Emery [bxb]

9

I'm the fittest boy in the sixth grade. I play soccer every day and football with my dad every week. The muscles building on my limbs are worth the growing pains. My body is stretching, lengthening, solidifying.

I am starting to get hair on my legs and arms but Emery still doesn't have any. We stay up in bed and compare, and I always try to make him feel better about being behind. I stroke his smooth skin and say I like him better this way. Emery smile after that, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and forgets all about it until he gets teased again.

Emery tells me that his parents are never around because they're meth heads and also crack heads. I have no idea what that means, but his grandma told him so. She says they were too young and irresponsible to have Emery. I'd always just thought they were dead because they're never around. But I'm glad they made Emery because he's the best thing I've ever had.