Page 55 of Peaches

Sorry, Mom. I’ll ask forgiveness for that one later.

I clench my hands into fists and wail on the kid’s face. Every time I hear him cry out in pain, I’m vindicated, justified, knowing I am making him hurt as much as his words hurt when he shouts them.

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” The kids shout as they cheer us on, although the kid under me is putting up little to no fight whatsoever as I pummel his face with my bare hands, all while he tries to shield himself causing me to claw at his hands attempting to break through.

“Grace Olivia!” my mother yells, seconds before I am being pulled off theloserkid beneath me. He’s thefreak. All of them are. Why do I have to force myself to be any more compassionate than them?

The brat scurries out from under me and I let him, knowing I did enough damage and I’m not about to fight my mother to get back at him. I give him a glare as he picks up his backpack and starts to run away, daring him to try and pick on my brother again. But just when I think they are giving a clean surrender, the asshole that was just taking punch after punch on the ground turns around and yells, “Archie the Airhead! Your whole family is retarded, you freak!”

I try and maneuver around my mother, but she holds me in a firm grip by the shoulders.

“How does it feel to get your ass kicked by a girl, youfreak!”

“Grace Olivia, what did I tell you!” My mother quickly scolds.

“Mom! You heard what they were saying! That’s not half as bad as what they yell at him at school! And the teachers don’t do anything! I had to!”

She picks up my backpack and grabs my brother gently by the shoulder. My brother, who miraculously isn’t the least bit bothered by what just happened.

Odd.

I guess if he can let it go, I should learn how to, too.

But the anger for all things unfair in thisstupidworld won’t let me! The world is what’sstupid! With all thestupidpeople in it! My brother excluded.

“You won’t have to worry about that anymore,” my mother says as she starts to walk away. “Archie won’t be going back to school.”

“He what?” I shout, as my mother stops in her tracks briefly before pulling Archie once more behind her and beginning to lead him home.

“Don’t upset your brother,” she scolds, although I can’t help but think he hasn’t been upset up to now, even after the shit I just kicked out of that kid, odds are he won’t be if I press it.

“Mom!”

“It’s done, Grace Olivia! Drop it!”

I watch her walk towards our house and see my father standing on the porch out of the corner of my eye. What ishedoing here? I see his anger grow as my mother scoots Archie through the front gate and tries to hurry him out of ear shot quickly, as my father no doubt mouths things that aren’t much better than the ones the kids were screaming a few minutes ago.

Usually whenhecomes around life gets messy for a long time after he’s gone. Something tells me my father is stirring things up like only he can, and I’d rather not watch.

He looks back at me and taunts me with evil eyes, but I don’t let them get to me. Turning quickly on my feet, I walk in the opposite direction and never give him the satisfaction of looking back.

He’s the reason Archie isn’t returning to school. I don’t have to ask, I already know. He’s ashamed of his own son and showing no remorse. Ihatemy mother for letting him boss us around. What’s more, Ihatethis whole town for acting the same. And even then, Ihatemyself because I know it might be what’s best for Archie, but what am I supposed to do without my best friend?

* * *

16 years old

“Come on, Grace,” Tommy groans, as his hands force themselves around my waist and he pulls me closer in the cab of his truck. “It’s been ten months. How long are you going to make me wait?”

It’s an irritated statement, not really a question, as I look up to my dim front porch, my curfew having past an hour ago, and wonder if it really would matter if I don’t go in until later. There is no sign of anyone waiting up, so what’s my hurry?

Well, the fact that I can’t stand to have Tommy’s hands on me should show for something, and may be the reason why I’m eager to get inside. But as he forces himself against me, bites down on my neck almost painfully, and proceeds to grab my hips tightly, I find myself giving into his advances if only because it feels good to feelwanted. To feeldesired. To feel, maybe,cherished, if for just a few moments longer.

All things I never got growing up. Not from my father or from any guy before him at school.

With all the misfortune life has thrown my way, I’ve never really experienced anything close to those kind of things. I’ve craved them, though, and God, I didn’t know how much I needed them, until now.

He lifts me and I allow it, as my hips straddle his and he wedges my body between him and the steering wheel.

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