Fallout (Crank 3)

Me too, on champagne. “B-Bryce.”

And why haven’t you mentioned him?

Now my brain buzzes anger. “You … uh …”

Go ahead, say it. “You’re never here.”

SHE DOESN’T DENY

She deflates. Like someone stuck

her with a pin and the champagne

bubbles escaped. You’re right. I’m sorry.

“It’s okay. I mean, you’re getting

married. It’s not like you should

be thinking about me, anyway.”

Her heads starts to shake. Getting

married doesn’t mean you’re not

important too. Tell me about Bryce.

We sit on her bed and I recite

the basic information, omitting

everything about today. And babies.

He s-sounds great, she sputters,

champagne kicking in. Do you

want to invite him to the wedding?

A member of the family already?

“Th-thanks. I’ll think about it.”

Sputtering a little myself, the first

time I’ve ever had alcohol go to

my head. Makes me laugh. Makes

me brave. Think I kind of like it.

Summer

STRADDLING A THIN WIRE

Three hundred feet in the air.

That’s how I feel.