Oh, what the hell. I step back and put my whole weight into a side kick to the groin. Jason screams. I turn and look at Clare, who is white under her makeup. Tears are running down Jason’s face. I wonder if he’s going to pass out. “Let’s go,” I say. Clare nods. We walk back to the car, subdued. I can hear Jason yelling at us. We climb in, Clare starts the car, turns, and rockets down the driveway and onto the street.

　I watch her drive. It’s beginning to rain. There’s a satisfied smile playing around the edges of her mouth. “Is that what you wanted?” I ask.

　“Yes,” says Clare. “That was perfect. Thank you.”

　“My pleasure.” I’m getting dizzy. “I think I’m almost gone.”

　Clare pulls onto a sidestreet. The rain is drumming on the car. It’s like riding through a car wash. “Kiss me,” she demands. I do, and then I’m gone.

　

　Monday, September 28, 1987 (Clare is 16)