…she is jolted awake when she falls into a huge, beautiful bedroom. There are framed posters of *NSYNC

and Sheryl Crow on the walls. At a desk sits Melinda, doodling on the edge of her notebook. Janie tries to blink herself out of the room. She feels herself sit up in the sleeping bag, but her motions don’t affect what she sees. She lies back down, resigned to watch.

Melinda is drawing hearts. Janie walks toward her. She says, “Melinda,” but no sound comes out. When someone knocks on the bedroom window, Melinda looks over and smiles. “Help me open this window, will you?”

Janie stares at Melinda. Melinda stares back, then points to the window with a jerk of her head. Janie, feeling compelled, stumbles over to the window next to Melinda and they open it. Carrie climbs in.

She is naked from the waist up.

And has breasts the size of watermelons.

The breasts sway from side to side when Carrie scrambles over the sill. She walks through Janie and stands shyly in front of Melinda.

Janie tries to turn away, but she can’t. She waves a hand in front of Carrie’s face, but Carrie doesn’t respond. Melinda winks at Janie and folds Carrie into her arms. They embrace and kiss. Janie rolls her eyes, and suddenly all three are back in Ms. Parchelli’s civics classroom. Once again, Melinda is embracing someone in the aisle. It’s Carrie. She leads Carrie to the front of the room. Janie can see that no one else in the class gives an ounce of notice to the naked Carrie and her enormous breasts.

Janie sits up in her sleeping bag again and shakes her head wildly. She feels the ends of her braids slap the sides of her cheeks, but she is unable to remove herself from the classroom. She is forced not only to be there, but also to watch.

Melinda glides to the supply closet and leads Carrie in there with her. Janie, against her wishes, follows. Melinda closes the door once Carrie and Janie are inside, and Melinda starts kissing Carrie on the lips again.

Janie lunges in her sleeping bag blindly.

Kicks Melinda, hard.

And Janie is back in Carrie’s living room.

Melinda sits up, hair disheveled, and scrambles around to look at Janie. “What the hell did you do that for?” Melinda is furious.

Feigning sleep, Janie peers out of one eye. “Sorry,” she mumbles. “There was a spider crawling over your sleeping bag. I saved your life.”

“What?!”

“Never mind, he’s gone.”

“Oh, great. Like I’m gonna get back to sleep now.”

Janie grins in the darkness. It’s 5:51 a.m.

7:45 a.m.

Something nudges Janie’s legs. She opens her eyes, wondering where she is. It’s pitch dark. Carrie turns the sleeping bag flap off Janie’s head. “Wake up, sleepyhead.” The sunlight is blinding.

“Mmph,” Janie grunts. Slowly she sits up.

Carrie is balancing on her haunches, eyeing her, one brow raised. Janie remembers. Does Carrie?

“Did you sleep well?” Carrie asks.

Janie’s stomach twists. “Um…yeah.” She gauges Carrie’s reaction. “Did you?”

Carrie smiles. “Like a baby. Even on this hard floor.”

“Ah, hmm. Well, that’s great.” Janie scrambles to her feet and untwists from her nightgown. “Where’s Melinda?”

“She left about ten minutes ago. She was acting weird. Said she forgot she had a piano lesson at eight.”

Carrie snorts. “Duh.”

Janie laughs weakly. She’s starving. The two girls fix breakfast. Carrie doesn’t appear to remember her nightmare.

Janie can’t forget it.

As they munch on toast, Janie steals a glance at Carrie’s chest. Her breasts are the size of half an apple, each.

Janie goes home, falls into bed, thinking about the strange night. Wondering if this ever happens to anyone else. Knowing, deep down, it probably doesn’t.

She falls into a hard sleep until late afternoon.

Decides sleepovers are not for her.

They’ll never be for her.

June 7, 2004

Janie is sixteen. She buys her own clothing now. Often she buys food, too. The welfare check covers the rent and the booze, and not much else.

Two years ago, Janie started working a few hours after school and on the weekends at Heather Nursing Home. Now she works full-time for the summer.

The office staff and the other aides at Heather Home like Janie, especially during school holidays, because she’ll pick up anybody’s shifts, day or night, so they can take a last-minute sick day or vacation. Janie needs the money, and they know it.

She’s determined to go to college.

Five days a week or more, Janie puts on her hospital scrubs and takes a bus to the nursing home. She likes old people. They don’t sleep soundly.

Janie and Carrie are still friends and next-door neighbors. They spend a lot of time at Janie’s house, waiting for Janie’s mother to pass out in her bedroom before they watch movies and talk about boys. They talk about other things too, like why Carrie’s father is so angry all the time, and why Carrie’s mother doesn’t like company. Mostly, Janie thinks, it’s just because they’re grouchy people. Plain and simple. Whenever Carrie asks if she can have Janie sleep over, her mother says, “You just had a sleepover on your birthday.” Carrie doesn’t bother to remind her that that was four years ago. Janie thinks about Carson and wonders if Carrie really is an only child. But Carrie doesn’t seem to talk about anything with sharp edges. Maybe she’s afraid they might poke into her and then she’d burst.