“My mom’s not going to like that advice.”
“Well, sometimes it’s hard for a parent to look at their own child objectively. Just know that someday you’re going to move out of that house. You’ll be on your own, and if you let your parents make all your decisions, you won’t be prepared.”
This woman was basically telling her to disobey her parents but in a totally alluring way that made it seem not only appropriate but also a sign of maturity. Jenny was into it. None of her friends talked like this. Their idea of the future was next semester.
“Nothing that you do right now has to be a life sentence,” she continued, like Jenny’s desire for her to keep talking was palpable. “Try new things. Let old things go. Whatever feels right to you.”
Jenny only heard what she wanted to hear. It was a green light, permission to trust her own instincts.
THE HOUSE WAS pitch-black as Jenny crept down the stairs from her bedroom into the living room. She hadn’t heard a peep from Linda in over an hour, and her father was in New York. She ran her hand against the wall until she reached a small accent lamp on the closest end table.
The lamp gave off just enough light for her to see her way around the living room. Behind the couch, along the wall under a large bay window, was an alcohol cabinet. It stretched the five-foot length of the window and doubled as a table for Linda’s expansive Christmas village during the holidays. The rest of the year, Linda kept the top barren, like nothing else was worthy of such prominent display.
This was Jenny’s first attempt at sneaking out, and she had a newfound appreciation for the almost wall-to-wall carpeting in the house. She slid the cabinet open, revealing an assortment of bottles that she couldn’t distinguish. She pulled out the first one, a dark brown color, bourbon. She unscrewed the top, took a whiff, and gagged. She returned it and opted for a much less offensive bottle of peppermint schnapps.
Her bag was too small, and the end of the bottle poked out from under her arm as she slid through the kitchen and out the garage door, the exit farthest from her mother’s bedroom.
THERE WERE NO STREETLIGHTS, but the moon was full and it adequately lit her path. JP was waiting at the bottom of the hill where they had agreed on. When he saw her, he flicked his cigarette behind him.
“Did you have any trouble?” he asked.
“No, my mom is dead to the world.”
“She’s not going to come down the road screaming, is she?”
“No.” Jenny laughed, praying it was the truth.
“You wanna go to my place?”
“Is your uncle going to be there?” Everyone knew JP’s uncle Boomer. He was a local celebrity, a harmless old drunk with splotchy red skin who always wore shorts, even in the dead of winter.
“Nah, he’s gone. I don’t know where he went. Been a couple days.”
“OK,” she agreed, ready to take the next step in her rebellion and follow him up the hill.
THE TREES LINING the dirt road seemed taller at night. The woods weren’t particularly dense, serving more as privacy than an unforgiving maze, but that didn’t make them any less scary at night. She sped up to walk closer to JP, causing the liquor in her bag to slosh around.
“What do you got in there?” he asked.
“Oh, I took this from the house.” She pulled the bottle out and presented it to him.
“What are you going to do with that?” He laughed.
“I just thought we could have a couple drinks.”
“You don’t have to try and impress me, you know?” he said without looking back at her.
“I’m not.”
“Drinking is no good. Makes you do bad things.”
“Not all the time. Sometimes it’s just fun.”
“Says who?”
“I don’t know. Everyone.”
“That’s my house,” he announced, pointing through a patch of trees and changing the subject.
BOOMER’S HOUSE WAS, as she’d expected, in shambles: old worn furniture, empty beer cans, a distinctive stale smell. “We can sit out back,” JP insisted as soon as they were inside, leading her around a stained plaid couch to the sliding door to the backyard.
As they stepped outside, a motion-sensor floodlight lit up the overgrown lawn. There were two rusty lawn chairs, a cooler, and a lot of cigarette butts. Jenny had zero interest in sitting on one of the rusty chairs but didn’t want to seem high-maintenance. Maybe she would get tetanus, but she was sneaking out to hang with a boy. Bad things were supposed to happen.
He reached into the cooler, sifted past a few beers, and pulled out a Sprite. “In case you get sick of the schnapps.”
Jenny took the soda, relieved she didn’t have to drink the alcohol. “You like living here?” she asked.
“It’s OK. Better than my grandma’s place.” He cracked open a Sprite of his own.
“You think you’ll stay here for a while?”
“I bet you’d like that.” He smirked. “You ever get out of this town?”
“I used to travel a lot for pageants.” She cringed as soon as she said it.
“Pageants? Are you a little beauty queen?”
“Not anymore.”
“Fair enough. I got a cousin in Mexico. You ever been there?”
“No. Not even close.”
“I’m gonna go there. Soon. Once I get the money.”
“How much money?” She hoped for an insurmountable amount that would keep him there with her forever.
“Probably like a few grand. My cousin can get me a job once I get there. I’ll just do that until I’m eighteen. Then I’ll come back and join the marines. What about you? You got a plan?”
“I’m only thirteen.”
“So what? You gotta have a plan. That’s how you know you’re living your life and not someone else’s. You make the plan, then you stick to it. If you can’t follow through, then what’s the point?” JP chugged the rest of his Sprite, crushed the can, and threw it into the tall grass. “You wanna see something?”
“Sure.”
He hopped up and led her toward the edge of the lawn, where the woods began. Jenny was not a fan of the woods at night, but she had to make a choice. Was she going to be a little girl who ran back home, or was she finally going to experience something?
He slowed to a stop as he approached the rock wall bordering the first trees and she was relieved. That is, until he reached behind the wall and pulled out a knife.
Jenny retreated, and he seemed to regret not prefacing it. “It’s OK, don’t worry,” he said. “It’s just a machete.” He laid it across both hands and presented it to her in a nonthreatening way. She inched closer to inspect the weapon.
“Why do you have that?” she asked.
“Gotta have a weapon. In case anyone fucks with you.” He stepped back from her as he gripped the handle and waved the knife around with calculated precision. “There’s lots of bad people out there, Jenny.” He whacked the machete into the closest tree. “You know what happened to my mom?” he asked.
“What?”
“Killed. Ex-boyfriend. Beat her to death.” He pulled the knife out of the tree. “I was pretty young. I don’t really remember