Authors: Bonnie Wheeler
The only thing now was Angela – she was like the stacks of paperwork at Staples where Marge worked before marrying Williston. The old wife needed to be filed away before Brian could begin anew.
That or put through the shredder.
“Mom,” Katie’s voice cut through her musings. “I’m talking to you.”
Marge gazed over at her daughter. It amazed her how similar the two looked. “Sorry.”
“I thought you were spending the night with Brian at Ho Jo’s,” Katie murmured.
“I decided to make him work for it a little longer.”
Wanting to give the teens their privacy, Marge inhaled one last time and passed the joint to her daughter. The pot tasted like burning straw, but the effect was marvelous. As she stood, her entire body felt much more relaxed. Her eyes darted to Tony’s boy, and gave an approving nod to Katie. He already had broad shoulders and a muscled chest. Coupled with his dark hair and blue eyes, he was going to be a good looking man.
It’s a shame Brian can’t stop over, but at least Katie’s having fun.
“I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow. Make sure you lock up before you go to bed.”
Closing the door behind her, Marge padded to her room. Only slightly bigger than Katie’s, she had just enough space for her queen size bed and two bureaus. Switching on her lava
lamp, Marge carefully removed each piece of jewelry, and placed them delicately in a ceramic dish.
Next to her bed, she kept a bottle of
Sauza
tequila. It never tasted good without salt and lemon, but she had grown to appreciate the smoothness at bedtime. Opening the bottle, she placed it to her lips and took a slow sip. The booze swirled across her tongue, settling her for a peaceful sleep.
As she pulled off her clothes and slipped under the faux fur covers, she imagined what Brian’s bedroom looked like. With Angela’s taste, it surely was drab. Out of all the times they snuck off to have sex, he had never once suggested they go back to his place.
Closing her eyes, she tried imagining what it would be like to unpack her things in his room. She imagined a four poster bed, maybe even the kind that was so high in the air she would need a little step stool to climb up on it. Of course, she’d purchase new sheets and a comforter. Partial to animal prints and satin, she’d want something to remind him each day that he no longer slept with a stiff.
Smiling, Marge’s thoughts began to drift off until all she could recall was the soft, pliable leather of Brian’s SUV.
1
5
KATIE
Thursday 9:45 PM
“You’re beautiful.” In small circles, Davey traced his finger around her naval. His touch tickled, causing the fine blonde hairs on her skin to rise.
Katie swatted his hand. “We’re not having sex tonight.”
Instead of getting offended, Davey laughed. “I didn’t expect to. Hoping yes, but not expecting it.”
“And why is that?” Rolling onto her stomach, she studied the boy on her bed. With his head propped up on one arm, his pretty blue eyes were glossy from the pot they smoked. His masculine body looked out of place in her all pink room.
“You always make me feel good Katie, but you never let me touch you back.” Reaching out, he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I could give you pleasure, too.”
“I don’t need it,” she replied simply. With agile movements, she glided to the edge of the bed.
Davey considered her, watching her hands as she straightened her bra. “I know you don’t, but that’s not really the point.”
“Really, and what’s the point Einstein?” She made sure she kept her voice playful, but she didn’t want to have this conversation.
“Some guys say they’ve tapped you and all, but I know they’re full of shit. You fool around a little, but you don’t go all the way.” He brushed his hand through his mocha colored hair. “I just want you to know that I don’t run my mouth about you. I’m into you and if you wanted, I would stop seeing other girls. We could be a couple.”
Katie knew what the kids at school thought. Especially the girls that acted so horrified when a teacher paired them together for classwork. They all thought she lost her virginity by the ninth grade, but they were wrong. She didn’t mind letting them think things.
I do what I want.
“Thanks Davey,” she said, suddenly feeling the awkwardness between them.
“I can’t help but wonder
why
though,” his face changed. Instead of the silly grin, he looked troubled.
“Why what?”
“Why you invite me over, act like you’ve missed me, only to make me leave once you’ve gotten me off. That’s what’s happening now, right? Just like last time. You want me to leave?”
“I guess so.” Katie yanked open a drawer, grabbing her favorite concert t-shirt. She slid it on, no longer wanting to show so much skin.
“Is it because your mom came home?” he continued. “Are you embarrassed that she caught us, because I didn’t get the impression she cared.”
Katie flinched. She didn’t want him to notice Marge. It sucked her mother was a bad parent.
He has to ruin this.
She didn’t appreciate his need for a confession regarding her motives. It wasn’t like she was proud of the person she was and offering him a self-deprecation smile wasn’t enough. Looking back at Davey, she found him waiting for an answer. With dough eyes, he stared unsurely, his mouth in a tense line.
“I don’t know, okay? I don’t have some amazing answer for you. I just get lonely sometimes. You didn’t have a
problem with it when I was jerking you off. It seems to me you got what you wanted.”
Davey didn’t pursue the issue. Standing up, he stared with disappointment around the room. The floor was covered in clothing. Despite him trying to be sweet, she lashed out and hurt him. She had forgotten how smitten he had become with her last August when she would meet him down by the lake for a little evening skinny dipping. A couple of make-out sessions and a blow job, and the boy
was
writing her sonnets.
Maybe calling Davey wasn’t the best idea.
Looking at his confused sadness, an ache spread through her middle. He made her feel and she didn’t like it.
“Take your clothes,” she said, pointing to the heap on the end of the bed. “You can dress in the living room. Then l
et yourself out.”
1
6
RACHEL
Thursday 9:50 PM
Jogging down the street, Rachel kept her backpack close to her body. When the sound of her father’s voice boomed that Katie’s mom was crazy, she climbed out her bedroom window onto the porch roof. Having crept out of the house a couple of times to steal a few more kisses from Jason before he went home for curfew, she knew where to step. But never before did she leave her property with a bag stuffed under her arm with a change of clothes and her babysitting money. Rachel wasn’t sure what her plans were, but she knew she had to get the hell away from her parents.
Pulling her parka tightly around her, the darkness propelled her forward. Trying not to be seen as she darted under the street lights, she hoped no one would take notice. As Rachel hurried down the sidewalk, her heart beat fiercely in her chest. Without the security of Jason’s hand to hold, the areas hidden in shadows left her feeling exposed. She wanted to put home behind her. She was done being a pastor’s kid – done living with their hypocrisy.
Jason was uneasy with her choice of running away, but she texted him as she went. It was her hope that he could hide her for the night. Tomorrow, she would find someplace else. She had enough cash to pay for a motel room for a couple of days, maybe the Howard Johnsons by the highway. Jason would be able to come see her and maybe she could beg her school counselor for help.
Swallowing back her pain, her throat ached as she ran. With only a moment of guilt because her parents had raised her conditioned to feel that way, she resolved herself to get a lawyer and file for emancipation. There weren’t any avenues Rachel would refuse until freedom was hers.
My parents don’t give a damn. Why should I return the favor?
As she approached Jason’s house, she could see him standing in the grass. The outside light wasn’t on, but the moon cast enough glow for her to make out his lanky build.
I was afraid he’d change his mind.
His parent’s owned a large colonial. She had spent time in the barn attached to it. Jason had his “crash pad” in the loft. As long as they didn’t drink or light matches, his parents let him use the area. Jason’s friends were envious of the mini
fridge and Xbox 360. Rachel wasn’t big on playing, but she enjoyed watching them from a corner of the couch.
Jason ran up the driveway. Enfolding her into his arms, the smell of his leather jacket melded with the natural avocado soap his mother made from scratch. She liked the way her frame fit his embrace; her face rested against his chest. Unaware of the cold until his body pressed against hers, he warmed her with his nearness.
“I had to leave,” Rachel whispered, her voice strained.
“I know,” he murmured, stroking her back. “Tomorrow we can figure out what to do.”
“Are your parents awake?” Stepping back, Rachel studied her boyfriend. With his crooked smile missing, he looked much older than eighteen.
He looks like his father.
Leading her to the side entrance of the barn, Jason opened the door and motioned for her to step through the darkened entrance. “They were almost asleep when your parents called…”
Rachel froze.
They can’t know I’m here
.
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “I told them we haven’t talked since I left your house. That was good enough for them.”
Taking her hand, Jason led her to the stairs at the back. They didn’t keep animals in the space, just yard tools, his dad’s riding mower and Jason’s dirt bike. She kind of liked the mixture of smells: motor oil and the cord of wood that was already chopped and stacked for winter. There was nothing about his house she found unpleasant.
Stepping into the small room, Rachel made her way through the darkness to the blue and red plaid couch. As she sat down, the cushion’s familiar lumps and stale odors of greasy pizza comforted her.
“Can you stay in here with me tonight?” she asked. She wasn’t afraid of the dark and knew they would need to keep quiet; but she didn’t want to be alone.