Down World by Rebecca Phelps (beach read TXT) 📗

time. I thought he just didn’t like me, or that he thought he was too good to hang out with Robbie’s little sister. He would tease me at times, laughing at the way I held a fork or correcting me when I thought eBay was an actual place. How was I supposed to know what eBay was? I was just a kid.

But over time I began to realize that Kieren thought of me as one of their gang—and it’s always okay to tease someone in your gang. He expected me to do it back, and probably didn’t understand why I never did. He would be surprisingly kind, then quiet again. He liked a girl at school, I think, but he wouldn’t talk about her when I was around. One rainy day, he and Robbie taught me how to play poker. We used matchbooks for the ante, and every time I lost, which was every time, they’d each take turns giving me half their matchbooks so I could keep playing. And when we biked to the train station, they wouldn’t let me cross the street without them. They knew I didn’t like Werther’s candies, so they stole me some M&M’s by shaking the vending machine when no one was looking.

I had known Kieren since I was seven, but that was the year he really started to feel like a second brother to me. A second protector. Kieren would pull the skateboard out of his backpack and show off on the railing of the stairway. Robbie and I would laugh and eat our candy.

I can’t remember the first time I noticed that they acted differently when other boys from their class would show up at the station. It was so subtle at first. But soon it became clear—the way they stood, making a little imaginary circle that didn’t include me; skating over to the other side of the parking lot, where only boys hung out. I would watch them, pretending not to care.

I played a game with myself where I would hold an M&M in my mouth for as long as I could, daring myself not to bite down. Sucking away till all the flavor had dissolved. Watching that endless train track, looking for the first microscopic dot of Dad’s train to appear on the horizon. Shivering a bit as the days got shorter and colder.

Someday I’ll leave this town, I would think. I’ll live in the city. With a bead curtain dividing the kitchen from the living room.

Soon Kieren and Robbie just headed straight over to the other boys. There was no pretense of spending any time with me. They’d still pick me up so we could bike over together, but that was it. No more skateboard stunts. No more stolen candy. I told myself I didn’t care. I’d bring a library book and read. Who wanted to hang out with a bunch of stupid boys?

I’ll paint the bathroom fire-engine red.

Once or twice, despite myself, I’d glance over there, just to see what stupid things they were doing. And a couple of times I caught Kieren staring back. I’d quickly look away. He couldn’t catch me caring. Couldn’t make me cry.

Fall turned to winter. It was getting dark by the time we got to the tracks, and the boys started gathering closer to the station, where the heat and the light from inside would spill out onto the platform. Some of them would smoke. Once I saw Robbie do it, too, but I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t a rat.

One day Robbie stayed home sick from school. I stood alone on the platform, shivering a bit from the cold. I couldn’t believe how dark it was already. I was hungry and bored.

Kieren and the other boys were gathered nearby. I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but I could tell from their tone that they were talking about me. One of the boys was laughing. I turned up my collar, pretended not to hear them.

“Hey, dweeb,” one of them called. My heart froze. “Why are you always alone?”

I rocked a bit, my heart racing.

“Where are your friends?”

I held my breath. I knew Kieren was with them. I knew he would shut that boy up in a second. I couldn’t wait to hear him do it. Maybe he’d even hit the kid. I got a little rush thinking about the fistfight that was about to break out, all because of me.

“Where are your friends, dweeb? Don’t you have any?”

This boy was relentless. I waited and waited for Kieren to say something. But nothing came. Had Kieren gone home? I didn’t dare turn around to look. I couldn’t confront this boy head-on. I knew I wasn’t strong enough. Where was Kieren? Why wasn’t he saying anything?

“She doesn’t have any.” I knew the voice immediately. It was Kieren. “She’s just a weird kid. Come on, let’s wait inside.”

I choked back a lump in my throat as they went into the station. My heart was thumping, breaking. I must have been wrong. That couldn’t have been Kieren. It must have been some other boy who sounded like him. I slowly turned and looked over my shoulder. They were inside, laughing and shaking the vending machine. And Kieren was there. He turned and caught my eyes. And I realized that tears were streaming down my cheeks. I couldn’t let him see me cry. Couldn’t let him have that satisfaction.

I jumped on my bike and started pedaling down the path along the tracks, pumping my legs as hard as I could. I pedaled and pedaled. It was dark by then and there were no lights on the path.

I heard a voice behind me, but I didn’t slow down.

“M!” Kieren shouted. I could hear the clinking of his bike chain. I kept pedaling. But he was faster and stronger than me, two years older. He caught up pretty quickly and cut me off, so I had to stop.

“What do you want?” I screamed.

“I’m sorry, okay?” he