Reclaiming the Sand(10)

The girl turns around and her lips curl up. Was she smiling at me? Maybe she was nice. Maybe we’d be friends.

It would be nice to have a friend. I don’t think I ever had one before.

“What the f*ck is your problem?” she asks, her lips still looking like a smile.

I frown, not understanding her question.

“Your hair was on my desk,” I said. She is pretty. I like the way she looked. Except for the metal in her eyebrow and her nose. Those aren’t pretty. Why did she put them there?

I point at the ring in her bottom lip. “Why did you do that?” I ask her.

The girl’s lip curls again. I can’t tell if she is smiling now.

“None of your business, freak,” she spits out.

I rock back in my seat. She isn’t smiling. She doesn’t want to be my friend. She is really mean.

I put my head down and tuck my hands into my lap, rubbing them furiously.

“What are you doing? Jerking off?” she asked me, her voice sounding not nice at all.

She leans down and looks under my desk to where I am rubbing my hands. Up and down. Over and over again.

“Fucking freak,” she hisses before turning around. And then she lifts her long purple hair and drapes it all over my desk.

I try poking it with my pencil but she keeps shaking it back in place. It covers my book and papers.

“Move your hair!” I yell, knocking my book off the desk and onto the floor.

The room is silent.

Everyone is looking at me.

I hate when they look at me.

“Mr. Hendrick, I think you need to leave,” Mr. Goodwin said, pointing to the door. Keeping my head down I leave the room. But I look at the purple haired girl before I do.

This time I know she is smiling at me.





-Ellie-

I laughed. An honest to god laugh. The hairy body pressed into me, a long, slobbery tongue darting out between black lips.

I nuzzled my face down into the furry neck and let myself smile. This was the only place I let myself do that.

The large dog bounded out of my arms and ran to fetch the rubber toy I had thrown. I grinned like a mad woman as I watched the light brown furry thing shake the toy in his mouth before bringing it back to me and dropping it on the ground at my feet.

“Good boy,” I cooed, scratching a spot behind his floppy ear.

“You should adopt him. You’re the only one he listens to,” a voice said from behind me. My smile dropped but my hand kept scratching the spot behind the dog’s ear.

“I don’t have time for a dog,” I said gruffly, forcing myself to remove my hand from the inviting warmth of fur.

Erin Hoffman, the director of the Wellsburg Animal shelter, gave me a smile that I didn’t return. She was about ten years older than I was and lived for her job. Good for her. I could admit, even to myself, that it would be nice to be dedicated to something…anything…like that.

I rarely said much during my volunteer hours at the shelter. Erin and I had only engaged in minimal exchanges. It’s not like I was there out of the goodness of my heart.

I had been given court ordered community service after getting caught with Stu and Shane vandalizing the old covered bridge outside of town over a year ago. We had been drunk. Stu had convinced us it would be hysterical to spray paint a cock and balls on the side.

It hadn’t been so funny when the cop car had driven by. And it was even less funny when I had been wearing handcuffs and taken downtown for processing.

I had been put on probation and was given a list of places where I could volunteer in order to “better the community.” My probation officer, Mr. Cox (go ahead and laugh, I did) thought the animal shelter would be a good fit.

“Since you’re not exactly a people person,” he had told me. And he was right. I wasn’t fond of people. Not even the ones I spent time around.

But I liked animals. Always had.

Animals didn’t hurt you. They loved unconditionally. They gave you their heart without expecting anything in return.

I appreciated that.

Erin didn’t push me. She had quickly learned that pushing didn’t get her anywhere with me. This wasn’t the first dog she had tried to foist on me. But this was the first time I had considered taking her up on the suggestion. Murphy, the furry critter in question, pushed his head into my hand, a silent order for me to continue my administrations. I curled my hand into a fist, refusing myself the brief happiness.

Erin rubbed Murphy’s head and his tongue lolled out of his mouth. If I had a heart, he would have made it melt.

“Come on boy, let’s get you back in the cage,” I said, annoyed by Erin’s presence.

“No, don’t put him back yet. He needs more exercise. I just wanted to check on him. You know he’s been here for three months already,” Erin said, not looking at me, her focus on the dog at my feet.

My stomach clenched. “Yeah, I knew that,” I said shortly. I also knew that funding for the shelter was bare bones. Space was limited. And with new animals coming in every day, there was only one thing left to do when dogs and cats weren’t adopted.

“We’re going to need his cage pretty soon,” Erin said, her eyes soft as she watched Murphy bound across the enclosed yard to chase a squirrel.

He had been brought in as a stray. No one ever came to claim him. He’d been tossed aside. Forgotten.