Tracy Pitocchelli loves her husband and son, fashion, and trashy TV (not necessarily in that order). Her short
fiction has appeared in print in NEWN magazine and online at www.2ktwelve.com. You can visit her at
http://www.myspace.com/tpitocchelli
fiction has appeared in print in NEWN magazine and online at www.2ktwelve.com. You can visit her at
http://www.myspace.com/tpitocchelli
Music Outside
Melissa heard the music; loud and unfamiliar, before she saw the two guys. They had a boom box and were probably on
their way to the boardwalk. They both had black boots on. One had blond hair, kind of long in the front, and he was wearing
ripped jeans and a flannel shirt with the sleeves cut off. The other one had dark hair that was short and spiky, and his jean
jacket had patches all over it.
"What the hell was that?" Kate laughed as the guys walked past, the music getting softer and disappearing.
Laura shrugged, then looked at Melissa. "What are you looking at?"
Melissa stood up and headed down the porch stairs, ignoring Kate's surprised, "Where are you going?' Barefoot in the
middle of the night, in the middle of the street, she kept walking, sharp steps hitting the road.
Kate and Laura ran to catch up to her, whispering "where is she going?" Melissa didn't stop until they had reached the
arcade.
"What're we doing here?" Laura finally asked as they walked in.
Melissa led them though. Spotting the two guys playing air hockey, she walked by them, keeping her eyes on the middle of
the dark blue table. They were just kind of flicking the disk around, both looking bored, neither playing very hard.
The dark-haired one looked up quick and said, "hi."
Melissa didn't say it back, just smiled and asked Kate for a quarter. Kate handed her one, looking at Laura and shrugging
like maybe that was part of whatever this was.
"Thanks. I just really needed to play Q-bert." Melissa walked over to the machine. Laura and Kate stopped behind her,
watching Melissa make Q-bert change the blue squares to pink and defy the curly snake who tried to change the colors back
again.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Melissa jumped, a result of either her father's voice or the clang as Q-bert fell off
of the pyramid. He grabbed her by the collar of her alligator shirt. Laura and Kate rushed out of the way, probably so that
he wouldn't have a chance to do that to them, too.
"I asked you a question," he growled, still holding her, dragging her towards the door. Melissa turned back. She didn't see
her dark-haired boy anywhere. Hopefully they finished up their game and left.
She couldn't think of how to say it, that the boys had looked interesting, but that wasn't why. Not exactly. It was hard to
explain. Things with Kate and Laura were strange so far. She hadn't seen them since last summer, and she couldn't just be
like, "hi," because she had no idea what they did last week, let alone whether General Hospital was still Kate's favorite soap,
or whether Laura still listened to cassettes of songs she taped off the radio. When they called her "Missy," she'd said, "It's
Misty now," because she and her best friend at school, Stacy, had decided to call themselves "Misty" and "Tace". Laura had
looked over at Kate, who'd shrugged and looked like she was trying not to crack up laughing. It was like if she had had to
sit on the porch with them for another second, she might have started screaming and never, ever stopped.
Kate and Laura were whispering again. Melissa wished she knew what they were saying, and she wished that her father
would let her go, All of her friends had always thought that he was the coolest dad because he wore Levis and Nike
sneakers, that her mom was always yelling at him for trying to outrun Camaros and Trans Ams in his cream-colored Monte
Carlo. They couldn't be more wrong; here was obvious proof of that.
"Bye, Misty," Kate called, making the "t" sound kind of hard. Laura whispered something to her, and this time, Melissa was
kind of glad that she couldn't make it out.
In the morning, when everyone went down to the beach, Melissa stayed up on the deck, looking away until she had to squint
her eyes and look really hard to spot the light green umbrella with the fringe that Laura's grandmother always brought.
"I thought your father was going to kill you," Kate said, climbing up the stairs. She claimed a spot next to her on her pink
towel. Melissa didn't tell her that her mom had been waiting for them when they got back, still holding the pink plastic cup
that she'd had with her at Laura's. "What were you thinking?" she had asked. "What kind of girl are you, that you just go
chasing after some boy you don't even know?"
She had tried to answer, but her dad shoved his finger in her face and said, "I don't want to hear it, young lady", and when
she was quiet they asked what she had to say for herself and it wasn't until she finally lost it completely and started sobbing
uncontrollably that they finally gave up and sent her to bed.
"Did you and Laura get in trouble?" Melissa asked.
"No," Kate answered. "My mom was glad that we were there with you. She said anything could've happened."
Melissa snapped again. 'I wish everyone would stop saying that!" She was practically yelling. "I'm so sick of hearing it! Like
happening is such a bad thing, anyway!"
"What' is your problem?" Kate shook her head, getting up to leave.
Melissa's sister, Julia, came bounding up the stairs. "Are you gonna come down?" She was seven, and way too young to
understand anything, that it was fine, that Melissa didn't care one bit if she never moved from this porch for the rest of the
summer, if her feet never touched the water, if she ever got another suntan in her life.
Julia was in the same bathing suit they'd both tried on, the royal blue one with all of the straps. It was fine on Julia,
according to their dad, but on Melissa, it was "too showy," whatever that meant. "Absolutely not," he'd said. "Go take it
off." She had wanted to scream that it wasn't fair, but instead she got dressed and refused to even look at any of the other
suits that her mother held up, and had gone outside while they paid for Julia's at the register.
It was okay, though. She still had her green two-piece from last year, and it still fit, better, actually, except she kept having
to pull up the strings on the bottom and when she walked out of her room in it her father asked her what she was planning
to wear over it. Mom had shot him a look and then later, in Melissa's room, she told her that they had to be patient with
him, that he was having a hard time with her growing up.
"He can't even look at me," Melissa had shrieked. "It's like he thinks I'm too ugly to live!" Mom reached for her hair,
promising that wasn't it; he didn't think that at all. Melissa didn't believe her and she pulled away.
"What's up, Miss?'
When she opened her eyes, it was Laura's older brother Rich. His red swim trunks made him look like a little kid, with the
bottoms flowing out like a little skirt over his skinny legs. He probably had no clue how stupid it looked, but maybe he did,
and for a second Melissa wished she were a guy.
"Hello," she said, formally, already annoyed.
He asked what she was doing but it was so obvious that she didn't feel the need to answer him and just looked away.
"You catching some rays?" He asked. Obviously, he'd heard that expression somewhere and had been just waiting for the
chance to use it on someone.
Last year, on the first night here, her parents and Julia had gone to bed early and every time Melissa shifted on her sheets
the sound was much, much too loud. She usually couldn't sleep the first few nights of vacation, anyway. It was hard
getting used to the sounds, the ocean and people laughing instead of crickets and cars driving by.
Melissa had gotten out of bed, flung up the latch on the screen door and walked out onto the back steps. It surprised her
like always when the concrete was cold against her toes, expecting it to still be sun-scorched under her blistered feet.
She went by Laura's, because they usually stayed up at least late enough for Johnny's monologue but the place was
completely dark and her mom's car wasn't there. Usually the first thing that Melissa did was walk to the ocean but this time
she hadn't, so she decided to go now, even if it didn't count, because it would be different without the sun.
She heard tap-tapping on the window as she rounded the corner of the house, and it made her jump but she managed to
keep the scream in her mouth. And then the window opened and Rich called, "Miss!"
"Wait right there," he whispered. It was probably too quiet where he was, too.
"Where's Laura?" Melissa asked when he came outside.
He said she and her mom were coming tomorrow, and then they were both quiet as they walked down to the water. He
stopped before the sand got wet, but she ran right into the water almost up to where the waves broke against her thighs.
"You're crazy!" he called, not trying to be quiet anymore.
"So why'd you come, then?"
"I don't know," he said, sitting down. Melissa could tell he was smiling. She ran back up and sat next to him, her legs
sticking to the sand.
"You look like Shake'n'Bake," he teased.
"Want a bite?' Immediately, she felt her face getting hot and she wished she could swallow the words back in.
Rich looked away, staring into the waves. Melissa thought that maybe she should apologize or something, except that
would just cause it to go on longer, so she didn't. She looked right at him, daring him to make it go away. He just kicked at
the sand and wouldn't look up. Finally he took his T-shirt off and handed it to her. It was light, white or gray, and had a
faded decal from last year. She wiped most of the sand off of her legs and then laid the shirt down and spread them out
over it. The shirt soaked though from where she was still wet.
Rich reached behind his shoulder, trying to scratch himself and getting all twisted up like a pretzel in the process.
"Itchy?" she asked, and then they both laughed. She didn't stop until he did.
"I have this mosquito bite," he explained.
Melissa stood up and then sat behind him with his butt between her legs. He jumped a little the first time she touched him.
"Jesus, Missy, watch it, not that hard! You must have really long nails!"
She slid over, holding her hands out in front of his face. "No, I don't, actually."
He scooched his back to her again. "I didn't say stop."
That was the only thing Melissa could remember when she thought about last year, even though all of the usual things
happened, they must've; fried dough at the Pavilion, the softball game and bonfire on the Fourth of July, promising Laura
that she'd write to her even though neither one of them ever really did.
The only thing that ever came to mind when she tried to picture last summer was that Rich's skin was really soft and he had
this bone in his back that reminded her of a fish. He must've forgotten about that already; after all, it did happen an entire
year ago.
"What do you want?" Melissa finally asked him.
"Nothing, you just look kind of bored," he said, lifting his dark-blue Adidas sneaker onto the railing.
"Well, I'm not." She didn't tell him that that was a really stupid thing to say, because her eyes were closed so how would he
even know?
Melissa heard her dad, who was manning the grill, say, "She's such a good kid." She moved closer to where he was talking
to Laura's dad so that she could listen.
"Yeah, we're really proud of her," Laura's dad answered. Melissa's eyes got all squinty and she felt like yelling at herself, that
it was stupid of her to even think that, even for a second.
"You're doing something right," Melissa's dad said. Melissa wished that she could just turn around in front of everyone and
ask him what that was supposed to mean.
"So, what? You're talking to people tonight?" Rich asked, coming over with Kate.
He started talking about his baseball season and it was probably a continuation of a conversation that the two of them were
having before, but no one clarified and Melissa couldn't follow and it was getting really annoying. Kate's hair was seriously
shiny and her tank top showed off the white straps of her training bra. Maybe she was trying to show everyone that this
was the year that she had "become a woman" and that her body was going through all of these "strange and wonderful
changes." She kept looking up at him and asking all of these questions, and Melissa wondered who she was kidding,
because he was like fifteen years old.
Melissa must have had a weird look on her face or something, because Kate looked up and said, "Missy, what?" Melissa just
shrugged and said that she was going to get a hamburger.
There were only hot dogs and cheeseburgers left on the grill. "There were hamburgers before," Melissa's dad said, stacking
a bunch of buns onto a paper plate. "You should've been paying attention."
"Leave it to me to do everything wrong," Melissa could feel the words getting all stuck together in her throat.
"Don't even start," he said.
"Here," Laura walked over, handing Melissa a plate with a hamburger on an open bun.
"What do you say?" Melissa's father asked her after a minute. Like she was younger than Julia.
"Really, thanks. Thanks a lot," Melissa made it sound extra-appreciative, like Laura had just donated her organs to her or
something.
Laura either ignored it, or didn't notice. "There's ketchup and junk over there," she said, pointing to the card table with the
blue-and-white plastic checkered tablecloth.
Melissa's dad had to get ready to go back into town for work. He started saying goodbye to everyone and he kissed Mom
and asked her to call him, but she said it was a pain in the ass to go to the pay phone with the kids and everything. He said
he understood and he'd see her next weekend and took the beer bottle out of her hand and poured it into a red plastic cup
so she wouldn't get in trouble if the cops came. When he looked over at Melissa, she turned around and walked away, trying
to keep him out of her sight.
Everyone was laughing, calling him "poor bastard." He said someone had to pay for the place, that he wasn't a lucky stiff like
the rest of them, and that he'd see everyone next weekend. He headed out to his car and Melissa followed. He never
turned around, just got in and started the engine. She ran out into the street, stopping right in front of the hood.
He rolled the window down. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
Melissa couldn't answer him, she was crying too hard.
"Now what are you crying for? She kept running, hearing him calling her until she reached the stairs of the cottage. She
stood there until she heard him drive away.
As she started to open the door, someone called, "Hey!" When she turned around, it was the dark-haired boy from the
other night. She managed a wave before she went inside.
The sound of someone knocking woke Melissa up. She was trying to determine whether it was real or still a dream when she
heard someone calling, "Hello? Anyone home?"
That's stupid, Melissa thought, dragging herself out of bed. Who's not home at seven in the morning? Her mom usually got
mad when people woke her up, but this time she wasn't, and she beat Melissa to the door. She opened the door for him
and stood there in her long shirt and bare feet, pushing back her hair. Almost smiling.
It was Frank. He delivered beer to the grocery store that her mom worked at. At night, when Dad was at work, he'd call
and her mom would tell Melissa and her little sister, Julia, that they were going to "take a ride". They'd go for ice cream and
then drive around until it was almost time for her dad to get home, Julia facedown, asleep against the leather back seat, and
Melissa leaning her head back so that she could feel the music coming through the holes in the black plastic speakers. Her
mom talked more to Frank than she talked to anyone, and she would tease him that he worked for a "generic" beer
company, that he should work for Coors or Budweiser or even Miller, somewhere that someone's heard of. Frank had dark,
feathered-back hair and his faded jeans fit him tight and nothing he ever said was serious. Usually he just made fun of
people, like Mom's manager, who treated the cashiers like they were in kindergarten or something and would say things like,
"Come on, break it up, no chat circles."
"You said you didn't have a phone here," Frank told her. "So I took a chance on calling in sick today." He set a case of beer
down on the table. It wasn't like a real gift or anything, he probably just grabbed it off the back off his truck.
"What's all this noise?" Julia complained, walking into the kitchen. She was a lot like Mom in the morning. Frank reached
over and messed up her hair. Melissa wondered if everyone would still think Julia was the cutest thing in the world when she
was thirty.
"Well," Frank drawled, sounding like a cowboy, "I think what you ladies need to cheer you up is for me to rustle up a little
grub. You put on the coffee, I'll take the princesses with me, and we'll be back before you know it."
At the store, Kate and Laura were standing in line, waiting to buy Cokes and licorice. Melissa's mother would've dropped
dead if she and Julia had even suggested digesting stuff like that so early in the morning. Kate had a Strawberry Shortcake
T-shirt on over her bathing suit, and Laura had one that said, "Esprit" on it. They said they couldn't stand to have everyone
looking at them, but Melissa hated when her shoulders weren't as tan as her arms, so she just dealt with it. If anyone
wanted to look at her instead of at the older girls with the string-y animal-print bikinis, they could be her guest.
Frank started singing along with the radio that he was easy like Sunday morning, out loud, and Kate and Laura turned and
looked without saying hi. Melissa started making a big production over helping Julia pick out a donut. They both decided on
cinnamon, and Frank asked Melissa which one her mom would like. She wondered if he was just pretending he didn't know.
She just grabbed a plain one because you're usually safe with those.
"How's Elaine?" Melissa asked Frank on the way back.
"Fine," he said, scrunching up his face like he had no idea how she could possibly know who that was. She reminded him
about the party at his place last Christmas. Elaine was Frank's girlfriend, and they lived together in this great house that
was the only one on the road.
It used to be Elaine's parents' barn when she was a kid, and when she inherited it they just tore the house down
altogether. "It was insane," she told everyone. "Right out of Dynasty. Disgusting."
Elaine was almost as tall as Frank and she had black hair that bent like wire and lips that were too big for her nose but that
just made you want to look at her more. There had been a line of people outside the downstairs bathroom, so Melissa had
snuck upstairs. On her way back she saw Elaine in her bedroom mirror, putting cranberry-colored lipstick on. "Here," she
said, holding out the tube. "Try this."
"Do you think?" Melissa had asked. "Isn't it too dark?" For sure, her mom would think it was.
Elaine held Melissa's hair up over her ears, making her face flush hot under cool fingertips. "No way," she said. "It's
beautiful. You're going to be gorgeous, you know that?"
Melissa took the lipstick tube and colored her lips in, staying within the lines, trying to hide her smile. Her mother always said
you shouldn't pay too much attention when someone gave you a compliment. It made you boring and conceited.
"Here," Elaine folded a tissue between her lips. "Go like this… mwah!"
"What happened to you?" Melissa's mom asked.
"Oh, just a little makeup," Elaine answered. "You like?"
"There's more on her teeth than on her lips," Mom laughed. She turned to Melissa. "You can't wear colors like that until you
learn how to put them on properly."
"Ready to go?" Dad asked. Melissa reached up and wiped at her lips, making berry-crayon streaks on her index finger.
"So that's where he gets all this," Dad said, pulling out from beside where Frank's car was parked next to Elaine's Mercedes
in the driveway. "She comes from money."
That was a funny expression, Melissa thought, like there was no difference between places and things.
"She's a little odd," Mom said. "Did you notice she barely talked to anyone except the kids?"
"Maybe she felt uncomfortable," Dad answered. "Seemed like it was mostly his friends."
"She doesn't need friends," Mom laughed. "She's got her cars."
Melissa stood up. "I'm going for a walk."
"Hold on, we'll come." Laura reached across the towel for her bag.
Melissa told her, no thanks, and Kate sat up and asked her why she was being so weird.
"I started my period," Melissa lied. "I just forgot stuff, so I need to go to the store."
Kate and Laura exchanged glances, like, okay, psycho bitch from hell mood explained. "You sure?" Laura asked. "Do you
need one now?"
Melissa started to say no, but then it occurred to her that she would, had she actually been in that situation. "I mean,
yeah," she fumbled. "You know, thanks."
Laura handed over her purse. It was pink and had an outline of a Jordache horse on it, with a black bandana tied around the
long strap. "You okay?"
"Yeah."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, thanks." Melissa slung the bag over her shoulder.
She heard her mom ask someone, "Hey, where's she going?" and Laura or Kate's reply getting lost in the crash of the waves.
Upon the opening of Laura's bag, while removing the sanitary napkin which she supposedly needed, which was rolled up
inside a baggie and stuffed in the corner under a brush to avoid obvious lumps, Melissa discovered a whole mess of change.
Laura wouldn't miss the price of a phone call.
She knew her dad's work number by heart, even though she had never called it. She asked for him like her mother always
did. "Hello, this is Melissa Thompson, calling for James."
The receptionist transferred her, and the phone rang a few times before he picked up. "This is Jim."
It freaked her out for a second. He had no idea who was calling; he could've been about to talk to anybody. This is what he
sounded like when he talked to everyone in the world.
"Dad?"
"Missy? Is that you?"
Melissa almost felt like she was doing something wrong, like maybe she should just hang up. That's crazy, she thought,
since when is it a crime to call your own father? "Yeah…"
"Is anything wrong?"
"No, of course not,"
"Are you having fun? How are your mother and your sister?'
She answered the questions all together. Most of them, anyway. "Mom's having fun."
"Well, that's good. Don't give her a hard time, okay?"
"What do you mean?" Did he know Frank was coming to visit? Didn't he mind? Wasn't he mad at her?
"She's never had a teenager before, Miss. This is all new to her."
"Oh, I know." She chickened out of saying anything else. "I'm sure
there's nothing to worry about."
"Well… okay, then," he said. "I should get back to work. Be good, okay?"
"I will, Daddy." She hadn't called him that since back when she could think of him without her eyes getting all blurry. "I love
you."
"You, too, sweetheart. Bye."
She waited until he hung up, until she heard the click and then the dial tone.
While Melissa's mom and Julia got ready to go out for pizza with Frank, Melissa hid in her room. When her mom knocked on
her door and asked if she wanted to go, Melissa yelled that the pizza here tasted like shit. Mom yelled at her to watch her
language, and then Melissa yelled back that she was tired and everything sucked. Furthermore, in case anyone had
forgotten, she was grounded, and, besides, she wasn't even hungry, so they might as well save Dad's money. After she
said that, she waited for the door to open and her mother to come in and scream at her, but she didn't. Melissa even heard
them laughing. She curled up in the small space between the bed and the wall and listened to her stomach growl and
couldn't cry because she was too mad and couldn't find anything to throw because there was nothing in the room except
clothes and pulling them down off the hangers in the closet wouldn't even make enough noise to be satisfying.
Only when she heard the door close did Melissa come out of her room. She poured herself a bowl of Frosted Flakes with
milk, which she ate while watching the early reruns of Bewitched and Welcome Back Kotter, and then the prime-time reruns
of Diff'rent Strokes and The Facts of Life. She got sick of the TV after awhile, so she turned it off, and then decided that
she liked having the place to herself. She lit her mom's white heavy candles that smelled like gardenia and plugged in the
radio and put it on the gray-and-white linoleum that ran through the whole cottage, and lay down next to it. She was
watching the flames drip, tear-shapes melting into themselves, when she heard tapping against the window.
Melissa unfolded completely, screaming at the top of her lungs and searching the room for a baseball bat or something.
When she glanced up again, she saw the boy's spiky hair and his mouth laughing.
She opened the door. "Hi."
"Sorry," he said, still smiling. "I didn't mean to scare you. The lights were all off, but I heard the music, so... " He looked up
and down at her. "You weren't asleep, were you?"
Melissa remembered that, to be dramatic and further illustrate the point that she had absolutely nothing to do tonight but
stay inside, she'd changed into her pajamas. Yellow baby-dolls with little bows and puffy bottoms. Awesome.
"No, I was just... do you want to... " She opened the door, and he stepped in with his heavy boots. He was in tight black
jeans and a Clash T-shirt under a dark-gray cloth jacket with zippers on the sleeves, but he didn't even look hot. He was
pale, too, like the air and sun didn't touch him. Ever.
Melissa switched off the music and picked up the candles and blew out the flames and turned the lights back on.
"So, did you wanna go hang out or something?" He asked.
"Oh, yeah. I should change first. Here, you can watch TV or something. We don't have cable though. Or a remote
control." She knew she was talking way too fast for him to follow so she finally just turned the TV on. "You can sit down."
"You sure?" He asked. "I can wait outside."
"No, I'll be just a minute. A second." She ran into her room, closed the door, and found a T-shirt and shorts and jammed
her feet into sandals.
"So, Styx, huh?" He asked as they walked outside.
"What?"
"Your shirt."
She was never like this, with her brain not catching up to her mouth. Her mother teased her about that all the time, "Dear
God, Missy, can't you just shut that brain of yours off for one second? The rest of us are having trouble keeping up here!"
"Paradise Theater is awesome," she said, finally remembering what shirt she had on. "Do you have the tape?"
He shook his head. "I don't listen to stuff that they play on the radio that much. I mean, think about it... it's like you're a
captive. You have no choice; you have to listen to whatever they play, whatever they tell you, whether you believe in it or
not. I mostly listen to new wave. A lot of stuff from England, like the Chameleons and Echo & the Bunnymen. Ever hear of
them?"
She shook her head. Maybe she sort of knew what he meant, but she didn't say anything in case it came out wrong, and she
wished she'd grabbed her white tank top instead except she thought that she left the bra that she usually wore with it at
home.
"Come on," he said. "I have tapes at my place." He took her hand like it was breakable, holding on with all of his fingers. He
led her through an alley, to a gray house with a red door.
When they walked in a woman yelled, "Shane? That you?" She was bigger than the chair she was sitting in, and she had on
a yellow dress with purple flowers. Her hair was tied up in a big red scarf, and it was deep brown, like wood or coffee.
Shane. Melissa probably should've asked him that already. "Hey, Shane... " she whispered, flirting.
He laughed a little, squeezing her hand. "Hey." He turned to the flower-lady.
"Hey, Ma. This is... "
"Misty," she said, because they'd never met Melissa.
"Nice to meet you, Misty." Shane's mother picked up a pipe off the table and lit a Zippo over it. When she inhaled, it didn't
smell like tobacco. "Hon, you wanna grab me a beer?"
Shane reached into the refrigerator and grabbed a can. Even they had Budweiser, like the rest of the world.
"You guys can have one if you want," she said, flipping the top open.
"We're all set," he said. "Mom, you're a dirty hippie, you know that, don't you?"
"I love you too, son." She blew him a kiss at the same time she blew out her smoke.
"Maybe I shouldn't have brought you over," he said, leading Melissa out to the porch. "She's so weird."
"No, she was fine."
"I bet your parents are really normal."
"Not exactly," she said. "Last year, the day we left to go home, my mom had this bottle of red wine, and it was mostly full,
but she didn't want to lug it all the way home in the car, so she decided to just drink it. So she drinks it, and then on the
way home, she gets totally sick. My dad had to pull over and everything."
"Whoa," he said. "That sucks."
"Yeah, but the thing is, it was sort of funny. We had this car before, we have a new one now, but the one we had last year,
the passenger door didn't open from the inside. So she's trying to get out of the car so she can puke, and she's leaning
out the window and trying to open the door and it gets all over the place. Thank God the window was open."
"That happen a lot?" He asked, reaching over and touching her hair.
"No," she said, looking down. "I mean, I don't even know why I just told you that. I didn't even remember it until right
now."
"It's okay... " he said, leaning over. His lips were softer than she'd expected. Melissa had only ever flown in dreams, but not
really, because she never got that far off the ground, part of her always knew that it wasn't real, wasn't right, and she
always woke up right as she started to fall. This was the opposite of that, maybe you could only really ever fly with someone
who only knew you by the mood you've been in lately, who was the only one who found it interesting instead of annoying.
Maybe you weren't supposed to know that yet, maybe you were supposed to find out much, much later, when you had
things like daughters and vacations and musty beer cans in plastic rings on the kitchen table.
"Did you want me to get that tape?" He asked softly, pulling back a little.
She had no idea what time it was. "I can't, I... have to go."
"You're always running off," he said. She liked the way he talked about her. It made her sound like a stranger.
"Well, can I at least walk you home?" He reached for her hand, stronger this time, lacing her fingers through hers. Melissa
felt like she was shaking under her skin. She hoped he couldn't tell.
They walked up the alley. Her mom was saying goodbye to Frank. He was leaning in close to her, but they didn't touch. He
headed out toward the street, and seconds later Melissa's father headed up the walk, followed by Rich.
"What are you... " her mother started to say.
Melissa looked at Shane. She wished it was easier to explain, that you can't just fly away, that it wasn't fair to the people
who were waiting for you, the ones who would come back just to check on you, to make sure you were still there. What she
said was, "You should go."
"Who the hell was that?" Rich asked, glancing over at Shane, headed down the alley with his hands in his jacket pockets.
Melissa just looked at her mom and then her dad. "It doesn't matter," she said. "He's gone."
Melissa heard the music; loud and unfamiliar, before she saw the two guys. They had a boom box and were probably on
their way to the boardwalk. They both had black boots on. One had blond hair, kind of long in the front, and he was wearing
ripped jeans and a flannel shirt with the sleeves cut off. The other one had dark hair that was short and spiky, and his jean
jacket had patches all over it.
"What the hell was that?" Kate laughed as the guys walked past, the music getting softer and disappearing.
Laura shrugged, then looked at Melissa. "What are you looking at?"
Melissa stood up and headed down the porch stairs, ignoring Kate's surprised, "Where are you going?' Barefoot in the
middle of the night, in the middle of the street, she kept walking, sharp steps hitting the road.
Kate and Laura ran to catch up to her, whispering "where is she going?" Melissa didn't stop until they had reached the
arcade.
"What're we doing here?" Laura finally asked as they walked in.
Melissa led them though. Spotting the two guys playing air hockey, she walked by them, keeping her eyes on the middle of
the dark blue table. They were just kind of flicking the disk around, both looking bored, neither playing very hard.
The dark-haired one looked up quick and said, "hi."
Melissa didn't say it back, just smiled and asked Kate for a quarter. Kate handed her one, looking at Laura and shrugging
like maybe that was part of whatever this was.
"Thanks. I just really needed to play Q-bert." Melissa walked over to the machine. Laura and Kate stopped behind her,
watching Melissa make Q-bert change the blue squares to pink and defy the curly snake who tried to change the colors back
again.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Melissa jumped, a result of either her father's voice or the clang as Q-bert fell off
of the pyramid. He grabbed her by the collar of her alligator shirt. Laura and Kate rushed out of the way, probably so that
he wouldn't have a chance to do that to them, too.
"I asked you a question," he growled, still holding her, dragging her towards the door. Melissa turned back. She didn't see
her dark-haired boy anywhere. Hopefully they finished up their game and left.
She couldn't think of how to say it, that the boys had looked interesting, but that wasn't why. Not exactly. It was hard to
explain. Things with Kate and Laura were strange so far. She hadn't seen them since last summer, and she couldn't just be
like, "hi," because she had no idea what they did last week, let alone whether General Hospital was still Kate's favorite soap,
or whether Laura still listened to cassettes of songs she taped off the radio. When they called her "Missy," she'd said, "It's
Misty now," because she and her best friend at school, Stacy, had decided to call themselves "Misty" and "Tace". Laura had
looked over at Kate, who'd shrugged and looked like she was trying not to crack up laughing. It was like if she had had to
sit on the porch with them for another second, she might have started screaming and never, ever stopped.
Kate and Laura were whispering again. Melissa wished she knew what they were saying, and she wished that her father
would let her go, All of her friends had always thought that he was the coolest dad because he wore Levis and Nike
sneakers, that her mom was always yelling at him for trying to outrun Camaros and Trans Ams in his cream-colored Monte
Carlo. They couldn't be more wrong; here was obvious proof of that.
"Bye, Misty," Kate called, making the "t" sound kind of hard. Laura whispered something to her, and this time, Melissa was
kind of glad that she couldn't make it out.
In the morning, when everyone went down to the beach, Melissa stayed up on the deck, looking away until she had to squint
her eyes and look really hard to spot the light green umbrella with the fringe that Laura's grandmother always brought.
"I thought your father was going to kill you," Kate said, climbing up the stairs. She claimed a spot next to her on her pink
towel. Melissa didn't tell her that her mom had been waiting for them when they got back, still holding the pink plastic cup
that she'd had with her at Laura's. "What were you thinking?" she had asked. "What kind of girl are you, that you just go
chasing after some boy you don't even know?"
She had tried to answer, but her dad shoved his finger in her face and said, "I don't want to hear it, young lady", and when
she was quiet they asked what she had to say for herself and it wasn't until she finally lost it completely and started sobbing
uncontrollably that they finally gave up and sent her to bed.
"Did you and Laura get in trouble?" Melissa asked.
"No," Kate answered. "My mom was glad that we were there with you. She said anything could've happened."
Melissa snapped again. 'I wish everyone would stop saying that!" She was practically yelling. "I'm so sick of hearing it! Like
happening is such a bad thing, anyway!"
"What' is your problem?" Kate shook her head, getting up to leave.
Melissa's sister, Julia, came bounding up the stairs. "Are you gonna come down?" She was seven, and way too young to
understand anything, that it was fine, that Melissa didn't care one bit if she never moved from this porch for the rest of the
summer, if her feet never touched the water, if she ever got another suntan in her life.
Julia was in the same bathing suit they'd both tried on, the royal blue one with all of the straps. It was fine on Julia,
according to their dad, but on Melissa, it was "too showy," whatever that meant. "Absolutely not," he'd said. "Go take it
off." She had wanted to scream that it wasn't fair, but instead she got dressed and refused to even look at any of the other
suits that her mother held up, and had gone outside while they paid for Julia's at the register.
It was okay, though. She still had her green two-piece from last year, and it still fit, better, actually, except she kept having
to pull up the strings on the bottom and when she walked out of her room in it her father asked her what she was planning
to wear over it. Mom had shot him a look and then later, in Melissa's room, she told her that they had to be patient with
him, that he was having a hard time with her growing up.
"He can't even look at me," Melissa had shrieked. "It's like he thinks I'm too ugly to live!" Mom reached for her hair,
promising that wasn't it; he didn't think that at all. Melissa didn't believe her and she pulled away.
"What's up, Miss?'
When she opened her eyes, it was Laura's older brother Rich. His red swim trunks made him look like a little kid, with the
bottoms flowing out like a little skirt over his skinny legs. He probably had no clue how stupid it looked, but maybe he did,
and for a second Melissa wished she were a guy.
"Hello," she said, formally, already annoyed.
He asked what she was doing but it was so obvious that she didn't feel the need to answer him and just looked away.
"You catching some rays?" He asked. Obviously, he'd heard that expression somewhere and had been just waiting for the
chance to use it on someone.
Last year, on the first night here, her parents and Julia had gone to bed early and every time Melissa shifted on her sheets
the sound was much, much too loud. She usually couldn't sleep the first few nights of vacation, anyway. It was hard
getting used to the sounds, the ocean and people laughing instead of crickets and cars driving by.
Melissa had gotten out of bed, flung up the latch on the screen door and walked out onto the back steps. It surprised her
like always when the concrete was cold against her toes, expecting it to still be sun-scorched under her blistered feet.
She went by Laura's, because they usually stayed up at least late enough for Johnny's monologue but the place was
completely dark and her mom's car wasn't there. Usually the first thing that Melissa did was walk to the ocean but this time
she hadn't, so she decided to go now, even if it didn't count, because it would be different without the sun.
She heard tap-tapping on the window as she rounded the corner of the house, and it made her jump but she managed to
keep the scream in her mouth. And then the window opened and Rich called, "Miss!"
"Wait right there," he whispered. It was probably too quiet where he was, too.
"Where's Laura?" Melissa asked when he came outside.
He said she and her mom were coming tomorrow, and then they were both quiet as they walked down to the water. He
stopped before the sand got wet, but she ran right into the water almost up to where the waves broke against her thighs.
"You're crazy!" he called, not trying to be quiet anymore.
"So why'd you come, then?"
"I don't know," he said, sitting down. Melissa could tell he was smiling. She ran back up and sat next to him, her legs
sticking to the sand.
"You look like Shake'n'Bake," he teased.
"Want a bite?' Immediately, she felt her face getting hot and she wished she could swallow the words back in.
Rich looked away, staring into the waves. Melissa thought that maybe she should apologize or something, except that
would just cause it to go on longer, so she didn't. She looked right at him, daring him to make it go away. He just kicked at
the sand and wouldn't look up. Finally he took his T-shirt off and handed it to her. It was light, white or gray, and had a
faded decal from last year. She wiped most of the sand off of her legs and then laid the shirt down and spread them out
over it. The shirt soaked though from where she was still wet.
Rich reached behind his shoulder, trying to scratch himself and getting all twisted up like a pretzel in the process.
"Itchy?" she asked, and then they both laughed. She didn't stop until he did.
"I have this mosquito bite," he explained.
Melissa stood up and then sat behind him with his butt between her legs. He jumped a little the first time she touched him.
"Jesus, Missy, watch it, not that hard! You must have really long nails!"
She slid over, holding her hands out in front of his face. "No, I don't, actually."
He scooched his back to her again. "I didn't say stop."
That was the only thing Melissa could remember when she thought about last year, even though all of the usual things
happened, they must've; fried dough at the Pavilion, the softball game and bonfire on the Fourth of July, promising Laura
that she'd write to her even though neither one of them ever really did.
The only thing that ever came to mind when she tried to picture last summer was that Rich's skin was really soft and he had
this bone in his back that reminded her of a fish. He must've forgotten about that already; after all, it did happen an entire
year ago.
"What do you want?" Melissa finally asked him.
"Nothing, you just look kind of bored," he said, lifting his dark-blue Adidas sneaker onto the railing.
"Well, I'm not." She didn't tell him that that was a really stupid thing to say, because her eyes were closed so how would he
even know?
Melissa heard her dad, who was manning the grill, say, "She's such a good kid." She moved closer to where he was talking
to Laura's dad so that she could listen.
"Yeah, we're really proud of her," Laura's dad answered. Melissa's eyes got all squinty and she felt like yelling at herself, that
it was stupid of her to even think that, even for a second.
"You're doing something right," Melissa's dad said. Melissa wished that she could just turn around in front of everyone and
ask him what that was supposed to mean.
"So, what? You're talking to people tonight?" Rich asked, coming over with Kate.
He started talking about his baseball season and it was probably a continuation of a conversation that the two of them were
having before, but no one clarified and Melissa couldn't follow and it was getting really annoying. Kate's hair was seriously
shiny and her tank top showed off the white straps of her training bra. Maybe she was trying to show everyone that this
was the year that she had "become a woman" and that her body was going through all of these "strange and wonderful
changes." She kept looking up at him and asking all of these questions, and Melissa wondered who she was kidding,
because he was like fifteen years old.
Melissa must have had a weird look on her face or something, because Kate looked up and said, "Missy, what?" Melissa just
shrugged and said that she was going to get a hamburger.
There were only hot dogs and cheeseburgers left on the grill. "There were hamburgers before," Melissa's dad said, stacking
a bunch of buns onto a paper plate. "You should've been paying attention."
"Leave it to me to do everything wrong," Melissa could feel the words getting all stuck together in her throat.
"Don't even start," he said.
"Here," Laura walked over, handing Melissa a plate with a hamburger on an open bun.
"What do you say?" Melissa's father asked her after a minute. Like she was younger than Julia.
"Really, thanks. Thanks a lot," Melissa made it sound extra-appreciative, like Laura had just donated her organs to her or
something.
Laura either ignored it, or didn't notice. "There's ketchup and junk over there," she said, pointing to the card table with the
blue-and-white plastic checkered tablecloth.
Melissa's dad had to get ready to go back into town for work. He started saying goodbye to everyone and he kissed Mom
and asked her to call him, but she said it was a pain in the ass to go to the pay phone with the kids and everything. He said
he understood and he'd see her next weekend and took the beer bottle out of her hand and poured it into a red plastic cup
so she wouldn't get in trouble if the cops came. When he looked over at Melissa, she turned around and walked away, trying
to keep him out of her sight.
Everyone was laughing, calling him "poor bastard." He said someone had to pay for the place, that he wasn't a lucky stiff like
the rest of them, and that he'd see everyone next weekend. He headed out to his car and Melissa followed. He never
turned around, just got in and started the engine. She ran out into the street, stopping right in front of the hood.
He rolled the window down. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
Melissa couldn't answer him, she was crying too hard.
"Now what are you crying for? She kept running, hearing him calling her until she reached the stairs of the cottage. She
stood there until she heard him drive away.
As she started to open the door, someone called, "Hey!" When she turned around, it was the dark-haired boy from the
other night. She managed a wave before she went inside.
The sound of someone knocking woke Melissa up. She was trying to determine whether it was real or still a dream when she
heard someone calling, "Hello? Anyone home?"
That's stupid, Melissa thought, dragging herself out of bed. Who's not home at seven in the morning? Her mom usually got
mad when people woke her up, but this time she wasn't, and she beat Melissa to the door. She opened the door for him
and stood there in her long shirt and bare feet, pushing back her hair. Almost smiling.
It was Frank. He delivered beer to the grocery store that her mom worked at. At night, when Dad was at work, he'd call
and her mom would tell Melissa and her little sister, Julia, that they were going to "take a ride". They'd go for ice cream and
then drive around until it was almost time for her dad to get home, Julia facedown, asleep against the leather back seat, and
Melissa leaning her head back so that she could feel the music coming through the holes in the black plastic speakers. Her
mom talked more to Frank than she talked to anyone, and she would tease him that he worked for a "generic" beer
company, that he should work for Coors or Budweiser or even Miller, somewhere that someone's heard of. Frank had dark,
feathered-back hair and his faded jeans fit him tight and nothing he ever said was serious. Usually he just made fun of
people, like Mom's manager, who treated the cashiers like they were in kindergarten or something and would say things like,
"Come on, break it up, no chat circles."
"You said you didn't have a phone here," Frank told her. "So I took a chance on calling in sick today." He set a case of beer
down on the table. It wasn't like a real gift or anything, he probably just grabbed it off the back off his truck.
"What's all this noise?" Julia complained, walking into the kitchen. She was a lot like Mom in the morning. Frank reached
over and messed up her hair. Melissa wondered if everyone would still think Julia was the cutest thing in the world when she
was thirty.
"Well," Frank drawled, sounding like a cowboy, "I think what you ladies need to cheer you up is for me to rustle up a little
grub. You put on the coffee, I'll take the princesses with me, and we'll be back before you know it."
At the store, Kate and Laura were standing in line, waiting to buy Cokes and licorice. Melissa's mother would've dropped
dead if she and Julia had even suggested digesting stuff like that so early in the morning. Kate had a Strawberry Shortcake
T-shirt on over her bathing suit, and Laura had one that said, "Esprit" on it. They said they couldn't stand to have everyone
looking at them, but Melissa hated when her shoulders weren't as tan as her arms, so she just dealt with it. If anyone
wanted to look at her instead of at the older girls with the string-y animal-print bikinis, they could be her guest.
Frank started singing along with the radio that he was easy like Sunday morning, out loud, and Kate and Laura turned and
looked without saying hi. Melissa started making a big production over helping Julia pick out a donut. They both decided on
cinnamon, and Frank asked Melissa which one her mom would like. She wondered if he was just pretending he didn't know.
She just grabbed a plain one because you're usually safe with those.
"How's Elaine?" Melissa asked Frank on the way back.
"Fine," he said, scrunching up his face like he had no idea how she could possibly know who that was. She reminded him
about the party at his place last Christmas. Elaine was Frank's girlfriend, and they lived together in this great house that
was the only one on the road.
It used to be Elaine's parents' barn when she was a kid, and when she inherited it they just tore the house down
altogether. "It was insane," she told everyone. "Right out of Dynasty. Disgusting."
Elaine was almost as tall as Frank and she had black hair that bent like wire and lips that were too big for her nose but that
just made you want to look at her more. There had been a line of people outside the downstairs bathroom, so Melissa had
snuck upstairs. On her way back she saw Elaine in her bedroom mirror, putting cranberry-colored lipstick on. "Here," she
said, holding out the tube. "Try this."
"Do you think?" Melissa had asked. "Isn't it too dark?" For sure, her mom would think it was.
Elaine held Melissa's hair up over her ears, making her face flush hot under cool fingertips. "No way," she said. "It's
beautiful. You're going to be gorgeous, you know that?"
Melissa took the lipstick tube and colored her lips in, staying within the lines, trying to hide her smile. Her mother always said
you shouldn't pay too much attention when someone gave you a compliment. It made you boring and conceited.
"Here," Elaine folded a tissue between her lips. "Go like this… mwah!"
"What happened to you?" Melissa's mom asked.
"Oh, just a little makeup," Elaine answered. "You like?"
"There's more on her teeth than on her lips," Mom laughed. She turned to Melissa. "You can't wear colors like that until you
learn how to put them on properly."
"Ready to go?" Dad asked. Melissa reached up and wiped at her lips, making berry-crayon streaks on her index finger.
"So that's where he gets all this," Dad said, pulling out from beside where Frank's car was parked next to Elaine's Mercedes
in the driveway. "She comes from money."
That was a funny expression, Melissa thought, like there was no difference between places and things.
"She's a little odd," Mom said. "Did you notice she barely talked to anyone except the kids?"
"Maybe she felt uncomfortable," Dad answered. "Seemed like it was mostly his friends."
"She doesn't need friends," Mom laughed. "She's got her cars."
Melissa stood up. "I'm going for a walk."
"Hold on, we'll come." Laura reached across the towel for her bag.
Melissa told her, no thanks, and Kate sat up and asked her why she was being so weird.
"I started my period," Melissa lied. "I just forgot stuff, so I need to go to the store."
Kate and Laura exchanged glances, like, okay, psycho bitch from hell mood explained. "You sure?" Laura asked. "Do you
need one now?"
Melissa started to say no, but then it occurred to her that she would, had she actually been in that situation. "I mean,
yeah," she fumbled. "You know, thanks."
Laura handed over her purse. It was pink and had an outline of a Jordache horse on it, with a black bandana tied around the
long strap. "You okay?"
"Yeah."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, thanks." Melissa slung the bag over her shoulder.
She heard her mom ask someone, "Hey, where's she going?" and Laura or Kate's reply getting lost in the crash of the waves.
Upon the opening of Laura's bag, while removing the sanitary napkin which she supposedly needed, which was rolled up
inside a baggie and stuffed in the corner under a brush to avoid obvious lumps, Melissa discovered a whole mess of change.
Laura wouldn't miss the price of a phone call.
She knew her dad's work number by heart, even though she had never called it. She asked for him like her mother always
did. "Hello, this is Melissa Thompson, calling for James."
The receptionist transferred her, and the phone rang a few times before he picked up. "This is Jim."
It freaked her out for a second. He had no idea who was calling; he could've been about to talk to anybody. This is what he
sounded like when he talked to everyone in the world.
"Dad?"
"Missy? Is that you?"
Melissa almost felt like she was doing something wrong, like maybe she should just hang up. That's crazy, she thought,
since when is it a crime to call your own father? "Yeah…"
"Is anything wrong?"
"No, of course not,"
"Are you having fun? How are your mother and your sister?'
She answered the questions all together. Most of them, anyway. "Mom's having fun."
"Well, that's good. Don't give her a hard time, okay?"
"What do you mean?" Did he know Frank was coming to visit? Didn't he mind? Wasn't he mad at her?
"She's never had a teenager before, Miss. This is all new to her."
"Oh, I know." She chickened out of saying anything else. "I'm sure
there's nothing to worry about."
"Well… okay, then," he said. "I should get back to work. Be good, okay?"
"I will, Daddy." She hadn't called him that since back when she could think of him without her eyes getting all blurry. "I love
you."
"You, too, sweetheart. Bye."
She waited until he hung up, until she heard the click and then the dial tone.
While Melissa's mom and Julia got ready to go out for pizza with Frank, Melissa hid in her room. When her mom knocked on
her door and asked if she wanted to go, Melissa yelled that the pizza here tasted like shit. Mom yelled at her to watch her
language, and then Melissa yelled back that she was tired and everything sucked. Furthermore, in case anyone had
forgotten, she was grounded, and, besides, she wasn't even hungry, so they might as well save Dad's money. After she
said that, she waited for the door to open and her mother to come in and scream at her, but she didn't. Melissa even heard
them laughing. She curled up in the small space between the bed and the wall and listened to her stomach growl and
couldn't cry because she was too mad and couldn't find anything to throw because there was nothing in the room except
clothes and pulling them down off the hangers in the closet wouldn't even make enough noise to be satisfying.
Only when she heard the door close did Melissa come out of her room. She poured herself a bowl of Frosted Flakes with
milk, which she ate while watching the early reruns of Bewitched and Welcome Back Kotter, and then the prime-time reruns
of Diff'rent Strokes and The Facts of Life. She got sick of the TV after awhile, so she turned it off, and then decided that
she liked having the place to herself. She lit her mom's white heavy candles that smelled like gardenia and plugged in the
radio and put it on the gray-and-white linoleum that ran through the whole cottage, and lay down next to it. She was
watching the flames drip, tear-shapes melting into themselves, when she heard tapping against the window.
Melissa unfolded completely, screaming at the top of her lungs and searching the room for a baseball bat or something.
When she glanced up again, she saw the boy's spiky hair and his mouth laughing.
She opened the door. "Hi."
"Sorry," he said, still smiling. "I didn't mean to scare you. The lights were all off, but I heard the music, so... " He looked up
and down at her. "You weren't asleep, were you?"
Melissa remembered that, to be dramatic and further illustrate the point that she had absolutely nothing to do tonight but
stay inside, she'd changed into her pajamas. Yellow baby-dolls with little bows and puffy bottoms. Awesome.
"No, I was just... do you want to... " She opened the door, and he stepped in with his heavy boots. He was in tight black
jeans and a Clash T-shirt under a dark-gray cloth jacket with zippers on the sleeves, but he didn't even look hot. He was
pale, too, like the air and sun didn't touch him. Ever.
Melissa switched off the music and picked up the candles and blew out the flames and turned the lights back on.
"So, did you wanna go hang out or something?" He asked.
"Oh, yeah. I should change first. Here, you can watch TV or something. We don't have cable though. Or a remote
control." She knew she was talking way too fast for him to follow so she finally just turned the TV on. "You can sit down."
"You sure?" He asked. "I can wait outside."
"No, I'll be just a minute. A second." She ran into her room, closed the door, and found a T-shirt and shorts and jammed
her feet into sandals.
"So, Styx, huh?" He asked as they walked outside.
"What?"
"Your shirt."
She was never like this, with her brain not catching up to her mouth. Her mother teased her about that all the time, "Dear
God, Missy, can't you just shut that brain of yours off for one second? The rest of us are having trouble keeping up here!"
"Paradise Theater is awesome," she said, finally remembering what shirt she had on. "Do you have the tape?"
He shook his head. "I don't listen to stuff that they play on the radio that much. I mean, think about it... it's like you're a
captive. You have no choice; you have to listen to whatever they play, whatever they tell you, whether you believe in it or
not. I mostly listen to new wave. A lot of stuff from England, like the Chameleons and Echo & the Bunnymen. Ever hear of
them?"
She shook her head. Maybe she sort of knew what he meant, but she didn't say anything in case it came out wrong, and she
wished she'd grabbed her white tank top instead except she thought that she left the bra that she usually wore with it at
home.
"Come on," he said. "I have tapes at my place." He took her hand like it was breakable, holding on with all of his fingers. He
led her through an alley, to a gray house with a red door.
When they walked in a woman yelled, "Shane? That you?" She was bigger than the chair she was sitting in, and she had on
a yellow dress with purple flowers. Her hair was tied up in a big red scarf, and it was deep brown, like wood or coffee.
Shane. Melissa probably should've asked him that already. "Hey, Shane... " she whispered, flirting.
He laughed a little, squeezing her hand. "Hey." He turned to the flower-lady.
"Hey, Ma. This is... "
"Misty," she said, because they'd never met Melissa.
"Nice to meet you, Misty." Shane's mother picked up a pipe off the table and lit a Zippo over it. When she inhaled, it didn't
smell like tobacco. "Hon, you wanna grab me a beer?"
Shane reached into the refrigerator and grabbed a can. Even they had Budweiser, like the rest of the world.
"You guys can have one if you want," she said, flipping the top open.
"We're all set," he said. "Mom, you're a dirty hippie, you know that, don't you?"
"I love you too, son." She blew him a kiss at the same time she blew out her smoke.
"Maybe I shouldn't have brought you over," he said, leading Melissa out to the porch. "She's so weird."
"No, she was fine."
"I bet your parents are really normal."
"Not exactly," she said. "Last year, the day we left to go home, my mom had this bottle of red wine, and it was mostly full,
but she didn't want to lug it all the way home in the car, so she decided to just drink it. So she drinks it, and then on the
way home, she gets totally sick. My dad had to pull over and everything."
"Whoa," he said. "That sucks."
"Yeah, but the thing is, it was sort of funny. We had this car before, we have a new one now, but the one we had last year,
the passenger door didn't open from the inside. So she's trying to get out of the car so she can puke, and she's leaning
out the window and trying to open the door and it gets all over the place. Thank God the window was open."
"That happen a lot?" He asked, reaching over and touching her hair.
"No," she said, looking down. "I mean, I don't even know why I just told you that. I didn't even remember it until right
now."
"It's okay... " he said, leaning over. His lips were softer than she'd expected. Melissa had only ever flown in dreams, but not
really, because she never got that far off the ground, part of her always knew that it wasn't real, wasn't right, and she
always woke up right as she started to fall. This was the opposite of that, maybe you could only really ever fly with someone
who only knew you by the mood you've been in lately, who was the only one who found it interesting instead of annoying.
Maybe you weren't supposed to know that yet, maybe you were supposed to find out much, much later, when you had
things like daughters and vacations and musty beer cans in plastic rings on the kitchen table.
"Did you want me to get that tape?" He asked softly, pulling back a little.
She had no idea what time it was. "I can't, I... have to go."
"You're always running off," he said. She liked the way he talked about her. It made her sound like a stranger.
"Well, can I at least walk you home?" He reached for her hand, stronger this time, lacing her fingers through hers. Melissa
felt like she was shaking under her skin. She hoped he couldn't tell.
They walked up the alley. Her mom was saying goodbye to Frank. He was leaning in close to her, but they didn't touch. He
headed out toward the street, and seconds later Melissa's father headed up the walk, followed by Rich.
"What are you... " her mother started to say.
Melissa looked at Shane. She wished it was easier to explain, that you can't just fly away, that it wasn't fair to the people
who were waiting for you, the ones who would come back just to check on you, to make sure you were still there. What she
said was, "You should go."
"Who the hell was that?" Rich asked, glancing over at Shane, headed down the alley with his hands in his jacket pockets.
Melissa just looked at her mom and then her dad. "It doesn't matter," she said. "He's gone."
Tracy Pitocchelli
