serious. You should come over. My dad would love to see you. He asked me to ask you.”
“I’m busy.”
“I didn’t even say when.”
“It doesn’t matter. I can’t.”
“Listen, I know that it’s weird, but Lizzie—”
“It’s Liz.” I flip around to see if my mother noticed, but her eyes are still on her plate.
“Okay, Liz.”
“I can’t talk right now. I’m eating dinner.”
“Well, give me your number. I’ll text you later. Find a time when you’re not busy.”
“I don’t know.”
“Come on, Lizzie— Liz —we’re friends.”
We’re not friends, I think. We haven’t been for a long long time.
“Please?” he asks. “Come on.”
I glance at Mom, whose eyes are now locked on me like a viper’s. I rattle off my number just to get off the phone.
“Talk later.” I hang up before he can say another word.
“Who was that?” Mom asks immediately.
The lie comes out so cool and easy it scares me. “One of MacKenzie’s little brother’s friends. He wants to take me to the movies. He probably just needs a chaperone.” Dad laughs, always appreciative of a bad joke.
Mom doesn’t buy it. “So you said no?”
“Of course I said no. I don’t make a habit of going out with thirteen-year-olds.” I shove potatoes into my mouth and wait for the third degree to end.
“Then why’d you give him your number?”
I swallow and take a big gulp of water. “To get him off my back. Joey would’ve given it to him anyway. I’ll just ignore it.”
Dad shakes his head vehemently. “Let them down fast, Liz. No need to lead anyone on. Just rip off the Band-Aid.”
Mom looks to him and then back to me, and against all odds, she seems to buy it. “Your dad’s right,” she says. “Nothing wrong with saying no.”
W HEN I’ M FINALLY back in my room, I go straight to my trusty box.
The other night, I was afraid to look at the news clippings, but after his call, it’s like I crave them. My hands tremble as I lift off the lid. Jason’s hands, rough and strong, flash before my eyes, but I push the thought of them away. Nip it in the bud, Mom always says. Nip it in the bud.
I skip the photos on top, go straight to the clippings. Some of them are fresher, leaving inky black on my fingertips, but the one I want is almost two years old.
It’s folded three times over, neat little squares that unfurl easily, practically asking to be opened.
T EEN P LEADS G UILTY IN B ONNEVILLE A SSAULT C ASE
Bonneville resident Jason Sullivan pled guilty Monday morning to assault inflicting serious bodily injury in last spring’s attack on Sherman (Skip) Taylor at the victim’s home.
Sullivan was accused of intentionally acting to harm and disfigure his former friend. He was charged as a minor and was sentenced to 24 months in a juvenile detention facility, with parole at 18 months.
For the Taylors, who found their son permanently scarred after a teen fight turned brutal, the news was welcome respite after months of pain and rehabilitation. “This was a vicious and intentional attack,” the victim’s father, Alex Taylor, said over the phone. “We are relieved that justice has been served.”
Sullivan, 15, and Taylor, 17, were at the Taylors’ home on Myrtle Avenue in East Bonneville on the evening of May 13. When a disagreement erupted between the two boys, Sullivan allegedly punched, pushed, and held Taylor over a bonfire in the backyard.
Innis Taylor, 15, the victim’s brother, was at the home and would have acted as the prosecution’s primary witness, had the case gone to trial. Innis Taylor alleged that Sullivan forced his brother into the flames and pinned him there long enough for the victim’s face to catch fire, before fleeing the scene. The police apprehended Sullivan the next morning.
In a statement, Alex Taylor thanked his family, friends, and the community for their support.
“He’s not a bad boy,” Danny Sullivan, the assailant’s father, said of his son. “I don’t know how this
“I’m busy.”
“I didn’t even say when.”
“It doesn’t matter. I can’t.”
“Listen, I know that it’s weird, but Lizzie—”
“It’s Liz.” I flip around to see if my mother noticed, but her eyes are still on her plate.
“Okay, Liz.”
“I can’t talk right now. I’m eating dinner.”
“Well, give me your number. I’ll text you later. Find a time when you’re not busy.”
“I don’t know.”
“Come on, Lizzie— Liz —we’re friends.”
We’re not friends, I think. We haven’t been for a long long time.
“Please?” he asks. “Come on.”
I glance at Mom, whose eyes are now locked on me like a viper’s. I rattle off my number just to get off the phone.
“Talk later.” I hang up before he can say another word.
“Who was that?” Mom asks immediately.
The lie comes out so cool and easy it scares me. “One of MacKenzie’s little brother’s friends. He wants to take me to the movies. He probably just needs a chaperone.” Dad laughs, always appreciative of a bad joke.
Mom doesn’t buy it. “So you said no?”
“Of course I said no. I don’t make a habit of going out with thirteen-year-olds.” I shove potatoes into my mouth and wait for the third degree to end.
“Then why’d you give him your number?”
I swallow and take a big gulp of water. “To get him off my back. Joey would’ve given it to him anyway. I’ll just ignore it.”
Dad shakes his head vehemently. “Let them down fast, Liz. No need to lead anyone on. Just rip off the Band-Aid.”
Mom looks to him and then back to me, and against all odds, she seems to buy it. “Your dad’s right,” she says. “Nothing wrong with saying no.”
W HEN I’ M FINALLY back in my room, I go straight to my trusty box.
The other night, I was afraid to look at the news clippings, but after his call, it’s like I crave them. My hands tremble as I lift off the lid. Jason’s hands, rough and strong, flash before my eyes, but I push the thought of them away. Nip it in the bud, Mom always says. Nip it in the bud.
I skip the photos on top, go straight to the clippings. Some of them are fresher, leaving inky black on my fingertips, but the one I want is almost two years old.
It’s folded three times over, neat little squares that unfurl easily, practically asking to be opened.
T EEN P LEADS G UILTY IN B ONNEVILLE A SSAULT C ASE
Bonneville resident Jason Sullivan pled guilty Monday morning to assault inflicting serious bodily injury in last spring’s attack on Sherman (Skip) Taylor at the victim’s home.
Sullivan was accused of intentionally acting to harm and disfigure his former friend. He was charged as a minor and was sentenced to 24 months in a juvenile detention facility, with parole at 18 months.
For the Taylors, who found their son permanently scarred after a teen fight turned brutal, the news was welcome respite after months of pain and rehabilitation. “This was a vicious and intentional attack,” the victim’s father, Alex Taylor, said over the phone. “We are relieved that justice has been served.”
Sullivan, 15, and Taylor, 17, were at the Taylors’ home on Myrtle Avenue in East Bonneville on the evening of May 13. When a disagreement erupted between the two boys, Sullivan allegedly punched, pushed, and held Taylor over a bonfire in the backyard.
Innis Taylor, 15, the victim’s brother, was at the home and would have acted as the prosecution’s primary witness, had the case gone to trial. Innis Taylor alleged that Sullivan forced his brother into the flames and pinned him there long enough for the victim’s face to catch fire, before fleeing the scene. The police apprehended Sullivan the next morning.
In a statement, Alex Taylor thanked his family, friends, and the community for their support.
“He’s not a bad boy,” Danny Sullivan, the assailant’s father, said of his son. “I don’t know how this
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