A week after Grandma moved in, Mae talked with Lena about her home life, all the problems and how she was dealing with them. It was recess, and the two of them were near the open field where kids went to play soccer and football, hidden from the teachers by a small incline that led down to the fence surrounding the school.

When Mae finished talking, all Lena had to say was, “She’s a bitch. Plain and simple, she’s a bitch.”

“I guess,” Mae said, shrugging.

“There’s no ‘I guess’ about it. She’s treating your mom like shit.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s awful.”

“But what am I gonna do? She’s my grandma.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. My dad’s my dad, but that didn’t stop my mom from kicking him out. My brother’s my brother, but he’s still an asshole. I’m not afraid to say that to his face, either.”

“I know,” Mae said. Lena knew more curse words and insults than Mae ever thought existed. She wondered how Lena ever managed to learn all of them. In her house, whenever a movie was on where the people cursed too much, Mom or Dad would send her out, tell her she was too young to watch. Maybe Lena’s family didn’t do that.

“If you know,” Lena continued, “then you should be able to admit to yourself that your grandma’s a bitch.”

Mae shrugged. Lena groaned, grabbed her shoulder, and turned her so that they were facing each other. “Say it. Say your grandma’s a bitch.”

Mae tried to, but the words couldn’t escape. Her jaw was locked shut, trying to keep her from talking. Lena grabbed her hand and held it in front of her. Mae noticed a small bruise on the back of Lena’s hand.

“Come on, say it. The sooner you say it, the easier it’ll get. She’s a bitch.”

Mae took a deep breath. “She’s a… a bitch,” she said, practically spitting the last word out.

“She’s a fucking bitch.”

“She’s a… a fucking… bitch.”

Lena smiled. Somewhere, their teacher blew the whistle, and the two of them went back inside.