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Authors: Ellen Hopkins

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that something almost did. Still might.
Alex Thinks It’s Romantic
I guess it is, and not so very long
ago, I might have encouraged Mom
to send Dad packing. Now I think
they need each other in a profound
way. Of course, that could change
after . . . Weird, but I haven’t really
allowed myself to think much about
after. I hear Mom in the hall, talking
to Gram. In the hall! I poke my head
around my door. “What’s going on?”
Neither looks panicky, so it can’t be
anything major. Mom looks at me
with dark-circled eyes.
Drew chased
us out. He said I stink. . . .
She sniffs
her armpits, runs a hand through
her limp hair.
Okay, he’s right.
Gram jumps in.
Actually, he said
he was hoping to watch a Barney
rerun and for your mom to take
a nice, hot bath. He’s a dear, isn’t he?
Considering
Mom has barely left Shelby’s room
to even take a piss, Drew
is
a dear.
“You deserve a hot bath, Mom.”
But she shakes her head.
I agreed
to a quick shower. At least I’ll smell
better. And I’ll grab a bite to eat.
I made a nice shepherd’s pie,
says
Gram.
Tell Alex there’s plenty, and
it’s ready.
The ladies part ways, Mom
to the shower and Gram to the kitchen,
which is starting to leak some amazing
scent. “Yo! Alex! You hungry?”
I have no idea what shepherd’s pie is,
but my stomach’s growling. I haven’t
eaten a whole lot the past couple of days.
Food is probably a good idea, and maybe,
for just a half hour or so, sharing the dinner
table can make us feel something like normal.
Alex

Sharing the Table

Breaking bread in the literal

sense, passing butter and salt,

midst meaningless conversation,

we are immersed in

living.

But as hard as everyone

tries to appreciate Drew’s gift

of time, the small talk shrinks

all the way to minuscule

and

then dissipates completely.

Nice while it lasted—

a half-hour vacation from

the crushing wait for

death.

It’s hard being here, where

I’m reminded of fate’s

cruel nature and my fears

are

intensified. But Shane needs

me, so I come and stay or

take him away for a while.

Love and sacrifice are

inextricable.

Harley

Love Is Weird
Last weekend I still thought
I was in love with Chad.
But then he went and made
it clear he considers me
his little sister and kissing
me would be sort of like
incest. He’s full of it, but
whatever. Anyway, I was still
all crazy for him right up
until last night. Now the only
guy I can think about is Lucas.
He’s totally amazing. And we
already kissed! I was so scared
I’d mess it up, I almost pulled
away when he tried. Instead,
I went ahead, and it was perfect.
The Perfect Kiss
Is
not too rough
not too sweet
not too slobbery
not chapped.
It’s
a gentle joining
an even building
a total melting
together. Hot.
It’s
a tilt of the head,
a slick slide of lips
a sublime exploration
tongue touching tongue.
And now
I know the perfect
kiss isn’t between
Chad and me. It’s
between me and Lucas.
And, for Once
Bri and I are on the same page.
She and Kurt made out too.
I spent last night at her house
and we talked instead of sleeping.
“Lucas’s really cute, don’t you think?”
Yeah, but not as cute as Kurt.
“Did Kurt kiss better than Chad did?”
Lots!
But she didn’t give details.
“I wish Lucas went to Carson.”
Yeah, but at least he’s got a car.
“I know, right? That’s so awesome.”
Will your mom let you ride with him?
“Probably not. But Dad might.”
Dad Is Pretty Distracted
He and Cassie got engaged.
They’re shopping for a ring today.
I guess I’m happy for them.
Actually, I’m pretty happy all
the way around today. Saturday,
and Mom just picked me up to take
me back to the rib cook-off.
Sorry
I couldn’t get there last night.
We’ll make up for it today, though.
“No problem. We had fun, even
without you.” More fun than she wants
to know about. But I can’t
not
tell her
about Lucas. What if he calls? What
if we happen to see him today? “So,
uh . . . guess what?” She seems to be
about a million miles away
because it takes several seconds
before she finally says,
What?
I Almost Chicken Out
But she’s my mom. She should know.
In fact, she should be happy for me.
“I, uh . . . I’m kind of going out
with someone.” Again, the slight
delay before the news sinks in.
Going out? What does that mean?
“You know. Seeing each other.”
A slight exaggeration, but still.
Seeing each other? Since when?
And who are you talking about? Chad?
“No, not Chad. His name is Lucas,
and we just got together.” I don’t
say where, or how, and I don’t tell
her he has a car. “He’s really nice,
Mom. You’ll like him. Can you
believe I’ve got a boyfriend?”
No. I mean, yes. I mean, of course
I can believe it. I just hope you’ll be . . .
“Careful? I will, Mom. I remember
everything you’ve told me about sex
and why I should wait. I don’t plan
to have sex with Lucas. I’m too young,
and anyway, he and I just met. You
have to fall in love to have sex, right?”
Actually, you don’t. A lot of people
who aren’t in love have sex. But I
promise it’s a lot better with someone
you love. I’m glad you understand that.
I haven’t even considered sex.
Kissing is as far as I’ve fantasized
about going. Now I’ve done that,
though. When will I want to do more?
“More”
Is pretty much everywhere
as Mom and I walk around
the cook-off, checking out
craft booths, listening to music
and, of course, munching ribs.
It’s like I never really noticed
how guys slip their arms around
their girls’ shoulders, then let
their hands wander, or how some
girls even encourage that.
It’s like I totally missed how
some girls walk their fingers
up their boyfriends’ thighs,
all the way to where they must
be touching very personal body
parts, or how that makes those
guys kiss them—not romantically,
but more kind of crazy. It’s hot!
And I’m glad Mom doesn’t notice
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