“I hate her when she hits you.”
“No, you don’t. You just don’t like it,” I said, scolding him softly.
“Why do you defend her?”
“Because she’s our mom, if we don’t defend her, who will?”
“Well, I still don’t like her to hit you,” he added stubbornly.
“I know, but better me than you with your chicken arms,” I joked, reaching over to pinch his arm softly.
“Very funny, sis. One of these days I’m going to grow up, and then we'll see,” he mumbled, drifting back off to sleep.
“I hope so,” I said softly to his sleeping form, pulling the blanket up over us before I drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 3
My alarm startled me awake the next morning as I lay shivering under the thin blanket Kevin and I were sharing; I love the little guy, but man is he a bed hog, I thought, watching him curled up in a tight ball. Taking care not to wake him yet, I painfully climbed out of bed with my sore back protesting my every move.
Having no carpet and no heat made the cold linoleum floor feel like ice against my bare feet. With a clean shirt and my zip-up hoodie in hand, I headed to the bathroom for a shower. I cranked the knob to the hottest setting to let water heat up a bit before stepping inside. Every new bump and bruise throbbed as I slipped out of the t-shirt and jeans I wore to bed last night. After several moments under the soothing water, the chills I had been fighting began to subside. I allowed myself the luxury of a longer shower knowing the hot water would go a long way in easing the pain in my back.
I reluctantly shut off the water when the temperature began to cool and stepped out into the steamy bathroom. Wrapping the only towel I could find in the trailer around my midsection, I swiped my hand across the small medicine cabinet mirror and studied my reflection. The mark on my face had faded significantly, which was a relief. A little foundation would lighten it further.
The cooler air from the rest of the trailer began to seep into the bathroom, causing me to shiver slightly. I stepped back into my only pair of jeans and my clean shirt and hoodie. Finally somewhat warm, I was able to finish getting ready.
By the time I left the bathroom, Kevin and Mom were up, and I could hear them chatting in the kitchen.
“And a new backpack?” I heard Kevin ask.
“Yep, you would get a new backpack, too,” Mom said, looking much more mellowed than she had the day before.
“What’s going on?” I asked, pouring myself a glass of milk.
“Mom said we get to go to the thrift store to pick out school clothes, and she has a voucher so we can get school supplies from some bank.”
I looked at her questioningly.
“I guess one of the banks in Bozeman did a school supply drive this year and they still have stuff left,” she said, lighting up a cigarette. “They gave us a voucher for three hundred dollars for your school clothes and other stuff at some thrift store. If there’s any left, maybe you can get some books, too,” she said, offering an olive branch.
“That would be good,” I said, munching on a piece of toast. As a rule, I always accepted the olive branch Lucinda would hold out. Holding a grudge wasn’t in my nature, and each day brought its own set of challenges already, so holding onto past hurts would have only bogged me down.
“Okay, good. I’ll pick you guys up after school, but starting tomorrow you’ll be busing it,” she said.
“Yay, I get to ride the bus with Katelyn,” Kevin said, bouncing up in his chair.
“Oh joy,” I said, ruffling his hair on the way back to my room.
I made my bed, making a mental note to remember blankets when went to the thrift store later.
***
The drive to school was short and before I knew it, Lucinda was pulling our dumpy car in between two oversized SUVs that looked brand spanking new.
“Wow, this looks like something the president would ride in,” Kevin said, gawking at the large black Ford Expedition off to his right. I smiled. Kevin was obsessed with the President of the United States and referred often to him.
Walking around to his side of the car, I had to agree with him. The vehicle was very imposing with its jet-black paint job, chrome trim and wheels, and tinted windows.
“Sheesh, I wonder who drives that,” I said as we trailed behind Lucinda toward the front door of the school.