Part 14 (1/2)

I wash my hair with coconut shampoo.

Scrub my skin with lemongra.s.s soap.

When I'm through, I am almost clean.

The Afternoon Is Looking Long I need to get out of here. I could call Sean. He'd probably stop lifting long enough to do something with me. But we haven't seen all that much of each other since the night I basically threw myself at him and he left me still a virgin.

Not sure who was more embarra.s.sed.

Instead I try Dani, who answers right away. Almost as if expecting my call. Was she? ”I was wondering if you had plans for today.”

Glad you called. No plans. What did you have in mind? In mind?

”I don't know. Just have to get out of the house for a few.” Hours, that is.

Movie? No. I want to talk, get to know her better. ”It's pretty out today. We could take a walk.”

She agrees to meet me at Rock Park.

It's A Twenty-Minute Drive In my stomach is a tentative flutter, moth wings against a muted light.

On the radio (some kind of sign?), Katy Perry sings about kissing a girl.

And liking it. I take myself back to that day in the trees. Kissing Dani.

And liking it so much it made me turn feeble in the knees. Did kissing Sean ever make me feel that way?

I don't think so. Don't think kissing any boy ever made me feel that way-like standing at the brink of a very tall cliff, wind at my back tipping me forward, the rock beneath my feet starting to crumble, but not afraid to go slipping into the unknown. I could retreat from this place. Instead I take a deep breath, plunge into some mysterious s.p.a.ce. And I like it.

The River Is High Winter-fed currents rush down- stream, chew at the rocky banks.

Dani sits on a picnic table, watching a few intrepid kayakers, and even in profile, she defines stark beauty-all steep slopes and sharp tilts and spikes of russet hair. I call her name, and when she turns, her smile is like April sun on the March snow drifted deep inside me. Just seeing her has lifted the morning's weight.

She senses something, or it shows in my eyes. You okay? What's wrong?

I could say nothing, but why lie?

”It's a long story. Let's walk.”

We start down the riverside bike path, and I begin my lurid saga.

Cool, distant father. Frigid, twisted mother. Sad, sick twin.

When I get to the stuff about Emily, Dani's fingers knot into mine. Wow.

That's like something you see on TV.

But darlin', you're not the only one with a messed-up family. My mom left us for heroin when I was six.

She OD'd a couple of years ago.

In between, she was turning tricks, and got pregnant with my little brother.

She came crawling back. Dad was great.

He took her in, and when she left us for smack again, he raised Caleb like his own. We were doing okay, except when Mom died, Caleb freaked out.

Like she'd ever been his mom, you know?

Anyway, he fried his brain on ecstasy.

Stole a car and drove it the wrong way down the freeway, head-on into a semi.

He was only fourteen. So now it's just Dad and me. Everyone else is dead.

Her Hand Trembles In Mine And now it's my turn to be strong.

I stop. Pull her very close to me, swim into the glittering pools in her eyes.

”I'm sorry.” She nods, parts her lips, and when our mouths meet, it is with urgency. Need. l.u.s.t. And understanding that this might be only the beginning.

We feed on each other. Draw strength from the nourishment. We are alone here, but were we not, I wouldn't care who might be watching as we wrap each other in each other, caught up in a net of desire so strong there can be no breaking free. Her skin is softest leather.

Her tongue, b.u.t.ter melting on mine.

She smells of ginger. Tastes of mint and strawberry. She is angle. I am curve. Together, we are geometric sculpture, and we make perfect sense.

But just how far am I willing to go?

Kendra

How Far Down can this one drop me?

Will it plummet me into a no- man's-land so pleasure-dense that memory can't follow?

How high will this one launch me? Will I soar above this pain-infused planet, no fear, and no desire to ever turn back?

Who knew so many answers might be found inside little amber bottles? Sad?

Pop a pill. Fat?

Run screaming for the medicine chest.

Calorie counting becomes obsolete when all you want to swallow is water and Mommy's Little Helper makes that happen for you.

I Don't Know Why It took me so long to find my way to Pharmaceuticalville. I guess I thought pill popping was for losers. People who couldn't hack reality. Couldn't control themselves or conquer their weaknesses.