Loved In Pieces (21 page)

“Soon,” Manuel said. “We’re having fun. Have you ever seen Marie smile and laugh so much? It’s
been a long time
for me. Reminds me of when we played strip poker in
eighth
grade and she kicked all our butts. Remember how she gave us dish rags to cover our dicks and laughed hysterically at our embarrassment.”

“Damn,” Alan laughed. “We finagle a strip poker game so we can see her tits and she doesn’t even lose her hat! At least I got to see Kate’s.” He knew he had stepped over a line and backed off.
Alan looked at me ap
o
logetically and then let his thought wander as he checked me out. Manuel stepped in front of me.

“Dude!” Manuel objected.

“Hey, sorry…” Alan mumbled and then brightened his tone. “It sure taught me to never gamble with an American Indian actress
, even when she’s high on peyote
. Remember to invite me
to
your 21
st
birthday in Vegas, Marie. I can’t wait to see you wipe out the poker tables. I want to be there too when you win Celebrity Poker and the World Series of Poker. Then you should
donate your winnings to gambler’s anonymous. That’d be ironic.”

“Alan,
you’re
absolutely offensive.
My poker abilities have nothing to do with me being an American Indian.
”
I scolded and laughed, “
Vegas here we come. Put it on your calendar for
three
years from next month.”

I smiled. Manuel was right. I was having an amazing time. Maybe the desire I felt with Rex w
ould
never surface again in me because of how traumatic it was to feel it when I did. The situation was confusing
. T
he feelings I had were repulsive. They didn’t make sense in context. It was a rape scene for heaven’s sake and my body responded with arousal as if it was an intimate first kiss.

I kissed Man
uel again. Nope. No flame, but it
was nice.

“What’
s Alan on?” I asked Manuel.

“
He might be going back to pills because he’s mellow.
I saw him
and
his slut
go into a room at one of the parties he dragged me to.
She offered me
a choice of
ecstacy
,
coke
,
or meth
.
He turned pretty manic that night.”

“Have you done
drugs besides pot
?”

“I’m not interested in doing any drugs
.
You were there when
I tried
c
oke
at Alan’s sixteenth birthday party. You and Beth were the only ones who didn’t try it.
I haven’t gotten high since our strip poker days.
I
don’t like
the scene
and
work too hard to throw my money away on some short-term high.
You?”

“No
, booze
, Vicoden,
and pot were hard enough for me to quit
. I
’ve seen everything
, though.
It bothered me how everyone had a ritual about how they took their poison, especially when there were needles
involved.
Once,
everyone but me and another actress did heroin
at a dance club in London
.
That was a really bad night. She and I got out of there, took a cab back to
my hotel
,
and then met up with Blake to hang out.  He already had plans to visit some great party his friend had heard about. We got there and you just don’t want to know. It was some homosexual org
y
. He was so embarrassed that he brought us there.
” I pushed the thoughts out of my mind.

“You saw that stuff?”

“Yeah
,
haven’t you? Alan’s parties can become orgies
, maybe not with the sex and drugs so in-your-face as adult parties, but it’s there, too
.”

He continued, “
It took me a while to learn
that
in those back rooms it’s always the same set-up.
There’s
a nice, friendly guy on bed with his girl who always seems to have her shirt off. The guy encourages
Alan
to take a pill and touch his girl. I get the hell out of the room.
If I stay at the party, I usually end
up kissing some girl after having a few drinks, pushing her off me
when she tries something
, and then getting out of there
, feeling stupid that I wasted another night.
”
He laughed, “
I don’t like getting drunk, either. I was pretty traumatized seeing you get shit-faced all the time when you were sixteen.”

Manuel went to a party with me for my sixteenth birthday and saw that I couldn’t stop drinking.
That night
I
was high
, too,
and
kissed Alan
for a split second
to see if
Manuel
had even an ounce of desire for me. He didn’t show that he cared whatsoever. He was concerned with my drinking, though, and called
Dad
,
and
told
Mom
and his parents. I wouldn’t speak to him for
two months for ratting me out, especially since Dad made me go to rehab.

I dropped
the subject
, big time.
“So, my romantic mood for this dance is over.
But I had a really great time,
my man
. Thank you.” I
embraced Manuel
and closed my eyes, feeling sleepy and relaxed. “
Ready for Alan’s party?”

“Ya know I don’t want to go to his
stupid
party
.
” He kissed my neck and whispered,
“
Let’s g
o back to your house
and watch late night TV
.
”
He
continued to kiss me along my neck and back to my lips.

I gasped b
ut returned
his
kiss, stalling.
I
didn’t
know why my body didn’t respond to him like it should
. Perhaps that’s why I kissed Byron the night before.
Perhaps my guil
t
would subside after I showed Manuel that I loved him.
Perhaps Manuel needed to be my lover so that I could more easily resist men in the future.

I loved how he kissed me but knew it wasn’t enough for him.
I c
ouldn
’t lose
him
and
didn’t want him to give up on me
.
I needed his strength.
I
was
about to ruin my career for some hope that I w
ould
have a good life, grow old on some ranch in Montana, be happy with
him
, have kids
, see our grandkids have kids,
and live anonymously. I need
ed
my best friend
and
life mate
.
I
wasn’t
ready but
I’d have to do it to keep him mine.

Manuel took my face in his hands and looked down at me tenderly, “Marie,
relax. Trust me.
No sex
.”
He led me
off the dance floor
. “I left my backpack on your bed. I brought my shorts. You
can
change into your pajamas.
I collected some shows we can watch that
don’t criticize you or Evan. You’ll like seeing
Evan on Sam’s mom’s talk show from
my
iPad
. He was hilarious on SNL, too. I’ve got a clip of Renee going off, getting bleeped the whole time. O
kay?”

I laughed. “Yes. Sorry I got worried.
”

“Hey, will you meet some of my sports buddies
before we leave
? They might gush over yo
u and probably have your poster
in their bedrooms.
You might have to sign their chests.
”

“Sure.
How about one more slow dance, making out the whole time?”

I d
idn
’t know what time it
wa
s, but it
wa
s still dark outside. I ha
d
n’t found my travel alarm clock and iPhone dock from
the
things
my set assistant
packed
for me
and ha
d
been
using
my cell phone to know the time. My cell was in my bag with
the
unused swimsuit that was on the floor somewhere. I remembered that I needed to charge my phone.
A rush of adrenalin pulsed through my body when I heard Manuel breathe. I slowly rolled
from
my back
to
my side to look at him.
I held his hand, careful not to wake him, thrilled to feel his warmth.

I relaxed
—
completely
happy
—
comforted that Manuel
slept
next to me, breathing slowly and evenly. His strong chest was bare and only one leg was under the sheets. I saw the tattoo he recently
updated
on his shoulder, which didn’t quite hide Kate’s name. He only had the one ta
t
too and vowed that he w
ould
never get another, which surprised me because his parents
and sister
were inked.

He looked beautiful. I felt secure. I trusted
and loved
my boyfriend.

I quietly slipped out of bed. My head
pounded
,
as always.
I was nauseous, as always. I
tried not to
vomit,
especially
with Manuel there.
I turned on the faucet, hoping he wouldn’t hear.
He already thought I was bulimic. I thought so, too, because I
had
felt sick every morning since I
had
been fifteen.

I took two
pain killers
and looked for
the
medication that
my set assistant
packed somewhere. I took two prescription drugs, one to boost my immunity and the other to prevent ovarian cysts from bursting. I already missed two days. I couldn’t find the bottles but made a mental note to find them later t
hat day
.

I washed my face and brushed my teeth.
Prom was wonderful and Manuel being in my bed filled me with joy. We took a walk after we made out on the couch last night.
Manuel got out of bed twice, once to do push-ups. The other time I watched him from my bedroom window running in place on my outside terrace. I knew he wanted more. I didn’t want to lose him. I couldn’t lose him.
I decided that I was going to make love
and used a cream Elise gave me so it wouldn’t hurt
.
I turned off the light before I opened the bathroom door and quietly walked back to bed. It was brighter now, dawn.

“Hey,”
Manuel
smiled. He looked at my sleep shirt.
I
wore
a souvenir long-sleeved cotton sleep shirt I got in Bigfork, Montana. It had a sketch of a moose’s head with a glittery purple crown on her head. Each antler covered
one
of my breasts. It was cute. I thought Manuel would get a laugh.
“
You have a really nice rack. Perfect actually,” he s
ighed as I crawled back in bed.

He got up, stopped in the doorway to the bathroom, and asked,
“Marie, I thought you got over your bulimia.”

“
It’s just my bad luck that you’ve seen me puke twice in the last month.
I’ve wor
ked with Camille on it and
a
m still nauseous every morning. Honestly it seems ph
ysical, not mental. It’s
like the headaches.”
I thought my nausea was alcohol-induced until after rehab. Then I thought it was because I was worried about being called fat. I talked to Camille about it but it seemed physical and not emotional. Mom vomited just about every morning. I concluded that it was inherited.