It rained so hard that I was two hours late picking her up. I found her sitting alone on the school steps, in a puddle of her own making.
He caught me again. Are you crazy? Jamaican moms do it. My baby’s not Jamaican. Who says it’s yours? He hogged the rest of the bowl.
She waited for him to take her hand for the first time. He nervously fidgeted with his Smarties box instead. She knew then it would be love.
As our lips joined, I touched the tip of his tongue with mine. He panicked and hurried back to his car. I jingled his car keys in the air.
“Check for monsters,” she used to say. “In the cupboard. Under the bed.” It never occurred to her that the monster was the person checking.
Ted and Vikki made up their minds—they didn’t want to be parents. Too bad it was six years too late for birth control.