Page 6 of Rio's Release

ME: Do you miss your dad?

JENNY: Fuck him. Mom says he’s already moved in with his girlfriend. The one he denied having all this time. What a dick. Men suck

I stare at the phone. I don’t want to think that all men suck. I still hang onto that little girl, Cinderella fantasy. I need to hang onto the hope that someday I’ll find a good man. One to swoop me up and take me away from this awful life in this stupid little town I’ve come to hate. Not that I know any different. I’ve never been out of the state. With that thought, an idea pops into my head.

ME: Maybe we could leave town together. We could go to California and see the ocean

JENNY: And live off what? All I’ve ever done is wait tables. I hear it’s really expensive out there

ME: It can’t be worse than here. I hate this town

JENNY: Me too. Don’t worry. We’ll think of something. Hey, we need to plan something for your birthday. You’ll be a big, cool eighteen-year-old. You’ll have two days off for the holiday weekend, right?

My birthday. It’ll be the second one without my mom. I’m sure my father won’t remember, and to tell the truth, I don’t want him to. I used to love my birthdays. Mom always made them special. Now the thought of it depresses me.

ME: Yes, the bank will be closed

JENNY: Maybe we can go to the mountains. It’ll be cooler up there. I have enough money for gas. It’ll be fun. They’re having an art festival this weekend. We can stay with my aunt

ME: Maybe

A moment later, my phone rings. It’s Jenny.

“Hey,” I say sullenly.

“You sound down-in-the-dumps. I know what you need. Ice cream. I’ll pick you up and take you to Blitzy’s. My treat since it’s your birthday week. You can get one of those shake-things with the mini peanut butter cups inside.”

“It’s not a shake, Jenny. You eat it with a spoon.”

“Whatever. You want one. You know you do. I’ll be in front of your house in ten minutes.”

The television blares from downstairs. I really don’t want to be here. “Okay. Fine.”

“See you in a few.”

After hanging up, I slip into a pair of cutoff shorts, a tank top, and sandals, then lean over the bathroom sink to dab some makeup over my bruising face. Returning to my room, I drop to the bed and watch out the window for Jenny’s car. I see her pull to the curb, and I grab my purse and dash down the stairs and out the door.

“Where are you going?” my father bellows, and I hear his recliner snap upright before the screen door slams behind me. I sprint across the lawn and jump in the front seat. Glancing back, I see my father at the door.

“Get back here!” he yells.

“Go. Go!” I tell Jenny, and she hits the gas, laughing and leaning across me to flip him off. I grab her hand and shove it down. “Have you lost your mind? I have to go home later.”

She twists her head and takes in my cheek. “That son-of-a-bitch. He hit you again, didn’t he?”

I don’t have to confirm it. She knows.

“You don’t have to go back there. Stay at my house.”

“I don’t have any of my clothes.”

“We can come back tomorrow when he goes to the tire store.” She looks over at me, suddenly all serious. “I mean it, Shelby. We can move all your stuff into my house. You’ll never have to deal with him again. I hate the way he treats you. You shouldn’t have to put up with it.”

I stare out my window and feel the familiar sting in my eyes. I blink, refusing to give into the tears. They don’t help.

Jenny squeezes my hand. Somehow, her showing me sympathy just makes it that much harder to hold it together. Jenny knows me to a tee, and she knows just what I need right now.

“Hey, guess what my little brother did today? He washed our dog in my baby sister’s kiddie pool.”

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