Eleven Years Earlier

Mom had left to go out again. Lord knows where she went or with whom. I could never count on my mother, Patricia, for anything. There were only two people I could depend on in my life: Nana and Justin.

The one good thing about Mom leaving me alone most nights was that it allowed me to sneak out of the house and go wherever I wanted. Nana assumed my mother was home half of the time, so she couldn’t stop me.

Justin and I were planning to meet in fifteen minutes. We were going to the mall to hang out with some of the other eighth graders from school. These kids were part of the cool crowd that Justin and I had been trying to break into. Because the two of us mainly hung out with each other, we really weren’t associated with any one clique.

He was waiting at the corner with his hands in his pockets. I loved when he wore his baseball cap backwards and the way the dirty blond strands of hair peeked out of the sides. I was starting to notice little things like that more and more lately. It was hard not to.

He walked toward me. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

Justin started to run. “We have to hurry up. The next bus is in five minutes.”

I didn’t know why the thought of hanging out with these kids was making me so nervous. Justin didn’t seem nervous at all. He was more confident than me in general.

When we stepped inside the mall, the fluorescent lights were a sharp contrast to the dark winter outside. We were supposed to be meeting these kids at the food court, so we made our way to a map of the three-story building.

My heart was pounding as we approached the two boys and a girl who were standing outside of an Auntie Annie’s pretzel stand. Justin could tell I was on edge.

“Don’t be nervous, Patch.”

The first thing I remember hearing out of Chandler’s mouth was, “What the hell is that?”

“What?”

“Did you shit yourself, Amelia?”

My heart was now beating out of my chest as I looked down at myself. I knew that despite my nerves, I hadn’t lost control of my bowels. One knows if that happens, right? No. This was not poop; it was blood. I wasn’t prepared for it because it was the first time I’d ever gotten my period. At thirteen, I was later than most of the other girls I knew. This was probably the worst timing imaginable.

Justin looked down then up into my panicked eyes.

I mouthed to him, “It’s blood.”

Without hesitation, he gave me a quick nod as if to say that he had it covered.

“It’s blood,” he said.

“Blood? Ew…gross!” the other boy, Ethan, said.

“Amelia stabbed herself with my knife on the way here.”

I’d been looking down, but I whipped my head up and looked over at my friend incredulously.

Chandler’s eyes widened. “She stabbed herself?”

“Yeah.” Justin smiled. To my surprise, he took a pocket knife out of his jacket. “See this here? I carry it everywhere with me. It’s a Swiss Army knife. Anyway, I was showing it to Amelia on the bus. I dared her to stab herself in the abdomen. Crazy girl that she is, she actually did it. So, anyway, she’s got blood on her pants now.”

“Are you joking?”

“Wish I was, dude.”

The three of them looked at each other before Chandler said, “That’s the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever heard!”

Ethan smacked my arm. “Seriously, Amelia. That’s some epic shit right there.”

Justin laughed. “Yeah, so anyway…we figured we’d come say ‘hey’ since we were almost here anyway…but we should probably get her to the emergency room.”

“Cool, man. Let us know how it goes.”

“Alright.”

“What the heck did you just do?” I whispered as we walked away.

“Don’t say anything. Just walk.”

The cool night air hit us as we exited the rotating doors of the mall. We stood on the sidewalk and stared at each other for a moment before breaking into hysterical laughter.

“I can’t believe you came up with that crazy story.”

“Not that you should be ashamed of the truth, but I knew you were embarrassed. So, I wanted to do something. You were pulling on your hair like crazy.”

“I was? I didn’t even realize.”

“Yeah. You do that when you’re really nervous.”

“I never knew you noticed that.”

His eyes travelled down to my lips for a moment when he said, “I notice everything about you.”

Feeling suddenly flush, I changed the subject. “I never knew you carried a knife.”

“I always do. You know, in case something happens when we’re out. I need to be able to protect you.”

My heart that was beating for those jerks just a moment ago was now beating incessantly for an entirely different reason.

“I’d better get home.”

“There’s a drug store right there. Why don’t you go get something. Ask them if they have a bathroom you can use.”

I went inside and used the money I had reserved for video games at the mall arcade to buy a box of maxi pads and some cheap granny underwear. I’d tackle tampons later when I had time to figure out how to use them.

When I emerged, Justin took off his hoodie and handed it to me. “Here, wrap this around your waist.”

“Thank you.”

“Where are we going now?” he asked.

“What do you mean? I have to get home! I have blood all over my pants.”

“No one can see it with my jacket wrapped around you.”

“I still don’t feel comfortable.”

“I really don’t want to go back home tonight, Patch. I know where we can go…where we won’t know anyone. It’s some place I go by myself sometimes. Come on.”

Justin led me down the sidewalks of Providence. After about ten minutes, we turned a corner and approached a small red building. I looked up at the illuminated sign.

“This is a movie theater?”

“Yup. They show the kind of movies that nobody knows about or that people don’t talk about. The best part? They don’t even care how old you are here.”

“Are they bad movies?”

“No. Not like those naked kind of movies, the ones I told you my dad watches. No. These ones are like foreign with subtitles and stuff.”

Justin bought two tickets and a popcorn for us to share. The theater smelled musty and was practically empty, which was perfect considering I didn’t want to see anyone tonight. Even though the seats were sticky, this was just what I needed.

The movie was a French film with subtitles, called L’Amour Vrai. The cinematography was mesmerizing, and the plot was more serious than the comedies we normally watched. But it was perfect. Perfect not only because of what was on the big screen but because of who was next to me. I lay my head on Justin’s shoulder and thanked God for a friend who always knew exactly what I needed. There was also a twinge of something unidentifiable running through me, a gnawing feeling that would eventually identify itself over time and reach its pinnacle shortly before I ran away from it all.

That wasn’t the last independent film Justin and I would watch together at the little red theater. That place became our secret hangout over the next couple of years. Indie movies became our thing. Going there wasn’t about being seen at the big cinema or running into people from school. It was a place where we could both escape from reality without being watched, a place where we could be together and get lost in a different world at the same time.

The following afternoon, I listened from my window as Justin sat on Nana’s stoop, playing a new song I’d never heard him perform before. It sounded like I Touch Myself by the Divinyls, but he’d changed it to I Stab Myself.

Gotta love that kid.