Read Online Boulevard by Bill Guttentag - Free Book Online Page A

everything he said was right.
    Casey slept on the cold, wet, grass with one of Paul’s blankets wrapped tight around her. It was freezing and every fifteen minutes—sometimes less—she would wake up shivering. Each time she did, she caught another glimpse of the city and heard Paul’s words echoing in her head— the gates of hell . Finally, she fell asleep for good.
    Something soft and fuzzy tickled her nose, waking her. It also smelled good. Casey opened her eyes and had to smile. Paul was giving her a sugar mustache with a powdered doughnut. He also had two enormous cups of coffee.
    â€œYou called for room service?”
    â€œAwesome! Where’d you get it?”
    â€œThey’re building a house a couple of blocks away. A food truck comes for the construction guys.”
    She sat up and scarfed down the doughnut. A fog hung over the canyon, and through the mist she could hear faint voices of children as they were being dropped off at Wonderland. She sipped her coffee and knew she had survived. She’d been beaten, she’d been raped. She was sore all over. But she had survived. Yesterday, she never felt so weak, now she was stronger. A lot stronger. She was ready to put all of this behind her.
    As she laced her high-tops, she said, “If I just keep going downhill, I’ll end up in Hollywood, right?”
    â€œSure. But where are you going?”
    â€œHome.”
    â€œHome?”
    â€œI’m gonna find a phone and beg my mom to give me enough money for a ticket back.”
    â€œAnd you’re really gonna go back?”
    â€œI’m not staying here,” she said.
    â€œYou really sound like you mean it.”
    What was he saying?—she did mean it. “I’m gone,” she said.
    â€œSure you are.”
    â€œI am.”
    â€œSee ya.”
    Paul turned away and rolled up his blanket.
    â€œHey … thanks,” she said, “without you … I don’t know what would’ve happened to me. I way owe you. But I gotta go.”
    Casey started down the hill. Fast. Three huge steps, nearly running. Hollywood was close. A bus out of here had her name on it. By tomorrow this was all going to be just a fucked-up memory …
    She took another step, but this one was smaller. And the next step was still smaller. Back to Seattle?—that’s where she was so hot to get back to? …
    And instead of bolting down the hill, like she knew she would, she was standing still … What was back home? Her father who should be in jail? Her mother who would freak when she showed up again? Her mother’s shithead boyfriend who thought she was Satan? And even if someone—anyone—took her back, what was she gonna say to them?—I really proved how much I could take care of myself by running away and getting beaten and raped?
    They wouldn’t understand. How could they?
    Casey dropped onto the wet grass. Paul came down the hill and sat beside her.
    They sat in silence. Children’s voices floated up from Wonderland. Casey stared ahead—stupidly she knew—as if a plane was going to fly by with a banner telling her what to do with her life.
    â€œI feel the same way,” he said.
    â€œYou do?”
    â€œLess than a year ago, I was living in a farm town outside of St. Paul.”
    â€œWhat happened?”
    â€œWhat happened was, in my tiny, little town—population, two thousand, one hundred and twenty to be exact—I did everything right. Everything . In my sophomore year I was president of the student council, I was the starting end on the football team, and by far the leading scorer on our basketball team, which made my parents, especially my dad, who was this big jock himself, super-fucking-proud. And one day I came home from basketball practice and saw everything I owned thrown out onto the front lawn. My dad had found my journal—I guess I hadn’t hidden it very well—and he was upstairs in my