Audacious by Gabrielle Prendergast Read Free Book Online

call.
    This is the worst Christmas ever, I say
    That’s why I don’t celebrate it
    He says, and I laugh.
    That’s the sound I love
    I’m going to sneak out and see you
    I promise.
    Come over anytime, I say
    I’m never leaving the house again.
    I’ll leave the mudroom door unlocked
    You can come right up to my room.
    Then I just listen to him breathe
    Before he says: see you soon.

REPORT CARDS
    In the midst of it all
    Two letters arrive
    End-of-term report cards.
    Mine is ironic
    Decent grades
    Glowing comments
    Especially in Art.
    Ella has a real gift in art,
    Her technique is excellent
    Her vision is confident and meaningful.
    Well done.
    And yet, here I am, under arrest.
    Kayli’s on the other hand
    The perfect normal daughter
    Looks like this:
    Math: F
    Kayli is not grasping the basic concepts
    French: F
    Kayli has not completed any assignments
    History: F
    Kayli rarely hands in work or participates
    English: F
    It’s obvious that Kayli has not done the readings
    Biology: F
    Kayli has not passed any of the quizzes
    Dad studies the reports for a few minutes
    Then goes into his den and closes the door.

NEW YEAR’S EVE
    Kayli is grounded
    And I’m on self-imposed house arrest
    But Dad’s going to the clinic
    To be with Mom.
    They’re having a little New Year’s thing.
    Before he goes
    We have
    â€œThe talk”
    I have to say
    I’m disappointed
    I thought we’d be happy here
    New house
    New city
    A new beginning
    But instead we’re falling apart
    Something has to be done
    But I don’t know what it is
    And I need you girls
    To help me figure it out
    Because clearly something is not working.
    Then he straightens his tie and leaves.
    Kayli turns to me and says
    He noticed.

MIDNIGHT: PART TWO
    Popcorn
    And a movie
    Kayli falls asleep
    On the couch
    Boredom
    And cheap champagne
    I tuck a blanket around her
    And go up the narrow stairs to bed
    Midnight
    And fireworks crackle
    In the distance
    The mudroom door clicks open
    Footsteps
    And the stairs creak
    I sit up, listening
    Samir appears in the shadows
    Silence
    And snowflakes in his hair
    He shrugs off his coat
    And lies down next to me

DESIRE
    We kiss
    And more
    His hands are soft and warm
    And strong.
    Gripping my thighs
    Through flannel pajamas.
    We still haven’t spoken a word
    Since he arrived.
    But he has taken off his sweater
    I caress his bare arms
    And slide my hands inside his T-shirt.
    His muscular body is unexpected
    Dangerously sexy.
    And soon
    We are both breathless
    With desire.

DECISION
    I have condoms, he whispers
    I note the optimistic plural
    And lean back
    To look into his eyes
    Do you want to?
    He asks, twisting a strand of hair
    Around his thumb.
    Yes. No. Do you?
    Yes. No. Yes.
    I’ve never done it before. Have you?
    Yes. I mean, no!
    Yes or no?
    He’s smiling
    No. I’ve never done it.
    So…
    I’m in enough trouble already.
    Is it okay if we wait?
    No. I mean, yes. Of course.
    I’ve waited sixteen years
    I can wait a little longer.
    Do you want to stay? Do you want to leave?
    Yes. I mean no. What?
    We giggle in the dark
    Tired and happy
    And fall asleep
    Like spoons in a drawer.

WAFFLES
    This far North, deep in winter
    Dawn arrives late
    Accompanied by the smell of waffles.
    Samir is still curled around my back
    Asleep, his breath on my neck
    I open my eyes
    In the doorway blinking
    Stands my father, in a flowered apron
    Breakfast, he says.
    Samir and I
    Appear in the kitchen
    Five minutes later.
    Bacon? says Dad.
    Just a waffle, thanks, says Samir
    I don’t eat bacon
    Dad serves a waffle
    Are you vegetarian? he asks
    Muslim, sir, says Samir
    Dad freezes over the juicer
    Good, he finally says . I hope that means
    You respect my daughter’s virtue.
    Dad! I say, and Kayli dissolves into giggles
    But Samir is earnest
    Of course, he says.

VIRTUE
    It’s an old-fashioned word
    That means “asset” or “value”
    Like that’s all