My Cardboard Balcony

Out At School by Belinda Roddie She had her hair cut above her ears, a light fringe bouncing across her brow. She smiled and waved at the girls she passed, the sleeves of her new leather jacket rustling. Boys gave her high fives and fist bumps in the hall. They all had heard. They all knew. And they figured she was one of them - part of the pack, the gang, the motley crew, who knew how to woo a lady or two. As she walked to her desk, her English teacher smiled beneath a pixie cut of their own. Books were opened and characters analyzed, but newer stories were being told in raw, unhewn real time.

"Where the fuck is my truck?!" roared Chris, her cheeks red and her jaw cinched up tighter than a door hinge. She stood with her hands outstretched, staring at the space where her trusty automobile steed used to be. "I...I think they towed it, dude." Chris swore again, loudly. "I have a permit! I have a permit , for Christ's sake! Why does this always fucking happen?!"