Page 198 of Scrimmage

That seems to completely confuse her. “What?”

“I’m proud of you.” I shrug. “You got all of them out there in one sentence. Do you feel better?”

She slumps in her chair. “I…I think so."

“Wanna be a cunt with me?”

“Is this some weird way that you offer friendship?”

“I don’t really like the term friends, but cunts sounds good. Sounds better. Cuntiest of the cunts.”

Her eyes flick back and forth, reading my face. When she smiles, it’s bright. It might be the happiest smile I’ve ever seen. She radiates with it.

“Yeah? I think I’d like to be a cunt,” she giggles. It’s sweet. I hate it, but I also want to hear it again like the cheep of a little baby bird.

I grab my gatorade and hold it up to cheers her. “To the Cunts then.”

“To the Cunts of the Century?” She offers her Sprite can.

Somehow this annoying bitch has wormed her way into my stupid rotten heart. I’ve never really had a friend before. Not one that was a girl. Penny is a good person, and I’ve never been around one of those before.

“To the Cunts of the Century,” I confirm, trying to hide a smile, and I clink my plastic against her tin.

Penny. My Cunt. My best friend. She loved me even when I did my best to be the worst. She saw past it and chose positivity instead. Penny was the first person to ever love me that didn’t have to.

My eyes open. There’s light, and it’s so bright that it takes a few moments for them to adjust. When I finally focus, I see my latest horror.

I’m staring into my own eyes.

I blink trying to get my bearings.

“Welcome to the land of the living,” a British accent says. The eyes aren’t mine, but my baby brother’s. He has a stupid grin on his face.

“Sinclair?” I rasp.

“Yeah, Yinny, it’s me.” He pushes my hair out of my face and puts his grubby palms on my cheeks. Always fucking grubby, even now.

A blur of copper to my right catches my attention. I burst back into tears, but Penny is already sobbing. She hovers her hands over me trying to find a way not to hurt me.

“Your hug will make it better,” I promise. She slides into the bed on the other side and curls up against me. And her hug does. It makes it better. It makes everything better.

“I thought you were leaving me,” she sobs.

“What? You’re delusional. Cunts of the Century stick together. I’m not ready to be on cunt probation.”

Sinclair joins in on the hug, just a mass of limbs. It lasts a long time, but it’s never long enough. Penny grabs a glass of water and hovers over me, putting the straw to my lips. I suck some of it down and cough. It feels like I just drank from the fountain of youth. The memories all come back to me in a whir, and I start to cry, even though it fucking hurts.

Sinclair wipes the tears away. “I don’t like when you’re sad. Want me to sing you a song?” That sweet little boy is still in there somewhere.

“Oh, no. Not again.” Penny rolls her eyes.

“Shouldn’t you go get a doctor or something?” Sinclair sticks his tongue out.

She sighs, squeezing my arm. “I’ll be back.”

“So, sis, didja miss me?” Sinclair grins.

“Yeah.” I nod, still crying.

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