Sarah and Liam took Bri down the path along a small, twenty-foot-wide river. Ranches and a small plot of farmland with rolled-up hay bales lined it. About half a mile from the Witman residence, a rope hung from the branch, and during the summer, there would be any number of kids swinging off and into the water. This time the three had it to themselves.
Bri, in a full swimsuit, went right in. Swinging from the rope with no hesitation. The mini version of Sarah constantly reminded her of what middle school was like. Fun. Sarah had a lot of fun back then, too, and was glad Bri shared similar experiences. To Liam’s chagrin, Bri just had to come along.
Liam grabbed Sarah’s bottom as Bri swam back. Sarah rejected the motion with a step back reflex, hoping Bri didn’t see it. Not that Sarah minded Liam getting touchy. Sarah took her shirt off, revealing a pink bikini, and wanted to do the rope and splash in the small river. Liam let out a light cough and motioned with his eyes down the path, signaling to Sarah where they should go first.
“Stay here, Bri. We’ll be right back.”
“Why?” She hollered while holding the rope, ready for a second swing.
“No reason,” Sarah began walking with Liam, “just stay here.”
“Ok,” she splashed again into the river.
“Fucking finally,” Liam said as they rushed to one of their usual spots. Behind a large tree surrounded by bushes. “Need some.”
“No condom,” Sarah said.
“Even better.”
They stepped off the concrete path and into the tall grass, making their way to the tree. It mainly was dirt around the thick trunk, with roots weaving in and out of the ground.
Liam lay down and said. “Take your shorts off.” He said.
“No condom.”
“Ugh, come on.”
“Be happy you’re getting any action at all.” She slid her hands on his chest, then she saw someone on the path.
She stopped and ducked a little. The pedestrian walking the dog met her eyes.
“What is it?” Liam said, perturbed that she stopped.
“It’s Duck Face.”
Despite Timothy not caring and continuing down the path, Liam yelled, “Keep walking, Duck Face.”
“Real original,” Timothy yelled back as he paced down the path.
“What a dick,” Sarah said.
***
Liam had a grin on his face. He figured jumping into the river afterward would be good enough to clean up. Sarah stood up, stretched her hand, and waited on the path as Liam brushed off his backside a bit.
“Hope I don’t get a tick again,” he mumbled as he caught up.
He was still all over her on the way back. Teasing her by grabbing at her bikini knot to untie it. Overwhelmed by the strength difference, she couldn’t defend herself against Liam’s physicality. He always knew when to stop, as her facial expression would say.
“Sorry,” he said.
Sarah changed the subject. “Have you gotten your schedule yet?”
“I got my dad for first period, and my mom will let me skip class.”
“Looks like we’re at least in math class together.” They walked side by side, close to the right side of the path. “Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
The path wound around a corner. The thick foliage and trees made it hard to see up ahead. But neither expected to see an ambulance slamming the brakes right on the path. Did they pop a curb? The two teens stood still and watched. And then Sarah spotted Bri on the ground, coughing up water, her hands barely holding herself up. No. A Heimlich maneuver.
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Timothy, dripping wet from head to toe, stood by her side, leaning over her and slapping her back, forcing the water out of her lungs.
They both froze. “We’re in deep shit,” Liam said. A police car pulled up, also on the path meant for pedestrians. “Real deep shit.”
A paramedic motioned for a drenched Timothy to move away, and another immediately got an oxygen mask on Bri. Bri’s eyes bugged out, her lungs heaved in and out like an engine. The officer stepped out and noticed Bri had her eyes open, breathing, and began talking to Timothy. After a moment, he patted him on his back, and he and Twain were off. Continuing their walk.
Sarah tugged on Liam's arm, and they made it further around the bend to the scene.
“That’s my sister,” Sarah said.
“I almost drowned.” Sarah spotted that her ankles were scratched up. “I got stuck.”
“A lot of debris from the small flood last year.” The officer said. “We need to write a report.”
The paramedics continued their routine. Praising Bri for being brave and following directions.
“Wait,” Sarah said. “She’s fine, officer. Does there need to be a report?”
“Yeah.”
Liam interjected. “It’ll affect my spot on the team.”
The officer then recognized Liam. “The quarterback?”
“Yes, officer.” Liam leaned in to read his badge. “Pace.”
He held his hand to his chin. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. So how are you related and what was going on?”
Sarah stepped forward, right in front of the officer. “Liam won’t be able to play, and my parents will ground us both. Do you have siblings?” She grabbed her hands and stretched them low, her arms pushing her chest together.
The officer hesitated. “Yeah, I have siblings.”
“Have you never left them alone before? Like at the mall?” She used her history knowledge that going to the mall was common when Officer Pace was in high school. Raising onto a toe, she rose, getting closer to him, tightening her arms more.
The officer turned to the paramedics and Bri. “How is she?”
“Fine,” one said, putting the oxygen tank away.
“Alright, mistakes happen.” He put his pen and pad away. “Though that boy who saved her life. You might want to thank him. Do you know his name?”
“Du— Timothy, Timothy Kline. We’ve shared classes since elementary school.”
“Looks like you all do know each other. Before you go,” the officer swallowed. “I have a son your age—”
“I have a boyfriend,” she pointed to Liam.
Officer Pace didn’t care. “Well, you should talk to him sometime.”
***
Sarah held onto Bri’s arm as they drove back home together. “I’m fine,” Bri said. “Really.”
“Mom is going to be so pissed,” Sarah said. “Please don’t say anything.”
Bri grinned. “Yeah right.”
“What do you want?” The car remained at a stop sign, next to the train tracks. Large lights turned on as a night crew labored while the sun lowered.
“One night with Liam.”
Sarah chuckled. However, Liam would be pervy enough to take up that offer. “For real.”
“Money.”
“And what will a thirteen-year-old do with money? Go clubbing? Buy a car?”
“Take me shopping and buy me cute clothes.”
“Deal.”
“And—”
Sarah sighed. “And what?”
“That’s it. Shopping together. But I want lots of clothes.”
She loosened on the brake and they crossed the tracks, getting closer to home. “Shopping it is.”
***
“Holy Hell,” Dr. Carr said. “Bri nearly drowned because you went off to have sex with Liam?” Without a response from Sarah, she continued. “I don’t know what to do with you right now.”
“I’m eighteen.”
The mother looked so intensely at her, the piercing changed Sarah’s tune. “This entire time, I thought it was great you were finally spending time with Bri. She looks up to you. But it was all to keep her quiet.” Sarah looked down. “Ok. But the Kine’s homeless right now. First things first,” Dr. Carr sighed.
“Can we make a quick stop?”
Her mom looked at her like she was crazy. Her child who broke into the school now wants more. “It better be good.”
***
She knocked hard on the door. Over and over. A light turned on in the living room. Even so, she didn’t stop knocking, and she wouldn’t until someone answered. The police are all busy anyway if they wanted to call the police.
Liam opened the door. He had a grin on his face and said, “About time you came ba—”
She slapped him. He stepped back and she followed him in, continuing the barrage of slaps across his face, arms, shoulders, anything. She wanted him to feel pain. The parents came down, putting on robes.
“Sarah?” Mr. Witman said.
She hustled to the stairs where they stood midway, and she reached up and started slapping Mr. Witman. Over and over. Liam got a hold of her.
“Timothy is your son you cunt.”
Mrs. Witman looked pissed, and her husband stood still, relaxing his arms.
“Duck Face is no brother of mine,” Liam said.
She bent her knee, kicking him in the groin. After getting several inches of air, he fell to the floor, reeling.
“You’re pathetic. All of you.”
She tried to storm out, but Mr. Witman said, “I did everything I could.”
“Oh. Wow!” She turned back. “I was nice to him as a teacher. Look at me, everyone. I’m fucking father of the year. Fuck you. You’re shit.” With a foot out the door, she yelled back. “And you raised a piece of shit.”
Well… Mr. Witman thought, she’s not wrong.
