Read Online You Don't Even Know Me by Sharon Flake - Free Book Online Page A

you.”
    A woman in a black halter and a guy in a suit ask Pops if he wants to go to the hospital. “We’ll call an ambulance, or take you ourselves.”
    â€œWe have to get sneakers.”
    â€œNo we don’t,” I say.
    He drinks more ice water. “Yeah, we do. I promised.”
    I don’t want them now. “Willie’s getting the same ones, the exact same color.”
    â€œYou gonna look better in yours,” he says, trying to stand.
    One man’s name is Neil. He bends down. He’s got a solution. “Let me drive you two up there. I’ll stick around. Drive you home, too.”
    I look at him. Pops does too. “My car . . .”
    His wife asks for our car keys. “I’ll follow my husband and we’ll get that home too. Just tell me where it is.”
    â€œI swear. I am so embarrassed.” He digs in his pocket for the keys. The ad falls out. “Gonna lose this weight. I swear. I promise.”
    The guy stands. So does his wife. They start to help Pops get up; I do too. Then three other guys walk over. “Need some help?”
    I always help my dad. But I can’t do it by myself, not today. “Sure,” I say, watching them help Pops to the car.
    He is wider than our washing machine and dryer put side by side. But his smile is even bigger than that when the people walking with us ask him about me. Everything hurts on him, I can tell. But he keeps his head up. And he winks at me when he tells them I made high honor roll last semester. “For the fifth year in a row.”
    I think about Willie. I think about all my friends and what they will say when we get home and they see strangers helping Pops into the house. But Pops is thinking about my sneakers. “They still got the red ones, right?”
    â€œRight.” I squeeze into the back of the car—a silver Mercedes 360 with a sunroof. I lean close to his head, listening to him breathe, once he gets in. “They’re the best sneakers in the store,” I tell him.
    â€œFor the best boy in the world,” he says.
    Willie would say I’m a wuss, a punk, or something worse, but I move even closer and kiss my dad on the side of his neck. I am not embarrassed. This is my father. I’m his son. And we’re doing alright, thank you very much.

Pimples
    Mom telling me I stink
    Girls saying I ain’t—
    Tall enough
    Fly enough
    That I can’t jump and shoot the ball high enough
    That’s me
    Stuck in puberty
    Shaving hairs I ain’t even got
    Waving at girls that say I better not tell nobody
that they know me
    Living in the shower
    Hiding magazines
    Staying up half the night looking at websites not meant for me
    Texting girls who never text me back
    Knowing I would never treat them like that
    Glasses on my nose
    Braces on my teeth
    Everyone complaining how I eat and eat and eat
    But who cares how unfair life can be?
    Stuck in puberty
    All alone
    Just me
and me.

My father leaves the office every day at ten p.m.
    My mother complains,
    But tomorrow he’ll do the same thing again.
    Walk in late,
    Kiss her on the face,
    Ask about my day,
    Pray over microwave chicken, asparagus sticks,
and mashed potatoes from a bag.
    Dag.
    You’d think he could do better than that.

Nov. 15
    SOME GUYS KEEP DIARIES. My brother TJ says only punks do. Well, I don’t have to keep hiding my diaries from people now. I’m done with ’em; for good. Done with everything, even waking up every day pretending like living is fun.
    Nov. 18
    I was gonna give Derrick my iPod, but he says it’s too old. He’s seven; everything is older than he is. Little brothers are a pain.
    Nov. 20
    I think I’m gonna to do it; on Christmas Day. Reynolds says absolutely not. I’ll ruin everyone’s Christmas forever. I know. But that’s my favorite holiday. I won’t be afraid if I do it then. The turkey will be in the oven, stuffed. The ham will be done and so