“Why’d you do that?” she whimpered, so frail and small and covered in shite. “I’m an asshole,” I informed her, shifting her pink schoolbag back onto my back as I tucked her in closer. “I fuck up a lot.” “Did you do it on purpose?” “What?” Her words threw me enough to cause me to halt. “No.” Twisting my body so I could look down at her face, I frowned and said, “I would never do that to you.” “You promise?” “Yeah,” I grunted, hitching her up with my arm and melding her body to my side. “I promise.” It was January. It was wet. It was cold. And for some strange, disconcerting reason, I was
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