Page 9 - Scar Girl

S car G I r L

I sat on Johnny’s bed and started picking, and right
away I saw him smiling. He recognized the guitar part

for what it was: a really good riff. I was just about to
launch into the lyrics and melody when my brain hit the
pause button. Oh, shit, I thought. I can’t sing this song for
Johnny.

CHEYENNE BELLE
After feeling the baby move, I knew I couldn’t put it off
anymore, so I got up super early the day after the gig,

like eight thirty, took the number twenty bus up Central
Avenue, got off at Underhill, and walked the rest of the way
to Johnny’s house. The walk is way more than a mile, first
up and then down a steep hill. I was tired and not feeling

quite right, and by the time I got there, almost two hours
after I left home, I was a bit of a wreck.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Theresa had
asked from her bed as I was leaving the house. She was still

bleary from whatever she’d been doing the night before.
Part of me really wanted to have someone with me when I
told Johnny, but I knew I needed to do this alone. I told her,
“No, thanks.” She nodded, flopped her head back down on

the pillow, and was snoring before I left the room.
I didn’t even know if Johnny was home, which, given
how I was feeling, I suppose was pretty stupid. I don’t
know why I didn’t call first. Maybe I wanted to catch him

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