Anna

The fluorescent lights cast a sickly hue over the sparse supermarket. It smelled like damp wood, acrid. There were only a few products, a few people. Standing at the register, Anna could feel her shoulders were slumped and cramping, but she didn’t care enough to stand straighter. Her feet throbbed and she welcomed the pain; it was the tangible feeling of working toward something. A woman pushed a squeaky shopping cart towards Anna’s checkout lane. The woman didn’t look up as she began quickly unloading her food onto the conveyor belt as if it could get her out of there sooner. It was a small town, but it wasn’t small enough for her to be on that side of town. Only when Anna, looking though half-closed lids, told her the total did she look up. The woman gasped quietly before a smile stretched across her face.

“Are you Jenna’s daughter?”

Anna jerked her head up, startled that someone who looked like this woman would know her mother. She only nodded and gave a weak smile.

“Oh my, oh my. You look just like she did around your age. How time does fly.” She was shaking her head like this was the craziest thing that could have happened as she inserted her card into the reader.

Anna felt as if she had been punched in the gut. She had to clench her jaw hard to avoid yelling at the woman, to avoid insulting her back. Anna furiously picked at her nails as her right leg began to bob.

“Hm.”

Anna wanted to avoid this conversation, grabbing the receipt so quickly she feared her dexterity would give out and she’d be left the fumbling mess this woman no doubt thought she was.

“I’m Abby. I went to high school with your mother. She was always so smart. So smart. Is she helpin’ people like she wanted to all those years ago?”

“Yep.” She was helping people get gas and cigarettes. She was helping keep the liquor store in business. Anna handed her the receipt.

“Well, you aren’t much of a chatterbox now, are you?” The woman gave her a honey smile. Anna responded with a curl inward of her lips and a raise of her eyebrows.

With a sigh as if to say, “children these days,” the woman went to the end of the lane to bag her groceries. The rustling of plastic rubbed Anna’s nerves as she glared at the clock to make it spin faster. Never had a stranger ruined her night faster.

At ten, Anna untied her supermarket smock and stepped into the star filled night. The moon guided her walk home, casting long shadows as she walked faster. She knew the Lankey’s had a dog, but she jumped each time anyway. With her house in sight at the end of the long street, she couldn’t help but feel conflicted. The safety of four walls from those that lurked at night was alluring until she remembered what that “safety” felt like: screaming and tired shoulders and eggshells. From the corner of her eye Anna could see a man depart from the shadows and step over to her. Her body pulsed as she broke out in a sweat and quickened her pace. This was the last thing she needed.

“Anna, hol’ up!”

Anna let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding and spun on Travis, hitting him square in the chest with flat hands and shoving him backwards.

“Don’t do that!”

“Hey, hey, hey. I was waitin’ for ya. There’s some real creeps around here, ya know what I mean? Just tryna keep my girl safe.” His hands were up as he backed away a step.

Anna couldn’t help but blush, no matter how many times she told herself she couldn’t get involved. She had to push every thought of Travis from her mind, but he made it so hard.

“Travis, get a grip. You’re one of the creeps.”

“I don’t creep.”

“Yeah, you just sell drugs to minors.”

“Look, do ya want me to walk ya home or nah? I can leave ya to whoever else is hangin around!” He yelled the last part, spinning around to address anyone that lurked behind trash cans or dilapidated houses.

“Fine, Travis, fine.”

He gave her a grin, the gold of his tooth glinting in the moonlight. He walked on her right, a sway in his step, and her right hand felt warm. It itched to close the gap and grab his. Ever since they were kids, Travis was there for her. This was his life; it had been for all eighteen years of it. And for all her years Travis was her comfort. She wanted more but she couldn’t have it. She knew she couldn’t have most things. At their front door, Travis gave her a wink and a wave before disappearing into the shadows. He never pushed her, never questioned her, he just wanted to be there for her.

Anna tiptoed inside, not wanting to wake Johnny or her mother who was snoring on the couch. When she finally laid herself on her bare mattress, her limbs sunk to the floor and her eyes throbbed. This was what success and hard work felt like.

***

Anna awoke to the sharp tone of her alarm. It was 6:00 a.m. and she bolted out of bed, knowing that if she rolled over into the warmth of her covers, she would never get up. Also knowing that if she stayed in bed, she would have time to think about the day ahead and that was enough to want to sleep forever. One day at a time wasn’t as easy as everyone made it out to be. In the dark morning light, she couldn’t see around her, and she could almost pretend that she lived somewhere normal, somewhere nice. In the middle of her room was a string which she pulled to illuminate her surroundings with a bare lightbulb. Twin mattress with threadbare blankets, small nightstand from off the side of the street, cluttered bookshelf, cracked mirror, blank walls. If she had anything to show a hint of her own identity, she knew her mother would use it against her.

She kept her arms above her head, stretching her slight frame. Sighing, she let her arms drop quickly with a slap against her thighs. She walked to her closet, pushing aside the few hangers she had to get to the back right corner. Her clothes felt worn and dingy against her fingers. There, in the back, she kept the one thing her father had left her. He had given her a sweater that belonged to her grandmother, cream with green and brown chevrons and big brown buttons counting their way down the front. It felt soft and new although it was a hand-me-down. Her eyes moistened ever so slightly as she held the beautiful piece of clothing in her hands. Even her best pair of jeans, straight leg with no holes, didn’t do the sweater justice but she wore it regardless. It was a special day.

Their house was a tiny box, two bedrooms and a bathroom on the left side all in a row. Each opened in a line out to the living room and the kitchen sat on the other side. There was no washer or dryer. Her brother had taken over the small kitchen pantry as his room since there wasn’t ever any food to go in there anyway.

She was about to turn left and walk toward the bathroom when she noticed her mother was still asleep on the couch. Loud snores floated through the still house. It was 6:15 and her mother should’ve been at the Gas Stop and Shop by 5 a.m. Clenching her fists, Anna no longer tried to be quiet. She wasn’t quiet for her mother; she was quiet for Johnny. Reaching the couch, she snatched the bottle of vodka her mother was cradling and set it on the end table without her mother stirring. Anna’s breathing was coming quick as she roughly shoved her mother awake.

“Mom. Mom! You need to get up. You’re late, again!”

Her mother’s eyes snapped open, and her lips twisted into a scowl as her eyebrows furrowed.

“Who are you to wake me up? You’re just a child.” She spit her words as if they left a bad taste in her mouth and each fell like weak punches on Anna’s numb heart. This was routine. She used to cry and yell back and defend herself, but she eventually realized there was no point. She was the adult, her mother the screaming toddler.

“You have no right to speak to me that way. I am your mother! Get out of my face. Leave!”

Anna only blinked at her, her face slack and emotionless.

“You need to work, or we’ll get kicked out.” Anna sighed, her eyes feeling heavy. Her wages and child support from her dad only went so far.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“No. Not whatever. You can’t lose another job and you know it.”

Her mother was slowly waking up, the hangover fog clearing enough for her to understand what Anna was saying. She glared up at her only daughter. “I’ll get up when I damn well please. Don’t you have something else you should be doing or are you as worthless as I think you are?”

“Okay, Mom.”

Anna turned and walked toward the bathroom, not even acknowledging the words her mother had spoken. She’d either learned to tune them out or she’d become used to being spoken to that way. Whichever it was Anna couldn’t tell but she knew neither was ideal.

Refusing to look at herself in the mirror, she ran a bent comb through her tangled, limp hair and quickly brushed her teeth, careful to use a small stream of water. They could only afford so much a month. Satisfied enough, she wound her way toward the kitchen, past her mother who was slouched on the couch, staring at the wall. Anna pulled open the pantry door and squatted down to watch her little brother sleeping in a tightly curled ball. The pantry was small but so was he. He looked so young then, like when their dad was still around, and Anna could run and play with friends. The memories were almost too much, too cruel; an alternate reality.

“Johnny. Hey, Johnny,” she whispered.

He began to stir, and Anna was met with a glare.

“Leave me alone,” he mumbled through the blanket he’d thrown over his head.

“It’s time for school. Come on, get up.”

Johhny whipped the blankets off his head and sat up, quickly getting in her face.

“Who are you to tell me what to do? You’re acting like Mom!”

Anna had to shove the rising heat down her throat like when her father had curb stomped the man he’d found in her mother’s bed. She was nothing like her mother. She was the opposite of her mother.

A scent sliced through her spiralling thoughts. Alcohol, stale and bitter.

“Johnny, let me smell your breath.” Anna tried to remain calm.

He backed away from her, shaking his head.

“I’ll get up, okay? Just leave me alone.”

“Johnny, I can smell it from here! You’re only twelve!”

Anna choked down the lump that had replaced the heat in her throat. She should have been there more, watched over him closely.

“Yeah, well you’re only fifteen! Stop telling me what to do!”

“Where did you get it? Who bought it for you? Was it Mom?”

“Why do you blame her for everything? You’re the one to blame!”

She blinked rapidly as she stumbled backwards, slapped by his words. She started shaking, her heart at a gallop. Not because of what he’d said but that he was able to say it. Not because of what he’d said but that she believed it. She was failing her family no matter what she did. She had one task, had made herself the leader, and nobody was following her. No matter what she did, it wasn’t enough, and she didn’t think it ever would be. She stood slowly.

“Get up. You have to catch the bus in thirty, I’m making breakfast right now.”

With that, she left the door open and began making instant oatmeal. She popped it in the dirty, off-white microwave and turned to triumph as Johnny was stumbling from his closet in mud-stained school clothes.

Anna ate in silence next to him and watched as her mother stomped from her room to the bathroom to the living room to her bedroom, on repeat. The hangover wasn’t over but her employment at the Gas Stop and Shop almost certainly was. Anna’s heart felt heavy as she watched her mother’s greasy curls make their way through the door without saying goodbye. The screen door slammed; at least it said something.

“Okay, let’s go, bud.”

With an eyeroll, Johnny grabbed his backpack and ran out of the door and toward the bus stop, his blonde hair waving the goodbye he never gave. Like mother, like son. Anna followed, her backpack slung across her shoulders and full of homework she tried her best to finish but could never manage to complete. Her feet dragged as she walked in the direction of her high school, keeping an eye on Johnny as he boarded the bus. At least he was getting to school. She allowed herself to sigh and release a small amount of tension in her shoulders. She had done one thing right today.

By the time she’d reached school, Anna’s steps were lighter. It was her only way out, and with each step toward the main doors she felt the stirrings of hope bubble inside her and swirl through her stomach and chest. Today would be a good day starting then, she could feel it. Or she wanted to feel it.

Anna was used to the looks, the smirks and whispers and glares. Maybe they weren’t all looking at her, maybe she was being paranoid. But she was embarrassed of herself so why wouldn’t other people despise her too? She gave weak smiles in return, holding true to the person she wanted to be. Each smile she gave was also a betrayal to herself, a knife in her gut, but she just kept smiling.

In English someone wrote “Anna the Anus” on her desk. Just keep smiling. In Math, Jared asked her out only to laugh as she nodded vigorously. Just keep smiling. In Science, Tracy called her sweater, her special sweater, ugly. Just keep smiling. By the time she reached lunch, Anna couldn’t take anymore. Each slight curled her shoulders more inward, pushed the corners of her mouth down ever so minutely. Her eyes remained glassy and vacant as she walked through the lunch line and scanned the room for an empty table.

That’s when Carly spilt her chocolate milk on Anna’s sweater. Anna couldn’t keep smiling as she stared down at her clothes, mind racing without stopping on a thought, tires spinning on ice. She looked back up at Carly who was covering her laugh with her hand. Anna’s face was hot, and her ears were hot as she stared with her mouth hanging open at Carly.

“Oops, so sorry!”

Anna turned and walked quickly out of the lunchroom, gripping the tray firmly in her hands and clenching her jaw. She ripped open the bathroom door and, because the big one was in use, she squeezed herself and her bag and her lunch into a small stall. The seat felt cool through her jeans and the tray was warm on her lap. A hotdog with crusty brown beans stared up at her; her least favorite lunch.

In her little stall she felt as if she were in her own world. It was just her and what she could see, and she liked that she couldn't see much. The toilet paper dispenser was broken, and the tampon container was missing its lid. Messages were scrawled over the door and Anna frantically searched for her name only to find it wasn’t there. She wasn’t the kind of girl to be talked about in bathroom stalls. People did that out loud in the halls.

What she did find, as she chewed the hotdog and stale bun, was someone’s slanted writing in Sharpie that said, “what’s the point?” The question snagged in Anna’s mind like a hangnail on a sweater. What was the point? Was there a point in trying to keep her family together if they didn’t want to be? Was there a point in trying to avoid a path that was practically laid out for her by her absent father and deadbeat mother?

The stall started to feel much smaller than Anna remembered it feeling. She was suffocating in the stall, suffocating in the life she was trying to force herself to live. She started hyperventilating as she dropped her tray to the side of the toilet and struggled to push herself up. She started sweating when her fingers fumbled to unlock the door and she didn’t realize tears were streaming down her face. A panic was rising inside her, a panic to get out, to break out.

She slammed out of the stall and ran out the bathroom door, then out the main doors. Anna stopped at the edge of the walkway and held up both of her middle fingers. She didn’t care; she wouldn’t be coming back. What was the point? She smiled a real, full mouth smile that stretched her cheeks for the first time in she didn’t know how long. A laugh bubbled up and she felt her chest open like doves flying from a magician’s hat. It felt reckless to make so much noise, to call so much attention to herself as she ran down the street with her arms out.

The birds were chirping outside, and the sun shone as she ran until the school was out of view. Between heaving breaths, she realized the sun was out for the first time in a long while. She tilted her head up towards it, let the rays warm her face. It must’ve been a sign. She took her time walking home, relishing in her newfound nugget of joy. By the time she was rounding the corner to her house, Johnny’s bus had already passed her, and she expected to meet him inside. What she didn’t expect stopped her in her tracks, all feeling replaced with a coldness in her limbs and a churning in her gut. What she didn’t expect to see was Travis, leaning on the chain link fence in front of their house, handing Johnny a six pack of beer and a pack of cigarettes.

“Hey! What the hell?”

Breaking out of her stupor, Anna began to run toward the two. Johnny bolted inside, his face a deer in headlights but she knew he didn’t really care that much.

“Travis? What the fuck?”

“Woah, woah, since when did you use big girl words like that?”

“You can’t seriously be trying to joke right now? You just sold my little brother, my twelve-year-old brother, alcohol and cigarettes!”

“Chill, he had the money. I was his age when I started making those kinds of decisions.”

“Ever think that people don’t want to be like you? That they shouldn’t be like you?”

She was yelling. She didn’t care anymore if people heard. They already had their opinions, why not prove them right?

“Ouch girl. You act like you’re all high and mighty goin’ to school and workin a regular job. Well guess what? You’re just like the rest of us ‘round here.”

He spoke as if he read her mind. She was starting to feel, deep down, like she had always been and always would be a part of the neighborhood. The neighborhood that the rest of the town avoids. They divert their eyes and their money from entering the vicinity. Anna could feel that the walls she had built were crumbling before, but now the bricks were falling exponentially faster. She spit down at Travis’ shoes and yelled in a squeaky voice from a raw throat.

“I don’t want to see you around here ever again!”

“Aw, Anna, you don’t mean that. I’ve always been here for ya.”

He stepped closer to her and ran his hand down her arm gently. The only gentle thing about him was how he treated her.

“What you just did proves you never were. Leave.”

She turned, not waiting for him to respond. She didn’t want him to see her struggle with what she’d just said.

“Anna, wait, one last thing-”

She let the door slam, let it say goodbye for her. The tightness in her chest was back and so was the feeling that she needed to fix everything. She hurried toward Johnny’s pantry, stopping short of the kitchen when she saw her mother burning her Gas Stop and Shop polo in the tiny backyard plot. She stood frozen, looking toward the pantry then back outside. Her chest was contracting, and she felt as though all the muscles were atrophying until they were small and tight, and her lungs had no room to expand. She knew that she should sit down and let them deal with their own problems. That’s the way they wanted it so that’s the way she’d let them have it. No longer would she care for people that didn’t care for her. She went and slumped into the rough couch; her arms folded in an act of defiance against herself.

She wasn’t that strong, though, and she wasn’t that cruel. She stood before she could argue with herself anymore and ran outside, the fire still burning, and the remnants of the bright blue polo were but small bits of cloth. Beer bottles littered the fire ring and her mother lounged in a broken cloth chair. She wanted to push her mother over and scream in her face and ask her why she had to be the way she was. Instead, she calmly treated her like a child that had already committed the act. You can’t yell because the child won’t listen.

“Mom, what have you done?”

“Honey, I quit! I’m gone, donezo, adios! That place was a shithole.” Her mother was making large circles with her hands, holding a cigarette in the right one.

“You needed that job. You can’t just keep quitting.” “Well, if you’re so set on being Mommy then I thought you should get the full responsibilities. You’re not doing a very good job right now. Figured I’d throw you in with the sharks.” Her laugh was reckless, zipping through the air like knives until they hit Anna and cut her deep.

“Fuck you.” Anna swallowed and stared at her mother, waiting for her next move. Never had she spoken to her that way.

“You ungrateful little bitch. I always knew you were a leech, just living in my house and not contributing anything. Now you have the nerve? Ohhh honey you’re in for a hard time.”

“I have done everything!”

“You have done nothing. You are nothing. That’s the truth of it.”

“You should have never been a mother.”

Anna turned to walk back inside. She didn’t make it three steps before glass shattered against the house to the left in front of her. Anna turned around, her face warm and she could feel the air coming into her open mouth but had to quickly turn back and run into the house as other bottles flew at her back.

She had told herself not to cry, repeated it over and over in her mind, but as soon as she opened the back door, she felt the tears trickle down her cheeks. She ran toward her bedroom, closing the door quietly and falling to the floor with her back against the door. She felt her face crumple like discarded paper, and folded her knees to her chest, hugging herself. She silently rocked in unison with her headache, her chest heavy as she took a gasping breath between drawn out sobs that stuck in her throat and rubbed it raw. Snot ran down her face and soon the sleeves of her sweater were wet with tears.

Anna began beating her head against the door. The pain and tangible feeling were the only reminders that she was there, that she was real because surely this life couldn’t be real. This was a life only found in movies or ads about poverty. It couldn’t be real, and she couldn’t be living it. And who was her mother to say she had done nothing? That she was nothing? Staring at the ceiling through wet eyelashes, Anna knew the first to be false, but maybe the second was true. Maybe that’s why her life was the way it was, because she really was nothing and therefore no good things had to happen because how could good things happen to nothing? She felt like a scholar, coming up with theories that she would work to prove true.

Anna reached up to grab the doorknob with her right hand and pulled herself up with it. She staggered, feeling lightheaded, and held her head with her left hand. She yanked open the door and made her way toward the front of the house, not knowing where she was going and not caring to know the answer. With her hand on the knob, she heard Johnny call out.

“Anna, wait.”

She turned, how could she not?

“What, Johnny?” It was harsher than she meant.

He flinched and Anna’s shoulders slumped. He did that when their mother spoke.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“For what, Johnny?”

“For getting the stuff and taking the money and for not asking.”

“You’re too young, you have a future. But not if you use that stuff.”

“Travis said everyone uses it.”

“Travis doesn’t know everything.”

“Well, neither do you.”

Johnny was getting defensive. He stood taller and kept her eye contact. She broke away and she swore she could feel her eyebags weighing her down. She turned and left without responding.

The sun was still out, blinding as it reflected off the cracked tar. Anna covered her eyes with her hand as she walked away for the first time. She had no idea where to go and she shuffled along the road mindlessly. She found herself walking past the market she worked, where she got their groceries and felt the stares of her co-workers as she spent each paycheck the day after she got it. She used to ignore everyone, to think there was no use falling into what other people thought. Maybe she didn’t know everything, like Johnny said.

As the sun descended, she walked past the school, the Gas Stop and Shop, the liquor store that her mother was banned from and the one that she was fired from, and the laundry mat she did their laundry in when she could get her mother to hand over even some coins from her check. That was it; that was all she knew of the town. That was all the town knew of her.

The night around had taken a piercing blue hue as she finally turned toward her house. Her knees and feet ached, and her head pounded as she walked through the ever-darkening streets. The noises in the shadows were no longer concerning; she didn’t care what they were. She felt like she was becoming a part of the crowd that comes out at night.

“Anna?”

She turned her head slowly, her eyes unfocused and blinking heavily. Travis. She gave him a weak smile but kept walking.

“Hey! Anna!”

He ran to catch up with her and grabbed her by the elbow of her left arm. She let him do it; she could hardly feel it.

“Hey, what’s goin on? You okay? Why ya out here so late?”

“Is it late?” They had fallen in step and were walking side by side. Anna’s eyes were unfocused on the ground in front of her.

“You don’t seem yourself.”

“Why did you sell that stuff to Johnny?”

“Aw, Anna, I gotta make a living and he’s twelve. He doesn’t need ya lookin over his shoulder all the time.”

“I’ve heard.” Anna was looking down at her feet, watching them move and trying to connect to the pain in them, to connect to the Earth and the moment.

“Why aren’t ya screamin at me? Ya do it every other time I do somethin small.”

“I just don’t feel like it, I mean, what’s the point in getting angry when it doesn’t even matter.” She sighed.

“What don’t matter? Whatcha talkin ‘bout?”

“Do you ever feel like we are set to go down a path from the very beginning and there’s no use fighting it because we’ll end up following it anyways?”

“Maybe. That’s for other people to think ‘bout, people smarter than me.”

“You’re smart.”

“No, you’re smart.” Anna looked over at Travis for the first time since they’d started talking. Under the streetlights she could see he was smiling at her softly, and his nose wrinkled slightly when he did. Holding her eye contact, he reached down and took her hand in his. He was warm.

“Happy birthday, by the way. Sweet sixteen.” Travis whistled long and low. “I didn’t get to tell ya earlier, I’m sorry I didn’t get ya nothin.”

Anna stopped and he stopped with her. Her looked down at her, his eyes searching her face. She had nothing to give him right then, no emotion, but she could feel something stirring in her gut.

“Thank you,” she whispered. She sniffled to keep everything inside.

“Okay, let’s get ya home now.”

Anna laughed.

“Home,” she repeated and then laughed again.

Travis was silent, and Anna preferred it that way. She didn’t have anything to say to him, but she did enjoy his presence. The warmth and roughness of his hand, his looming height, the way he remembered things when nobody else did. The way he cared when nobody else did. Maybe he was part of her path and she had been trying so hard to avoid him when in reality she couldn’t avoid him, this, them.

When they reached her house, Anna turned to Travis and threw her arms around his neck. He took a step back as she flung her weight against him but immediately wrapped his arms around her. Anna buried her face in between his shoulder and neck. She smelled sweat and the faint whiff of cologne, and his thick gold chain felt hard against her forehead. She longed to fall into his warmth, to squeeze until she became a part of him too. She felt his heart beating fast against her own and she was aware of herself, fully aware. It felt new, foreign.

“You’re okay,” he whispered as he rubbed her back.

She was okay now. A different kind of okay.

When her tiptoes got tired, she reluctantly pulled away and was immediately colder and lonely, even if he was standing right in front of her. He cupped her face in his hand.

“Night, Anna, I’ll see ya tomorrow. Get some shut eye, ya look like ya need it.” He winked and walked away, leaving Anna emptier than ever before.

Inside, her mother was nowhere to be found. Her cheap cell phone and housekeys were on the coffee table as the only sign she was still around. Johnny was locked away in his pantry. The house was still and quiet and empty. No lights were on, they couldn’t afford to keep them on, so the stars and streetlights guided her way toward her door. Before opening it, she paused and then turned toward the couch. It was her birthday, why not celebrate for once. She bent over and grabbed the bottle of vodka off the table where she had put it that morning. The neck she held it from was cool and smooth.

She went to her bed and sat, felt the divot she made and the hardness of the floor as she sank to meet it. She took a long, painful pull of vodka. It burned all the way down her throat, chest, and finally to her stomach. She coughed and spit some down the front of her sweater. It spread quickly, warming and numbing her limbs until, swig after swig, she felt like she was what she was meant to be, what her mother said she was, and her brother thought she was. Nothing.

It wasn’t until she looked at her hand and couldn’t focus that a thought finally made its way to the surface. Travis. He was the only thing that was better than what she had in that moment, the only thing that made her feel something. She stumbled to her door, the room spinning and her limbs not moving how she wanted them to. She found her way to the coffee table and flipped open her mother’s phone. She searched the short list of contacts until she found Travis. She knew her mom would have it.

On the fifth ring, Travis picked up.

“Hello?”

“Travis!” Anna yelled a bit too loud.

“Anna? What- it’s two in the morning bro.”

“Come celebrate with me,” she whispered this time, a small part of her nervous he would say no.

“Are you drunk?”

“Maybe.”

She heard him sigh, long and heavy.

“I thought you didn’t do that kinda stuff.”

“I do now. Please come over. Please, please, please.” Now who’s the child? She giggled at the thought.

“I’ll be right over, stay put and don’t do anything stupid.”

Anna hung up and ran to her room on jelly legs. She wanted to change, to look pretty, but she collapsed into bed. It felt like two seconds and Travis was in her bed next to her, his voice drifting through the cloud in her brain.

“Hey, hey. You just need to go to sleep, okay? I should just go home.”

“No! Stay! I want you here. Did you bring your friend?” She pulled lightly on his sleeve.

“Friend?”

“You know… Mary Jane?” Anna mimicked bringing her hand to her mouth, inhaling, and then blowing out. She giggled.

“Oh. You can meet her another time.” His face was a bit blurry, and she didn’t like how quiet he was.

“No, no. Right now, that can be my present! I want my first time to be with you.” Anna smiled up at him. She could feel the lopsided, lazy grin and somewhere realized she looked stupid but somehow didn’t care. She felt free; all she was thinking about was herself.

“Fine.”

She felt a surge of success as he dug into his pocket and came out of it with something she’d always been too scared to try because she knew it could only be the beginning. Right now, she wanted that beginning. He was about to light the blunt when her door flew open and Johnny stood in the doorway, mouth open.

“Anna! What are you doing?” She only stared at him, fighting the urge to apologize and promise she’d be better. Her heart throbbed as he looked at her with his lip raised and eyebrows furrowed. His hands were on his head like he’d just heard terrible news.

“Anna, who’s going to take care of Mom, of me, if you’re like this?”

“Johnny, I don’t know anything, remember? You’ll be just fine without me telling you what to do.”

“I never said that!” He was moving his arms hysterically.

“You meant it. So did Mom.”

“Anna, you aren’t thinking!”

“You’re right, I always think and now I’m not. Your turn.” Her lips felt numb as she stumbled her way through the conversation.

Johnny stomped over to her, grabbed the vodka bottle from the floor, glared at her and Travis, and stormed out.

“Aw, Anna, what happened to you?” Travis was shaking his head as he reached over to run his fingers through his hair. He was so gentle with her, only her, and he smelled so nice.

She knew she should be feeling a lot of things, but right then she looked up at the ceiling, the one she had looked at so many times for so many reasons, searching for so many answers, and she finally had one. She felt weightless, her limbs sprawled on the bed and over Travis. Her eyelids were heavy, and her mouth tasted sour. She sighed; she had finally given in to what she was always meant to be.