1

Remy

The trash smells disgusting. “God, did something crawl in there and die?” my friend Clara says beside me as I wheel the trashcan out to the curb. She’s stayed over for horror movie night, a monthly tradition we’ve held since we were twelve.

I hold my breath, face scrunched up tight. “Yeah, whatever that thing was my mom tried to feed us last night.”

“What was that?” Clara says.

“Tofu.”

“Is that some kind of bird, because if it is, it should be hunted until it’s extinct.”

I laugh. Poor Clara. Her family is strictly meat and potatoes. She never even saw a Brussel sprout until we met. She thought it was the cutest little baby cabbage until she actually tried it. Now she calls them devil warts.

“It’s made from soy beans, I think.”

the cement as the day warms up. The sky, with its layers of vibrant

to get to the newspaper before it’s ruined. No matter how many times my mom complains, the guy who delivers

Prius, so I know

driver to exit the vehicle. Then Deacon steps out of the driver’s side and my heart explodes

my god,” I

turns toward my neighbor’s house.

I grab her by the shoulders and twist

talking,” I

“We are talking.”

without being obvious I’m staring,” I say as I watch him

grumbles. “Fine. But hurry

his boxes into

more mature, maybe, and thicker with muscle than I remember. Clearly that confident swagger never went away. That’s

of the truck. I squint to see better. Is that the top of a car seat I see in

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