Girl, 11 by Amy Clarke (best memoirs of all time TXT) 📕

clear. I started noticing the way you spoke to your friends, and I got it. For you, people are either obstacles to your success or a means of achieving your goals. I was not going to be either.”

“That is utter nonsense.” He hated how his jaw stiffened at her words, how they made his heart race with anger and embarrassment. “And I cannot believe you are doing this again. Humiliating me in front of dozens of people, again.”

Loretta glanced around, as if just remembering they had an audience. His eyes followed hers. People stood in clusters around them, pretending to talk as glasses clinked and the jazz band played, but he could tell they were watching. Listening.

Looking back at him, she drew her coat around her swollen stomach and folded her arms like a barrier. “I’m not sorry I left you. But I’m sorry I humiliated you. It was not my intention.”

“‘It is better to dwell in a corner of a housetop, than in a house shared with a contentious woman.’” DJ clenched his jaw. “I pity your husband.” Avoiding the gaze of his colleagues, he left the room and ran out into the cold winter night.

He stalked down the sidewalk, sucking in deep breaths of frosty air until his chest burned. His coat had been left behind, but the rage coursing through his blood dulled the cold. After walking aimlessly for a while, he finally turned and headed in the direction of his car. The night was overcast, the dark sky heavy with clouds ready to burst with snow. A storm was coming, and he wanted to be home before it hit. The first flakes were starting to come down by the time he reached his station wagon and got the engine running. DJ pulled out of his parking space and onto the road.

A slight figure passed in front of his car, and he slammed on the brakes as the person jumped back, hands flying to their chest. Pulse skyrocketing yet again, DJ leapt out of the driver’s seat and opened his mouth to start yelling when he saw the person’s pale face, stained with tears above his scarf. It was one of the boys from a class he TA’d for.

“DJ?” the young man asked, drawing out the vowel sound. “Whoa, you almost hit me. I didn’t see you coming at all.”

DJ took a step toward him. “Sorry about that. I pulled out of my space pretty fast there. Are you all right? It’s Kerry, isn’t it?”

Kerry nodded, body shivering. “Yes. And yeah, I’m fine.” He turned and started to walk again.

“Wait!” The word left DJ’s mouth before he had time to think about it. When Kerry looked back at him, he pointed to his car, the driver’s side door still hanging open. “Do you want a ride? It’s way too cold to be walking.”

Kerry glanced at his car, then shrugged. “Sure, thanks. Freezing my nuts off out here.”

Once they were both buckled in, Kerry gave DJ directions to his apartment, and they were off into the night again.

Several moments passed in silence. Kerry adjusted himself in the passenger’s seat, pulled his scarf down, wiped an ungloved hand across his face.

Finally, DJ said, “So, why were you out walking? Cold night for a stroll.”

Kerry’s laugh was bitter. “You could say that. Uh, my girlfriend dumped me, actually.”

Hands tightening on the steering wheel, DJ slowed the car. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Kerry cleared his throat—a deep, guttural sound. “It’s fine. I’m fine. She’ll come around, I’m sure. Just overreacting to a stupid fight.”

“Right.” DJ licked his lower lip. At a stoplight, he turned to look at the younger man. “You’re better off without her, trust me.”

Kerry met his gaze in the dim, reddish glow. His eyes were wet, but no more tears were falling. DJ could count on one hand the number of men he’d seen weep in his lifetime, and the sight made him uncomfortable.

“I love her.”

“She obviously doesn’t love you.”

The light turned green, and DJ pressed down on the accelerator. Kerry turned away from him, looking out the window.

“I’m sorry if that’s harsh, and I know it’s none of my business, but trust me. I’ve been where you are, and it’s not worth it.” DJ thought of Loretta tonight, defiant and swollen with another man’s child. She would have given him nothing but trouble.

“This is it,” Kerry said when they rounded the corner, but DJ did not slow down. “Hello? You passed my apartment.”

DJ stared out the windshield, speeding up.

“Hey, man, what are you doing? Take me back there.” When DJ didn’t listen, Kerry grasped the door handle and opened it.

The car swerved as DJ tried to pull over, but Kerry was already out the door by the time his station wagon slid into the curb. Rage zipping through him, DJ jumped out of the driver’s seat and followed him.

Kerry was clearly hurt from the fall, limping as he tried to run across the icy sidewalk back toward his apartment. DJ stalked after him, unsure what he planned to do. He had to find a way to stop this, get through to him. He couldn’t watch another man make the same mistakes he did, let a stupid woman who didn’t know his worth tear his life apart.

Within a few seconds, DJ had caught up and run around to stand in front of Kerry on the sidewalk. He was taller than the boy, stronger too. Even with the bulky coat, Kerry was slender—weak. It was no surprise this girl had left him, hurtful as it might be.

“Seriously, what the fuck is going on?” Kerry was breathing hard, hunched over to rub his right leg where he’d rolled out of the moving car. “Why are you being so weird?”

“I’m just trying to get through to you, Kerry!” DJ took a step forward. If he could just get the boy to look up at him, look up to him, maybe he would understand. “You’re in your last year, and I’ve seen you in class. You