There came a day shortly after Maggie’s fourteenth birthday when she decided to have sex with a boy. Not that she loved the boy. It was a tactical move, and Seth was convenient. It was the other girls, the popular ones, that made her realize how important sex was.

Having sex, talking about sex, sharing secrets about the boys you had sex with, making fun of them and the nasty things they liked to do, giggling and rolling your eyes, all seemed necessary if she was to be accepted by the hippest girls of Belmar. Girls who didn’t have sex weren’t ‘in’ and could never expect to be ‘in’ even if they were pretty, had money, drove a nice car or had access to the best drugs.

Unfortunately, while Maggie was pretty and her mother was an opioid addict, her father sold grave plots and drove to work in a roached out Chrysler. Two out of four wasn’t bad; however it pained Maggie to have to admit she’d probably have to wait until she was married for the other two. Regardless, sex was do-able now, and something she could accomplish immediately to be considered ‘in’ with the cool crowd.

She and Seth did it the week before summer break in his van by the Belmar boardwalk during her lunch hour. Seth was a high school dropout who sold bait out of his van to vacationing fishermen hoping to land a big one. As cliché as it was to have sex with a boy in the back of a van, it was perfect because it gave Maggie a reason to roll her eyes when she told the other girls, something they could all snort and giggle and make fun of Seth about, therefore a valuable detail to be able to relate.

Later, Maggie remembered a story her mother had told her about having sex with a boy in a van while she was still in high school. Seth’s van was so old and rusty and creepy Maggie feared it might’ve been the same one. If true, that would’ve been gross, so Maggie made sure she didn’t mention it to the other girls when she told them about the sex she’d had with pimply, geeky, nervous, fish smelling, torn, gray underwear Seth.

“Do you plan on getting off me sometime today, Seth?” she asked when they were finished.

“Don’t you want to lay here a while?”

“Not really.”

“I love you, Maggie Vale.”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “You’re such a loser, Seth.”

***

Summer was a bland stream of repetition. One week rolled into the next, vacationers came and went, the tide rose and fell, dunes on the beach shifted. Maggie spent her days tanning on the beach or shopping in the boutiques up and down the boardwalk. She never wore any of the clothes or jewelry she bought. On the weekends she went out, got high and partied.

She didn’t have a boyfriend (most boys her age were too immature to even consider), and feared the popularity she had gained by having sex with Seth was waning, so she had sex with him again to make sure it stuck. Afterwards, she met her new, popular friends in the food court at the mall and repeated the stories about his stupidity, chubbiness, and bad hygiene. When they acted bored, she embellished.

“He couldn’t get it up, and I said, ‘Either make it happen, Seth, or I’m leaving.’”

The girls leaned over their gyros and soft drinks, blinking excitedly. “What’d he do?”

“He went to the bathroom and played with it until it got hard.”

The girls squealed. “Eww! Was it big?”

Maggie spread her thumb and forefinger an inch apart and held it in front of them.

They reared back in their chairs snorting. “Are you serious?”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “He’s such a loser.”

One girl named Chasity whose father owned car dealerships across Florida smirked. “My mother said there’s something wrong with Seth. That he got dropped on his head or something when he was born. Is that true, Maggie? Are you hooking up with a retard?”

The girls turned to Maggie, delighted. She took a sip of pink lemonade and swallowed hard. “I think that’s just a rumor.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Chasity said. “I don’t think it’s a rumor at all.”

***

She came home one afternoon to find her mother rummaging through her bureau drawers. She stood in the hallway, listening, before stepping into her bedroom. “What’re you doing in here, Mother?”

“Where’re my pills, you little bitch?”

Maggie looked confused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The hell you don’t. Where’d you hide them?” Her mother walked over to the bed, got down on her knees and shoved her and between the mattresses to feel.

Maggie’s face crumpled. “Why are you being so mean?”

“That crying routine doesn’t work on me like it does your father.” Her mother’s eyes darted about the room. “Where’d you put them?”

“Mommy, I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I need them pills, you damned little slut. Unless you want him finding out what you’ve been doing with that bait boy you better find them.” She walked out, slamming the door behind her.

Maggie plopped onto the bed, pulled out her cellphone and began texting.

***

Maggie’s father worked in a tiny stucco office on a backlot that had a sole, palm tree growing in one corner. A black, wrought iron fence encircled the place, and her father locked the gate each night before he went home. He was the only person that worked there. She went to see him one afternoon.

He frowned, digging in his pants pocket for his wallet. “What do you need it for?”

She shrugged. “You know, food and stuff.”

“There’s nothing to eat around the house?”

She shook her head solemnly.

“Has she mentioned me lately?”

“No, but the other day she accused me of taking her pills. She’s so mean.”

He handed her a twenty. “That’s all I can give you now. Did you?”

She took the bill from him. “Did I what?”

“Take her pills?”

“I don’t like the way she treats you, so I flushed them.”

He sighed. “I wish you wouldn’t do that, Button. That kind of stuff gets her all worked up, then I have to deal with it.”

She teared up. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I was only trying to help.”

He walked around the desk and put his arm around her. “I’m not mad. I just want us all to get along.” He bent down. “Okay?”

She nodded, her crumpled face changing to a smile. She walked across the office, opened the door and turned. “Don’t let her get to you, Daddy. You and I’ll be just fine.”

***

Seth called her on her cell phone one evening while she was lying on her bed listening to music on her earbuds. Her bedroom door was locked, and she refused to come out despite her mother’s pounding and ranting. She pretended not to hear.

“I’m busy, Seth. What do you want?”

“Do you want to come over and have sex with me?”

“What? Are you retarded?”

“We did before. Twice even.”

“So what?”

“I thought we loved each other.”

“I never said I loved you.”

“Then why-“

“It doesn’t matter why, Seth. You don’t just call a girl up and ask her if she wants to have sex. Are you stupid?”

“I got a hold of some OxyContin. I thought we could get together and have a nice time.”

“How many’d you get?”

“A handful.”

“How many’s a handful, moron?”

“Five or six.”

“I guess, but I’m sure as hell not coming to you. You need to get your butt over here and pick me up.”

***

Seth lived with his father in a dilapidated trailer on the beach on the outskirts of Belmar. It was scaly and dank, perched on cinder blocks and nestled amongst clumps of reed grass and sea oats, a disgusting place as far as Maggie was concerned.

It had two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen and a small living room. The living room had a couch, recliner, and a television on a table in one corner of the room. The whole place reeked of urine, stale water and cigarettes.

They sat on the couch in their underwear sipping orange flavored Vodka from plastic cups while they waited for the Oxys to kick in. The room was dark aside from the glow of the television, which was playing an ancient movie about some guy who had graduated from college and didn’t know what to do with his life. Seth had his arm around her.

Maggie forced herself to look at him. “Where’s your dad at?”

“In the bedroom.”

“He’s here now?”

Seth nodded.

“What the fuck, Seth? What if he comes out and finds us?”

Seth shook his head. “He won’t. He’s in bed.”

“He could get up.”

“He won’t. He has cancer. He’s dying.”

Maggie stared at him. “That’s all you have to say about it?”

Seth shrugged. “The doctor says there’s nothing I can do except feed him, help him use the bathroom and make sure he takes his medicine.”

Maggie frowned. She looked away, then back again. “What kind of medicine?”

“Stuff to make him comfortable. Pain pills and laxatives and antibiotics.”

“What kind of pain pills?”

“OxyContin, Hydrocodone, Codeine. Where do you think I got these?”

“And you didn’t tell me? What the hell is wrong with you, Seth?”

***

“You took my pills again, didn’t you?” Maggie’s mother said, looking at her from across the table as Maggie slurped her soup.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Maggie’s mother looked at her father. “She took my pills again.”

Maggie’s father sighed and laid his spoon on the table. “Did you take her pills again, Maggie?”

“No, Daddy. I told you I’d never do that again.”

“The hell you didn’t. I’m in pain, and I need them.”

“Tough shit,” Maggie said.

“God damn it.” Her mother stood, reached over and grabbed Maggie’s hair.

Maggie’s chair tipped over, and she kicked and screamed as her mother drug her across the table. Soup went everywhere.

“Get your ass back to your bedroom and find them pills!” her mother shouted.

Maggie’s father stood. “Come on, you two. Knock it off.”

Her mother pulled her off the table, and Maggie clunked onto the linoleum floor. She grabbed hold of the microwave cart as she slid past, and it rolled behind them squeaking merrily. It caught the lip of the living room carpet and tipped over, sending the microwave crashing to the floor.

Maggie’s mother released her and stared at the mess. “Now look at what you did! You’re going to pay for that, you little bitch!”

Maggie jumped to her feet. Tears filled her eyes. “The hell I am! It’s your fault! You pay for it!”

“We’ll see about that,” her mother said, stepping toward her.

Maggie swung before she thought. Her hand smacked her mother’s face, and her mother stumbled backwards. She grasped her cheek, staring at Maggie.

“You’re not my mother!” Maggie screamed. “You’re just some druggie who lives here! Daddy and I hate you!”

She turned and ran out of the house.

***

It was evening, and the boardwalk was filled with people Maggie didn’t know, old people and vacationers, strangers who made her feel uncomfortable. In the alleys and shadowy corners homeless people with ravaged faces hunkered down for the night. They wore soiled clothes pilfered from trash cans and dumpsters, pushed shopping carts full of useless items like hubcaps, cracked, plastic containers with no lids and leftover rolls of wallpaper. They all smelled like Seth’s home.

She couldn’t go to any of her friend’s homes, the popular girls, because they’d all look down on her. Poor, white trash Maggie, they’d think. Whose parents fought and whose mother was a drug addict. Who had to pedal a bicycle everywhere she went because her parents weren’t rich enough to buy her a car, never mind that she wasn’t old enough to drive yet.

They’d be nice to her face, might even let her stay the night, but later there’d be looks saying she was no longer one of them, smirks and laughter indicating they’d been talking about her behind her back, that judgement had been passed. There’d be repercussions. They’d no longer be interested in her, wouldn’t ask her about having sex with Seth, wouldn’t allow her to sit with them at the food court or hang out with them on the beach or boardwalk. She’d have no one, at least no one that mattered.

She arrived at his trailer before midnight. When he opened the door she burst out crying. He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her close, and she told him everything that had happened, that she had nowhere else to go.

He led her to his bedroom, got her a glass of water, and sat on the bed beside her. “I’m glad you came here, Mags,” he said. “It means a lot.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t make it something it’s not, Seth.”

She returned home the next day, and everyone acted like nothing had ever happened.

***

Several weeks later he called her on the phone. His voice was thick and heavy. “My Dad died,” he said.

“So? What am I supposed to do about it?”

“I’d like to see you if I could.”

“Why? I didn’t even know him.”

“But I told him about you. He always said he’d like meet you when he got better.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Are you serious? You won’t come see me?”

“I just told you. Besides, dead people gross me out.”

“It’s not like he’s still here, Maggie. They took him away this morning.”

“Oh. So what happened to all those drugs he had?”

***

Maggie’s father walked up to her one afternoon while she was tanning on the beach.

“Why aren’t you at work, Daddy?”

“I thought I’d come by and see if you wanted to go to Grainer for ice cream?”

“Why Grainer?” she asked. “Why not O’Toole’s on the boardwalk?”

“I thought the ride might be nice. It’ll give us a chance to talk.”

After he told her, they drove for miles in silence.

It was all so sudden, so unexpected, it scared her. Then she became annoyed. He was acting so hurt and sad. Why? She was the one who stood to lose the most. Her mother had made their life a living hell, been mean and hateful, and now he was acting as if not having her around anymore would be the worst thing in the world. What a wuss. She thought maybe she didn’t love him anymore.

She remembered all the times she’d wished this would happen. That her father would take her, his little Button, and they’d move away from Belmar together, to a place where they could start over again without her mother. Maybe he’d get a job that paid more and spend it all on her, so she could live the kind of life she’d always wanted, be the kind of person she was meant to be. Someone that truly mattered, that people cared about and loved.

Her father continued. “Sometimes no matter how hard two people try they just can’t make it work. We talked, and decided it’s best if we-“

“It’s okay, Daddy,” she said, looking out the window as the ocean and beach and trees and condos and stores and restaurants and golf courses rushed by. “I really don’t care.”

***

She called Seth from her bedroom that evening, then crawled out the window and walked to the corner to wait for him to pick her up. He came by in his van, and they went back to his place. They took several Oxys and sat on the stoop outside his trailer. It was late summer, a week before school was to start, and the air was cooler than usual. The planks of the stoop were soft and spongy.

“He told me they were getting a divorce, but didn’t say anything about me, not where I’d go, or what I was supposed to do. I hate them both.” She turned and looked at Seth. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

Seth looked pale and bloated, his glazed eyes scanning the cusps on the water. High tide was coming in. “I’m thirsty. Let’s go inside.”

She sat on the couch while he puttered around in the kitchen. “When are you going to clean this place, Seth? It stinks like shit.”

“I’ve been meaning to do that. Do you want ice, or are you going to drink it out of the can?”

“I want ice, stupid. You think I want to drink it hot?” She heard him open the freezer, heard the ice clinking into the glass. A drawer opened and closed.

“I don’t know why you treat me that way. Especially after everything I’ve done for you.”

“What have you done,” she said, “besides fuck me?”

“See? It’s like I can’t win no matter what I do.”

She laughed. “Welcome to my world.” She felt him walking up behind her.

“Here’s your Coke.”

She turned and frowned. There was no glass. Instead, he appeared to be saluting her, his fist raised in the air. Then she realized he wasn’t saluting her at all, he was holding something, a pencil or screwdriver. He plunged it down.

She felt the impact, heard her skin pop as it penetrated her neck. She grunted, pulled away and fell onto the floor. “Seth! What’re you doing?”

He looked at her sadly and began walking around the couch.

She gave a little yelp and leapt to her feet, jamming her toe on the screen door as she bolted from the trailer. She limped back and forth on the beach, screaming for help, unsure of who would hear, or where to go.

He stepped outside. “Where are you going, Mags? I haven’t fucked you yet.”

“Please don’t, Seth,” she whimpered.” She ran into the ocean, splashing through the surf until the water reached her waist. She could feel the warm blood on her neck, saw her T-shirt blossom red. The ice-pick protruded at an odd angle. She pulled it out, dropped it in the water and vomited.

He was on the beach now, and she turned and stared at the watery expanse behind her, shivering before plunging forward.

The Oxys coursed through her system as she swam, and soon she wasn’t as panicked as she knew she should be. It was like she was moving in a dream outside of herself, watching everything unfold.

“You can’t stay out there all night, Mags,” he called. “Come back, and I’ll help you.”

“Fuck you, retard!” she yelled, treading water. She felt a quick yank and was pulled under. The ocean sped past her as her limbs flailed. When she rose again she was twice as far from the shore as she had been.

She watched the pinkish water turn fluorescent green around her, could feel her leg pulsing. She reached to her knee, but nothing existed there, only jagged bone and warmth. There was no pain.

She was suddenly very tired, very weak, and believed she saw Seth waving at her from the shore. Lit by the halogen on the pole outside the trailer, he seemed far away. When she attempted to gauge the distance between them by spreading her thumb and forefinger an inch apart, he fit in the space between. She tried to swim, but her body listed, and she rolled onto her back. Infused with moonlight, the clouds floated in the sky like jellyfish.

It occurred to her to apologize to Seth for the way she’d acted, maybe even offer to be nice for a change. Her teeth chattered, and she giggled. As ridiculous as it sounded, she actually thought she might. What did she have to lose? There were far worse people she’d been nice to. An image came to mind of the two of them selling bait out of the back of his van while his father sat smiling in a beach chair yards away.

A long, narrow crest sped toward her, a shadow beneath the water. It rose until a pointed fin emerged, slicing the surface like a guillotine.

“Daddy?” she murmured, and then it was upon her.