he did give me a ride home, though, from school. he did do that. i mean, nothing, not a look on the outing, sits way away from me on the bus, but back at our building, see, he’s responsible for us, and all the parents are there, this is a friday, and my dad doesn’t show. he doesn’t show up. we go into the office, call his work, nothing at home, and he doesn’t come. half-hour goes by, nobody at school but us. sitting there on the curb, waiting for my dad. finally he says, my teacher, he can drop me if i want. he drove this late model peugeot—i remember ’cause i once asked him to teach me how to say it—kind of a cream color peugeot, and he said he’d run me home if i’d like that. ’s what he said, “if you’d like that.” (BEAT) in the car, like this was yesterday, i recall he had this woman singing on the tape player, real soft and painful, i remember, ’cause i had to ask who this was. i mean, this was not the bee gees and i’d never heard anything like it. so fragile-sounding, you know? he said it was “billie holiday,” that was her name, and it was all he ever played, first thing he’d said to me, i mean, practically, in five hours is “billie holiday.” and he smiled, it was dark out, but i could see him smiling there, we’re sittingat a light, and he says, “she’s all i ever listen to.” and then, “you kind of remind me of her, you know? you always seem just a little bit sad. smiling, but sad. i like that…” (BEAT) the fuck did that mean? you know? because, listen, you don’t say stuff like that to a thirteen-year-old, okay? you just don’t, uh-uh, ’cause she’ll be yours for life. i mean it. if you do, she will be…

pause.

not in front of my house, but down from it, a block maybe, he pulls over, there’s a florist shop and its closed, this time of the evening, and he parks in the little lot they have there…he kissed me. jesus, he kissed me like, i guess, you imagine how it must’ve been when they first invented it, like back in the days of myths and shit, when, you know, men were heroes and you could get kissed like that and you’d wait a lifetime for him to return, you would, and you could still taste him on your lips, years later, because back then kisses still meant something, that’s what he kissed me like…

she takes a sip of water. she fiddles again with the edge of the water cup but doesn’t drink.