“Kendall,” Shifty said softly, bringing me out of a sleep.

“What?” I grumbled. Shifty shook me awake, pulling my shirt up, he moved my arms and started dragging my pants down my body until they were resting beside me on the chair.

My mind was aware of what was happening. I knew it wasn’t right, but I physically couldn’t do anything about it.

His lips were on my face, grazing my cheek, my neck, and my lips. Every minute or so he’d say my name to gauge how conscious I was.

Feeling neither angry nor frightened, I pressed my knees together. It was all I could do to keep him off me.

“Hey, Kendall,” Renee called from inside the house.

Shifty jumped and started to dress me. “Shh,” he said, shushing me as he did his best to throw my shirt back over my head.

“Oh, hell no!” Renee exclaimed. “Shifty get away from her. What are you doing?”

“Is she out here passed out?” Mason laughed, coming out of the apartment.

I opened my eyes as soon as I heard Mason’s voice. As soon as he saw what was going on, his expression changed. Rage filled his eyes, and he jumped over the patio chairs, grabbing hold of Shifty’s t-shirt.

“I-I wasn’t doing anything,” Shifty stammered.

Mason shoved Shifty toward the edge of the balcony. Renee screamed as Mason nearly shoved Shifty over the balcony, both of them close to falling over.

I did my best to get to my feet, trying to stop Mason from doing something he’d regret later.

“I swear I didn’t do anything. I just took her clothes off,” Shifty said, his hand holding onto Mason’s for dear life.

Mason wasn’t budging.

“You must not value your life too much, trying to take advantage of a girl like that,” he said.

“Mason, stop right now. You’re going to kill him. Put him down before your drop him off my balcony!” Renee screamed. She clutched her chest in a panic to end the standoff.

I pulled at my clothes, pulling it together in a hurry to stop Mason myself. I knew I was the only one who could.

“Do you think I care, Renee?” Mason asked. He released one hand from Shifty’s shirt, sending him farther over the railing. Shifty screamed and begged for his life. He curled his legs around the metal of the railing, holding on for dear life.

“Kendall, did he touch you?” Renee asked me.

Mason was ready to drop Shifty to his death. I could see it in his eyes.

“No. He didn’t do anything to me. Mason just set him back down. God, Mason, we’re all messed up.” I pulled at my hair in frustration.

Renee and I waited. The thought of Shifty’s broken body at the bottom of Renee’s apartment scared me to death. That was the last thing we needed.

Mason grabbed ahold of Shifty’s shirt and pulled him to his feet and away from the railing.

“She just saved your ass,” Mason told him. Mason walked over to me, I slapped him in his head at how stupid he was.

“You had no right to do that. I can take care of myself,” I snapped.

Renee agreed with me and slapped Mason on the other side of his head herself. He was confused by our reactions.

“He was trying to have sex with you. And you’re okay with that?” he scolded.

“It’s not anyone’s fault. Just drop it,” I retorted. “You’re no better than Shifty, Mason. Don’t think I didn’t see you.” Shifty hurried past us—probably to change his underwear after a scare like that.

“You two can sleep here for the night for obvious reasons. But, Mason, you’re a psycho,” she said, giving him one final look.

Mason shook his head and sighed. “I’m the psycho…” he scoffed.

I shrugged my shoulders. “That we are.”

JULY 5

TH

WHEN I THOUGHT BACK on my childhood, I knew it was the furthest thing from having a childhood—I had no favorite toys or tv shows, no trips to the local Dairy Queen for an ice cream cone, and I’d never been to a zoo.

I had no grandparents that kept me on the weekends or even for just a day. I had two uncles. Uncle Ronnie, aka “Snake,” was in his mid-twenties and he’d spent the majority of his youth in jail. Uncle Ronnie was a stunningly handsome man with blond hair and light blue eyes.

Then there was Uncle Piper—yes, that was his name. He was a truck driver with the rage of a rabid bull. He was finally taken down in a violent standoff with the police. Road rage won out in the end for Uncle Piper. He was serving twenty years in prison in South Carolina.

A small part of me liked Uncle Piper. He always gave me attention and talked to me; he seemed interested in knowing about me. It was during his visits that I learned Uncle Piper loved hot rods. His dream was to own every one he drooled over in those car magazines he always bought.

He was tall as an oak tree and strong. I had never seen--nor have I since then--muscles like his. I’ve often compared my awkward movements to those of Uncle Piper. He had green eyes and the darkest set of eyelashes. Uncle Piper was the oldest and he had graying, sandy blond hair.

He had enormous hands that made me feel so tiny in comparison and he always wore black boots—always. I sometimes wished he were my dad. On one of his visits, he told my mother she was the most awful person he’d ever met. I found a sick satisfaction in that—someone had finally told her the truth.

Uncle Ronnie had one son, Benny, born to an Asian woman he’d met in Vegas. She moved in with him and moved out again just as fast. Benny was around my age. I met him once¸ but never saw him again.

Uncle Piper had two daughters: Tiger Jade and Maxton. They were beautiful, fair-skinned girls with a sprinkle of freckles across their cheeks.

Maxton and Tiger came around some when I was younger. They took me out for ice cream a couple times. Yeah, they were good people.

Aunt Wanda was the only one in the family who never wanted kids. She’d had too many abortions to count, as well as several miscarriages. She wasn’t the motherly type anyway.

Remembering where I came from reminded me where I was. As I sat on the edge of the bed watching Mason, I wondered if he was the one person I could count on. Maybe he was everything that was good and right. Maybe he was what it felt like to feel wanted and needed. To feel relied on.

I wasn’t sure I knew what love was, but maybe it was whatever I wanted it to be.

“Renee’s a nice girl. She seems nice anyway,” I offered with a shrug.

Mason pulled his shirt over his head and shook his hair back in place. He stared at me, obviously not understanding what I meant.

“I don’t know. I never pegged her for a druggie though,” Mason said.

“She’s really pretty, too,” I said. I watched him carefully, gauging his reaction. Nothing.

“She’s okay. I don’t like short hair on girls.” He shrugged.

I nervously chewed on my thumbnail. It was hard to come out and ask what I wanted to know.

“Do you think you’ll see her again while we are here?” I looked at the floor, embarrassed. My heart was racing as I waited for his answer.

“Uh, I don’t think she’s interested in seeing me after I almost killed Shifty,” Mason chuckled at the thought of it.

“What if she wanted to see you again?” I carefully worked my shoes on my feet. I took extra-long tying them. I knew Mason was staring at me as if I were crazy for asking so many dumb questions. He knew me, and when I asked a lot of questions, I wasn’t to be ignored.

“You’re mad at me for sleeping with her,” he said, in more a statement than a question. He sat down on the bed next to me and rubbed his forehead.

“I didn’t say that, I just…” I trailed off, out of words.