Chapter One

I was seven years old and I was mad as hell. I had been riding Emmet’s skateboard, even though he told me not to, and I had fallen off. My knees were scraped and so were my elbows. I didn’t just fall off of the board because I was a terrible rider. I was pretty good and getting better all of the time. I fell off because the punk big kid from a few streets over pushed me off. Benny was such a bully. He was Emmet’s age but he was always picking on kids my age.

Emmet was my best friend’s older brother, but he was a lot like my brother, too. We argued a lot and he was always yelling at me not to touch his stuff, but like the skateboard, I always did anyway. Even though I had no business being on that skateboard, when Benny pushed me Emmet dropped the basketball he had been bouncing around in the street and took off after Benny.

“Don’t ever touch my sisters!” Emmet yelled after he bloodied Benny’s lip. Benny ran away crying while I tried hard not to cry. Boy did my skinned knees and elbows burn.

“Are you okay, Donya?” Emmy asked, bending over me. She pushed strands of loose hair off of my forehead.

“I hate that kid!” I snarled and pushed myself to my feet.

“Come on, brat,” Emmet said. He picked up the skateboard in one hand and took my hand with his other. “Mom will give you a bandaid.”

Emmy took my other hand and we headed across the grass to the house.

“What in the lord’s name happened to you?” Samantha Grayne asked with her hands on her hips. She was wearing a flowery apron that I really liked. I liked her aprons. She always looked like a TV mom with her perfect blonde hair and big green eyes. But she wasn’t like a TV mom. She was kind of loopy.

“Benny pushed her off of Emmet’s skateboard,” Emmy said, stomping a foot. “I hate him!”

“I told you to stay off of my board anyway,” Emmet said, plucking me square in the forehead.

“Ow,” I murmured, rubbing the spot.

“Did you kick his ass?” Samantha asked her son.

“Yes, I kicked his ass,” he said, standing up straighter.

“Don’t curse,” she admonished and then put her hand on my shoulder. “Come on, honey. Let’s go get you cleaned up. You should feel blessed that you have a brother like Emmet.”

Blessed? He just plucked me in the forehead!

I stayed for dinner, like I did most days after school. I had my own place at the table, between Emmy and her dad Fred at the head of the table. He talked to me like I was one of his kids. Besides Emmy and sometimes Emmet, he was my favorite. My other “brothers and sisters” were okay, but they were so much older than me and I didn’t understand those mystifying teenage years.

After dinner, Samantha packed up a bag full of food for me to take home for my parents. My dad wouldn’t be home from work until it was almost my bedtime and my mom didn’t cook much. She didn’t clean much either. She didn’t do much of anything but sleep and watch television. Sam said my mom was sick, but I never saw any tissues or anything, so I wasn’t sure about that.

Sam told Emmet to walk me home. He argued. He was tired of me and Emmy. He put up with us all afternoon and even beat up Benny for me. Why couldn’t Freddy or one of the other girls take me home.

“Boy, if you don’t pick up that bag and walk that girl home I will slap your head sideways,” Samantha threatened.

Emmet huffed and he puffed and picked the bag up.

“Can I walk with them?” Emmy asked, hanging by the door.

“You need to go take a bath and get ready for bed,” her mother said. “You look like hell. How do you get so dirty? What happened to your hair anyway?”

Emmy rolled her eyes. “I like my hair in a side ponytail, mom. You always put it where I don’t like it. So I fixed it.”

“Well, it looks stupid,” Samantha spat out.

“Your shirt looks stupid,” Emmy sassed. “Nobody likes stripes anyway.”

“Let’s go,” Emmet growled, snatching up my hand. We stepped outside and the door closed behind us. I could hear Emmy and her mom arguing a little bit.

Emmet was quiet. He was probably still mad about the skateboard and then having to walk me home. He always got stuck walking me home. It made my chest feel funny to know that he was mad at me.

“I’m sorry you always have to walk me home,” I said quietly.

He looked down at me with green eyes. “It’s not your fault.”

“I come over every day. I can maybe not come over so much and you won’t have to walk me home every day.”

We were quiet again until we were almost to my house.

“You have to keep coming over,” he said when he started to talk again.

“Why?” I asked.

We stopped at the end of the sidewalk that leads to my door. He handed me the bag. It was a little heavy, but I tried to pretend that I could handle it.

“You’re special to my family,” he said. Then he plucked me in the forehead. “And you’re kind of special to me, too.”

He pointed to the house. I walked up the sidewalk, up the two steps and pushed open my front door. My mom was sleeping on the couch with the television on. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at me and smiled, but it wasn’t a real smile. It was one of those smiles people give to kids when they really don’t feel like smiling at all.

I looked back at Emmet standing on the sidewalk. He made a waving motion like I should go in the house. He looked like he was ready to go. I waved, but just before I closed the door, he shouted “And stay off of my skateboard!”

Emmet had made my chest feel funny again when he told me I was special to him, but it was a different kind of funny. It made me feel like giggling and crying at the same time. I never forgot the day he said that and the way it made me feel and the way his green eyes looked at me. Like I was special.

Special or not, I didn’t stay off of his skateboard.

Available April 4, 2014

© 2014 L.D. Davis