The Skeletøn Bøy

THIRTY-FØUR

++ C H A P T E R | T H I R T Y - F Ø U R ++

Kenzie sharpened her knife. Her purple hair was pulled back into a ponytail, as to keep it from getting in her face. And she was ready.

She stood on the picnic bench, the one she first met Elliott at, and raised the knife to eye level. She waited for a moment, and then threw the knife.

It landed in the center of a target that was stapled to a tree standing one hundred feet away. Kenzie smirked and placed her hands on her hips, proud of her work. Knife throwing wasn't easy, nor was it all that thrilling when the target was a tree, but it gave Kenzie satisfaction that she was useful.

After years of taking self defence courses, Kenzie was proud to admit that she was a certified badass in a cute pastel colored dress.

Kenzie leaped off of the picnic bench, heading over to retrieve her knife. It was her favorite, with a custom designed handle, one that she crafted herself. Taking woodshop in school was a useful class, one she never regretted taking. Sure, she was the only girl, but it paid off to see the dumbfounded boys staring as she worked a power saw. Flawlessly, she might add.

Usually, boys didn't pay attention to her unless it was to judge her, which Kenzie could care less about. She could really care less about boys in general - they didn't interest her in the slightest. A fact that Kenzie was proud of. Who needed those fuckboys in pastel button up shirts and khakis anyway?

Not her.

No, she was very much interested in a girl that spent way too much time doodling and not enough time talking to Kenzie. Not nearly enough time, Kenzie couldn't help but think.

That girl - her name was Polly, which was short for Paulene - never took notice of Kenzie, which Kenzie sadly chalked up to the fact that Polly probably didn't swing the same way Kenzie did.

Kenzie decided that it was probably for the best, anyway. Polly was the type of girl who wore cutesy shirts with animals on them and Kenzie was the type of girl who threw knives for fun. Not exactly what Kenzie would consider compatible.

The only reason Kenzie liked throwing knives was so she could finally win the competition that was hosted the week before summer at the town center. Usually, the only people that joined in were teenage boys that wore camo and hats with fishing hooks, and older men who had nothing better to do than try and win the prize money.

Prize money that Kenzie so desperately needed.

Elliott isn't the only one with secrets, Kenzie bitterly thought. Elliott's also not the only one running from her past.

Kenzie took a moment to picture Elliott, with short hair and a hard expression. Elliott was a bad case of bottled up emotions that would soon explode, but even so, Kenzie found herself liking the gender confused girl. Elliott was refreshing and alarmingly down to earth.

Kenzie loved that. Loved that someone else had secrets to keep and pasts to run from. It meant she wasn't the only one.

It made Elliott easy to connect and relate to. It also put Kenzie at ease.

She threw the knife again, hitting the bulls eye for the tenth time in a row that afternoon. Kenzie was good - better than the hick boys who would for sure put on a show during the competition. Better than the middle aged men who just wanted something to do that was different from drinking beer around a fire.

Her mother didn't approve. Not surprising, but her mother couldn't really control her. She didn't know how. Kenzie knew she was a hard child, and she knew she didn't make it easy on her mother. It probably didn't help that Kenzie hated her mother.