I hurry, struggling with every step because even though I no longer need a crutch, my leg still hurts.
Still can’t run.
Still can’t dance.
Can’t catch up to Dollie as she rushes off crying because Little Miss Spoiled Brat Dahlia is having a half-birthday party this evening. Despite knowing her now, we aren’t invited because weare those weird kids who live in that big, weird house on top of a big, weird-ass cave—her brutal words.
I hate that girl.
“Slow down. I can’t keep up! Mom and Dad won’t like you rushing off.”
She veers around and comes to a stop, long hair blowing in the wind as she tells me, “You told me earlier Mom and Dad aren’t home. They won’t know.”
A tear falls from her eye.
My rolling eyes stop me from seeing any more, and when I see her again, Dollie’s already like half a mile in front, at a fork in the road. She veers right when I’m sure the bus goes left to go home.
“Can you just, you know, not cry over that spoilt brat?”
Dollie doesn’t answer, still marching ahead and going the wrong way.
Six months here, and this girl still can’t find her way home. Granted, everything looks the same in this town, including the families and how they dress, all the perfect white homes… except for ours.
I stomp on Dollie’s shadow as I follow her down a long-winding path that feels like it goes on forever. The uneven concrete makes it hard to avoid cracks, and I’m terrified to step on one in case something awful happens. My mind teases that it will.
“Ambrose!” Dollie’s been saying my name right for a few weeks now, but I still call her Dollie. “Look!”
And I do, straight ahead to her, pointing into the distance, and that’s when I feel it, the deep crack below my sneaker and its sinister promise.
Something bad is about to happen.
I gulp down my nerves and hike my heavy school bag up onto my shoulder.
“There’s a playground. I don’t remember this.”
“That’s because you led us the wrong way home.”
“It looked the same.”
“Yeah, sure…” In fairness, it did, but my reply is still heavy with the weight of my nerves—ideas of what dreadful thing is about to happen waltz around in my brain.
“Can we go in?”
Hesitating, thoughts of her falling off something and breaking a bone taunt me. Dad’s voice follows them,‘You’ll never be happy if you let these false thoughts win.’
A puff of smoke leaves me as I take a deep breath, knowing that a broken bone has ruined my life already, but finally, I say, “Yeah, sure. If it’ll cheer you up.”
Before I know it, we’re both at the swing set. Our backpacks are ditched at the old wooden frame. The unicorn on hers faces the sky, gazing up at the black clouds.
“Let’s see who can go the highest.” There’s a minor lift to her tone…excitement.
“Hold on, I’ll give you a push.” I give Dollie a few pushes into the air, sending her soaring to the clouds, and then I sit at her side, using my good leg to boost myself.
“I’m winning.”
“Yeah, well, I helped you cheat.”
A low and genuine giggle slips through her sadness.
