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Teenage fever

Ethan, Hayzel and I are sitting on the same bench as yesterday. The large statue is still watching us as we eat our sandwiches.

Her wings are folded behind her, head bowed, eyes sad. They talk around me while I keep looking up at her. I wonder who decided to carve grief into stone.

I'd like to draw her.

“Ethan actually fell from his chair when we arrived, because he wanted to make sure no one would sit next to him,” Hayzel said, bringing me back into the conversation with a slight nudge. “He fell on his stupid ass, you should’ve seen it!”

“I fell because the chair was broken,” he said like it was a fact.

“Reya and I were sure you’d do something dumb before the first week ends.”

I laughed and high-fived Hayzel, as I kept eating my sandwich, trying to focus on them instead of her.

Ethan leaned back on the bench, eyes half-closed, smirking slightly. “You’re awfully quiet today,” he said, tilting his head toward me. “You didn’t smoke enough, Reya?”

I raised an eyebrow, unamused by his comment. Actually, I did not smoke that much today.

“Oh, come on,” he teased, glancing at Hayzel who’s enjoying her food. “You can’t just sit there and act like a brick. Tell me what’s going on.” I shrugged, taking a slow sip of my cold coffee. He watched me for a long second, then leaned slightly forward, voice softer, almost careful. “What’s going on, little head, am I too loud for you?”

“I’m saving my energy to not shoot you during training, Bennett.”

He laughed, shaking his head.

Hayzel grinned, nodding. “Honestly… wouldn’t surprise me if you did,” she said.

I turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “We can even call that an accident,” I added, shrugging.

“True, they’d probably believe us.”

“I’m right in front of you, assholes,” he replied.

“We know,” we both answered in unison, and he just laughed and kept eating.

After a few minutes we were all done and Hayzel glanced at her watch. “Alright, break’s over. Let’s get moving before we’re late for firearm training.”

We rose, gathering our things, and reached the gates of the training area pretty quickly, the distant pop of gunfire already filling the place.

Heath’s coffee shop was one of my favorite places growing up. I’d stay there and check the CDs for hours and not go to some classes. It was a safe place, warm, music was always playing in the background. Heath would always offer me a chocolate drink and show me a lot of artists I never heard of.

I loved it.

Not far from it was a shooting range, the sound of shots always there and eventually, I stopped noticing it.

After my mother died, my father started leaving his gun out more often, but not by accident. I noticed the timing. I noticed how the house changed when it was visible. How he would use it to threaten me if I made him angry.

He never had to say much. I understood what it meant when he’d push it next to my head and scream to not piss him off.

So, I started going to the range when he was at work for the week. Edna was already taking care of Milo when I had to go to school. She took her retirement early on and helped me because I couldn’t just stay at home until he was old enough to start school too.

At first, I told myself I was just curious. Then I told myself it was practical. If he ever stopped threatening and actually decided to use it, I didn’t want to be completely helpless.

That felt reasonable. Responsible, even. I wasn’t trying to prove anything, I just wanted to be ready.

I was young and scared.

I went there for years, quietly, on my own, paid attention, remembered things. I couldn’t use it so I would just see people go there to train.