Rimwick

In the Woods

 "How was school?" Mom asks me when I get home later that day. I slam the screen door of the house, which is riddled with holes. The biggest is a long gash from where I tried out my first pocket knife.

"I hate school," I remind her. "And everyone in it."

"I'm sorry," Mom says. "Have an apple."

I grab an apple from the counter and bang my bag on the floor. Another piece of linoleum chips away.

"Riley..."

"We need a new floor," I mutter.
"You need to stop breaking things," Mom replies.

"I meant it, you know," I say, changing the subject abruptly. "About hating everyone."

Mom puts down the knife she was using to dice carrots. "Try getting involved in something. You always stay here or in the woods. How about you reach out and do what other kids like?"

"Everyone else likes stupid things."

"What about theater? You were in that play in middle school."

"No." Daria Holden is in the drama club.

"Volleyball?"

"No." The volleyball team is run by Poppy and Lynn.

"Marching band."

That's out of the question. Isaac Lamarr's mother makes him play in it, and I can't stand Isaac. "No way."

"Robotics club."

This is getting ridiculous. "I broke our toaster."

My mother puts her hands on her hips. "Riley, no one can help you if you won't help yourself."

I don't want help. I want everyone at school to get there head screwed on straight.

"And don't give me that look," Mom continues. "Young Lady, I will send you to your room." She turns back to the carrots.

I scowl at her back, then stomp quickly outside before she notices. The woods behind my house are where I thrive. A creek laces through the trees like a clear strike of liquid lightning, and all sorts of plants grow in the vast, solitary realm. Houses edge the treeline, but inside? It's a free zone. I want to be ignored out here. No one can hurt me. Taunting comments and false friends deflect of the smooth rocks and tree bark like stones skipping across water. Here, I'm not the girl everybody knows to stay away from. I'm just Riley.

It's safe, too, as long as I remain within the Rimwick border.

I've only been out for a few minutes when a pack of boys appears. Oh, great. That's just wonderful. I find myself wondering if anyone would notice four dead bodies in the woods, but then decide killing them would completely destroy the serenity of the forest. It's not like they're bothering me yet, anyway.

"Hey!" one of them shouts. It's Jay Atkins. His puffy afro makes him stand out from the others- this town was slathered in whitewash. "Look!" he yells. "It's Riley!"

I gaze for a minute at the laughing, jostling boys, the turn away and tramp in a different direction. They follow me for a few minutes, calling things like, "How's your witch mom?" and, "Seen your dad lately?" until I finally turn around and politely tell them to shut their faces or I'll rip out their intestines and throw them into a tree.

Jay steps forwards, honey-grim skin reflecting the dappled sunlight. The crooked grin that crosses a strong jaw line doesn't match his dark eyes, narrowed and coming together in a point. Of all the boys at school, Jay is my least favorite. He's cruel and cold, and treated like a king by his little group.