by Dan Dillard
*****
Nothing of any significance happened the rest of that school year. Danny’s grades were good and so were mine. We caught up with Alex and although I didn’t see his sister, Vicky, naked again, I saw her often. There’s something about seeing a girls breasts live in person. I never looked at her without blushing and she hardly looked at me without sighing or rolling her eyes. Despite the fact she was two years older, or maybe because of it, I had developed a mean a crush on her.
Dad crawled back into the bottle and wedged himself there worse than ever. Somehow, he still managed to get up and go to work each day, and although it sounds like a plus that he never laid a hand on me again, I’m not sure which was worse, the beatings or the silence. My relationship with mom improved although she was never what you might consider loving. Those months just after Robin died may have been the period in my life where we were the closest. She didn’t hug me often or say much that was encouraging, but I understood her and she understood me. It was in her eyes.
