Page 8 of Every Breath

The road to redemption was sure going to be a long one.

On the bus ride to school, DJ Evans was having a hard time trying to bring his sister around to his way of thinking. He scowled at her in exasperation. She just didn’t seem to get it.

“How many times do I have to tell you? If Uncle Rodney marries Mom, we’re going to be miserable.”

“I don’t think so. He’s not so bad. He always buys us ice cream and he bought me that Barbie doll I wanted.”

“Don’t be such a dummy! He’s just being nice to us because of Mom.” DJ fought back the urge to shake some sense into his twin.

“I am not a dummy. You are a cretin!” Mya tossed one long braid over her shoulder.

“You don’t even know what that word means. I know you got that from the movie you weren’t supposed to watch.” He smirked.

“I do so know what it means.”

“What does it mean, then?” Why were girls always pretending they were so much smarter when they weren’t?

“It means you’re a fathead. You always give Uncle Rodney such a hard time. You’re just jealous.”

“That’s not true. I just don’t like him. Anyway, he’s not as nice as Dad was.”

“No one is as nice as Daddy was, but Uncle Rodney makes Mommy smile.”

“If Mom marries him, I’m going to run away.”

“Now you’re just being crazy. Where would you go?”

DJ didn’t give it a lot of thought up until now. “I’m not sure, but somewhere warm. I can get a job and a nice apartment.”

Mya rolled her eyes. “You don’t know anything.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“You shut up! You’re not the boss of me just because you’re ten minutes older. I like Uncle Rodney and I don’t care what you say.” She turned away from him to stare out the window, an angry expression on her face.

He sighed, hoping she wouldn’t tattle when they got home.

At the next bus stop, another group of kids got on. The one with a mop of bright red hair caught his glance. DJ had seen him around the playground by himself and felt a little sorry for him. He turned to Mya. “Hey, there’s that new kid Ben. We should talk to him,” he whispered.

“Why? He’s icky. Look at all that red hair.”

“So what? He seems cool.”

“Whatever. You talk to him then.” She turned back toward the window with apparent disinterest.

As the redhead walked by, DJ called to him. “Hi, Ben.”

The boy paused, a look of surprise of his face. “Hi.”

“Why don’t you sit with us? Move over, bubble butt.” He shoved his sister over.

“I don’t have a bubble butt!” she retorted with righteous indignation.

“Come on. Have a seat,” DJ offered, scooting over.

“Thanks.” Ben gave him a shy smile as he sat down.

“I saw you on the playground yesterday. I’m Damon but everyone calls me DJ. This is my sister Mya. She’s a bit of a pain, but she’s okay for a girl.”

---