Authors: Ellen Hopkins
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Family, #General, #Orphans & Foster Homes, #Social Issues, #Adolescence, #Drugs; Alcohol; Substance Abuse
IMPORTANT? ME?
I’ve never once thought
of myself as
important,
or considered
I might have a special
reason for being. I’ve
mostly thought
of myself
as an accident.
Someone in the way.
Something important to
do? Like what?
Guess I
don’t need to
think about that right
now. Like Grandpa Scott
said, let’s just
get through
today. And make
big decisions tomorrow.
Hunter
SOMETIMES I SHOULD SHUT MY MOUTH
I knew bringing up Brendan
wasn’t the most tactful thing
to do, especially on Christmas.
But sometimes Kristina makes
me so mad, I want to hurt her.
It’s stupid. She doesn’t injure
easily, at least not when the slaps
are verbal. When I mentioned
Brendan, she didn’t say anything
immediately. Finally she said,
I’m surprised he came back.
Surprised he’s still alive
,
actually. He ripped off a lot
of people. Even worse than
he took advantage of me.
We were almost home by
then. I slowed enough to get
a few words in. “Don’t suppose
you’ll take some responsibility
for what happened that night?”
ANGER PUFFED
From her mouth in
abbreviated breaths.
What? You
want to
blame me
for getting
raped?
Oh
my
God.
And then she really
pissed me off.
Just like
a man.
Despite Grandpa
Bill’s obvious
uneasiness, I jumped.
“All men are not alike.
And, thank God, all
women are not like you.”
SHE HASN’T SPOKEN
To me since. Not that I care.
When we got home, she went
straight into the house and
retreated somewhere with
the boys. For all of ten minutes.
Then I noticed Donald join
Grandpa Bill in the family room.
He got a new game system
for Christmas. They’re playing.
I am helping Mom wash veggies
when David bops by with Sasha.
“Where’s Kristina?” I ask.
He shrugs.
She went outside
to smoke a cigarette. Why
does she like those stinky things?
Mom answers,
Tobacco
is addictive. Once you start
smoking, it’s really hard to quit.
I’ll never smoke
, he decides.
Not if it makes you smell
like that. Come on, Sasha.
EVENTUALLY
Kristina comes back inside,
trailed by Jake and Misty,
who have just arrived bearing
gifts like Christmas magi.
They sweep into the kitchen,
Leigh close on their heels,
put the presents on the table,
chant a chorus of “Merry Christmas.”
Kristina heads straight for
the brightly wrapped boxes,
finds one with her name on
it.
Ooh. Can I open it now?
Leigh stops her from tearing
into the Santa-and-puppy
paper.
Why don’t we wait
for Scott to get back?
Kristina, who has managed
to ignore me completely,
reluctantly agrees. Nicotine
obviously can work wonders.
Jake goes into the family room,
and I hear him say,
Grandpa
Bill! I didn’t know you were
here. Where’s your car?
Damn DMV wouldn’t re-up
my license. Said my eyes
don’t work so good anymore.
Hate to admit they’re right.
The banter picks up speed in
the kitchen as Mom and Misty
and Leigh and Kristina start
yakking girl talk. Enough, already.
I’m on my way to the family room
when the doorbell rings. Nikki?
She’s early, but that’s all good.
I swing the door open. “Nik!”
Autumn
THIS HOUSE IS INSANE
Insane, as in beautiful.
I stand on the front porch,
staring up at the tall doors.
Oak, with beveled stained glass.
I wait for the familiar tingle
in my fingers. But I don’t
feel close to panic. I reach
out. Ring the doorbell.
The door jerks open.
Nik!
But I’m not Nik, whoever he
is, and the boy who is waiting
for him is confused.
Uh …
Can I help you?
He is older
than me by a year or two,
with mink-colored hair and
eyes an unusual shade of green.
We are related, but I’m not
sure how, and even less sure
of what to say. I start to back
away, but Trey takes over for me.
You must be Hunter. Wow.
I haven’t seen you since you
were a baby. Damn. I’m, um …
Is Kristina here, by any chance?
Hunter—my brother—nods an
“oh, okay” nod, turns, and yells,
Kristina! Someone’s here to see
you.
Beyond him, amazing Christmas
decorations swag staircase
railings, and the scent of turkey
roasting and bread dough rising
makes my mouth start to water.
A woman comes to the door.
I have dreamed of this face,
only a younger version of it.
Kristina. My mother. Curiosity
lights her eyes, only to be
replaced by sudden wonder.
Trey
, she says.
What are you …?
Then her eyes fall on me.