"Veronica, you say that all the time. It's never gonna happen."
Had she not been listening while I ranted for the last ten minutes? It was a for sure thing this time. My momma said so.
" No, Nicky, I'm serious. They're really doing it this time. What am I gonna do?"
My little mousy best friend was my only confidant. And even when I DID tell her things, she didn't really hear me. This was to be expected. Her parents NEVER fought. She just didn't understand. And when people don't understand something, they usually don't TRY to understand it. They just tune it out. Nicky was doing that at this very moment.
"Yeah, whatever." She was using that voice again. That one that's laced with doubt.
I stopped insisting after that. In my short five years I had already discovered what that tone of voice meant. It meant that the conversation was over; her mind was made up.
To be fair, Nicky was right. I did say it all the time. But how could I not? I was surrounded by screaming and yelling and heartfelt, "Don't you ever come back here!"s. My parents had been threatning divorce for what seemed like forever. I was just niave enough to believe them every single time.
I was sick of this adult stuff. Shouldn't the adults just deal with it? I wasn't going to think about it anymore. I had a lot of swinging to catch up on. Nicky was much higher than me already. I started pumping my legs as hard as I could.
I loved swinging at her house. The seats were bright yellow and sparkled in the hot sun. Sometimes we'd fight over who got which swing, but we always got over it pretty quickly. We'd sit and talk about our problems and fun things we saw, and then we would just swing. There was something about it. Maybe it was because this was as close to flying as we had ever gotten. Maybe it was just because we got to be silly and giggle together. Whatever it was, being on those swings made us about as carefree as somebody could get.
"Come on in, guys! Veronica, you can eat one of the cookies I just baked, but then I think it's time for you to head on home" Nicky's mommy yelled at us.
I guess she was nice. Her name was Jana, so I called her Jana, and I think that made her mad. I just didn't understand why she wanted me to call her, "Mrs. Flowers." She always made me go home. That's another thing I didn't like about Jana.
Nicky always listened to what her mama said, right when she said it, so my best friend and I hopped off our swings to go inside. Nicky slowed down to a stop. She was kind of a baby like that. I jumped off when my swing was as high as I could get it. When I landed on the freshly cut grass a shot of pain went up my legs, but it was worth it.
Jana gave me a disapproving stare as I walked by her into the house. I thought that was kind of funny. I didn't even do anything! She handed me a big chocolate chip cookie on a napkin and guided me towards the door with her long, skinny fingers on my back.
"Thanks, Jana. This is really good." I mumbled with a mouth stuffed full of semisweet chocolate. "Later, Nicky!"
I gave my tiny friend a hug. I think our size difference made her mommy nervous. I had to be a foot taller than her. Being tall was no fun at all. Maybe that's why Jana didn't like me; maybe it was because I was so tall.
I walked out the door and headed on home. Jana slammed her front door shut and the locked it behind me. Luckily, my house wasn't very far. There was only one house between me and Nicky's.
I skipped down the perfectly even sidewalk, all the way to my front door. Unlike Nicky's, my front door was always unlocked. I didn't want to go inside. I could tell that my mama was on the phone with my daddy. It dosen't sound good. Well, it is much too hot to just wait on the porch steps.
I walked in and kicked off my sparkly, pink slippers. My mommy's voice echoed off the walls of our big entryway.
"You don't get to do this to me anymore, you f***er!..."
" Go to h***!...."
Then she let out a sound that REALLY hurt me ears. It was like ALL of her body was screaming, not just her mouth. I ran up the stairs to see what was going on. My braids bounced around, I was running so fast. By the time I made it to her room, she STILL wasn't done screeching. Her body was humming with fury.
I was scared.
My mommy pressed the off button with a shaking finger, paused only for a second, and then threw the phone against the wall. It hit a photo of our family at Disneyland. The frame shattered when it hit the tiles after it fell.
After that, silence. Silence so charged with unsaid words and regrets that you could hear it. Then, she started crying. I went to give her a hug; to tell her that everything would be alright, but she nudged my open arms away.
"Go away, Veronica."
And so I did. I went away. I went to my room, sat down in the middle of the floor, and stared blankly at the wall as I thought about all the things I would say if only someone would listen.
