Page 70 of First Surrender

I’m almost done with the peanut butter when the front door swings open and Ricky walks in. He takes one look at me but doesn’t say hi. He’s not very nice. He never talks to me.

“Nicole!” He finds Mommy down the hall and they go into their room together while I eat my sandwich alone at the table. Mommy’s sits on a paper towel beside me.

It’s still sitting in the same spot the next morning when I’m getting ready for school. The bread is crusty but I pack it in my backpack anyway. If I ask real nice then the lunch lady might give me a new one. She usually does.

Ten years old…

“Mom!” She’s sleeping on the couch, her head lying on the arm of the sofa at a weird angle.

“What, Nat?” She grumbles but doesn’t open her eyes.

“Someone’s at the door. They’re asking for money.”

“Oh, hell.” She pushes herself up and crosses the living room. We’re in a trailer now, one owned by someone else. I’m not even sure who. I don’t know if she knows either. “What can I do for you, sir?” She asks the man standing on the other side of the screen door on the tiny wooden porch as she fluffs her hair.

“No one’s paying the lot fees. You’re behind by four months. I’ve tried being reasonable seeing you’ve got a child and all, but I run a business here. Someone needs to be payin’.”

“There must be some sort of misunderstanding, truly. My boyfriend’s driving a truck and won’t be back for another two weeks. He said he’d been calling and trying to pay.” From my spot across the room, I can tell she’s lying.

There hasn’t been a boyfriend here. It’s the only place we’ve lived in a long time where we don’t have to share it with a man.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. That’s not the case. If no one pays, you’ll have to leave.”

“Is there anything that I can do for you, instead? I clean. I’ll clean your house for free if you’d like.”

He looks at her closely, his eyes traveling the length of her. My mom’s a pretty woman even though she looks so tired all thetime. Everybody always says it’s a shame I didn’t get her blonde hair or blue eyes. I used to like my brown hair but not much anymore.

My mom told me that I looked like my dad. I’ve never met him because she said he was no good. She wouldn’t tell me about him but she told me how much she hated him.

“Alright, you come clean and we’ll work something out.”

That got us another month in the trailer but we were moving again after that.

Fifteen years old…

“Connor, I don’t want to go to the party. I want to go home.” My date ignores my plea, driving the opposite way from my apartment building. Mom doesn’t know that I went to homecoming. She told me I didn’t deserve to go because I’d been back-talking her so much.

I only talk back because she makes me so angry. I don’t know why she’s made our life so hard. I’ve been at my school for two years and now she’s saying we have to move. I don’t want to move again and I don’t want to change schools. I have two more years of high school left and I’ve made some friends. Life’s been easier with friends.

“We’ll stop at the party for a few minutes to say hi then we’ll leave, I promise.” He puts his hand on my knee while he drives and I don’t hate it, but it’s not super comfortable either. It’s weird to have a boy touch me but he’s the first one who has ever shown me any real attention. He asked me to the dance and to be his girlfriend in the same week.

The party is at someone’s house but I don’t know them. They’re from a different school. There are kids everywhere wearing their homecoming clothes, but I don’t see any parents.

“Are you sure we’re allowed to be here?” I ask Connor as he tugs my hand along.

“Definitely. Come on.” He pulls me down some steps into a basement with fewer people. A few boys drinking beers are sitting around on a sofa.

“Hey, Connor.” One of them holds out his hand and instead of shaking it like I thought, Connor hands him a $20 bill.

“First door on your right.” The boy points to a door and Connor drags me to it.

“What are we doing?”

“Come on, Nat. I wanted us to have some privacy for once.” He pulls me into the half-darkened room. There’s a mattress on the floor and a table lamp in the corner.

“Connor, I don’t want to be in here. I want to go home.”

“Come on, sit with me for a minute. I only want to talk.” He pats the bed and I sit down stiffly.

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