knew what it was, even though I had never touched one before.
I couldn't knee him in the groin like Dad had told me to if a guy jumped
on me, because my knees were outside his legs, so I bit him hard on the
ear. It must have hurt, because he yelled and hit me in the face. Blood
started gushing out of my nose.
The other kids heard the ruckus and came running. One of them opened
the shed door, and Billy and I scrambled out, pulling on our clothes.
"I kissed Jeannette!" Billy yelled.
"Did not!" I said. "He's a liar! We just got into a fight, that's all."
He was a liar, I told myself all the rest of the day. I hadn't really kissed
him, or at least it didn't count. My eyes had been open the entire time.
The next day I took the ring to Billy Deel's house. I found him out back,
sitting in an abandoned car. Its red paint had been bleached by the desert
sun and had turned orange along the rusting trim. The tires had collapsed
a long time ago, and the black rag roof was peeling. Billy was sitting in
the driver's seat, making engine noises in his throat and pretending to
work a phantom stick shift.
I stood nearby, waiting for him to acknowledge me. He didn't, so I spoke
first. "I don't want to be your friend," I said. "And I don't want your ring
anymore."
"I don't care," he said. "I don't want it, either." He kept looking straight
ahead through the cracked windshield. I reached through the open
window, dropped the ring in his lap, and turned and walked away. I heard
the click and clunk of the car door opening and closing behind me. I kept
walking. Then I felt a sharp sting on the back of my head as if a little
rock had hit me. Billy had thrown the ring at me. I kept walking.