Bull-Ring huffs and groans at once. I laugh at him.
“Listen, kid,” I tell him, “if you want to keep your ass clear of my shoes, then I better never hear anything out of you about Sher Traifere, ever again.”
Instead of answering, he whines. Then he says, “Ok, ok…I don’t give a shit about her! Just let me go already!”
I let him go, pushing him away from me. I wait a minute to see if he’s planning on coming back for more, but he’s all set. He rubs his elbow and wrist alternately, but other than that, all he does is glare. That’s fine with me.
“Which one is Sher’s apartment?” I ask and although he looks away sourly, the androgynous kid points and mutters, “It’s the one with the stupid yellow flowerpot.”
CHAPTER SIX
THIS ISN’T GOING TO GO WELL. I know it even as I’m standing on the fake-grass welcome mat, looking at the faded tulips that have been shoved into a yellow sand bucket of pea gravel beside Sher’s door. I still knock, and a woman shrieks over the top of maybe a thousand shrieking little kids’ voices, “Somebody get that!”
But the first one to get it, is the only one who knows me. And she doesn’t want to see me. She makes it obvious by how quick and how hard she slams the door in my face. I knock again. She opens the door an inch.
“Go away, Landon!” she hisses through the crack.
“Who the hell is that, Sher?” an older woman shouts from somewhere in the apartment. A smaller face, belonging to a stringy-haired girl that look like a younger version of Sher, flings back the side-window curtain to stare at me. Stringy doesn’t wave. But she picks her nose.
“I came to get my sweats back.” I grin at Sher. I notice she’s wearing her own pants now and a wide, crocheted choker that hardly hides the hickey on her neck. She frowns.
“Just go, okay? I’ll give them to Hale and Oscar.”
“Who the hell, Sher?” A woman grabs the door and pulls it all the way open. She’s nothing like Sher. She has crazy red curls of hair, like a head full of snakes, skin as weathered as the bottom of my shoe, and a thin-lipped scowl that gives me shivers. She narrows her eyes on me. “Who’re you?”
“My name’s Landon, ma’am. I’m a friend of Sher’s.”
“Oh really?” She scowls even more and narrows her eyes until there’s nothing left but lashes. “Same friend that gave her that nasty blood clot on her neck?”
I cough into my hand, suddenly embarrassed that I did it. “Yes ma’am. It shouldn’t have happened.”
“Hell no, it shouldn’t have.”
“That’s what I said,” Sher adds, fingering the choker, but her mother swings around and swats her.
“And what were you doing, letting him? Didn’t I teach you nothing?”
My hand is on the door. I get that this is Sher’s mom. I get that she’s annoyed with the whole hickey thing, but she’s not going to hit Sher in front of me either.
The door is latched. Sher’s mom whips back around to glare at me through the screen.
“You try coming in without being asked and I’ll make sure you don’t ever have kids.”
“Your daughter’s already working on it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She narrows her eyes again. I don’t answer and she swings back to Sher. “What’s he mean by that?”
“Nothing,” Sher groans, but she’s too flinchy to be convincing. And from the looks of her, Sher’s mom is definitely a woman who has seen enough that she can’t be fooled anymore.
“No, no, it sounds like it means something. Tell me what he means, Sher.”
“He means I won’t marry him.” Sher shrugs, but her mother takes a step closer to her daughter, head tipped back slightly. Her nostrils flare, sniffing out the lie.
“Why does this man want to marry you?”
“Thanks Mom. I mean, seriously, thanks a lot.”
But Sher’s mom stays nose to nose with her daughter. “Are you going
“Listen, kid,” I tell him, “if you want to keep your ass clear of my shoes, then I better never hear anything out of you about Sher Traifere, ever again.”
Instead of answering, he whines. Then he says, “Ok, ok…I don’t give a shit about her! Just let me go already!”
I let him go, pushing him away from me. I wait a minute to see if he’s planning on coming back for more, but he’s all set. He rubs his elbow and wrist alternately, but other than that, all he does is glare. That’s fine with me.
“Which one is Sher’s apartment?” I ask and although he looks away sourly, the androgynous kid points and mutters, “It’s the one with the stupid yellow flowerpot.”
CHAPTER SIX
THIS ISN’T GOING TO GO WELL. I know it even as I’m standing on the fake-grass welcome mat, looking at the faded tulips that have been shoved into a yellow sand bucket of pea gravel beside Sher’s door. I still knock, and a woman shrieks over the top of maybe a thousand shrieking little kids’ voices, “Somebody get that!”
But the first one to get it, is the only one who knows me. And she doesn’t want to see me. She makes it obvious by how quick and how hard she slams the door in my face. I knock again. She opens the door an inch.
“Go away, Landon!” she hisses through the crack.
“Who the hell is that, Sher?” an older woman shouts from somewhere in the apartment. A smaller face, belonging to a stringy-haired girl that look like a younger version of Sher, flings back the side-window curtain to stare at me. Stringy doesn’t wave. But she picks her nose.
“I came to get my sweats back.” I grin at Sher. I notice she’s wearing her own pants now and a wide, crocheted choker that hardly hides the hickey on her neck. She frowns.
“Just go, okay? I’ll give them to Hale and Oscar.”
“Who the hell, Sher?” A woman grabs the door and pulls it all the way open. She’s nothing like Sher. She has crazy red curls of hair, like a head full of snakes, skin as weathered as the bottom of my shoe, and a thin-lipped scowl that gives me shivers. She narrows her eyes on me. “Who’re you?”
“My name’s Landon, ma’am. I’m a friend of Sher’s.”
“Oh really?” She scowls even more and narrows her eyes until there’s nothing left but lashes. “Same friend that gave her that nasty blood clot on her neck?”
I cough into my hand, suddenly embarrassed that I did it. “Yes ma’am. It shouldn’t have happened.”
“Hell no, it shouldn’t have.”
“That’s what I said,” Sher adds, fingering the choker, but her mother swings around and swats her.
“And what were you doing, letting him? Didn’t I teach you nothing?”
My hand is on the door. I get that this is Sher’s mom. I get that she’s annoyed with the whole hickey thing, but she’s not going to hit Sher in front of me either.
The door is latched. Sher’s mom whips back around to glare at me through the screen.
“You try coming in without being asked and I’ll make sure you don’t ever have kids.”
“Your daughter’s already working on it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She narrows her eyes again. I don’t answer and she swings back to Sher. “What’s he mean by that?”
“Nothing,” Sher groans, but she’s too flinchy to be convincing. And from the looks of her, Sher’s mom is definitely a woman who has seen enough that she can’t be fooled anymore.
“No, no, it sounds like it means something. Tell me what he means, Sher.”
“He means I won’t marry him.” Sher shrugs, but her mother takes a step closer to her daughter, head tipped back slightly. Her nostrils flare, sniffing out the lie.
“Why does this man want to marry you?”
“Thanks Mom. I mean, seriously, thanks a lot.”
But Sher’s mom stays nose to nose with her daughter. “Are you going
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