Birdie by M.C. Carr Read Free Book Online

him.
    “I wonder why,” Randy grumbled under his breath as he stood up from beside me. 
    The air in the room went from friendly to awkward as Randy squished his feet into his shoes without untying them and gave me a quick, abrupt wave.
    “Uh, seeya.”
    “Yeah, seeya,” I replied quietly, not commenting on their shoes as they clod across my mom’s carpet.
     
    I didn’t realize what my first kiss meant until later that week when I got to school and saw JUNGLE FEVER spray painted across my locker. Sarah Walker the girl with the locker next to the left of me and Alex Kim, the boy with the locker to the right of me got JU and ER onto their lockers. Collateral damage. Alex was glaring at me as I approached it in slow steps, my mouth hanging agape at the words, like his spray painted locker was my fault.
    Randy came up behind me, grabbing my elbow and pulling me behind a corner next to the drinking fountain. He looked pissed.
    “What’d you have to go and tell Abby for?” he asked me angrily. “She’s threatened to break up with me.”
    “I didn’t!” I said defensively. Never mind that he was the one who kissed me. I felt trapped and scared and out of place. “I didn’t tell anyone!”
    He looked like he didn’t believe me and his mouth hardened into a line. “I just wanted to know if it felt different kissing a black chick,” he said, shaking his head in regret. “It wasn’t worth all this.”
    He turned and left me speechless by the water fountain.

 
     
     
     

     

Birdie
     
    My first day at the library has my arms sore and my lower back grumbling at me in the form of shooting pains. On my break I amble next door to the diner where my mother and I stopped on my first day in town, ordered breakfast, and didn't eat it. In truth, the food smelled pretty good and Tim told me there were a couple Raleigh’s coupons in the top drawer for free meals so it's where my stomach leads me as soon as the clock hits four.
    I push into the restaurant's glass door and take a quick glance around. All the booths are taken and for some reason sitting at a square table with four chairs makes me feel more alone than a booth would so I choose the last stool at the bar, opting for that eat-and-go look those people always have.
    The same guy I saw my first morning in Shenoah is here again behind the counter and he slides me a menu wordlessly but shoots a small smile my way. For some reason I can read that smile. It says something along the lines of, I remember you but we'll pretend I don't.
    I wrinkle my eyebrows at him for a moment, not sure if I'm right. But his expression changes. The light smile on his face reaches his eyes and he nods slightly so I nod slightly back and he goes back to wiping the counter and then I'm sure we had an exchange. Only now he's indifferent, taking the order of a man in an orange construction vest requesting everything on the menu not found in the salad section.
    I return my attention to food. The fact that my hips are wider than the barstool suggests I should order chicken lettuce wraps but there wasn’t much in the trailer for lunch and I had to walk to get here (forty-five minutes) and the bacon cheeseburger promises meat on meat action and my appetite is begging for meat on meat action.
    I'm tapping my foot impatiently because the guy moved on from the construction worker to a couple guys that look about the same age as me and by the way they're talking instead of placing orders, I'm pretty sure they're friends with the waiter.
    I crane my neck down the counter but, nope. Just the one waiter. I sigh loudly, but that doesn't slow their conversation. Which sounds like an old school gaming system debate.
    "Dude, the original Nintendo beats the original Sega. Two words: Duck Hunt." The words are spoken by a blonde haired, blue-eyed, polo-shirted teen looking intent as if convincing his curly-headed friend of this fact is akin to negotiating world peace.
    "Come on! Sega rolls into a ball and