Crank - 01 (15 page)

door.

Chase was “busy” Friday night. So I

    did a really intelligent thing.

Called Brendan for a date and

asked

him to make a buy. “Can you get me an

    eight ball?” I figured an eighth

of an ounce would last awhile. It cost

me

$250, which I was saving to buy my

    first car. But hey, I probably

wouldn’t have my license

for

years. Illicit fun settled upon, I put on

    my most innocent face and went

to gift my family with half-hearted

company.

I Could Hardly Wait for Friday

Though the voice of my virginity nagged,

the lure of the monster was stronger.

Besides, I could always say “no.”

Couldn’t I?

Pretending to be the perfect gentleman,

Brendan arrived at my door,

introduced himself politely.

We told my mom and Scott we were

going to dinner and a drive-in double feature.

But food and movies were the last

things on our minds.

Not that we necessarily had the same

things on our minds. As we drove up the

mountain, his hand crept up my leg.

I let it do exactly that as I watched for a safe

spot to pull over. We drove back off the highway,

deep into a grove of fresh-scented evergreens.

Carried a blanket back into the trees.

He pulled out a bindle, which looked a bit short,

and a six-pack of beer. For the next twenty minutes,

we snorted and drank, climbing to a very tall buzz.

We talked and joked and giggled.

And it all seemed just like it should.

Until it didn’t anymore.

It Started with a Kiss

Crank-revved, pistons firing full bore,

passion firecrackered in tiny bursts

from thigh to belly button.

Oh, baby,

I want you so bad

“B-b-bad to the bone?” We laughed,

but it wasn’t a joke. Not for long.

My shirt tore open. “Wait.”

I’ve waited for weeks.

Put up and shut up.

Kisses segued to bites. Bruises.

Pain rippled through my body.

“Brendan, please stop.”

No. You promised,

you damn little tease.

Off came my shorts. Down went

his zipper. I realized I was in

serious trouble. “I’ll scream.”

Go ahead. No one can hear

but skunks and coyotes.

Still, as I opened my mouth, his

hand slapped down over it. Those

muscles hardened.

Just relax.

You’ll love it.

My brand-new Victoria’s Secrets

shredded, and I felt the worst of

Brendan pause, savoring my terror.

They all love it.

Had he done it a different way, I

might have responded with excitement.

Instead, I froze as he pushed inside.

There it is.

Oh God. There it goes.

It went, all right, with an audible

tear. Pain mushroomed into agony

and all I could do was go stiff.

You weren’t lying,

you bitch!

I laid there, sobbing, as he worked

and sweated over me. Stoked by the

monster, it took him a long time to finish.

Give me a line,

I’ll give you an encore.

He pulled away, sticky and bloody.

Throbbing inside and out, I didn’t move,

didn’t dare look him in the eye.

What the hell

is the matter, Bree?

I stared up at the clouds, gathering

into gloom, shrouding the moon.

“My name is Kristina.”

But It Was Bree

Not a Blink of Remorse

Brendan didn’t say a word

most of the way home. He

drove slowly, just under the

limit. I watched him, out

of the corner of my eye.

He didn’t look so perfect

anymore. His nose had a

bump and his eyebrows

almost joined. And, of course,

I knew what he was made of.

Finally, he found a few words—

his thank you for the gift he had

stolen, the one I should have given

and never could again. I will

remember them forever:

If I’d have known

you’d just lay there,

I wouldn’t have bothered.

Have You Ever

had so much to say

that your mouth closed up tight,

struggling to harness the nuclear force

coalescing within your words?

Have you ever

had so many thoughts

churning inside that you didn’t

dare let them escape,

in case they blew you wide open?

Have you ever

been so angry that you

couldn’t look in the mirror

for fear of finding the face of evil

glaring back at you?

I stared at Brendan,

trying to find some words—

any words—to express

the terror of those minutes,

the horror of his violation,

the humiliation at his benediction.

But my mouth closed up tight

around the nuclear force

building inside,

thought after thought churning,

the evil in my core threatening

to eviscerate me.

Would you think it a mercy killing?

Brendan Pulled Up

at the foot of my driveway,

didn’t so much as glance my way

until I opened the door

and creaked to the curb.

Then he turned and tossed the

dwindled bindleat my feet.

You owe me $250.
        

Would you believe

I paid up?

I Stumbled up the Driveway

wanting desperately to shed

the lingering traces of eau de Brendan.

Even messed up, I realized

I couldn’t very well go inside and straight

into the shower.

Someone might wonder.

So I aimed for the hot tub, threw back

the cover, almost gagged on eau de chlorine.

But I didn’t care.

Steamy water bubbled around me, over me,

jetted inside me.

The monster laughed out loud.

Cleansed, chlorinated to the point of chemical

peel, sore muscles relieved,

I felt almost human again.

Tiptoe to my room, up a darkened hall,

past closed doors,

I wondered if I’d ever feel completely human again.

Exhausted

but too buzzed to sleep,

I pulled out some stationary:

Dearest Adam,

Always great to hear from you.

You’re a regular well of information.

Why isn’t any of it ever good?

If you happen to see my dad again,

tell him not to bother keeping in touch.

He’s a shit and I hope his new girlfriend

gives him herpes. Or worse.

How’s it going with Giselle?

(Were her parents on something

when they named her?) I’m sure she

gets high if you’re attracted to her.

Have you two done the dirty yet?

As for me, I’ve got two boyfriends.

One is too busy to keep me out

of trouble. The other just raped me.

I think it was rape, anyway.

Can you define the word for me?

Oops. I think I’m sounding bitter.

Better close now. I need to cry.

(Maybe you didn’t want to hear that.)

Love you, too, K … Bree

It Was Mean

So mean, it made me feel

better

but not quite good

enough

I could only think of one

way

to make things all

better

okay, so maybe it wasn’t

truly

the best way to climb

above

my mounting state of

depression

but it definitely did

the trick

in fact, I had to laugh, it

was

so simple. I

just

had to open the bindle

calling

me on behalf of

the monster

Close to Empty

We had tooted a lot,

but not an eight ball.

I began to suspect

Brendan had pilfered a bit.

Brendan a thief?

Almost unbelievable!

Conservation was the key

to seeing me through until

morning when I cuold

give Chase a call

Conservation, in fact,

might be the solution.

The solution to staying high

and still maintaining my way

through class work, homework,

and family dinners.

I knew I couldn’t

manage it straight.

Couldn’t manage not to sink

into a swamp of self-pity,

quicksand

for a fractured psyche.

Kristina crumbled.

I called for Bree.

Brain Waves

ping-ponging inside

my skull, no hope

of sleep or easy

egress

to a plane where memory

could not intrude, I bent my

head, submitting to

shame.

Why had I gone? What

had I done? Who would

want me now? How could I

deny

the state of my being or my

part in its disintegration? No

way to elude the bitter bite of

blame

I tried to lay the night’s

events on anyone but myself.

Couldn’t. I had tried to

play

Brendan, and he had turned

the tables. He was a grand

master player. I was new to

the game.

The Game Replayed

over and over

all night long,

like a cable TV horror flick.

I laid in bed, memorizing

every scene,

every line,

every plot twist.

Finally sunshine

trickled through

the blinds.

Dust danced in its beams.

The house filled with the everyday.

Footsteps.

Voices.

Coffee. Perfume.

Nothing new.

Nothing unusual.

Nothing, except me.

I whiffed a line of willpower.

Got up, got dressed in

ratty clothes.

Hair unbrushed,

ditto teeth,

I went into

the kitchen, poured

hot black brew

and lied about my date.

Answer Before They Ask

Great strategy. Mom didn’t even snarl

when I said I was too tired to go

to Jake’s soccer game.

Once I saw her tailpipe, I called Chase.

Thirty minutes later, he chugged up

the driveway. One look, he knew.

What’s the matter, Kristina?

“Too much fun last night. Come inside.”

My mom might have accepted the lie.

Chase knew better.

You’re buzzed. But there’s more.

So much for deceit, for accepting blame.

So much for never telling a soul.

I broke down like rotting rafters.

Tell me what happened.

I told him everything, start to finish,

in minute detail. He gathered me up,

glued me back together.

That bastard. I’ll kill him.

I shook my head, tossing tears and thin

streams of snot. “It was all my fault.”

Chase grabbed my shoulders.

No! Brendan knew what he was doing.

He pulled me so close it hurt, laid

his head against my heaving chest.

Then hard-ass Chase Wagner cried.

Oh, God, I’m sorry, Kristina.

I should have been there for you.

Stunned

I kissed his forehead,

licked away his tears.

He looked up

and his eyes told mine,

I love you, Kristina.

Eyes couldn’t lie.

Could they?

With sudden clarity,

I knew,

“I love you, too.”

Don’t say it

unless you mean it.

Did I mean it?

Brendan was no more

than a nightmare.

But, Giselle or no Giselle,

what about Adam?

You could snap

my heart in two.

I thought of the letter

in my room, the one

that had poured from me

only hours before.

If I mailed it …

It’s bending now.

I shifted