The Accidental Siren Read Free

hair
broken by what appeared to be the rippled pink innards of a
dissected worm. I gagged.) Danny bent down, picked up the cap,
dusted it off and–
    Whit flinched.
    “Whatcha worried for, Gimp?” Danny said and
pulled the hat backwards on Whit’s head. He turned around and
offered me a hand. “Hey, Jamesy the Hutt, no hard feelings,
okay?”
    I touched the thin beads of blood on my left
cheek, bit back a bubbling tirade of sixth-grade cuss words, took
Danny’s hand, and stood.
    “Won’t believe what I got,” said the bully,
reaching into the front pocket of his army jacket.
    “You’re gonna show ‘em?” exclaimed A.J.
    “Dunno yet. Dunno if I trust ‘em.” He removed
a Polaroid photograph and shook it as if it was still developing.
“Have you retards ever seen a naked girl?”
    I bypassed Danny and reached for my camera
bag, but A.J. cut me off. “Where you goin’, Fatty?”
    “Come on, Age. Let me by.”
    My spine tightened as Danny’s hand curled
around my neck. He held the back of the photo to my face. “I asked
you a question, Fatty. Do. You. Wanna. See. The picture?” His
breath was like a stream of vapor, warm on my neck and climbing my
cheeks until I could taste the sour. “Her name’s Roslyn,” he
whispered. “Super hot bod. My uncle’s been bangin’ her for a
month.” (Danny was always talking about “bangin’.” I didn’t know
what it meant, and I was pretty sure he didn’t either.)
    “I don’t want it,” I said.
    “Of course you don’t. Why would I show you
anyways? You get to see big ol’ titties every time you look in the
mirror!” He snapped the picture out of my face and spun around.
    I made another lunge for my bag, but A.J.
blocked my reach.
    “How ‘bout you, crip?” Danny said. “Wanna
take a peek at your very first cooch?”
    Silence.
    When Whit didn’t reply, I turned around.
    He was scraping crusted mud from his treads. He was considering Danny’s offer.
    I shook my head. “Whit–”
    “Sure,” he said. “Lemme see how she
looks.”
    I sighed.
    “What you got to trade?” Danny asked. “How
‘bout one of those candy bars you’re always sellin’ at recess.”
    “Deal.” Whit nodded, reached beneath his
seat, and pulled out a Nestle Crunch bar.
    Danny snatched it from his hand, tore it
open, and bit off a corner.
    Whit licked his lips and rubbed his palms.
“Now let me get a gander at Roslyn!”
    Danny flipped over the photo, plunged it in
Whit’s face, then snapped it back. “Wha’d I tell ya? Huh? Big ol’
titties!”
    “No fair! Too fast! I didn’t even see–”
    “Whit,” I said. “Knock it off.”
    “But he–”
    “Was there really a girl in the picture?” I
asked.
    “Yeah, but I didn’t get to–”
    “Okay.” I looked to Danny and the
chocolate-stained corners of his lips. “Where’d you get the
picture?”
    “Snuck it from my uncle’s drawer. Roslyn gave
it to him as a birthday present.”
    “It’s the only one?”
    “If there was more, I’d have ‘em.”
    If Danny was proud enough to show the picture
to a nerd for a candy bar, he’d show his friends for free. In a
rare moment of maturity, I imagined my sister in Roslyn’s
place.
    “Whit’s got twenty candy bars in his bag,” I
said. “I’ll trade you the entire stash for that picture.”
    Whether he was upset that I offered his
product for trade, or excited at the prospect of owning a picture
of a naked girl, Whit’s eyes grew bigger and rounder than the
wheels on his chair.
    Danny coughed up a wad of brown spit and blew
it at my feet. He let the foil wrapper fall from his candy, slipped
the naked bar in his pocket, plucked the weapon from the stump, and
wiped the spit from his lips. “If I wanted his candy...” He began
pumping the gun. “I’d take it.”
    Whit gripped his wheels and inched away.
    I backed up too, right into A.J.’s beefy
arms.
    The gun was loaded. Danny poked the barrel in
the soft tissue above my bellybutton. “Tell ya what,