What Lies Beyond the Veil(Of Flesh & Bone #1)(66)

Rondell takes in a big breath, then lets it out in a loud sigh. “My Pops was a cool dude,” he starts, staring off into nothin’. “He was real funny and could make everybody laugh. But sometimes . . .” His voice trails off, but I wait without speaking. Eventually, he starts back up.

“Sometimes, he would get mad. Real mad. And when my Pops was mad, everybody was in trouble. Especially me.” Rondell shrugs, like he can shrug away the memory just by trying. “So I would come here, for some peace and quiet.”

I don’t speak, but I nod. Rondell’s daddy was a lot like my daddy. As much as I loved Daddy, I also loved it when he was gone for hours or even days. That time, when he was away, was the only time it felt like we could stop trying so hard; when we could just breathe.

“So, why you run away?” Rondell asks, changing the subject. I sit there and think for a while. At first, I ain’t know if I was ready to open up to Rondell. But now that he’s opening up to me, I think maybe I should.

“Remember when I asked you bout your brother? And you said he don’t talk to you much when his girlfriend’s around?” Rondell nods. “Well, I got a sister. And that’s how she acts, but all the time. She ain’t even got no boyfriend, but she still don’t talk to me.”

Rondell shifts on the worn wood so that his face is right in front of mine. I swallow, hard, then continue.

“My momma left us here in Lansing, me and my sister, with our Granddaddy. And I like him well enough, but it just don’t feel right to all be so far apart. Me and Nia and Momma and—” I stop, realizing that I almost forgot bout Daddy dying. “It’s just not right, being here,” I finish.

Rondell don’t respond, just keeps staring at me. I start to feel uncomfortable cause his eyes are moving back and forth too quick and he keeps licking his already wet lips. Then he begins sneaking his hand toward the part of my thigh not covered by my too-short shorts. I cross my legs, quick, to make him stop.

“Can we go back to the pool?” I say. All at once, I realize how far away I am from everybody. Granddaddy’s out on some lake, Nia’s with that boy, even Porsha and Dominique seem real far from this dumpster with Rondell.

“Why you wanna do that?” Rondell asks, scooting closer. “I thought we was gon’ have some fun.” This Rondell, now, is different from the Rondell that just told me bout his daddy. And different in a way that’s making me feel like I need to leave, fast.

“What you mean, fun?” I ask, tryna scoot away. But Rondell hooks his arm around my hips and pulls me back, even closer now. My body feels frozen.

“You know”—Rondell tilts his head—“fun like this.” He leans in like he’s gon’ kiss me. I ain’t ever kissed a boy, or even came close. Some of the girls in fifth grade said they started kissing boys when they was nine, but I don’t believe that. Mostly cause boys our age act too scared to try stuff like that.

“How old are you again?” I ask Rondell.

“Same as you, remember?” Rondell smiles, sweet.

“Oh, you just turned thirteen, too?”

“Yeah, thirteen.” Rondell starts creeping toward my thigh again, so I pretend to swat a fly, but I don’t say nothin’, cause if he lied bout how old he is, he gon’ lie some more.

“I just remembered I gotta go,” I say too loud, standing up too quick.

“Where you gotta go?” Rondell asks, then says, “Wait, ain’t you running away? You ain’t got nowhere to go.” He grabs my wrist and pulls me back down, hard. I wince and pull away. I want him to stop. I ain’t even pretending to be happy no more.

“I’m going home,” I say, hoping he can’t hear the shake in my voice. But I think he does, cause then he pulls me so close he can touch me like he wants. And he does. Touches me and touches me. I wanna scream, but I know it won’t matter cause I ran away from anybody that might care. Instead, I watch a half-smushed fly, dying on the edge of the dumpster. The fly raises his wing, waves it at the other flies. But they all just keep buzzing around the trash, unbothered.





9





Rain splatters on my face, drip-drop, til I gotta wipe it away. My arms hurt when I lift them to my face. My face hurts when I wipe away the raindrops.

I been laying here a while. I don’t count nothin’, just lay here, doin’ and feeling nothin’. When I don’t count, time drags craters cross my mind that I try not to fill. Counting calms me down when things ain’t goin’ right. It gives me something else to focus on, besides my spinning thoughts. I started counting stuff the day after Daddy died and ain’t stopped. Til now.

Rondell left when it was still sunny. After seeing my panties a second time, then shoving his hands up in ’em til I thought I would rip right in half. I’m scared if I look now, I’m gon’ see blood.

I don’t know why he left when he did. He kept laughing and laughing and stabbing his fingers. I thought he wasn’t gon’ ever stop, but then he just got up and ran off, like he knew he was gon’ get caught. But nobody ever came.

I’m happy for the rain, cause people leave from the pool in loud, laughing groups. Car doors open and close; motors rumble to a start, then fade away in the distance. Eventually, when all the noise is gone, I push myself up to sittin’.