Shame - Maggie Wooll

He hadn’t wanted to hurt Chase Riley, hadn’t wanted to run into him in the parking lot, hadn’t wanted ever to have anything to do with that prick in fact. Willow Boy was beyond wondering how that evening had gone downhill so fast—he had been in places where things happened faster, worse things. To say he didn’t regret hitting that cocky, drunken bastard was wrong, if only because Chase took an unlucky fall, if only because it made such a mess of Willow Boy’s brief homecoming. He just didn’t waste much time on regret.

Besides, he would do the same thing again, more or less. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so quick to let Jenny Long slide her chilly hand into his, interlocking fingers the way she did that felt so familiar he was suddenly back in 9th grade and lucky, back before Jenny Long and every other freshman girl discovered their worth to upperclassmen. He might’ve asked Jenny a few more questions when she said she and Chase had split or that Chase had some “troubles.” But it wouldn’t have mattered. Willow Boy didn’t feel duped. He would’ve taken Jenny’s hand and the way she leaned into his shoulder so that he could smell that red-blond hair without barely bending his head no matter. What he should’ve done was been more alert, maybe a little faster and he could’ve gotten Jenny to the truck and not messed with Chase at all.

Willow Boy was taken off guard when Chase Riley pulled up in his big red F150 all tricked out with chrome and tinted windows, blocking their path and leaping down with the engine still running and the door open, but it had all seemed inevitable. Maybe it was: the half-empty parking lot, the distant sounds of the crowd, Chase with his sour breath and reddened eyes, Willow Boy’s own mouth sour and his head fuzzy, Jenny trembling at his side and whispering “meth”—it had all seemed as inevitable as the velvet night. Then Chase let loose on Jenny calling her every name in the book that revolved around being a whore or a bitch or having female body parts and hopping around the whole time, twitching and jerking like some kind of puppet so that it made Willow Boy’s stomach turn just to track him.

Willow Boy had felt Jenny stop trembling, had known she was ready to reply, and he just didn’t want to hear it. Suddenly he was so tired and he just didn’t want to know if Jenny Long had anything that ugly inside her. He’d looked up at the Milky Way blazing above and yielded to the inevitability of it all. His stomach stopped churning and his head cleared and when Chase Riley neared again, he hit him. And it was a lucky hit because Chase’s drug-crazed eyes were only for Jenny. He hit him again and now he had his attention. Hit him again and Chase was hitting back and Willow Boy knew he’d underestimated the other man’s strength and knew he might be in real trouble except for the curb got in the way, upset Chase’s footing, the truck getting in the way of his head before it hit hard on the asphalt. Willow Boy regretted only that he’d continued kicking him, over and over again, after he was down.