Getting a Ride
Heather Dorn
for a while
it was easy
to hitch a ride home
with Matt and his mom
he shared my locker
but he had no
floor or shelf, only
one hook
to balance his books
it was a fair trade
we would laugh
in the backseat
about Rosencrantz
& Guildenstern Are Dead
and pretend to flip
a coin
“heads...heads...heads...”
but one day
I started having
play practice
and quit going
home at three o’clock
I caught a ride
with my friend
Kortney, who had
a convertible
and smoked Marlboro Lights
as we pulled out
of the parking lot
she never offered me
one, I didn’t smoke, but
she didn’t know that
one day
as I watched her puff,
tossing her sun-baked hair
over her tan shoulder
I caught a look,
a mixture of boredom,
obligation and pity
and I decided
not to ask her again
and she never offered
for a few days
the drama teacher shuttled
me home, but
not wanting to see
that look in her eyes
I started saying I didn’t
need a ride
and I walked the long way
so nobody would see me
cutting through fields
of dirt and mosquitoes
grasshoppers and feral flowers
I decided
I would rather walk
from now on
