Year 28 - J.L. Mac Page 0,12

Chick and a pitcher of beer at the Palmetto Grove Bowling Center sounds like heaven. I scroll through the contacts on my cell phone only to realize I don’t have his number. I would love to know whom else I might encounter tonight before I commit to going. I quickly open Facebook Messenger and fire away asking Chick for his cell number. Less than two minutes later my cellphone buzzes as a text comes through.

Get your fancy ass in your go-cart and come on over to bowl! This is Chick by the way.

Me: Hey! How do you have this number? It’s a national secret, you know.

I chuckle to myself.

Chick: Your momma gave it to me and your # ain’t no secret around here. She’d give it to anyone.

“But of course,” I mutter rolling my eyes.

Me: On my way. Anyone I may see that I don’t want to?

Chick: Nope. See you soon.

I slide off my twin bed and flip my suitcase open in search of something bowling friendly to wear. I come up with a pair of black skinny jeans and a cream chiffon and silk blouse that feels like a dream against my skin. I slip on my discarded Jimmy Choos and frown looking down at them. This won’t work.

“I wonder,” I say flipping on the light in my closet. It smells dusty and stuffy in my small childhood closet. I’m a little surprised to see mom hasn’t gotten rid of all this old junk. SAT study guides, cheerleading pom-poms, softball trophies, academic ribbons and yearbooks… and one old broken iPod Classic. I remember breaking it. Spider web cracks destroyed the screen, and I hated myself as soon as I had lashed out and shattered it. I flip the thing over and hold my breath seeing the thick black line drawn with a sharpie marker by Sy all those years ago—the same ink he had to regularly reapply as it wore away in our pockets and backpacks and the center console of my mustang and his jeep. On one side of the damned thing is my name drawn precisely and adorned with one heart and one flower and one squiggly doodle. On the other side of the line is his name drawn in bold, thick, capital letters and underlined with care.

S Y L A S

Ten years old…

“My momma said since I’m older I have to walk you home and make sure you get in the house since your momma is at teacher conferences and your daddy is working over time.”

“Sy you’re not even that much older than me,” I whine as though it makes perfect sense.

“But I’m a boy,” he says back.

“So?” I stop walking and fold my arms over my chest.

“Just walk, Rae. It’s hot,” he complains. I grumble under my breath and resume walking beside him. I keep my eyes down on the road, kicking rocks and pebbles I come across and doing my best to ignore him like Teddy told me to. My big brother is smart so I do as he tells me.

“Hey what’s that?” I mutter and run toward something shiny on the edge of the road where the bushy grass begins. I pick up the little rectangular object and flip it over then whoop loudly when I see what it is. “Ha! Look what it is!” I wave it out in front of me and Sy grins.

“That’s an iPod.”

“Oh man, I wanted one last Christmas but didn’t bother to ask. They’re expensive.”

“Well now we have one,” Sy says proudly.

“We? No way. This is mine. I found it.”

“No. We came up to it together. It’s half mine too,” he says like he knows anything at all.

“No way.”

“Yep.”

“I’ll just tell your momma that you are being mean and trying to claim my treasure.”

“Yeah, you could probably lie to everyone else but you ain’t lyin’ to me, Rae,” he smirks folding his arms over his chest like he just won something.

“I saw it first,” I growl.

“How do you know I didn’t see it same time as you?”

“I… well… I…” I stutter, trying to think of a good argument to shut him up. “Fine!” I snap and stomp my foot. “Only half yours, half the time.” Sy swings his backpack around to his front and digs out a black permanent marker. “What’re you doing?”

“We’re makin’ a contract,” he announces snagging the iPod from me. I frown as I watch him draw a line down the backside of the iPod and then write his name in big letters. He