Lavender, Juniper, Gunpowder, Smoke

by Alyson Grauer

They are always at my heels, this pack of girls who might as well be wolves. No matter how hard I try to ignore them, pretending they haven’t hurt my feelings, I can’t seem to shake them off. They stalk me in the hallways between classes, each girl smelling of plastic flowers, raspberry, and freshly applied nail polish. The scent chokes me in the school’s enclosed cinderblock halls. I miss the woods of home.

“Hick,” Marie’s voice whispers at my back.

I glance back to see Marie’s wide smile, her teeth white as the moon. Hannah, lean and narrow-boned, slouches beside her. (Continue Reading…)