by Paige Dearth
Joon stopped short. “I don’t know how to make a single wish. I mean, there are about a million things that I wish for every day. How am I supposed to pick one?”
Pringle put her arm around Joon’s shoulders and led her to the birthday canopy. “Close your eyes.” When Joon’s eyes were closed, Pringle asked, “What is the one thing you want most in the world? Don’t tell me. Just think about it. You got it?”
Joon smiled and nodded.
“Okay, now when you walk underneath your birthday canopy, that’s what you wish for.”
Joon giggled. “I swear, Pringle. I would be lost without you.” She looked at the human canopy. The teens were smiling and cheering for her, and as she walked underneath, she made her birthday wish.
Later that night, after sharing her birthday cupcake with Pringle, Joon walked over to a barrel where Quinn was standing alone.
“Did you have a good birthday?” he asked.
Joon rubbed her hands together near the fire. “Yeah, best one ever. It was really nice that all of you helped me celebrate.”
Quinn moved closer to her. “I got you a present.”
Her eyes widened. “You did? Why?”
He pulled something from his pocket. “Because I really like you, and I wanted to give you something.” He let a bracelet made of multicolored thread dangle from his fingers. “It’s a bracelet. I thought you’d like it.”
Joon reached out gently and took the present, rubbing it between her fingers and feeling the thick threads before sliding it onto her wrist. “This is really nice. Thank you.”
Quinn gave her a nod. “You’re welcome. I have something else for you too.”
She gave him a quizzical look. “You do?”
“Yep.” Then, he leaned in, closed his eyes, and gave Joon a kiss on the lips. When he pulled away, he studied her reaction. “Was that okay?”
Joon let out a nervous giggle. “Yeah, I guess. I mean it was nice.” She was flustered by it, even though she was happy he’d done it, and she looked around awkwardly for a moment before turning around. “Hey, I have to get back to Pringle. I’ll see you later.”
She felt warm all over her body. It was a simple kiss, but it had made her feel special. She licked her lips and could taste the beer that Quinn had been drinking. It made her feel connected to him.
She’d had a crush on Quinn since they’d met, and the fact that he was three years older than her made her feel even more special. She always felt safer when he was around, and that night, as she tried to sleep, all Joon could do was think about the kiss. She was content as she drifted to sleep in her house made of cardboard.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The next morning, Joon woke up with butterflies in her belly thinking about Quinn, and it didn’t go unnoticed by her friend.
“You got a secret you wanna share?” Pringle asked.
“No,” Joon said with a sly smile.
“Oh. My. God. You do have a secret. Tell me.”
Actually dying to share, she easily conceded. “So, last night, before we went to sleep…Quinn gave me this bracelet.” Joon pulled her jacket sleeve up so Pringle could see her present. “Then he kissed me.”
Pringle grabbed Joon’s shoulders. “What? Did he tongue you?”
“No, ew, don’t be gross.” Joon lowered her voice so she wouldn’t be overheard. “He kissed me on the lips…mouth closed. It was really nice. Can you believe it?”
Her friend shook her head ruefully. “Yeah, I believe it,” she said. “But you know, he’s sixteen. He’s had girlfriends before. I’ve met a couple of them. They never last. You better be careful,” Pringle warned.
Joon felt deflated. “You don’t want me to like Quinn?”
“It’s not that. I just think that maybe he’s taking advantage of you.”
“How?”
“’Cause you’re thirteen and not very street smart,” Pringle said with an edge to her voice.
Joon was starting to get irritated and wondered if her friend was jealous. “Are you mad ‘cause Quinn likes me?”
“No. I’m mad because, just when I get a best friend, that asshole tries to come in and steal you from me.”
Joon put her arms around Pringle and pulled her close. “No one will ever come between us, remember?”
Pringle pouted and fluttered her eyelashes, her green eyes exuding innocence. “Do you promise?”
“Yes, I promise,” she said, laughing. “I love you, Pring. Now, what should I say to Quinn when I see him?”
“You’re such a rookie,” Pringle said, pulling the collar of her jacket up around her neck. “I mean, really, you just say hi. Just act the way you always do. You seriously have no social skills at all.”
Joon looked away. “I can’t help it. The only person that’s ever even talked to me before you was Ragtop and some of her friends, but they’re all old. I’m still getting used to it.”
“Hey, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I was just messing with you.”
Pringle stood and put her hands out to Joon, pulling her to her feet.
“Let’s get our day started. We need to earn some money to make up for what we spent on your birthday yesterday.”
Joon groaned and her shoulders slumped forward. “I don’t feel like begging.”
Pringle put her hands on her hips and glared at her friend. “You feel like eating?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you better start feeling like begging. It’s not so bad. People like to give you money. Think about some of the other kids having to sell their asses to eat. That should make you feel better.”
Joon couldn’t handle the thought of letting someone touch her private places. The memory of Deen touching her made her skin crawl and scared her. It made her stomach fill with acid.
“I feel like I would die if I had to do anything like that to eat,” Joon said.
“Exactly!”
When the girls joined the other teens, Quinn approached them and gave Joon a hug.
“Morning, you beautiful creature,” he whispered. “Are you gonna hug me back? Everyone is watching. You’re making me look like a fool.”
Joon glanced at Pringle, who was staring at them. Then she put her arms around Quinn and gave him a quick squeeze.
Quinn looked down at Joon. He placed his index finger gently under her chin and tilted her head up to meet his eyes. “Where are you off to today?”
“Market Street to beg.”
Quinn smiled. “I like a woman who knows how to make money. That makes you independent. It turns me on.”
Not able to take it anymore, Pringle stepped closer to the couple. “Quinn, you’re like liquid sugar. I mean, really. You’re so weird. Yuck!”
Quinn laughed at Pringle’s remarks. “Okay, you two go on and earn some money. I’m doing some work for Pug today.”
“Oh, that’s just great,” Pringle fired back at him. “You better watch your ass with that snake. I don’t know why you don’t stay away from him.”
Quinn ran his hand through his long hair. “Because I can make more money quicker without having to beg or take a chance getting caught stealing. That’s why. Maybe you should try it sometime.”
Pringle put her hands on her hips and shook her head. “I’d rather die. I don’t want nothing to do with him. Pug is a mean bastard, and he’ll do anything to make money. He doesn’t care about nobody but himself.” With that, she grabbed Joon’s hands and turned her back to Quinn. “We’re out of here.”
“What’s wrong with you? You’re being kinda rude to Quinn,” Joon said when they were far enough away that nobody else would hear.
“Quinn is acting like he owns you, and I don’t like it.”
“How’s he doing that?”
“Being grabby with you like you’re his girlfriend. Plus, all that shit he said about you being independent and earning your own money. One kiss doesn’t mean you’re getting married,” she fumed.
Joon was quiet. She had liked that Quinn
greeted her with a hug even though she’d been embarrassed that he did it in front of everyone. He made her feel special. After all, Quinn was one of the oldest boys in the group. He was charming and good-looking, and several girls had a crush on him—she had watched them flirt with him while she’d been living at the Tracks.
“It didn’t bother me, Pringle. I kind of liked it. Everyone looks up to Quinn, and he likes me of all people. That makes me feel…I don’t know…special, I guess.”
“Special how?”
“Special like I matter. I’ve never had anyone my age that wanted to be around me. Now, I have you and Quinn. I feel…really lucky. Ya know? Like my life might be changing. That’s all.”
The girls spent the remainder of the day moving around the city and panhandling. Before going back to the Tracks, they stopped at a dollar store and bought a loaf of bread and a jar of generic peanut butter. It was expected that each person bring something to the Tracks and was a long-standing way the children of the streets survived.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
That night at the Tracks, Quinn sat next to Joon and took her hand in his. He threaded their fingers together and took advantage of his popularity to impress her. The other boys would listen to everything he said, and when Quinn asked the others to do things, they did them. He was better off, so to speak, because of the money he made working for Pug.
He opened two beers and handed one to Joon, but she shook her head. “Come on, Joon. It ain’t gonna kill you. It’s a fucking beer.”
Hesitantly, she took the can from Quinn and lifted it to her mouth. She took a small sip and scrunched up her face. “Ew. That’s gross.”
“It grows on you. Give it a chance. Finish that one and I bet you’ll change your tune,” Quinn said.
Joon took small sips of the bitter liquid until she was halfway done, but by that time, she was feeling the effects of the alcohol, finished the beer quickly, and asked Quinn for another. She’d drank three beers in under an hour. She stood to go pee and swayed on her feet. Quinn got up quickly and grabbed her arm.
“Whoa! Easy does it. Let me walk with you.”
Joon looked over at Pringle, who was making out with Booz. Not wanting to interrupt her friend, she took Quinn up on his offer. Off to the side, but still where they could see the crowd, Joon stopped and turned to Quinn.
“Ya gotta turn around,” she slurred.
Quinn gave a forced laugh. “You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before.”
Feeling dizzy, Joon shrugged and lowered her pants and underwear. She squatted low and emptied her bladder. When she finished, she looked up to find Quinn handing her a napkin he’d dug out of his coat pocket. Joon took it from him, did a quick wipe, and attempted to stand. As she did, the blood rushed from her head and she fell back into her puddle of urine. Quinn quickly helped her up. As she leaned on his shoulders, he pulled up her underwear and worn jeans. Before he zipped them though, he reached inside and touched her softly, between her legs.
“What are ya doin’?” she asked.
“Nothing…just wanted you to know that I’m really into you,” he purred.
Too drunk to process much, she leaned her body against his. “I wanna lie down. I’m so tired.”
He walked her back toward the group, and when Pringle glanced up and saw Joon hanging from Quinn’s arm like a rag doll, she got to her feet and rushed over.
“What the hell happened, Quinn?” Pringle seethed.
“I didn’t do shit to her. She had a little too much to drink. Don’t get your panties in a bunch.”
Pringle put Joon’s arm over her own shoulder and half dragged, half carried her friend over to their cardboard box. After Pringle got Joon settled, she went to find Quinn.
“What the fuck is your problem, Quinn? You know she never drinks. How many beers did you let her have?”
“Shut up, Pringle! Joon is old enough to make her own decisions. So she had a little too much. Ain’t like you haven’t been seen staggering around here before.”
The green of Pringle’s eyes was blazing. “We’re not talking about me. Joon ain’t never had nobody. Do you get that? She trusts us and you know better. Why did you take her over to pee?”
“So she could take a fuckin’ piss. Why the hell else would I go over there?”
Pringle pointed her index finger in Quinn’s face. “You better not have done anything to her. You get me?”
Quinn let out a sinister laugh. “Why? What are you gonna do? Kick my ass? Cut me a break, Pringle. You’re just a jealous girl who can’t stand to see me with somebody else.”
“Fuck you, Quinn. Breaking up with you is the best thing that I ever did. You’re a player and you’re never happy with who you have. I’m happy I followed my instincts. You always gave me the willies and you still do. I ain’t jealous—I’m looking out for my friend,” Pringle yelled, spittle flying from her mouth.
Quinn grabbed a beer from his bag and opened it. The crackle and fizzle cut into the silence as he looked Pringle in the eyes. “You want one?” He held out an open beer.
Pringle looked at the beer, then at Quinn, then back down at the beer. Finally, she put her hand around the can and tried to take it, but he wouldn’t let it go.
“Friends?”
Pringle took a swig of the beer. “Friend is a strong word. I’m telling you Quinn, don’t fuck with her.”
Quinn cocked his head to the side. “You don’t own Joon. She has a mind of her own. Besides, in case you haven’t noticed, Joon’s into me.”
“Joon’s into you because she doesn’t know any better. You can be a real asshole. I’ve seen enough girls come here for a while and then never come back just a couple months later. You use people to get what you want.”
“You’re being a bitch just because you and I didn’t work out. It’s not like I treated you bad.”
“Yeah, you did treat me bad. Every time I turned around, I either saw you with another girl or heard you were with another girl. You’re a prick,” Pringle spat.
“Whatever. You didn’t want to commit when I asked you to leave with me. You wanted to stay at the Tracks for the rest of your fucking life. You’re just bitter.”
Pringle turned to walk away but stopped short. “She’s not some piece of trash for you to use up. Joon is different, and she doesn’t know enough about boys to get caught up with a jerk like you. Just remember, I’m watching you.”
Chapter Thirty
A month later, as the late-March air warmed, Joon was happy to have survived the harsh winter. The girls were panhandling outside the train station on Market Street, and the morning had been good. They’d earned four dollars between them. Pringle always pushed Joon to be front and center. She’d lived on the streets long enough to know that people will give more money to girls and even more to pretty girls. Joon was pretty, and her eyes revealed her hard life—she wore a mask of sadness that a veteran actress couldn’t mimic.
After several hours, they called it a day. As they walked toward Thirtieth Street, Joon shoved her hands into her jean pockets. “Pringle, I’m dying for a shower. There is dirt imbedded in my pores. It makes everything feel tight.” She leaned close to her friend’s ear. “And my ass is so itchy I can’t stand it anymore.”
Pringle nodded. “Yep, gets like that after the cold weather breaks and you can actually feel again. There’s something we can do. It’s cheap, it ain’t a shower, but it’s close enough.”
The girls stopped at a drugstore on their way back to the Tracks. Pringle placed a long piece of cardboard against a tree to shield them from the main area where the teens hung. The girls stepped behind the cardboard.
“You first,” Pringle said.
Joon quickly stripped off her clothing.
“Ready?” Pringle asked.
Joon nodded and Pringle poured some of the water from the gallon jug they’d purchased over her head.
“Now you have to soap up quick,” Pringle instructed. “Don’t use too much so
ap in your hair. It’ll be too hard to rinse out.”
Joon used the bar of generic soap they had bought to wash her body and hair. When she was finished, Pringle poured more of the water over her, and Joon rubbed her hair and skin. “How much water is left?”
“A little more than half.”
“Okay, pour some on my back and keep half to take your shower. Let’s keep the other gallon for next week.”
When Joon turned, Pringle gasped. Both girls stopped and looked at each other.
“What’s wrong?” Joon said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Those marks on your back. It looks like…like you were whipped. Where did you get those?”
Pringle moved closer and touched the raised lines of skin on her friend’s back. They looked like the roots of a large tree. They were four shades darker than her uninjured flesh.
Joon flushed as embarrassment coursed through her. She lowered her head. “Aron did it.”
“How? Why?” Pringle shrieked.
“Lots of reasons.”
“Like what? You have to tell me,” Pringle pushed.
“When I pissed off Aron, sometimes my punishment was a whipping.” A tingling swept up the back of Joon’s neck and across her face. “She’d make me strip and lay facedown on the bed. Then she’d tie my legs and arms to the bedposts, so I couldn’t move. She whipped me with different things…whatever was in reach. Sometimes it was a hairbrush or a long metal spoon, but mostly it was a thick belt with a big buckle. Joon absently rubbed her arms as the painful memory played through her mind. “The worst was when she’d whip me before my cuts healed from the last whipping. That made me wanna die.”
“Yeah, but like, what did you actually do to piss her off?”
Joon let out a big sigh. “Different things. I got caught eating from the dog’s bowl. Didn’t clean a counter good enough. One of her son’s left a glass on the kitchen table after I was already put in the basement. I don’t know, Pringle. She beat me for anything. She beat me because I was me.”
