Lindsay Hunter - Ugly Girls

Church just didn’t intersect all that cleanly with her interests these days, was the thing.

“Dayna,” Charles said, “I forgot to make you some. This is all that’s left. The box is empty !” He handed it over, which was exactly what Baby Girl wanted him to do. When Charles ate too much sugar he crashed hard.

“Go get in the shower,” she told Charles. “Hurry up, ’cause I got to get in there after you.” She pointed at her hair with the cereal spoon. “My shit’s all kind of nappy.”

“You look beautiful,” Charles said. He worked his finger into a nostril. “You’re my sister!” He wiped his finger on the tablecloth.

“That’s fuckin’ gross, Charles,” Baby Girl said, but she was laughing. This new Charles had no shame. Walked out of his room naked, ate tubs and tubs of ice cream, loved giving high fives, told Baby Girl he loved her, she was beautiful. The old Charles wouldn’t be caught dead digging in his nose, wouldn’t be caught dead in basketball shorts, ate healthy, had tons of girls blowing his cell up day and night.

The old Charles also used to steal cars and deliver them to someplace or other to be stripped for parts, used to carry a gun. Baby Girl took the gun from him after he came home from the hospital, after he held it up asking, Is this real? It was in an old shoebox under her bed, wrapped in paper towels and duct taped.

Charles stood up, pulled off his shirt. “Do I have time for a bubble bath?” he asked.

“Hell no you don’t,” Baby Girl said. “You got time for a shower like I said .”

Charles kicked his chair over. This was another part of the new Charles. Whatever he was feeling, he made sure it was obvious. He had come at Baby Girl a few times, charging, but if you waited him out he usually calmed down or got distracted.

Baby Girl stared at the upturned chair, her eyebrows raised. Charles was breathing hard.

“Remember how you like the shower, ’cause it’s like that time you ran around in the rain?” Baby Girl asked.

“Oh,” Charles said. “Oh yeah!” He pulled his shorts down, ran to the bathroom, kicking them off as he went.

Baby Girl exhaled. She was gripping the spoon still, there was the bass in her heart again. Charles, if he wanted to, could do some damage.

But so the fuck could she. She took a bite of the Cheerios. Gagged. The only crunch left was from the sugar. She checked her phone again, and her heart thudded quick and heavy, because this time there was a text. How she’d missed it she didn’t know.

U online?

She ran to the desk, where Dave’s PC sat like an old car waiting to be scrapped. Took forever to boot up, took forever to get online. Baby Girl imagined Jamey waiting, drumming his fingers, jiggling his knee just like she did when she felt impatient, then giving up right as Baby Girl finally made it online.

But he hadn’t given up. She saw his name right there in her buddies list. Available.

Hey , she wrote.

Well hey urself

Baby Girl smiled, because it seemed like she’d been forgiven, and because it was such a strange thing to say. No boy she knew talked like that. Cheerful, playful. Flirty, maybe, if she let herself think that far.

Where u ben u usualy always online wen I wana talk

Baby Girl felt indignant, even though it was true, she was usually online these days, waiting for him. But he was acting like it was her fault they’d stopped talking.

She didn’t used to go online all that much, it felt vain and desperate. She’d even chosen the worst photo she had of herself: head so freshly shaved it gleamed, bottle in a brown bag, red-rimmed eyes. Mean eyes, as mean as she could make them. She remembered taking the photo. She’d just dropped Perry off and was ditching a car. From the front seat, snap, the photo was born. The green-and-blue blur behind her shoulder: a kid’s car seat. Abandoned stuffed elephant, stiff with drool. It was because of that elephant she ditched the car only a block from where they’d taken it, and it was because of that elephant that she felt such meanness.

So she looked ugly and mean in the picture, but it had worked. Perry and some cousins were her only “friends” on the site. Until a couple weeks ago, when Baby Girl felt bored enough to go online and see that Jamey had friended her.

Hey there

Im new in town, lookin for freinds. U seem cool

Baby Girl felt embarrassed for him. The “Hey there,” like he was some kind of grandpa. The typos. The “U.” It all felt like he was trying to come off too casual, like her friendship meant more to him than he was willing to let on. His picture was of the back of his head — probably meant he was all fucked up in the face. She saw that Perry was friends with him, but Perry would let anyone be her friend on that site. Baby Girl wrote back:

You don’t know shit bout shit, how you know if I’m cool?

Figured that would be that, better for him to find out that not everyone would just blindly accept him into their world. But within an hour he’d written back:

I like your hair

Did he really like her hair? Or was that his way of coming back at her? If he did like her hair, he might be someone worth knowing, someone who couldn’t be fooled all that easily. And if it was his way of being sarcastic, Baby Girl almost liked him better for it. She wrote:

You’re fuckin weird

Yeah I am , he’d responded. Hope thats okay by u

There’d be a message from him every time Baby Girl checked. It got to where she looked forward to going online and seeing what he’d say next. He asked for her number, something that no other boy had ever done, and Baby Girl gave it to him. He never called, just texted, always wanted to know where she was at, who she was with, what her and Perry were up to. Online one night he asked:

U ever ben with anyone?

Never mind, aint none of my bizness

But Baby Girl wanted to tell him. Wanted to say no, she’d never been with anyone, not all the way, didn’t even let herself think about it too hard. She’d watched the way boys looked at Perry, had even sat on the other side of doors and, once, outside her own car, waiting for Perry to get done with a few of them. Had glanced over and seen Perry’s leg, her toes flexing like she was trying to crack one of them, and that was a private horror to Baby Girl, worse, she felt strongly, than if she’d looked over and seen Perry naked, or moaning, or even stabbed. Wanted to say , I don’t even know if I’m attracted to you, you seem kind of simple and I haven’t seen your face, but if you’re asking me if I been with anyone so you can then ask me do I want to meet up and find out what it’s all about, I will tell you yes, I’m begging you to let me say yes .

But what she actually wrote was:

Haha, perv

What bout that freind your always with? he wrote. U think shes slutty rite?

Baby Girl’s heart had been pounding, she was halfway at the computer and halfway already in the car, driving toward him, feeling terrified and disgusted and ready for whatever. Was he fat, was he missing teeth, would he see her in person and shut the door? But him asking after Perry had put Baby Girl back, all the way, in her chair.

Why you askin about her? she wrote.

LOL, just makin small talk , he responded.

She’s no slut, watch what you say

I just thot I saw her around with a buncha differen guys, thats all

SO??? You a stalker? she wrote.

Then: LOL

Lately he’d been asking more about Perry, U with your freind? Shit, he probably had that pretyped and ready to send every time he didn’t see Baby Girl online. At first she felt kind of flattered, like he was checking in on her to make sure she wasn’t with no other boys, but now it felt like he wanted to know was she with Perry. They were having a conversation about music when he wrote,