A Fistful of God Read Online Free PDF Page A

away.
    Besides, I didn’t want my mom and Jackson arranging me like I was some little kid who hadn’t been invited to a birthday party and now needs Mommy to soothe her feelings.
    I turned to tell Mom I wanted to go home. She stared at Jackson. Her hand clutched her purse strap over and over, her fingers pacing on the leather. It hit me. She wanted to get away as badly as I did. Only she needed a drink. If I let her go, she might forget to come back. I’d end up walking home, and everyone would know why.
    “I said I don’t want to go.” I turned away.
    “Why not? We’re just regular people, you know.” Jackson’s mouth had gone tight, and I figured he thought I was a snob or something, and I’d ticked him off. Just as well. He had Shannon, after all.
    Instead of going back to her, though, he grabbed my arm and tugged me after him. I yanked away but he laughed. “Come on. I bet your mom has something to do. Just come, OK?”
    He had no idea what Mom had to do. No idea. I looked back at her, but she just tipped her head toward him, like everything was fine with her. I bet it was. I wanted to cry, but instead I lifted my chin and pretended I wasn’t mad.
    When we got to where Shannon waited he started to introduce us, but Shannon said, “We know each other.” She looked at me with no expression that I could read on her face. What could she be thinking? She’d gotten rid of me years ago, and now she had to deal with me all over again. I ducked my head.
    “You do?” Jackson looked from me to her. His mouth did one of its funny little quirks, like he didn’t believe her.
    “We used to be best friends,” Shannon said. It struck me that I hadn’t heard her voice in years, but it sounded the same, or softer, not as hateful as I pretended I always remembered. Jackson made a good buffer.
    “So why not now?” Jackson asked. Some buffer. He finally let go of my arm, and I rubbed where he’d gripped it. It burned.
    “It just happened,” Shannon said. She looked down then up again with a brilliant smile I didn’t recognize.
    I stared at a poster that proclaimed “Believe!” and tried to get my face where I didn’t look as mad as I felt. It just happened , huh? She was the one who’d walked away from me. She hadn’t bothered to stand up for our friendship, so it was her fault. Hers and Mom’s.
    “OK,” Jackson said, and I knew he was holding back on the questions. He’d ask them later, but he wouldn’t ask me. Why would he want my take on it?
    We sat in the last row as Jackson had promised Mom, me on one side of him and Shannon on the other. In front of us sat a bunch of kids, and I recognized a few. Wallis and Miguel plopped down in the chairs right in front of me, scooching them over so I was pinned in, then Miguel turned and smacked Jackson’s knee.
    “You’re not playing fair. There you sit with those two cute girls and look what I get.” He jerked his thumb at Wallis, who waggled his eyebrows and pretended to be coy. “Didn’t your mama teach you to share? C’mere, Shannon. Sit with me.”
    Shannon gave a glare she must have practiced, and he shrugged. When he winked I jerked my chin down, mad that he’d made fun of me. I am not cute. I look like Mom. We’re both short, we have long, thin faces, dark, curly hair, and nice eyes, though I don’t suppose anyone notices mine because of my glasses.
    Lucy’s voice boomed over the PA. “Let’s get started.”
    Miguel turned around, and I straightened, though I didn’t look up.
    Lucy called a couple of names and people straggled up. Someone had a guitar, and Lucy had a flute, and they started a song that was so different from what they’d played in church that I had to listen. It had a beat, and kids started clapping to it right away. I tried to find the rhythm, but I saw Shannon lean toward Jackson, whisper something, and glance around him at me. I shoved my hands into my pockets and acted like I’d known all along I was supposed to just