Orphea Proud Read Online Free

what I mean?
    Around that time, Lissa and I began to hang out at the diner where Icky and Marilyn worked. They had an open mike every Friday night. Lissa’s mother had to talk a blue streak to convince Rupert and Ruby that it was okay for me to go. We were the youngest there, since it was mainly a high school crowd. Lissa’s mom told Ruby it would be educational. That’s what won her over. She also promised to pick us up and drive me home. Silly, really, since I lived walking distance from the place. But those were the conditions. Rupert evensaid that I could stay out beyond my eight o’clock curfew, since the open mike didn’t begin until nine.
    Lissa and I had been coming for about three weeks when I decided to bring something to read. But it was hard to find the nerve to go up to the mike. That night we’d heard a poem about food, a poem about fat, and one about sex and politics. The puny poem that I’d brought couldn’t compete. Compared to the fast talkers up at the mike, I might as well have not had a tongue.
    “When are you going to read?” Lissa kept nagging. I’d ordered a burger from Icky at the grill, and she’d ordered a tomato and cheddar cheese sandwich. That was in the days before she went vegan.
    “I changed my mind. I’m not going to read.”
    “You have to!” She was practically yelling. Icky glanced at me from the grill.
    “Put your name on the list, kiddo. Let’s hear what you’ve got.”
    “I can’t. My poem isn’t memorized.”
    “I’m signing up for you,” Lissa said, hopping off of her seat.
    “Don’t worry, honey,” Marilyn murmured, placing the burger in front of me. “These big kids won’t bite you.”
    I was sweating. If you’ve ever done open mike, you know it’s kind of like free fall. I was terrified—dry mouth, shaking legs, the whole bit. But when they called my name out, I somehow made it up there. My poem was in my pocket on a crumpled piece of paper. When I spoke into the mike, it started to squeak;come to think of it, maybe it was my voice that was squeaking.
    I have a friend
    Who likes to paint
    Works of nature
    Very quaint
    A leaf she spied upon the ground
    Became a fern-like lacy gown
    If I were naked, my request
    Would be that leaf upon my breast
    Tattooed, like an elf I’d dance
    Until discovered just by chance
    When I was finished, there was actually applause. I looked over at Lissa; she was beaming. Icky reached across and shook my hand when I got back to the counter.
    “Good job, kiddo.”
    “Thanks.”
    I grabbed Lissa’s hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
    “Are you okay?” she asked, once we were outside.
    “I guess. I didn’t get booed anyway.”
    “You sounded great. I can’t believe that your poem was about my painting.”
    “Why not?”
    “It’s just a silly little painting, Orphea.”
    “Well, it was just a silly little poem.”
    “My mom won’t be here for another ten minutes,” she said. “Want to go back inside?”
    “No, let’s wait out here.” It was a chilly fall night, but there was a silver moon in the sky. We sat down on the sidewalk, leaning our backs against the outside wall of the diner.
    “Look what I’ve got for us,” Lissa whispered, digging into the pocket of her jacket and producing a lighter.
    “What’s that for?”
    She reached into her other pocket and pulled out a half-smoked cigarette.
    I felt a twinge of jealousy. Lissa was so square, but somehow she always seemed to be a few steps ahead of me.
    “Wow, when did you pick that up?”
    She grinned. “Yesterday. I found it in my sister’s dresser drawer. I only smoked half and saved the rest for us.”
    She lit up and took a puff, then passed it over. I inhaled too deeply and coughed.
    “I’m not sure I could get into it.”
    “Me either,” she said, taking a drag. “But I figure, if you don’t try something once, how can you give it up?”
    “I guess …”
    The wind began to rise. We huddled closer.…

    She had gray eyes, gray the