Megan Gileza

But It Isn't As Bad As It Sounds

 

Around 2011 Mason and I break up.

 

Around 2014 I cry in church. My mom grabs my arm and says, “you shouldn’t take communion,” because I’m not sure about God. It’s Christmas Eve.

 

Around 2014 I don’t smoke so much.

 

Around 2000 Papa dies from a heart attack. Everyone cries, and I cry too because he was my favorite person to thumb wrestle. I am too young to really understand what death is.

 

Around 2011 my friends and I drive around, taking off articles of clothing when we spot cars with missing headlights.

 

Around 2014 Dad leaves the house in an ambulance because his chest felt funny. Before he left, my mom told him he would be fine. Once he’s gone, she sinks sobbing onto my shoulder. I try to tell her everything will be okay.

 

Around 2009 I go to a Metallica concert in St. Louis with Kelsey and my dad. Dad gives forty bucks to a homeless woman outside the Scotts Trade Center.

 

Around 2011 Alex kisses me on his driveway before I leave. He puts his lips on my head and tells me we’ll see each other soon. I nod, so I don’t cry. He holds me tighter because he knows I might.

 

Around 2014 Grandpa dies because he smoked a lot when he was younger. I still don’t really understand death, but it makes me want to be sure about God.

 

Around 2011 my pants fall down in my high school parking lot. Some kids stop to take pictures, but it isn’t as bad as it sounds.

 

Around 2010 Mason fucks a girl named Alex. He says he didn't, but he's a terrible liar.

 

Around 2011 we drink cherry Burnettes straight from the bottle—because we’re finally done with high school and because what the hell are we doing with our lives—blinking tears away as the stuff burns down our throats. We pass the handle back and forth until the sun comes up over the beach, and we’re too drunk to do anything but sleep for a while.