It's Just a Jump to the Left by Libba Bray Read Free Book Online

of popcorn off her sweater. “We’ve just had a scare is all.
     Everything’s okay now.”
    A doctor called Leta’s mother over for a hushed conference by a gurney. Leta stared up at the ceiling until her eyes burned.
     She blinked fast, but the tears came anyway. It seemed a good time for tears. She cried for the way things had been, the way
     they would never be again. She cried for Agnes in a backseat with Roger, Agnes who had left Leta alone in a between-world
     of horse models and
Rocky Horror
and kissing boys in bathrooms. She thought about Jennifer’s perfect dance steps, the way she’d let that faker steal the moment
     from her, and she cried harder. A nurse passing patted her shoulder and then she was gone.

    Later, Leta took a cab back to her house while her mother stayed on at the hospital. It was late, around three in the morning,
     and the street was hushed. A soda can glinted in Mrs. Jaworski’s grass. Leta picked it up and tossed it in the big green trash
     can beside her garage.
    “Leta?”
    Leta started at the sound of Agnes’s voice. She was sitting on the front porch, huddled under Roger’s jacket, looking small
     and frail.
    “I was waiting for you. I figured you’d be home about an hour ago.”
    “I was at the hospital. Stevie had another seizure.”
    “Oh, my god! Is he okay?”
    Leta only shrugged. “For now. I thought you were at Roger’s.”
    “I was. Roger and me, we… you know. We did it,” Agnes said, and Leta couldn’t be certain if there was pride or sadness in it.
    “Oh. Um, congratulations. I mean, was it… are you okay?”
    Agnes’ bottom lip quivered. She started to cry. “I’m so stupid.”
    “Aggie. Hey. What happened? Did he do something… weird?”
    “No!” Agnes said, laughing through tears. “He was super nice to me. Look, he gave me his motocross ribbon.” She opened the
     jacket so that Leta could see the red ribbon pinned to her shirt.
    “Hey, you won first place in the Losing Your Virginity contest,” Leta joked. Agnes burst into fresh sobs, and Leta felt a
     surge of panic. “Sorry. It was just a joke.…”
    “It’s not the stupid joke.” Agnes dragged her fingers over her eyes and wiped her nose on her sleeve. “It was fine, I think.
     It was nice. He told me I was pretty. I just…” She shook her head and took two deep breaths. “I’m different now. I can’t go
     back. You know?”
    “Yeah. I know.”
    Agnes’s face screwed up into fresh crying. “I started thinking about my mom, how I wished I could tell her about it. That’s
     totally stupid, isn’t it?”
    “No,” Leta said. “Of course not.” Her breath came out in a puff of dragon smoke. When Leta and Agnes were kids, they’d put
     straws to their mouths and blow out, pretending they were smoking like the smiling women they saw in magazines who played
     tennis or lounged poolside, looking impossibly glamorous. In the yard, the trees stood small and naked. The sky above the
     houses was dark and unreadable, and Leta shivered in the cold.
    “I really do love your hair. It’s totally cool.”
    “Thanks,” Leta said. “My mom had a cow.”
    “Even better,” Agnes said with a giggle. She quieted. “If I call Diana to come pick me up now I’ll never hear the end of it.
     Can I stay here?”
    “Sure,” Leta said.
    The house was full of shadows. Leta turned on a lamp that only illuminated the emptiness of the living room. Leta gave Agnes
     a pair of her pajamas and they pulled the quilt off Leta’s bed and spread it over the carpet in her room.
    “Oh, Charlie!” Agnes took Leta’s Appaloosa from its place on the horse shelf and gave him a kiss. She tucked Roger’s jacket
     under her head and clutched Charlie to her chest. The girls lay together on the floor, shoulders touching, and talked about
     who was the cutest guy in
TeenBeat
, whether Leta should let her hair grow out or keep it short, if it would be totally
fourth grade
to stage
Rocky Horror
with the Barbies