A Letter to Delilah - Jaxson Kidman Page 0,101

you what. Let's order something. My treat. Just don’t tell your father.”

I opened my mouth, but my father was on the move.

He ran into the kitchen, his hands filthy from working all day. He was already drunk.

I stood up, unsure what to do.

“Spending all our money?” he growled at Mom.

She let out a yell. “We have no food. Our daughter is hungry.”

“This is your fault?” my father asked me as he turned his head to look at me.

I shook my head. “No. I’m okay. I’m fine. We were just playing cards.”

“Fucking lazy,” he yelled. “You two sit around here and spend money and eat food and get fatter. I’m the one working, trying to provide.”

“It’s okay,” Mom said. “Calm down. I’ll make something.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” my father yelled.

He lunged at my mother.

I screamed at the top of my lungs.

I had never screamed so loud in my life.

And it worked.

My father stopped dead in his tracks and reached for his ears.

He set his sights on me, but at least I had saved my mother. For now.

“Fly, baby, fly,” Mom yelled, and she clapped her hands together.

I turned and darted for the back door.

I had plenty of time to get away and there was no chance my father would chase after me.

I jumped into the night and took off.

I was still hungry.

I was afraid for my mother.

And we didn’t even get to finish the card game.

I put my hood up and bit my bottom lip.

I had at least another hour before I could go home.

By then my father would be asleep. The house would be safe to enter. Even if there was still no food.

I had casually walked the entire neighborhood, feeling stupid for feeling jealous of every house I saw that had lights on inside of it. I pictured a family sitting together, eating snacks and drinking soda, watching something on TV. Or maybe playing a board game together.

After circling around three times, I went a different direction.

Toward the hill that went up, over and into another part of town.

The bad part of town.

I knew what I was doing and who I was looking for by then.

Josh only seemed to come out late at night.

He was like me.

He always seemed to be on the run, but that running paused when we hung out together. He was so super cute. Nobody in school would ever believe me about him. Especially because he was older than me. So, I kept him as my secret. The way he made me feel. The things I thought about when I thought about him. Some of the stuff I had no idea what it meant, but I think I liked it.

I heard the sound of laughing.

Then it became giggling.

Snorting and giggling.

My eyes searched and I saw the flicker of a light.

No.

A flame.

Someone had a lighter burning.

The little flame off in the distance.

“Light it up, bitch,” someone said and giggled again.

“You guys are assholes.”

That voice was Josh’s.

“Come on,” another voice said. “Just a little bit. Fuck it. We have nothing going on. We took care of business. Now we celebrate.”

I kept walking closer.

Three of them were huddled together, around the flame.

Josh was a few steps away.

He looked around and finally saw me.

I froze in place and didn’t wave.

Josh grabbed someone’s shoulder. “Murph. Get the fuck out of here with that shit. Right now.”

“Are we busted?” a voice asked.

Murph looked back at me. “Oh, fucking right… you’ve got your thing here. Little Miss-”

“Move now,” Josh ordered.

“Save some for her,” Murph said. “You know they like it. They become even more of someone else when they-”

“I said to get the fuck out of here,” Josh yelled.

“Alright,” Murph said. “It’s good. We’ll be at the house. Lost until morning.”

They moved away and Josh jogged toward me with a container in his hand.

“Amelia, what are you doing here?”

“You don’t want to see me?" I asked.

“Of course I want to see you,” he said. “I just… sorry.”

“What were they doing?” I asked.

“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

“What's that?” I asked, pointing to the container.

“Some fries,” Josh said. “And loaded nachos. They were Murph’s. I don’t know how I got stuck carry-”

“Can I have them?” I asked in an embarrassingly fast way.

“Sure,” he said. “Let’s sit down.”

We sat down on the curb, our feet in the street.

I tried to act calm and normal as I tore open the container of food.

I sighed and groaned.

Then I blushed for making such noises near food.

The fries were soggy and cool.

The nachos were limp.

But

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