Brielle cried for a few more minutes, face buried in her hands, while Kyzie rubbed her back with her hand.
“What did that shyskie punk do?” asked Kyzie, her voice hard. She flushed the toilet and handed Brielle a wash cloth
Brielle shook her head.
“Are you pregnant?” asked Kyzie, horror in her voice. Brielle checked in between sobs.
“Of course not,” said Brielle, equally horrified. “I’m a virgin.” She rolled her swollen eyes at her sister. She took the wash cloth and wiped her face.
“I had to ask,” said Kyzie. “You know mommy is going to see that you’ve been crying and ask what happened. I was making sure it wasn’t something that I needed to take cover for.”
Despite herself, Brielle burst out laughing.
“You’re so insensitive,” said Brielle. She wiped her eyes on the towel.
“How am I supposed to be properly sympathetic if I don’t know what’s going on?” asked Kyzie.
“Oh,” said Brielle. She shrugged her shoulders, as if to say she didn’t really know what was going on, either.
“So, what happened?” asked Kyzie.
“Damon doesn’t want me to be his girl anymore,” said Brielle, brokenly. Kyzie took the towel out of her hand and turned the faucet on. She let cold water run over the towel and then squeezed out the excess water before she held it out to Brielle.
“What?” asked Kyzie. “Please! He’s sick in love with you.”
“He said he couldn’t be with me anymore,” said Brielle.
“Did he say why?”
Brielle shook her head and burst into tears again.
“Wash your face,” said Kyzie. She wanted to say something scathing but didn’t because Brielle looked so broken hearted. Instead she opted for, “You’re better off without that boy. You’re too good for him anyway.”
Brielle slid to the floor and sat with her back against the cabinet. Kyzie sat down on the commode and looked at her sister helplessly. Neither one of them said anything else.
They both heard footfalls on the stairs and the hallway. The feet halted outside of Brielle’s door. A tentative knock sounded. Brielle got up off the floor, walked back into her room and collapsed face down into her pillows.
“Come in,” said Kyzie, following her sister out of the bathroom. She stood looking down at Brielle in confusion. Sammie burst through the door, chest heaving, looking terrified.
“I got here as soon as I could,” said Sammie, out of breath. “Your mom let me in. I thought somebody died, except that she looked like there was nothing going on. What’s up?” Brielle didn’t answer.
“Damon broke up with Brielle,” said Kyzie, baldly.
“Sammie’s beautiful eyes widened as big as silver dollars.
“What?” said Sammie. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” said Brielle, her voice muffled by the purple cotton covered pillows. Brielle lifted her face out of the pillow. “But it has something to do with Sasha Anderson.”
“No way,” said Sammie, palm on her chest. “He cannot stand her. It must be something else.” Brielle sat up.
“I asked him,” said Brielle. “I asked him to tell me that it had nothing to do with Sasha and he said he couldn’t tell me that.” She sat up on the bed.
“Oh, no,” said Sammie, throwing her arms around Brielle’s shoulders. “That dirty cheating sucker.”
“Scurvy knave,” said Kyzie, sitting down on Brielle’s other side.
“Rotten buzzard,” said Sammie.
“Stank monkey brain,” said Kyzie.
They all laughed at that one. Between Sammie and Kyzie, Brielle felt a little better.
“You know,” said Sammie. “My brother Rory said that some of his friends at college break up with their girlfriends right before Christmas or their birthdays so they don’t have to buy them gifts. Then they get back together after everything is over.”
“That’s an awful thing to do,” said Kyzie. “No boy better ever do that to me. I’d kill him.”
“Damon wouldn’t do that,” said Brielle.
“You’re still defending him?” asked Kyzie, incredulously. “He called and broke up with you over the phone like a little punk and you’re still defending him. What are you, stupid?”
Brielle started to cry.
Sammie gave Kyzie a look of acute disapproval. “Kick a sister while she’s down, why don’t you,” she said to Kyzie.
Kyzie had the grace to look ashamed.
“I’m sorry, Bri,” she said. “I didn’t mean it. I hate seeing you all torn up over that dumb boy. When I see him I’m going to beat his ass.”
“You’ll have to jump him from behind,” said Sammie. “Since you weigh a buck oh five.”
“I plan to,” said Kyzie. “I’m going to smack his pretty face with a brick.”
“I’m okay,” said Brielle, sniffling and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “That is the last tear that I shed over Damon Hamilton.”
“You still have us, smookie-wookie,” said Sammie, making a comical face. Both she and Kyzie hugged Brielle hard. She washed her face a second time and was able to go down to dinner with the family. Her mother gave her a sharp look because of her subdued demeanor, but for once did not ask any questions. Brielle played with the food on her plate for a while.
“Brielle,” said her mother, when Brielle refused to eat dessert. Brielle loved sweets and tonight they were having apple pie, Brielle’s favorite. “What’s the matter?”
“I just don’t feel too well,” said Brielle.
“Do you want to talk?” her mother asked. Mr. Bronson looked at her sharply.
Brielle shook her head. Sammie and Kyzie looked worried but pretended to pay close attention to their dinners.
“Mom, can I talk about it later?” asked Brielle in a choked voice.
“Brielle,” began her father.
“Leave it until later,” said Mrs. Bronson, holding up her hand.
“May I be excused?”
Her mother got up and walked around the table. She put her palm on Brielle’s forehead.
“You don’t feel feverish,” she said. “What’s going on?”
Brielle could feel the tears start again, but she blinked them back determinedly. She wasn’t going to cry over Damon Hamilton, at least not in front of people, anymore.
“Please, mom,” said Brielle, desperate. “May I be excused?”
“Sure,” said her mom,
