Exposed Read Online Free PDF Page B

didn’t and she says it again,
“But he didn’t.”
    She says that instead he said,
“Shhh, Katie. You’re so beautiful.”
    She says he took the throw pillow
with the pink and yellow flowers
from under her head and put it over her face.
    She says he said,
“We’re just having fun.”
    She says the pillow smelled musty and it was hard to breathe
and one arm was pressed between her body and the couch and
she hit him and tried to scratch him on the back with her
other hand but he grabbed it and pushed it under her body
and she thought her shoulder would pop and he rubbed his
hands all over her.
    She says he said,
“Nice, Katie.”
    She says she tried to scream again and he pressed the pillow
harder and grabbed at her sweatpants and her underwear
and got them down below her knees and he felt so heavy and she
couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe and then it hurt ithurtsobad
and then he was done.
    And she’s looking at me
but she’s not here anymore.
And I open my mouth
to say something to bring her back
but she holds her palm out
as if she might wave good-bye,
and says he moved the pillow.
    He moved the pillow and she could breathe and she was so
happy she could breathe
and he ran his fingers through her hair and she jumped up,
pulled her pants back on.
    She says he said,
as she ran for the stairs,
“Hey, you’re something.”

a ≠ b
     
    It’s mild out but I’m freezing.
There’s a pressure in my head
that doesn’t feel right.
And “It was just sex, Lizzie”
does not add up
to this.

I’m Sorry
     
    I reach out for her
but she holds her arms
tight around her middle,
tears streaming,
and, for the first time ever,
she apologizes before I do.
    “I’m sorry, Liz,
but I can’t be with you anymore.
Every time I’m with you,
I see him.”
    I know I should say something soothing,
but I didn’t expect this.
I did not expect her
to be done
with me.
    She’s crying hard now.
So am I.
“This isn’t my fault!” I say.
She says she knows.
    “I thought we were friends!
Forever-best friends!”
    “We were,” she whispers,
and I have to strain to hear,
watching her breath form a white cloud
as it hits the autumn air
and disappears.

Empty
     
    I run,
not knowing where I’m going, but I run.
Around the building, down the street,
my sneakers smacking the pavement so hard,
shooting fire up my shins.
    I run past twelve years of friendship,
matching clothes and birthday parties,
jumping on beds and catching crickets,
too-long phone calls and belly laughs,
passing notes and building dreams.

Mold
     
    When I get home I run downstairs,
grab the pillow from the couch,
hold it close to my nose
and gag.

Flesh and Blood
     
    Could someone I’ve lived with,
someone I love and trust,
do something so heinous?
    Am I related to
this?
To someone capable of
this?

This and That
     
    My eyes move back and forth
scanning the shelf in my room
until I find what I’m looking for.
    I pull down an album of family photos
and flip through, faster and faster,
until all the memories
blur together
like those tiny books
he and I used to love,
with stick figures that seem to move
in one fluid motion
when you fan the pages quickly
with your thumb.
    I stop at a snapshot,
Halloween.
I think I was six.
    This boy, wrapped head to toe in gauze,
the only one able to lure a princess
in a pink gown, jeweled tiara,
and scuffed white sneakers
out of her castle by convincing her
that Frankenstein,
coming down the front walk
    of the Cohens’ house,
was just a kid wearing a mask
to hide a monster zit.
    This boy, who held her hand
that whole evening long,
even when his friends ran past
spraying shaving cream
and calling to him to ditch Cinderella.
    This boy, who helped her conquer her fear
and collect her treats.
    How can this boy be that guy?

Because of Him
     
    Because of Mike,
I found Brian.
Because of Mike,
I lost Kate.

Monday Night Dinner
     
    Mom spoons rice onto her plate,
passing the bowl to Dad,
as Mike
shoves food into his mouth like it’s