Leap by Jodi Lundgren

Author:Jodi Lundgren
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: coming of age, sexuality, modern dance, teen
Publisher: Second Story Press
Published: 2011-05-26T16:00:00+00:00

September

Wednesday, September 1st

Got hold of Sasha on her cell. She’s just moved into an apartment with her dad. We’re meeting up tomorrow so I can give her the backpack. We can’t hang out long because tomorrow Mom’s taking Paige and me back-to-school shopping.

Thursday, September 2nd

Sasha and I picked a park midway between my house and her new place as our meeting spot. When I arrived on my bike, the park was deserted except for a little girl twisting on the kiddie swing set. She was hanging her head so that her long, straight hair fell in a curtain over her face. Her hair shifted and swayed as she moved on the swing. I was wondering where her guardian was—little kids are never allowed out by themselves like that, at least not around here—when she flipped up her head and looked straight at me. It was Sasha, her legs bent up underneath her. It jolted me, as if she had just snuck up behind me and said, “Boo!” I managed to wave. I pedaled across the bumpy field, set the pack on the grass, and crammed my body into the neighboring swing.

She didn’t look at me or the pack. I asked her how she liked her dad’s new place and she shrugged. I fingered the swing’s chains and waited for her to speak. She sat there in silence.

Finally, I gave her an opening. “You know the dress?” I nudged the bag. She winced. “Monique and I, uh …”

When I hesitated, Sasha jerked her head in alarm. “You what?”

“We, uh … got rid of it.” It sounded like we’d dumped a body in the river. I laughed nervously.

Her face relaxed for a second, then she frowned and hung her head. “Good.” She pushed the swing back as far as she could, kicked up her legs, and yanked on the chains. Her back tipped so that she faced the sky. On the return pass, she tucked her legs out of the way and just cleared the ground. She pumped hard till she reached maximum height. The whole set vibrated. But the swing hung so low that the instant she loosened the tuck, her knees scraped the ground. “Oww!” She howled and projected her legs, rocking back and forth in an L-shape until the momentum died down. “Fucking kiddie swing.” She inspected her knees. Dirty abrasions welled with blood.

“You should clean those up.”

She eyed her scrapes: raw red patches and tiny curls of white skin, smudged with dirt.

“Don’t they sting?”

She shrugged again. “So what?”

More silence.

Finally, I spilled. “I saw you running down the street that day with a pair of jeans flapping behind you. Then later we heard that your dad came and got you. You got caught, didn’t you?”

“So?”

I wasn’t expecting that. It took me a second to come up with something else to say. “So … I bet your dad was pissed off.”

She tsked. “He treats me like a fucking criminal!” She spat on the ground and rifled in the pocket of her windbreaker.

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