Right after we finished our lasagna in the church hall at Mary Queen of Help, Mindy snagged a place in front of the bathroom mirror. She scrubbed her teeth with her index finger, trying to wipe away the garlic. I shimmied in between her and the paper towel dispenser, and dug around in my pocket for a toothpick. Beside Mindy, Bets the Bitch spread her elbows wide, her boobs filling the mirror. She spat into the sink, directly in front of us.

“Hoes,” Bets growled, baring teeth in my direction. I picked at my incisors, ignoring her. Some people seem to hate on sight. Mindy planted her hips against the counter so Bets wouldn’t be able to shove her sideways into me.

“Excuse me, Bets,” Mindy said, leaning forward. The applicator swept over her cheekbones leaving a trail of mauve. She swished it across her forehead, then over her cheekbones again.

“Here, Cherie.” She held the compact in my direction, but I never put on makeup or wore girly things.

“No thanks,” I said, flexing my bicep.

Mindy and I have known each other since junior high when we both dropped out and started shoplifting. We stayed on the same track, juvenile hall, then group homes. When we were together, we hung out, but then one of us would get released, get a new placement, or find a partner, and we wouldn’t see each other for a while. It didn’t surprise me to run into her again this evening in the free dinner line, but now we all needed to go. The volunteers gave us little bottles of shampoo and gently used coats like that took care of us. I heard the clack of tables folding in the hall.

Mindy pulled at her long curls, pursed her Tapatio red lips in the mirror, and caressed them with her tongue. She wrapped a pilled leopard skin coat around her shoulders. She looked hot. All she needed to do was hang out around the bars downtown and she’d get picked up. “You should come along,” she said to me. “Someone will be looking for a cutie lesbo like you.”

 I shook my head. “I’m waiting for Joy to get out of jail.”

It hadn’t occurred to me before that moment where to go after leaving the church, but the shopping center near the train station would probably be best. There remained time to panhandle the office workers leaving late. I’d rather ask for money than cheat on Joy.

“Fuck!” Bets yelled from the other side of the sink. She threw her cell phone down hard. “Battery’s dead,” she muttered. Her eyes were wild. “Gimme yours,” she said to Mindy. It was half a question, half an order. Mindy smiled like she meant to hand over the phone, but I knew her better. Instead, Mindy threw the compact at Bets, hitting her square in the forehead, and ran off. I swung at Bets hard. My knuckles stung as my fist struck her stupid wide jaw. “I’m going to fucking kill you,” Bets shouted.

I don’t usually run, but I did this time—back out into the hall, which I now found completely empty. I looked around for Mindy, thinking she would have waited for me, but she was gone. My mind went into autopilot and I ran, arms pumping, adrenaline carrying me, until I was several blocks from the church, certain I’d lost Bets.

********************

As I neared the train station, I realized I’d left my blue backpack behind. Inside were my wallet, the photo of my father in his Army uniform, and my Clipper card. It had been one of those days, and before that, one of those weeks—nothing going right. The voices shrieked in my head. Loser. Freak. The photo of Dad was all I had left of him. He’d never come back from Vietnam. As a Catholic, he always tried to get me to attend Mass with him. He believed in sacrifice and service. I wished he believed in not dying for that cause just as much.

I returned to the church and tried the sometimes-unlocked side door. Inside wouldn’t be a bad place to stay the night, even with Jesus cursing me for breaking in, but the door was locked. Not surprising. I wasn’t worthy enough to enter God’s house after the life I’d led.

I wasn’t hungry but I was empty. My eyes burned and I swiped away tears. I sat on a swing at the playground near the church, twisting the chain around and around. Back inside the church sat the windbreaker the church ladies gave me. They said it made my eyes look blue like the ocean. I shivered, wishing I’d followed Mindy, or that someone would pick me up so I could feel loved for a while. I searched my pockets for pills or cigarettes, but only found the broken toothpick.  Stupid, stupid, stupid. Fucking lowlife. I covered my ears.

Just take me, I prayed. Anything is better than this.

And then God answered.

I heard the screech of tires coming up the street and saw a huge SUV going way too fast for this neighborhood. Without a second thought, I sprang off the swing and dashed in front of it. The driver—a teenage boy by the looks of him—didn’t see me until the last second. The brakes squealed too late. I made the sign of the cross. Bless you for your help.

The impact threw me into the air and I landed somewhere up the street. I felt no pain. My mind flashed on Joy. Goodbye, love.

The last sound I heard was the SUV speeding away.