I met Louise Wallace when fucking Richard Lincoln tried to kick my teeth in.

It was a hot summer, and they'd cancelled public summer camp again for the third year in a row. I was thirteen years old. Not old enough to get a job yet, too old to hang around home and not get told off for it. Richard and Toby and Donny and me stole some shit from the Bullseye and ran off to a nearby park to see what we got and screw around.

Fireworks (the boring kind), some inflatable balls, some food. We didn't steal a pump. Ended up sitting around trying to blow the stupid things up by hand (mouth, really) as we chewed shitty candies and snapping noisemakers at each other. Normal shit. We got a soccer ball mostly inflated, kicked it around a bit. Then I slipped, fell on it and popped the stupid thing. Donny and Toby started laughing, but Richard. Richard was pissed.

"What good is taking crap if you're just gonna break it, you dumb piece of shit?" was more or less his sentiment at the time. Told him the truth: wasn't my fault, wet patch of grass, and maybe it wouldn't pop if you weren't such a weak loser who couldn't inflate a damn ball. He ended up on top of me as Donny and Toby stood around chanting "go! go! go!" whipping noisemakers at us.

I don't remember what happened next. I do remember this clearly: Louise Wallace standing over me as Richard lay howling on the ground. Younger kid, ten years old, wiry girl. Tomboy. Richard had to go to the hospital with the way she hit him. She didn't pay him much mind as she helped me off the ground. I mumbled thanks, because what else am I supposed to say to be saved by a girl. All she did was roll her eyes.

"Don't be a fucking idiot, dude. Learn to shut your mouth."

And those were the first words your mother ever said to me.

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