Every Ugly Word

by Aimee L. Salter

I’d always known Matt’s dad had a temper, but I learned what a monster he really was when we were fourteen. Matt had gotten in trouble for sassing his mom at the breakfast table, and when we got back to his house that afternoon, Matt’s entire comic book collection was gone. Mr. Gray had burned it.

“Because I was thirteen and stupid. Back then everyone was kind of in awe of the girls who slept with guys. I thought they’d think I was grown-up and cool, and then the whole thing would blow over. But they never let it go. Never.

“It concerns me, though, that you were willing to accept such a vaguely defined relationship. It says a lot about how you gauge your own value.” Yeah, yeah.

Anyone can fake in two dimensions.

I’d decided to keep fighting, keep searching for answers. Because as long as I did that, there would always be a chance my holes would heal. I could have hope. My gaps only became inevitable when I stopped believing they could be filled. Because that’s when I’d sit back and let life pile on the crap.