Machete

by Nicole Thorn

  “I’m that mistake?” I asked.

  Mrs. Flannigan flinched. “I didn’t say that.”

  “You implied it,” I said. “Because my family isn’t as important as hers, and you didn’t mention mine. Only the Hodkin family. Do you think being seen with me will somehow hurt Manny more than having people constantly telling her she has to live up to something she doesn’t like?”

  “No need to get rude, Becket,” Mrs. Flannigan said.

  “I’m not being rude. I’m stating facts and asking questions,” I said. “Do you not have a good answer?”

  “Becket,” she warned.

  I sighed as the bell rang, gathering my things. “Perhaps what you perceive as right is nothing more than that. Perceptions. You don’t know either of us, and every time you make assumptions, you’re doing nothing but making matters worse.” Then I left because I could see a lecture brewing in her eyes.

  I was late to lunch because a line of people made everyone shuffle off to the side so they could bring decorations down the hall. It was all for the Valentine’s Day dance on Saturday. It was a lot of red and pink hearts. There were a few adornments on some of them, and others seemed to have fat babies on the corners. I never understood that aspect of Valentine’s.

  Watching all of the decorations being hauled down the hallway made me think. I’d never been to dances before. I never had a reason to go, and I honestly didn’t think my father would’ve let me go either. But people were supposed to dress up for dances, and I thought about seeing Manny dressed up. I thought about what she wore when we had gone out to dinner. The way it hugged her breasts, how the fabric had slid down her body.

  Her skin had been pale, and then it had been filled with color as my pen worked across it.

  Manny had two trays sitting on the table when I finally got to the cafeteria. She smiled up at me. “I thought I’d save you the trouble of going through the line.”

  “Thank you,” I said, sitting down. “Do you want to go to that dance on Saturday?”

  Manny lowered the carton of milk she’d been drinking from. “What?” The question was neutral but I still had to fight the urge to back out of answering. Manny would understand what I meant.

  She always did.

  “That dance. Would you like to go?”

  “Do you want to go?” she asked.

  “A little,” I admitted.

  “Why?” She asked it like the concept of a dance was so beyond her. It wasn’t a rejection, and I wouldn’t take it as such until she meant it like that.

  “I want to see you dressed up,” I said. “I like the way you look in dresses, and I like seeing your skin. If we go to the dance, then you have to dress up, right?”

  Manny smiled. “I can wear those clothes anywhere we go, Becket.”

  “You should,” I said. “But I still want to go to the dance.”

  “Why?”

  I thought for a second, really thought. Past the desire and the thought of her dressing up. I thought about it until I had everything figured out. “I want to be normal for a night,” I said. “It’s not that I mind being this but do you ever crave something easy? Do you ever want to pretend for a night that normal is a thing, and that you understand everything that you should?”

  Manny sat back in her chair and stared at me for several seconds. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

  I didn’t believe that, so I shrugged. “I want to do something normal, even if we can’t be. Just to see what it’s like. If we hate it, then we both know. If we like it, then perhaps we can pretend for the whole night.”

  Manny leaned over her tray, picking at food that didn’t look very appetizing. I did the same with mine. “Why do you want to go with me?” she asked.

  “Why would I want to go with anyone else?” I countered. “You are the only person in this building that I care about and that cares about me. I like spending time with you because I never have to explain myself beyond a few simple words. Like you understand exactly what I’m trying to say, or do, or be.”

  Manny smiled at me. “Okay. Let’s go to a dance.”

  My returning smile didn’t scare her away, and that was another reason that I liked her. She saw right through me, as if I were tissue paper that had gotten wet.

  After school, we bought the tickets. Well, Manny bought the tickets. The two girls who sat behind the table seemed concerned by my presence, so Manny insisted on taking care of it. She skipped back up to me, winding her arm through mine. “All right. I’ve got two overpriced tickets to a dance that I hadn’t thought twice about. Now, I just have to figure out what we’re wearing.”

  “Can you wear something that hugs your hips?” I asked.

  Manny looked up at me.

  “I like your hips,” I said.

  A grin pulled at her lips. “I’ll try.” She leaned her head against me as we left the school. My father wasn’t there today. He’d only been there two days ago because he hadn’t seen me in a while and wanted to talk. Normally, I had to walk home, whether he had clients or not.

  “Can I walk you home?” I asked.

  She peered up at me, her eyes shining. “Of course,” she said. “Or I can walk you home. Either way.”

  I opted for honesty, and said, “I have to get permission from my father to go out. No offense but think it’ll be better if you aren’t there.”

  She stopped dead in her tracks. We had gotten far enough away from the school that no one ran into us. “He’s not going to hurt you, is he?”

  “Dad doesn’t hurt me,” I told her. “I think it would be easier to convince him if you weren’t there.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked. “I don’t want to find out that he’s...” she trailed off, taking in a shaky breath. “You would tell me if something went wrong, wouldn’t you?” Her eyes locked onto mine, and I found myself unable to turn away from that gaze.

  “Of course, I would tell you,” I said. “Who else would listen?”

  She sighed, and took my hand. “All right. Walk me home.”

  We didn’t talk about much while we walked. She told me about a book on stars she had checked out of the library, and I gave her the picture that I’d drawn. She beamed at me and hugged it to her chest. Listening to her say that she loved it meant so much to me. I couldn’t express to her what it was to have someone care.

  The house was empty when we arrived, and Manny invited me in. She went into the kitchen to pour me something to drink, then skipped downstairs so that she could put her picture up. When she came back upstairs, she hugged me around the middle. “I’m glad that you were at school today. I didn’t like not having you there.”

  “I didn’t like not seeing you either.”

  “You’re important to me, Becket,” she said. The words were so quiet that I almost couldn’t hear them. Almost like they weren’t meant to be spoken aloud.

  I pulled back from Manny so that I could see her face. She stared up at me with such pale green eyes that they looked almost like a dream. There was no deceit in those eyes. They didn’t hold the fake doll emotions that her smile sometimes did. She meant what she said. I was important to her.

  Without letting go of her, I leaned down and pressed my mouth against Manny’s. The move surprised her, and she let out a little gasp. Her lips parted, giving me the chance to deepen the kiss.

  Her lips were like silk, and they glided against mine without hesitation. She balled up the fabric of my shirt, pulling me closer but our bodies couldn’t press together the way she wanted. Not with our height difference. So, I lifted her up by the hips and set her on the counter. Her legs wound around me. Because she wore a skirt, it was pushed up to her thighs when I pressed against her.

  I slid my tongue into her mouth, and she made a small moaning sound. Her hips pushed forward, right against me in a slow grinding motion. I left one hand cupping her cheek but I used the other to grip her hip, pulling her against me harder. She felt my reaction to her pressed between her legs, and another bre
athy sound left her mouth.

  I wanted nothing more than to continue. To keep her pressed against the counter, moving against her until she couldn’t handle it anymore. It wasn’t an option. With a few lingering kisses and another writhing movement that had both of us panting, I pulled away. Slowly, so that the last thing to separate was our mouths.

  Manny stared at me with eyes that had gone glassy. She swallowed hard and whispered, “Why did you stop?”

  “I have to get home,” I said. “Before my father wonders what I’m doing and gets upset.”

  Her eyes darkened but she nodded her head. “Okay. See you tomorrow.”

  I left her house, rushing home. I worried what my father would do if he thought I got into another fight. Only, when I walked in, he was still in his office with a client. I went upstairs to hide until they left, then wandered back down. Dad looked up when I knocked on the door.

  “Yes?” he asked.

  “There’s a dance on Saturday that Manny and I want to go to,” I said. “Is it all right if I take her?”

  Dad’s eyebrows popped up his forehead, and he leaned back. “A dance?”

  I nodded.

  “Do you think you’ll be able to control yourself around all those other students?” Dad asked.

  “Yes.”

  He swiveled back and forth in his chair for a few seconds, thinking. I saw some decision flash through his eyes, and then he nodded. “You can go but only on one condition.”

  “What?” I asked, though I already knew that I’d agree. A night with Manny was worth anything.

  “I want you to bring her back here when the dance is over,” Dad said. “I think the three of us should talk.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Safe

  Manny

  I stared down at my stomach and whispered, “Betrayer.”

  It had been all fluttery since Becket had kissed me yesterday. Every time I thought about him, it happened. I melted into goop and got all giggly. Like... the fuck? I didn’t consider myself an especially strong or normal person but did I really have to lose it when even a picture of him popped up in my head?

  Then I remembered how it felt to have him pressing between my legs. Yes. Yes, was the answer. I would be a Manny puddle, and that was my lot in life.

  More than a puddle, I was a dumb puddle. I’d gone to school today, thinking and hoping that Becket would try something again. Like maybe pull me into a closet for an impromptu groping, or whatever people did. I should have known better because Becket wasn’t really a ‘take a girl and make her yours’ kinda guy. Yesterday was probably the closest he could get. I didn’t mind it because any contact with him was welcomed.

  So, no messing around at school. The day was utterly normal for us. Lots of touching, hand holding, and he let me run my fingers up and down his arm during class. He didn’t even look like he wanted to kiss me. Why would he? Well... he did ask me to a dance, and he’d said he wanted me. And he almost put his hand between my legs. Kissed my chest when I was topless... and kissed my mouth, putting me on a counter... rubbing up against me...

  Oh, look... a burning sensation in a sensitive place.

  I was about to have an issue in the middle of a dress shop. It wasn’t my fault that Becket was lovely, and thinking about him was nearly enough to get me off all on its own. Mmm, it would be a lot better if Becket was the one...

  No, I was in a store. I could have dirty thoughts when I was in my room later. For now, I needed to pick a dress.

  I wanted a bright color, and something that would show off the new drawings I would be forcing him into putting on me. It would have been sad to go without.

  I stood in front of a mirror, looking at myself in a dress that hugged me tightly in places I hoped Becket would like. He said hips, and this certainly hugged the hell out of my hips. It pushed my breasts up, too, which I actually didn’t mind. I got all hot and bothered when I thought about his mouth there...

  “You look lovely,” the very nice sales girl said when she approached. “Do you want to look at some other choices?”

  I shook my head. “No, I love this one.”

  “Great! Do you want anything to go with it? Like jewelry? Or do you have your own already picked out?”

  That made me smile. The girl knew who I was the moment I’d walked inside because my mother and I used this store when we had an event. They didn’t work on commission, so that was my mom’s selling point.

  “Nah,” I said. “I don’t need anything to go with it.”

  “Are you sure? A necklace might look nice.”

  I declined, since Becket would be drawing on me. He would come up with something far better than some piece of jewelry. I was past my phase of enjoying those rocks. That happens when you’re obsessed with them, and your parents don’t let you look at them. All I wanted when I was little were pretty rocks to stare at. I only got to wear them for events.

  After I paid for the dress, I headed home. Becket couldn’t come with me, and it put a dark cloud above my head. Everything was... worse, without him around. Time moved slower, and days were harder to get through. Nights were impossible. How had I gone so long without realizing I was lonely?

  I got home, and walked through the house with my dress in a bag. Mom sat at the table, and she greeted me when I walked in.

  “Oh,” she said, a line forming between her eyebrows. “We’re having stuff sent over, sweetie. You didn’t need to go get a dress. I thought Dad told you.”

  “This isn’t for that,” I stated, walking to the stairs.

  Mom stopped me, grabbing my arm. “Why do you need a dress? You have a bunch of dresses.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “But there’s a dance on Saturday for Valentine’s Day, and I’m going.”

  Mom stood up, blocking me from the stairs. I should have lied to her. If I had, I would be in my room right now, having filthy daydreams about Becket, waiting for school to start again.

  “You are?” she asked me. “You don’t do dances. Since when do you care about that kind of stuff?”

  I didn’t but Becket did. “I have a date,” I admitted because why the fuck not. They would have found out eventually, and at least I would have a few days at this point.

  “With?”

  “Becket,” I said with a smile.

  She frowned at me, crossing her arms. “You said nothing was going on between the two of you. Did you lie to us?”

  “Not at all. Becket and I are friends, and he wanted to go to the dance.”

  Mom snickered. “No one else felt bad enough to go with the freak?”

  That thing in me snapped like a twig. Strangely, my smile grew. “Nope, so that meant I didn’t have to kill anyone. I get him all to myself. I’m hoping I can score a hotel room that night so that we can get a few good fucks in before I come home pregnant with a blood worker baby. See ya later, Mom.”

  I brushed past her, my shoulder bashing into hers on my way down. I didn’t worry at all that she would follow me because my mom wasn’t one for confrontation. She would assume I was full of it, just being a brat. And she wouldn’t even bring this to Dad because it would put him in a mood that would make the whole house shake. Mom knew better.

  It was a damn good thing.

  X

  Torture. It had been pure torture not having Becket in my bed at night. He couldn’t come over, and it would have been a risk for me to sneak out. If my dad found out I’d been sharing a bed with him, then it would have all been over.

  We did the next best thing.

  I felt myself drifting off but I held on as tightly as I could. “We really should find a night to meet up,” I said, trying not to yawn into my phone.

  On the other end, Becket said, “I agree. I like it much better when we’re sharing a bed.”

  “I can actually sleep then.”

  Every night that we couldn’t be together, we would do this. Talk until we both passed out. I thanked God I had unlimited minutes because we woke up with burning h
ot phones and nine-hour long tickers. I didn’t mind it.

  Saturday came, and I was so excited that I couldn’t stop twitching. I had everything I needed, including some special pens for Becket to use on me. They were henna tattoo pens, so the ink would last a lot longer. By now, all his pictures had faded away and I didn’t like it. It made me uncomfortable to be without a piece of him.

  When he appeared outside my window, my heart pounded. It didn’t settle at all when he got into my room and I saw him in his suit. He looked... lovely, all dressed up. His suit was a simple one, with a jacket and tie. In his hands was a corsage.

  “You look nice,” I said, trying not to sound like a dope.

  “Thank you,” Becket said, looking at the clear box in his hands. “I... my father thought I should get this for you.” He handed it over. “For your dress.”

  I thanked him and put a kiss on his cheek. I didn’t make a comment about his father because I wanted it to be a nice night.

  “Can you do me a favor?” I asked.

  Becket nodded.

  “I have to go change into my dress. Will you draw something on me when I come back out?”

  “Of course.”

  I gave him another kiss, putting it on his forehead this time. I wanted my lips on his, with his hands gripping my hips but I didn’t go for that. Simple wasn’t a bad thing. I didn’t want to do something that would have made him uncomfortable.

  Still, I worried about taking advantage of him. Becket could make his own choices but I needed to remain something safe for him. He needed one damn thing in his life that was safe. A person he could talk to, who would comfort him and give him the things that no one else did. If we crossed this line, I couldn’t be sure I would remain safe for him.

  In the bathroom, I changed as quickly as I could, then picked at myself until I looked good enough. The dress was floor length but I could walk it in. It loosened up right after the hip area, and it fit me comfortably. I put my hair up so that it wouldn’t block anything Becket was about to put on me. I wanted everyone to see how wonderful his art was.