Page 1 of Curves for the Crass (Rejected 8)

Prologue

Canaan

Seven Years Old:

“You’re so brave. You’re going to be hell on wheels when you are older, aren’t you?” my dad asks me, chuckling as he wipes the blood from my knee, then loads me into the car to head home. I fell on the sidewalk, trying to run from some of the older kids near the convenience store. They like to pick on me because they know I don’t belong. I never belong. I told my dad it was from playing a game of baseball with some other kids and sliding into home.

“Dad?” I ask from the passenger seat of his old beat-up car.

“I thought we were moving out of the trailer park. I thought you said we would live in a nice house with a picket fence and a dog. You promised,” I say, looking down at my too-short pants and ripped t-shirt. I’ve had these clothes for as long as I can remember and I grew out of them ages ago, but we can’t afford new ones.

“I know Canaan. I know I promised we would be out of there by now, but I just have one more job to do, okay? Just one more, and then we will be out of this life,” he says excitedly.

I’ve heard that before, though. Over and over again. Whenever mama or I ask him when he will finally live up to the promises he’s been making all my life, he tells us the next big job is our way out.

When we get back to the trailer park, I see some boys playing in the woods near the back, and I look up excitedly. I’ve seen them around, but they are usually running away, or I get too nervous to go over there, but today feels different. For once, I want to be brave like my dad thinks I am.

“Hey, dad, I’m going to play with those kids over there,” I tell him before hopping out of the car. He barely spares me a glance, since he’s probably high on the adrenaline from his work. People call him a conman, but my dad just calls himself resourceful. I don’t care what he does. He’s still my dad, and I love him.

I make my way over to the boys tossing a basketball back and forth. They see me approach, and I slow my stride, getting more nervous the closer I get. When I’m finally in front of them, I wave awkwardly.

“Uh, hi. My name is Canaan,” I tell them. They just stare at me for a long time until I realize I probably won’t ever belong here either. The dirtiest, poorest place in town still isn’t good enough for me.

“That your dad?” the biggest one asks, pointing at the car I just ran from.

“Umm yeah,” I say, shuffling my feet.

“He stole money from my dad,” he says simply.

Well, just great. Not only won’t I ever have friends or belong, but I’m also going to get beat up for my dad’s schemes.

“I… I didn’t know. I… I’m sorry,” I stutter, backing away. I don’t want to get into another fight, but the boy surprises me by shrugging.

“Good. Glad someone got him. I don’t like my dad. Names Dean. This is Alec, Joey, and Landon. Griffin and Parker are coming out later. Want to play with us?”

Huh, so this is what it feels like to find my place. It’s… everything.

Chapter One

Mercedes

“Mercedes, if you guys don’t leave within the next five minutes, you will be late,” my mom hollers from the kitchen as I finish tying my hair up into a messy bun.

It’s nearly impossible to do anything with the curly mess, and that’s when I don’t sleep with it damp. I was too lazy last night to blow dry it, which would have taken at least an hour. So I slept with it wet. Biiiiiiiggg mistake. One I am definitely regretting right now, especially with it being the first day at a brand new school. Not to mention my senior year. There may only be a couple months before graduation, but this will be the last school transfer I’ll ever have to make.

“Mercedes, let’s go. I refuse to be late on my first day of high school,” my brother says, banging on my door.

I smile at his eagerness. It won’t be long until he realizes high school sucks, and so does everyone in it. You are ostracized, picked on, and beat down if you don’t fit into the cookie-cutter mold. It’s just a living hell. Then again, everyone loves my brother. Hell, even our parents see him as the best person to walk this planet, and I can’t blame them. Since they brought him home from the hospital, I’ve looked at him the same way. He was perfect and so small. I knew I needed to look after him. He’s my everything.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my parents, but they just don’t look at me the same way they do my brother. He’s the perfect child, and I’m… lacking. I’m a bigger girl; my waist is a size sixteen, whereas my mother is a size four. I have wild curly dark hair, while my family all has straight. They are all so neat and put together. Again, I’m just found lacking. I don’t seem to belong in this family, hell in this world. My brother is the only one who actually thinks I’m worth something, and I don’t have the heart to tell him how wrong he is.

I walk out of my room and head downstairs. I can hear my mother fussing over my brother.

“Oh, Mija, I can’t believe you’ve grown so much. My baby is in high school, ay Dios mio!” she gushes. I chuckle as my brother rolls his eyes and tries to escape the cheek-pinching and kisses.

“Mama, we are going to be late,” Mateo says, finally breaking my mother’s hold on him.

“You going to let me smother you in kisses, too, Mercedes?” my mother jokes, walking up to me. “Oh, this move has stressed you out a bit, huh? Maybe you should have a salad at school instead of the pizza you always get.”

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