For a few months my step-mother encouraged people to believe my step-sister and I were twins. The matching outfits she bought for us were key. I remember the green, floral print mini-dresses with spaghetti straps and bolero jackets, the white jumpsuits with specks of color splattered all over, and the maroon pantsuits with white trim. …
Continue reading Is that God in the details or a crazed writer?
"I'm going to start washing your hair for you. Every Sunday," my step-mother said. She hated my hair. For a while she'd insist I pin my bangs back with combs. Because I would shake the combs out of my hair when I got to school ("I didn't touch them! They fell out!"), she resorted to …
"Your mother doesn't love you," she said. "You know she only sees you to get back at your father." I kept my back to her. I was ten. "If you were grateful, you'd get back in this house right now." My step-mother wouldn't step out from the carport and she had to shout. I was …
"I got your letter," he said. "Oh, that," I said, and focused on the wall behind him. Ask me to my face if something is wrong, I'll say no. Give me a pen and paper, I'll tell you the truth. I'd slipped a letter under his door the day after he told me about the …
Continue reading What do you want and are you sure about that?
"He's a bastard," L. says--like a good friend should. J. nods and puts an arm around me. "You can do better. Who needs a guy who won't kiss her?" She shakes her head. I cry. Hiccup. Gulp. I wipe my tears with my fingers and smear my mascara. Less than an hour has passed since …
I was traveling alone on an overnight train from Istanbul. No one else came into my compartment, and in fact most of the train was empty. I thought I heard male voices, but they were faint and in a language I didn't know. It was close to midnight on the first day of the new …
Between the time I shut the door behind him and the time he kissed me goodbye, other stories happened. My friends decided I needed to date. Find someone to kiss, they said. Find someone to prove I'm attractive, I thought. I kissed the guy I met at the bar. He immediately talked about his bearskin …
When the boy took me home, the house was dark. Most dads would be waiting, but not mine. He might be home by two in the morning or sometime Sunday night. I could never be sure. I kind of liked the boy, JC, but mostly I was grateful he'd asked me out. My first date …
He was sitting in his car watching me as I walked up to my apartment and let myself in. I didn't know he was there. I was looking through my closet for something to change into when I heard the knock. Strange to hear a knock at 5pm. It was my boyfriend. "Aren't you supposed …
There in the back of my red, dented hatchback was a pair of men's underwear. Tiger-striped bikini underwear to be exact, and since I'd had no hand in putting them there, I was surprised. But I did know who they belonged to. My tactophobe boyfriend and I were at the laundromat, and they must've fallen …
Continue reading The Stupid Things a Girl Will Do for Lack of a Kiss
Marta Bacon 