to decide what to clarify. “She thought that we could maybe resolve our differences using violence? Hah ha. Smashed my skull in with a bat, I uh, I had to have surgery because my. My uh. I had a bleed in my brain that wouldn’t stop.”

revelation turned a large batch of heads in her direction, and it suddenly went from being a small chat between a few people to staring at her. There was a bolt of fear at suddenly feeling like she was in the center of attention, but then also she felt a little baffled. Hadn’t they already more or less gone over this yesterday? Tabitha felt like she had brought up the ordeal and they had chuckled about it, but right here in the moment she couldn’t recall quite what was said back then.

“No shit?” Jacob leaned forward. “Like, for real?”

“Uhh, yeah,” Tabitha gave everyone a shy smile. “They had to operate and everything. Endoscopic ventriculostomy. See?”

Despite carefully arranging her hair this morning to conceal the fuzzy section that had been shaved for surgery, Tabitha now tilted her head and carefully drew her hair back to expose it to them. The stitches themselves she couldn’t quite see properly herself in a mirror because of their position, but from gingerly probing the area with her fingertips she knew the cratered awkward of them putting her head back together after opening her up was there.

“Whoaaa, damn,” Gary mouthed in surprise, shucking himself forward on the bus bench so that he could see better.

“That looks Jacob remarked, leaning almost the whole way over one of the benchbacks to get a closer look.

“Gee, thanks,” Tabitha gave them an awkward smile, brushing her hair back into place over it.

Almost everyone on the bus was staring in her direction, now.

“But, uh—yeah,” Tabitha pretended not to notice everyone’s attention. “Actually withdrew from school just when Chris Thompson uh, he fractured my wrist, and I was gonna come back to finish the semester maybe, but… yeah. Hospitalized again! You know how it is.”

“Naw, hell naw—that ain’t even right,” Gary scowled, shaking his head.

Jacob agreed, looking Tabitha up and down again and seeming to reevaluate her. “S’like everyone was out to just fuck you up.”

“Yeah, like—what’s the deal?” Another guy spoke up. It seemed to be the same teen from Tabitha’s bus stop who had introduced himself to her today, but to her vexation Tabitha was still blanking on his name.

“What’s the story with all that?”

“With Chris, I don’t know,” Tabitha gave them an expressive shrug of her shoulders. “I’d, ah, I’d never even met him before. They brought him over to uh, to apologize to me the very next day, and that was the first time I even met him.”

“For real?” Jacob asked.

“Then what about with Erica?” Someone from the seats behind her asked.

Tabitha turned in place to see who, but she couldn’t tell—it was a sea of unfamiliar faces, teenage boys and girls alike, everyone back there was now watching intently for her answer.

“That’s… a long story,” Tabitha put on a small smile for them. “I used to be friends with her little sister, way back before—like, partway through middle school. But, then—well, it’s a long story, and uh, we’re almost there?”

Anyone glancing out the windows could see they were pulling in for the last turn towards Springton High and on Tabitha herself felt completely torn. It was important, no— that she be the one to start personally clarifying what had happened and dispel the mess of rumor and hearsay. But, at the same time, it didn’t feel completely right to simply air out all of the Taylor family’s dirty laundry and shunt all of that negative attention Ashlee’s way.

Tabitha was mindful enough to hide the grimace that wanted to emerge from everyone’s stares.

Clarissa wandered past her old morning haunt like a ghost, giving the worn concrete planter along the edge of Springton High’s front commons a long look. Before the first bell she used to stand there with her close friends, that used to be to meet up and talk. Now, no one stood there. Madison and Leah hung out in the rear quad over by the music building now, and their judging looks were too heavy for Clarissa to bear enduring. Bailey stood with a new mixed group of teenagers over by the other end of the front commons, and pretended not to notice Clarissa existed. She was apparently too busy laughing and chatting and having a great time with her new classmates, for Bailey it was as if she didn’t even remember that Clarissa and her had once been close.

To simply say that it hurt would be to fundamentally misunderstand Clarissa and the world she lived in. It wasn’t just pain and loss—without her stupid stereotypical friendships Clarissa knew she she didn’t have motions to go through, she didn’t have a routine or things to look forward to or things to think about. As superficial and ultimately shallow as her friendships had been, they had been the framework for and the silly empty smiles and banal, overexcited had meant everything to her. Clarissa had to cope, she’d tried to intrude upon different groups of similar girls, or start to lean into different acquaintances—to test the waters and see if she could fish out more of a friendship somewhere.

Everyone shut her out.

Awkward silences, derisive looks, and jokes at her expense were there everywhere she turned. Clarissa remembered Amber exchanging glances of amusement with the rest of her little squad, looks of or as if mocking Clarissa’s sheer shameless audacity in trying to talk to them. Rachel and Carrie, directly laughing in her face—snorting, reflexive bursts of humiliating laughter that had Clarissa immediately make an excuse and leave.

She’d grown used to locking her jaw in a rigid expression to keep from crying at school, but every day once she got home the tears started, and it would just be hours sobbing in her room. Sobbing out rage and anger until all of her energy was spent, with only the company of her beanie babies arranged along their special shelf. Clarissa had been to make amends, even going to apologize in person to Tabitha at a Halloween party—and just when everything there seemed to be looking up, Erica Taylor bashed Tabitha’s head in with a bat.

And that was that.

Tabitha’s little group of friends there were understandably distant and gave her the same cold shoulder everyone else did, in the months after that. Springton High wasn’t a large school, and among the freshman class everyone knew now to avoid her. Her life… was over. With the now-familiar hollow feeling of absolute emptiness, Clarissa smoothed out the wrinkles of the oversized hoodie she hid in, and trudged over to the cafeteria, avoiding everyone’s gaze.

It had been a surprise when she discovered Ashlee sitting in the far corner of the cafeteria tables yesterday, and it was a bitter relief to see her there again today. Clarissa wasn’t sure she even liked Ashlee. The girl was a seething and unfriendly ball of spite, a scowling and embittered teenage girl who had basically already given up on ever forming companionships with others. That drew Clarissa in and also it repelled her, that hateful malice for everyone and everything spoke to her on a deep level, and also she found it incredibly abhorrent and off-putting. She didn’t friends like Ashlee, and if this girl was her only option left… then she’d rather just have no friends at all.

Having decided to avoid Ashlee and not speak with her again, Clarissa watched without interest or emotion as her trudging footsteps carried her over to the corner table where Ashlee was anyways, and without surprise or feeling much of anything at all she sat down next to her.

“Hey,” Clarissa said.

“Hey,” Ashlee grunted back. “It’s stupid cold out.”

“Yeah,” Clarissa agreed. “It really is.”

They sat in silence for a minute after that, and after a bit it occurred to Clarissa that they were both simply observing everyone else in the lunch room. There was an unspoken solidarity there as outsiders as they each stared out at the kids sitting at other tables, chatting and smiling and enjoying the presence of other people with conversation. Joking with one another, or expressing exasperation as they retold some series of events, or griped about homework while unzipping a bookbag to fish out worksheets.

“Tabitha’s in my sixth period class,” Clarissa finally volunteered. “I’m at her table for art.”

“Tabitha?” Ashlee repeated.

“Yeah. Tabitha Moore.”

“Mister Peterson?” Ashlee asked. “I have him second period. It sucks.”

“Yeah. I’m not uh. Artistic, or anything.”

“Me neither. It sucks.”

Clarissa didn’t want to sit with Ashlee, and she suspected Ashlee didn’t want her sitting here either, but… here they were. It was as if the high school world and its various groups of socializing teenagers were an incomprehensible maze of barriers, and these two sitting here were the laboratory rats that just weren’t smart enough to find their way through. So, here they were. Stuck here together, with no way out.

“Hey, -lee,” a girl’s voice interrupted them.

They both turned to see an intimidating tall girl with dark hair—obviously one of the seniors—stride down the row of tables towards them while clutching a large book against her modest chest. The older girl had a figure that was more slender than sexy, but her height, her earrings and necklace, and the way she layered a tight tee overtop a long-sleeved shirt made her appear smart, mature, and very for a high schooler.

Clarissa recognized the girl as Brittney Taylor immediately. She recognized her not only because Brittney was one of the pretty, popular ones at the very top of Springton High… but because like herself, Brittney was one of the few who had been served a five-day suspension over the incident, just a few months ago. at Springton High knew about all of that by now, but unlike the freshman Clarissa who had her life ruined—losing her close friends refusing to sell them out to the school deans—both Kaylee the sophomore and Brittney as a senior seemed able to brush off the events and resume their life at school with their reputations virtually unaffected, their social circles intact.

Clarissa felt herself tense up.

“Thought I Ashlee groused in a mocking voice. “Isn’t that what you told me?”

It was easy to see that while Clarissa felt a little on guard at being approached by Brittney, Ashlee’s body had practically gone rigid. The girl sitting beside her had her shoulders hunched up defensively, she’d subconsciously shifted over in her seat more towards Clarissa, and the backpack that had been casually hugged against herself was now in a strangling chokehold.

“Yeah, so?” Brittney shrugged, opening up the book. “You don’t talk about me, don’t say hi—and if anyone asks, we’re not really sisters, hah. Right? But, Had to borrow somebody’s yearbook just now, so that you can check on something for me. So hey, did you see… At Tabitha’s birthday party?”

Clarissa surreptitiously peeked over Ashlee’s shoulder as Brittney leaned in with the yearbook and tapped a finger at one of the rows of portraits spread across the page. The faces were all young, looking to be twelve or thirteen, and a quick glance up above the margin revealed the heading to be

“I don’t know,” Ashlee huffed. “Which one? And—who cares?”

retard,” Brittney jabbed the face of a boy labeled with a painted fingernail. “Maybe try pointing your eyes at it, please? Hah. This guy, right here.

“Uhh,” Ashlee balked at answering. “Yeah? I guess. He was there. I remember him from when they were doing presents—yeah, he was sitting there with us.”

“Okay, Brittney snapped. “I really appreciate it, thank you! Was that so fucking hard? Now, hold on more second, pretty pretty please…”

Brittney wet her fingertip and then angrily flipped through the yearbook pages, and then traced down the rows until settling on a girl’s face and pointing insistently at the printed smile.

“Well? What about her?” Brittney asked with an impatient look. “Was she there? At that party.”

“No?” Ashlee scrutinized the smiling middle school portrait of one but shook her head. “I didn’t see her. But, what do you care?”

Brittney clapped the yearbook closed right in her little sister’s face, with enough force that the ensuing puff of displaced air blew back Ashlee’s bangs and made the girl flinch. “None of your business, shitstain. But, hey, Really appreciate it.”

Clarissa realized, wondering if she should speak up.

“What was all about? Ashlee scoffed, and the girl turned to watch her older sister stalk off on her long legs. “Psycho…”

“Tabitha… invited Michael to her birthday party,” Clarissa began to try to explain in a hesitant voice. “Um. I think because, Michael was the one to tackle Erica off of Tabitha, back then? At the Halloween thing. But, Michael and Olivia dating, so—so, I guess, Brittney’s probably going to try to stir up some drama or make Olivia jealous or pissed off, or—you know. Set her against Tabitha. Since Olivia still likes Michael, even though they ‘broke up.’”

It turned out to be more than she had intended volunteering all at once, and for an awkward moment Clarissa wondered if she should have just kept her mouth shut.

it’s all so stupid,” Ashlee scowled, shaking her head. “But, serves Tabitha right, I guess? Stupid ‘popular people’ made-up crap. They’re all super phony, and it’s all B.S. anyways. Total garbage. could ever love anyone but themselves. They’re all so full of it!”

“Yeah, I guess..” Clarissa eyed Ashlee, but decided not to say anything else.

Being in the unique position to recognize all of the important details as this developing situation unfolded was thrilling, but at the same time being cut off from her old group of friends took some of the wind out of Clarissa’s sails. She was all of the sudden privy to about what was going on, but didn’t have anyone she trusted enough to easily share that with. It was an altogether tragic feeling, because she was on the edge of her seat with excitement about this—it finally felt like something was poking through the dreary lethargy of her hopeless high school existence.

Clarissa felt inexplicably torn.

That sense of uneasiness in the pit of her stomach worsened, and Clarissa couldn’t help but frown. Upon recovering from her traumatic injuries, Tabitha had extended her the olive branch and offered her friendship, even making sure to invite Clarissa to her birthday party. The party had been strange. Clarissa didn’t feel like Ashlee apparently felt, but she did feel… ignored? Which she wasn’t sure was fair, as obviously the birthday stuff was supposed to revolve around Tabitha—not her.

Clarissa pondered.

Was it on Tabitha to be making those overtures, when she was the apparent victim of Clarissa’s actions in the first place? Clarissa wasn’t sure that was a fair expectation to have either, she had just subconsciously expected some of friendship and familiarity to fall into place, like she used to have with Madison, Leah, and Bailey. When that didn’t materialize, it was easy to push her mindset more towards the one Ashlee espoused, to take it as an intentional slight.

Clarissa tried to feel outraged again.

Except also—Clarissa remember the look of fear and loss Tabitha had that day back in October when they had swiped her binder. Madison and Leah both had Algebra there with her, and in their opinion Tabitha was just this stuck up bitch with all kinds of nasty rumors, who was too snooty to talk to anyone. Leah kept insisting that she heard someone say that even the cast on her arm was fake, that sure yeah maybe Chris pushed her and she got a normal tiny sprain, but that there was no way she’d like that. With everything people were saying about Tabitha back then, it seemed plausible enough.

Only, Tabitha wasn’t faking the pain and vulnerability at all back then. Clarissa remembered the sudden alarming flash of guilt upon seeing Tabitha choke up at realizing her binder had been stolen, and Clarissa even remembered exchanging a quick panicked glance with Madison, where they saw in each other’s eyes. Sure, by then it was too late to undo what they’d done and they needed to latch onto the narrative and insist they weren’t really the ones at fault, but that brief glimpse of Tabitha’s real pain still haunt her.

Clarissa grit her teeth.

Clarissa had been forced to swallow down anger and outrage yesterday when Tabitha put on her sanctimonious act and implied that Clarissa’s old friends had just been using her, or having her act as their scapegoat, or that they had thrown her under the bus. So what if those had all been Clarissa’s thoughts in the past month? That didn’t mean had the right to say that, and on some level Tabitha putting on some righteous act about was super galling.

Clarissa shot another quick look at Ashlee, sizing the girl up.

“Ughh,” Clarissa shifted in her seat, uncomfortable in her own skin.

“...You okay?” Ashlee gave her a suspicious look.

It wasn’t a look of concern, and Clarissa had to remind herself that right now, her and Ashlee still weren’t actually friends. Ashlee was subtly shrinking back and regarding her with wariness, as if she expected the next words out of Clarissa’s mouth to be remarks about the way her sister put her down, or that Clarissa was also going to poke fun at her and belittle her, or maybe that Clarissa was going to start showing support for Tabitha, and argue with Ashlee about it.

“I, I uh…” Clarissa said.

Tabitha had told her yesterday.

Those words rang painfully true, because while Clarissa felt pretty desperate for friendship, in her eyes Ashlee had gone almost feral from the constant and unceasing cruelties she seemed to face. Tabitha’s compassionate take on the situation with Ashlee, even when Tabitha have been hostile towards the girl made Clarissa lean towards siding with Tabitha. Side with Tabitha, by choosing to be friends with Ashlee, when Ashlee obviously needed a friend.

“I… I think I’m going to throw up?” Clarissa admitted with a nervous laugh.

The bell for first period began to intone over the school cafeteria’s speakers, and everyone started to rise out of their seats.