Valiant Read Free Page A

slightly. Val unzipped her backpack and poured its contents onto the filthy floor as the train lurched forward.
    Her camera clattered on the rubber tile, along with a couple of rolls of film, a book from school— Hamlet —that she was supposed to have already read, a couple of hair ties, a crumpled package of gum, and a travel grooming case her mother had given her for her last birthday. She fumbled to open it—tweezers, manicuring scissors, and a razor, all glimmering in the dim light. Valerie took out the scissors, felt the small, sharp edges. She stood up and looked into the mirror. Grabbing a chunk of her hair, she started to chop.
    Stray locks curved around her sneakers like copper snakes when she was done. Val ran a hand over her bald head. It was slick with pink squirt-soap and felt rough as a cat’s tongue. She stared at her own reflection, rendered strange and plain, at unflinching eyes and a mouth pressed into a thin line. Specks of hair stuck to her cheeks like fine metal filings. For a moment, she couldn’t be sure what that mirror face was thinking.
    The razor and manicuring scissors clattered into the sink as the train lurched forward. Water sloshed in the toilet bowl.
    “Hello?” someone called from outside the door. “What’s going on in there?”
    “Just a minute,” Val called back. She rinsed off the razor under the tap and shoved it into her backpack. Slinging it over one shoulder, she got a wad of toilet paper, dampened it, and squatted down to mop up her hair.
    The mirror caught her eye again as she straightened. This time, a young man looked back at her, his features so delicate that she didn’t think he could defend himself. Val blinked, opened the door, and stepped out into the corridor of the train.
    She walked back to her seat, feeling the glances of the other passengers flinch from her as she passed. Staring out the window, she watched the suburban lawns slip by until they went under a tunnel and she saw only her new, alien reflection in the window.
     
    The train pulled into an underground station and Val got off, walking through the stink of exhaust. She climbed up a narrow, unmoving escalator, crushed between people. Penn Station was thick with commuters, heads down as they passed one another and stands that sold pendants, scarves, and fiberoptic flowers that glowed with changing colors. Valerie stuck to one of the walls, passing a filthy man sleeping under a newspaper and a group of backpack-wearing girls screaming at one another in German.
    The anger she had felt on the train had drained away and Val moved through the station like a sleepwalker.
    Madison Square Garden was up another escalator, past a line of taxis and stands selling sugared peanuts and sausages. A man handed her a flyer and she tried to give it back, but he was already past her and she was left holding a sheet of paper promising “LIVE GIRLS.” She crunched it up and stuffed it in her pocket.
    She pushed through a narrow corridor jammed with people, and waited at the ticket counter. The young guy behind the glass looked up when she pushed Tom’s ticket through. He seemed startled. She thought it might be her lack of hair.
    “Can you give me my money back for that?” Val asked.
    “You already have a ticket?” he asked, squinting at her as though trying to figure out exactly what her scam was.
    “Yeah,” she said. “My asshole ex-boyfriend couldn’t make it.”
    Understanding spread across his features and he nodded. “Gotcha. Look, I can’t give you your money back because the game’s already started, but if you give me both I could upgrade you.”
    “Sure,” Val said, and smiled for the first time that whole trip. Tom had already given her the money for his ticket and she was pleased that she could have the small revenge of getting a better seat from it.
    He passed her the new ticket and she slid through the turnstile, wading her way through the crowd. People argued, faces flushed. The air stank of