I don’t like iodine. It burns worse than the burn burns.
I flinch, skin quivering. I don’t like the iodine, but I do like that the Alligator Boy is taking care of me.
The girl Lily stands far back, watching. She’s always watching. She’s always standing back, staying away. Sometimes she shakes. I can hear her breath. It’s a slight whistle, quieter than the tiger trainer’s whistle. The girl has asthma. Bill had asthma, too, when the dust swirled or when he was in a place with summertime flowers.
I wonder if Lily will ever like me. And I wonder if I could maybe one day like the girl.
Probably not. I know that some friendships are just not meant to be.