sharkbait \\ h.s

12

The mall is packed when my dad pulls into the parking lot, and it's nearly impossible to find a spot that isn't already occupied by another car. Most of the cars parked are expensive looking ones, making my dad's Thunderbird look like shit in comparison.

"Is that a Ferrari?" My dad asks in disbelief. "People actually drive those?"

I look over at him and laugh. "Yes dad," I say. "This is the rich part of town. Rich people tend to drive nice cars."

He scowls. "I hate rich people."

We end up parking in the lot of a Taco Bell located ten minutes away from the mall, and we walk side by side up the sidewalk. The short walk tires me out; I'm not used to walking further distances than that between my bedroom and the refrigerator.

My dad looks over at me with a smile on his face.

Scrunching my eyebrows, I ask him,"What?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing."

We continue walking down the sidewalk until we approach the door to to JCPenney.
I don't know why we chose this store to enter. I hate this store. I got a skirt here once and it ripped the first time I put it on.

"You hate this store," my dad says like he read my thoughts. "Remember that skirt you bought when you were fifteen?"

"I liked that skirt," I defend myself.

"I hated that skirt."

"You're such a dad."

We walk through the aisles of the store, stopping to allow me to browse through the yoga pants. When I find a pair I like, I hold them out to my dad, who is shaking his head disapprovingly, and he holds them until we get to the register. The cashier stares at us as she scans the pair of pants.

"You're job is to scan the items, not the customers," I tell her. She wears a smug expression, and doesn't say anything to us when she hands me my bag. "Thanks."

When we step out of the store and into the hallway if the mall, a group of kids are standing against the wall and looking at my father and I, seeming to have been waiting for us to walk out.

What the fuck.

A kid steps out from the group. His saggy jeans and Diamond brand t-shirt tell me he's about fourteen. "Yo," he shouts toward my dad and I. "You looking for the freak show?" The other kids behind him laugh and I roll my eyes.

"Yeah," I say, walking toward them. "And look. I found it."

The majority get quiet, but the boy laughs nervously. "Oh yeah... Good one. But..." He stutters trying to think of something to say.

I snort at the kid's expense. "Go back to school." As I walk away, I feel my dad's eyes on me. I'd momentarily forgotten he was there.

"You're sassy today," he says.

I shrug. "Those kids think they're funny. They're stupid."

It's quiet between the two of us. As we continue through the mall, stopping in only two more stores.

"Is that why you dropped out of school?" My dad asks and I immediately stop walking, turning around to face him. "They picked on you, didn't they?"

"Dad."

"Is that why you stopped going?"

"Yes," I admit.

He nods slightly. "Thought so."

My dad knew they made fun of me-- I came home crying everyday because of it. Even as high schoolers, they acted like fourth graders, laughing at me because I didn't have an arm, as if it I wanted for this to happen. As if I chose this. Most people would only stare, point, and laugh, but there was a always a kid on campus who would call me Shark Bait, sometimes even be funny enough to follow it up with hoo-ha-ha. It was a nickname I'd acquired since I'd stepped foot on school campus my first day back.