Rude Grrrl

There was a skinny girl sitting in his swing. He stood by the monkey bars, watching her. She was twisting in the swing, letting it unravel while dragging her feet slowly in the dirt. She had freckles on her nose and a shock of short hair the color of burnt cinnamon.

He walked up to the swings and stopped a few feet in front of her. She opened her eyes and stared and he thought he heard her growl. Her eyes turned into slits.

"Hey," he started slowly. "You're sitting on my swing."

"Doofus! You don't own the playground," she snapped.

He felt something inside him deflate. For some reason he didn't know why, he just simply laughed. He reached into his paper bag and held out a turkey sandwich.

"Here. Turkey, with Miracle Whip," he said, adding, "You like Miracle Whip?"

She lunged out of the swing, grabbed the sandwich, sniffed it and nibbled around the edges cautiously.

She twisted her head and squinted up at him. He looked away.

"That's my school right there," he said, pointing his stick off to his right and up the hill.

"You're the new kid, huh?"

"Duh," she replied, munching on his sandwich. "What's yer name, kid."

"Spice," he said, still staring at the school. "Yours?"

"Spice? Spice?" she repeated, gleefully cackling. Little specs of sandwich flew out of her mouth.

"Yeah, it's a hoaky story, if you wanna know the truth."

He stepped forward and sat down in the swing next to her.

"Spice?" she repeated. "Ha! Spice isn't a name. You should be called Pepper, or Ginger, or maybe Basil! Ha ha ha!"

"My Nana nicknamed me," he said, slowly starting to swing. "I remind her of my dad - says I'm a dead ringer. He's been gone a long time. She still has a bottle of his Old Spice up on her dresser. She won't throw it away."

"I'd throw that stinky piece of shit away." She edged menacingly closer. He was glad the swing couldn't reach too much closer.

"What's your name?" he asked her.

"Nolene," she said, grinning. "Get it? I ain't got no legs. Wanna have some fun?"

"Yeah, a girl in a swing with no legs. I know that dumb joke," he said, slightly frowning. "How old are you, anyway?"

"Twelve."

"Me, too."

He looked away and then returned her stare.

"Your name ain't Nolene. That's a ridiculous name."

"You'll see," she said. "You'll hear all about me at school."

"Well, I guess I will."

"I have to go," she said. She rose suddenly and dug into her pocket.

"Here you go, Basil boy. Happy Valentine's!"

She tossed an envelope on his lap.

"Hey!" he called after her. "Hey! See you at school!"

"Not if I see you first!" she yelled as she sprinted away. "You're about as smart as a padlock without a key!"

As she ran off, he bent down to investigate the envelope. He peeled it open and dried rose petals fell out.

"Smells better than shtinky Old Spice, don't it?"

She had stopped about a hundred yards off, hands at her hips. She turned and looked over her shoulder once before she disappeared through the trees.

He slowly started to swing. He mouthed her name. The shadows slanted and the sky turned pink and blue as the sun began sinking behind the hills.

He wondered if she would talk to him in the halls at school. He thought it would be a good thing to have a rude girl for a friend.

He closed his eyes and listened to the swing creaking, the envelope still clenched in his hand. One by one, the remaining petals fell out, and slowly, lifted up by the breeze, they each floated away.