Finally, unable to hide her frustration any longer, Teddy grabbed Vicki’s hand. “Come with me.”
The two of them ducked and shuffled down the aisle, spilling popcorn as they went. “Teddy!” Vicki hissed as dogs barked on-screen. “Do you really think we should be doing this?”
They reached the theater doors, and Teddy peeked her head out into the hallway. No one was watching. Without giving Vicki another chance to balk, she grabbed her hand and pulled her into the next theater, where Blood Sacrifice was in progress. Both the movie and one of the actual sacrifices, if all the blood on-screen was to be believed.
The girls took their seats, and Vicki slouched down. “I can’t believe we did that and— Oh! What happened to that guy’s eye?”
“It’s all fake,” Teddy said, happily shoving popcorn into her mouth.
“I don’t know how you can eat at a time like this,” Vicki muttered before someone shushed them, and they watched the rest of the movie in silence.
When it was over, Teddy deposited her empty popcorn container in the trash can, said her goodbyes to a visibly shaken Vicki, and walked out to unlock her bike. As she rode the few blocks home, she felt exhilarated. Someday, she’d be old enough to see whatever gruesome, gory, disgusting movies she wanted without sneaking into them. Someday, she’d be able to do whatever she wanted. The thought filled her with a happy sort of anxiousness, a bubble in her stomach that rose to her heart and made her feel like she was flying.
And then, without knowing what was happening, she truly was flying. Over the handlebars, through the air, onto the pavement. Her helmet slammed onto the ground and her knees skidded through gravel. But the worst parts were the smash-pop of her arm as it struck the road and the searing pain that roared through her.
“Oh, no,” Teddy muttered. She was only twelve, but she knew this wasn’t good. Arms weren’t supposed to feel or look like this. She picked up her bike with her one working arm and dragged it beside her. Luckily, this had all happened a few houses away from hers, and no one had been outside to witness her spectacular crash.
She dropped her bike in the front yard and pulled herself up the steps, but stopped outside the door when she heard her parents through the open windows.
They were yelling at each other as usual.
“She was supposed to be home an hour ago!” her mother said, a thin, frantic note in her voice. “Should I call someone? I should call someone.”
Teddy already knew who “she” was. Sophia didn’t do anything to warrant yelling.
“Didn’t I tell you,” came her father’s voice, “that she was too young to be riding around the city by herself?”
“She rides within a three-block radius—” her mother started, but her father cut her off.
“This is a slippery slope. Do you understand? From day one, that girl hasn’t listened to anything anyone told her. If you let her keep running around town like that—”
“Then what?” her mother said dryly. “She’ll end up pregnant?”
Teddy held her breath.
“Maybe if she had a father who actually—I don’t know—did some parenting, then we wouldn’t be in this situation.”
“What situation?” her father asked. “Is me being miserable a situation for you? I can’t stand this. I can’t do this anymore. I—”
Teddy opened the door. “I’m home,” she attempted to say brightly, but her mother’s eyes widened when she saw her.
“Teddy!” she cried, running across the room. She grabbed Teddy and pulled her into her chest. “What happened?”
“Wrecked my bike,” Teddy tried to say nonchalantly, but she started crying. Not just because her mom was pressing against her arm (which she would later learn was, indeed, broken), but because she suddenly didn’t want to be hell on wheels. She didn’t want to be a grown-up who decided what to do. She didn’t want to hear her parents arguing or know that her dad was miserable with them. All she wanted was a hug from her mom.
“I’m getting blood on your shirt,” she said through her sobs.
“I don’t care about my shirt,” her mother said, leaning down to inspect her face. “Thank God you had your helmet on. Oh, honey. We’re going to the hospital.”
Teddy instinctively looked toward her dad to see if he was going, too, but he wasn’t standing there anymore, and Teddy’s mom didn’t call out for him.
In the car, Nelly’s “Hot in Herre” played on the radio as they drove in silence.