Little Green Stars

Chapter 2-Dodger's Suck

"How can such a sweet thing come from such a monster?" I ask Jaxson as I twirl Sila's red curls around my finger.

The daycare lady shoots me a shocked look as Silas plops out of my hands to waddle like a spinning top over to the tub of building blocks.

"Have a great day," I respond to her accusative look as Jaxson and I head for the door.

"You're talking about me, right?" Jaxson says, flicking his Cheeto-like short curls into my face.

"You're so jealous you aren't my favorite anymore."

"Listen, what was that about this morning?" Jaxson says, his eyes dropping to the pavement.

"You have no idea what bullshit she's done now."

"Here's the thing: I do."

"What?" Jaxson's words stop me midway through the crosswalk.

"She told me last night."

"Are you kidding me?!"

"Man, I'm really gonna miss it, but—"

"But what?!"

"Let's just get out of the road," Jaxson says, trying to pull my arm to get me to move.

"Don't tell me you're siding with her!" I yell, throwing my backpack down. I'm kind of known for dramatics.

"Damn, Vel. There's no sides! Why does there always have to be a side?" Jaxson throws his arms up in frustration and jogs the remainder of the crosswalk.

Once he's across, I watch the light turn green as he waves his arms like a deranged chicken, trying to get me to hurry up and cross. Instead, I fold my arms stubbornly and stare him down as honks begin to chorus around me. That traitor!

"But WHAT Jaxson?" I yell across to him.

"BUT MAYBE CHANGE IS GOOD!" Jaxson yells back as cars begin to drive around me.

"IT WASN'T YOUR HOME!"

Jaxson responds with a shoulder shrug and a sad face as he brings his hands together to form a heart. I turn to pick up my backpack when —WHACK!

I jump back as my hip is bumped, knocking me off balance. I look up to see a scared face peering up over the steering wheel from under a Dodgers hat. That explains a lot. 

"DON'T YOU SEE ME WALKING HERE?!" I yell, slinging my backpack over my shoulder and rubbing my hip.

It's some dumb kid. He doesn't even say anything. Instead, he just stares with wide eyes as if he'd just seen a ghost. Jesus. What is his problem? I'm the one who almost got ran over. Jaxson's hands are soon pulling me across the road while yelling, "Watch where you're going!"

"Are you okay?!" he says as we dodge through the honking horns. "Was that Maverick? It kinda looked like his mom's car."

"No, some dumbass wearing a Dodgers hat, I didn't recognize him," I reply, shoving his helping hands away.

"Damn, why you gotta be so—"

"Crazy? It runs in the family, remember?"

Jaxson stops as soon as we get across the road. "Vel, I know we need to talk about the house, but right now, I gotta go. I promised Rina I'd walk her to class."

I'm pretty sure my eyes roll out of my head."My god, are we in middle school?"

"Vel, I like her. I mean, I REALLY like her. So ya, my ass is going to walk her to class."

"Ya, I do too," I admit and scrunch my nose in irritation as Jaxson gives me an elbow bump and heads off.

Honestly, I didn't want to like Rina. It's always been just Jaxson and me because us "gingers" are the anomalies of the town. Not only are we known for coming from a line of crazies, but we have that red, RED hair. Not even Jaxson's dark skin could stop that infamous Shamrock red curls. Needless to say, us Shamrocks are the stand-out kind, which is why I liked Rina when she moved here a month ago and brought some diversity with her. I know how excited Jaxson was to have a little more color here in old, white-ass Sweet Home, Oregon.

"Oh, hey!" Jaxson calls back as he heads off with an excited skip. "Rina wants to hang out after school. That cousin she was talking about finally moved here over the weekend. She wants us to meet him!"'

I throw up my hands in the air to make a heart as Jaxson continues to skip off. As I watch Jaxson blur out of sight, I get a strange feeling. The kind that grows, and you can't ignore it. Curiosity. I need to know. I need to know what asshole bought my house. A quick detour won't hurt; it's not like geometry ever helped anyone anyways.

HillCrest drive. At the end of this road is my home. MY HOME. The home I grew up in and in that yard is our treehouse, the one Jaxson and I spent every waking hour in growing up. And as I get closer, there in the distance, I see our tree. Mom always loved that tree, hell she loved any tree. She always went on rants that there is more humanity in a single tree than combined in all the people in this town. I never understood what she meant, but then again, no one ever understood anything she said.

The air gets heavy, the closer I get to the house. Maybe it's just me being dramatic per usual, or maybe it's just my heart launching itself out of place and slamming into my lungs. In the driveway sits a truck I don't recognize. The garage is open, and boxes are scattered. It's true. There's even a newspaper box newly imprinted into the grass by the curb. What kind of assholes are these people? Who reads the actual newspaper anymore? Anger surges through me at the bullshittery of it all. I grab the nearest thing I can find—this time, an empty Pepsi can caught in the gutter rail—and throw it at the intrusive newspaper box. It misses and lands on the grass.

I think I feel a tear whelming in my eye, but I quickly wipe it as Maeve's words pop into my head: Put on your big girl panties and handle it. I grew up listening to her tell me that when I'd cry over something she considered "stupid." I guess I can thank her for at least one thing: teaching me not to give a shit. But here's the deal: I do give a shit. I give LOTS of shits. This is my home, and it's been ripped from me by someone who reads the actual newspaper like an un-tech savvy boomer.

I can't look at this anymore. But before I turn to walk away, I see it. There on the bumper of the Mazda sitting uninvited in my driveway—a Dodger's bumper sticker.

*Hey guys, I hope you're enjoying the story so far! Please take a second to vote -unless you're a Dodger's fan :) -Barbara (full disclosure, I know nothing about baseball)