Little Peach by Peggy Kern

Author:Peggy Kern
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2015-01-01T16:00:00+00:00

12

2700 SURF AVENUE, APARTMENT 6B CONEY ISLAND, NEW YORK

June 30

She acts like a doctor, but she doesn’t look like one. Her hair is short, braided into uneven cornrows. She’s old—older than my mom, and fat. Behind her left ear is a red star tattoo. There’s another tattoo on her chest, peeking from underneath her white tank top. A saggy bug—maybe a bee—and two faded words I can’t make out. Devon leans against the doorway of the bedroom, watching us.

She uses her hands to examine me. My teeth, my tongue, my arms. I lift my shirt. Take a deep breath. She presses the bruise on my thigh.

“That hurt?” I shake my head no.

“Good. Lie down.”

She pushes my knees apart and looks between my legs. Devon types into his phone, a toothpick in his mouth. I fix my eyes on the ceiling, wishing she’d stop or I could just disappear. I don’t want him to see me like this. I don’t want her looking at my body.

“Anything hurt?”

I shake my head no. She lifts an eyebrow.

“You sure?”

I nod.

From her suitcase she pulls out a small plastic bag. Inside is something that looks like a bracelet, but soft and wet.

“I’m gonna put this inside you. Like a tampon. After three weeks, take it out and you’ll get your period. Understand? I’ll bring a new one every month. If you feel sick, or if you don’t bleed when you should, tell your daddy and he’ll call me. Deep breath.”

Fingers. Hold still. Where’s Baby?

“You know how to put on a condom?”

I shake my head no. Kat tried to show me last night, but I wouldn’t look.

“A’ight. Well, you gotta learn. Kat’ll teach you. Always use one, so you won’t catch nothin’. Understand? Tricks hate ’em, but too damn bad. They wanna freestyle, they can drive themselves down to the track. All done. Sit up. Take this.”

I swallow another half a pill and wait for the warmth.

Devon smiles. “All good?”

“All good,” she says, and grips his hand, their chests touching as Devon brings her in for a hug.

“Queen Bee,” he says with shining eyes.

He’s not wearing a shirt. On the left side of his broad chest is a red star. “Kat needs a re-up on Oxy.”

“A’ight.”

“C’mon,” he says to me. “Ink’s waitin’.”

I lie on the couch, the man’s sweaty face just inches from my chest, the buzzing needle tight between his fingers. It digs into my skin, burrowing like an insect. Buzz, buzz. Stop. Wipe. Buzz, buzz. Stop. Wipe. Dip. Buzz. Buzz.

Flecks of blood hit my cheeks.

“Damn, yo. This girl can bleed. She get high last night?”

Devon shrugs.

The man looks annoyed. “Can’t hardly see what the fuck I’m doin’ here.” Wipe, wipe. Buzz. Buzz. “Fuck. Don’t get ’em high before you call me, D. They be bleedin’ all over my shit.”

There are four locks on the door. Four bolts, one that needs a key.

Devon flips on the stereo. Music thunders in the room. He opens my book bag, searches it, pulls out my school ID, and slips it in his back pocket.

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