Hunger

Rory: Vanish

July 2013
Dallas, Texas

All of my senses absorb every single detail of this moment at once. The way the dry, hot summer wind whips my red hair around my face, making it stick to my shimmery lip gloss. The way he looks at me when the breeze claws its way up under my skirt and sends it poofing around my hips like a stiff ballet tutu. Why did I wear a skirt to a fair? Why did I wear a skirt, period? I guess I wanted to look pretty. I mean, it is sort of my first date. But I ended up just looking kind of dumb because I'm wearing tennis shoes with my skirt. That's because I refuse to reveal my mangled ballet toes to the world. Every ballerina knows the feet are off limits. No looky, no touchy. They are mere tools that should always remain invisible inside pretty pink satin shoes.

I'm fourteen years old with my heart pounding and my stomach flip-flopping each time the ride drops and my skirt goes up. I can't hold it down because I'm gripping the safety handles, the hot metal worn from so many hands doing the same thing. His name is Kyle, and he's looking at my crotch every time we plummet to the ground only to be rescued from certain death at the last second as the clanging machine shoots us back up into the sky.

Twenty-two tons of sparkly painted steel finally grind to a halt, and the sickening, spinning hell is over. I jump out of my seat as soon as the safety bar lifts.

"I am DONE with that ride!" I exclaim, but I'm not talking to Kyle.

I'm talking to my little brother, Seth. He's ten years old. My father forced me to take him along with us today because no one could watch him. I hate him so much right now. I usually love that kid. It's hard not to. He's adorable with these chubby, freckled cheeks he never grew out of and a pile of floppy brown hair that at the moment is sticking out from underneath a Pokémon baseball hat. He's sweet, not annoying like most little brothers, and I'm sort of his protector. See, he has this problem. He's bipolar. That, combined with a lack of impulse control, means he needs protecting. Mom is gone so I stepped in.

But right now none of that stuff matters because not only is he ruining my date but he's also forced us to ride the Rattlesnake Tail five times in a row. The first couple times were fun. Then I realized Kyle could see my underwear every time our bucket dipped and then my stomach got queasy and... then I hated my little brother.

"Oh come on, Rory! One more time!" Seth pleads with his hands clasped like he's praying.

When I shake my head he throws his arms around me, but I shove him away.

"No! We are done! Right, Kyle?" I say, glancing at my "date."

"I could really go for a lemonade or something," Kyle says. He shrugs, flipping his blond hair out of his eyes like all the cute boys do. I am so lucky to be on a date with him. All the girls in our middle school like him, and I figured he had forgotten about me since I've spent most of the last two months at a Summer Intensive in New York. But then he texted me out of the blue.

"See?" I say to Seth.

Seth crosses his arms over his chest and pouts. "I'll tell Dad!"

"Tell him what? We stopped riding so you could eat some food I'll buy you with my own money? Yeah. I'm sure he'll be real pissed considering he told me to make sure you ate and took your meds on time," I say, rolling my eyes.

"Rory, let me go on my own! Come on! I'm just bugging you! I could ride whatever I want and just leave you guys alone! PLEASE!" he begs.

I look at my little brother for a long time. I can hear my father's voice in my head. Don't let him out of your sight. Because Seth's not just some ordinary ten year old boy who'd be fine running around a carnival on his own. He needs someone to make sure he takes his meds. He needs someone to make sure he stays out of trouble. He needs someone to make sure no one takes advantage of his naivety or recklessness. He needs me, and I know it. But right now I don't care.

"Fine," I say, and I pull twenty dollars out of my skirt pocket, trying to ignore my father's voice.

Seth grins and takes it from me. "Thanks, Rory!" he says, starting to take off.

"Hey wait!" I shout.

Seth turns and looks back at me, a cloud of dust swirling around his feet like the road-runner in those cartoons.

"Meet by the Ferris Wheel in two hours. You'll have to ask someone for the time. It's four o'clock now. That means six on the dot!"

"I know how to tell time, Rory!" Seth says with a roll of his eyes.

"I mean it! Six! And make sure you don't ask any psychos for the time!" I call after him as he takes off running.

After we shake the kid, my date becomes an actual date. Kyle holds my hand. We share a huge frozen lemonade and a cotton candy. My stomach still feels like we're riding the Rattlesnake Tail, but this time in a good way. I think I'm in love for the first time. And what a bad time to fall! As soon as summer ends, I'm headed off to the School of American Ballet to achieve my lifelong dream of dancing with the New York City Ballet. I don't have time for love. I only have time to dance. I can only have one goal at a time. At the memory of finding out I got into the school, of being chosen out of two hundred girls, I get giddy with happiness and find myself unconsciously doing a few steps across the dusty ground as we walk.

Kyle laughs. "What are you doing?"

I stop, all the blood rushing to my face to create the horrific blush that only happens to gingers. "Sorry! Sometimes I don't realize I'm doing it."

"Doing what?"

"Prancing," I say, and we both start laughing.

After we finish our cotton candy and lemonade, Kyle grabs my waist and pulls me in for my first kiss. He tastes like sugar. Our lips are so sticky, and I use that fact as an excuse to kiss him longer. After that, I don't even dance subconsciously. I'm prancing around by choice, high on first love, first kiss, first date, sugar rush Happy. And Kyle's laughing, and it all feels so good with his hand in mine. I can let myself have this, I guess. I can allow it.

At six, we wait by the Ferris Wheel. And we kiss some more. And we dance some more. And we laugh. And we wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And wait

Wait

Wait

The sky darkens. I can't swallow past the lump of fear in my throat.

Wait

Wait

Wait

Anxiety
Sick
Panic.

Kyle and I split up to search for Seth. The glittering lights turn on all around me as the midway comes to life, the music pumping over the thrilled screams of people on rides. Cigarette smoke clouds the air and burns my lungs. The smell of greasy funnel cakes makes me nauseous. I run and run and run, frantically searching the crowd for his face. The Texas dust whirls around my legs, creating spots on my pale white shins.

"Se-TH!" I call.

The lump in my throat breaks his name in half, and I swallow hard to try again. My mouth is full of dust. "SETH! SETH! WHERE ARE YOU? PLEASE ANSWER ME!"

I run and search and bulldoze kids out of my way, praying I'll see his face somewhere in this crowd. The dust swirls, filling my mouth, filling my eyes. Tears make trails down my dirty face.

It's like a bomb has gone off inside me.

Everything is ashes.

Seth is gone.