Our grandparents had given me ten dollars
as my late fourteenth birthday present;
my little sister and I made the mile-long treck down to the corner store.
"...even though we're not even supposed to be
doing long division in the second grade!
I don't know fractions that good
sorry, well, yet."
I stopped her stride to look over the bridge
into the green-black river.
The wind picked up.
Kira pulled her big hoodie tighter around herself.
I'd given it to her three months before
and she never seemed to take it off.
It was forty degrees on a cloudy day in Oregon,
the air full of
mists and fogs,
and she was bearing the weather
in an old hoodie and rubber boots.
I love Kira.
She's always been my favorite.
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