by Fields, MJ
Her mom looks at me, then back at her, noticing both of us have odd expressions on our faces. She laughs and her eyes twinkle. “So that’s what you kids are calling it these days? Well, I guess I should say it’s about time for you two.”
I choke on my own spit, making me cough when I catch on to what she’s implying. Her parents have always leaned toward the hippy side and are very open about a lot of things, but I’m shocked she just insinuated we were talking in code for having sex.
“Mom…” Lily’s cheeks burn bright red. She covers her face, embarrassed. “I can’t believe you!”
Seeing her blush like this reminds me of the good girl she is. This is why I couldn’t do anything with that hooker last night. I want—no, I need—someone innocent like her.
Even though I love watching her squirm, I finally speak up to ease her bashfulness. “I didn’t tell Lily where I wanted to go yet, but maybe afterward we’ll see about some ice cream.” I wink, making Lily hit me in my stomach in response. I just couldn’t resist.
She grabs my hand, pulling me toward the front door and shaking her head as she says goodbye to her mom.
Her mom fights the smile threatening to take over her face, but before we make it out the door, she stops us. “Trevin.” She brings me in for a hug. “Happy birthday.”
I give her a soft hug, thanking her in return. I’m not just grateful for Lily, but for her family as well now that my own mom is gone.
I’m able to sneak in and out of my house without my dad noticing, and I hop into Lily’s car already running in the driveway.
She turned sixteen a month ago, and her parents are pretty cool about her taking their car. I can’t imagine what it would be like to have parents like hers. I used to have my mom to balance the harshness that is my dad, but now I have to fend for myself. I’m just not sure how long I can last with him.
“Okay, where to?” Lily says with the sweetest smile on her face.
“Can you take me to see my mom?” My voice is barely above a whisper.
Without saying a word, she reaches out to intertwine her fingers with mine. We hold onto each other until she has to release me to park at the cemetery.
“Do you want me to come with you?” The hesitation is visible on her face.
I reach for her hand again, needing her for courage just to open the door. “Please?” is all I can get out before I take a deep breath and reach for the handle.
With my guitar in one hand and Lily’s held tightly in the other, we walk together in silence to my mom’s gravesite.
It’s a simple flat headstone. The cheapest my dad could find. One day I’m going to replace it with a proper headstone that an amazing woman like her deserves.
My knees give out and my eyes well up with tears as soon as the grave marker comes into sight. I plop down on the ground, wondering why she had to die.
My fingers trace the letters of her name and “Loving Mother.” That she was. She put up with a lot she didn’t deserve—all to make sure I had a roof over my head and food on my plate.
I made her a promise years ago, and tonight I’m going to fulfill it. Reaching behind me, I grab my guitar and sit cross-legged in front of her grave as I pick out the beginning chords to Simple Man by Lynyrd Skynyrd.
No one has ever heard me sing, and even though Lily’s sitting behind me listening, I begin to feel the lyrics from the bottom of my heart, holding nothing back and pouring my soul into the song. “Mama told me, when I was young.”
My eyes stay closed as I sing for my mom, imagining her here in front of me, smiling because I learned her favorite song—just for her. When I get to the lyrics that talk about finding a woman, without thinking, I open my eyes. Turning slightly to Lily sitting beside me now and looking directly at her, I sing, “And you'll find love.”
I see the tears well up in her eyes and spill over, so I close mine again, focusing on the song for my mom.
I make it through the entire song before completely breaking down, dropping my chin to my chest and crying the tears I’ve held in since the day she died.
Lily’s arms wrap around me. She doesn’t say a word, just holds me, putting me back together after I completely fall apart.
Right here and now, I promise myself I will be a Simple Man. For my mom, I will try my hardest to be the best man anyone would want to love, especially the girl holding me right now.
Seven
Dirty girl, different every night.
Dirty girl, don't think you’re right.
With your warm body and fake tits
All I want are your long licks.
- Trevin Allen
Trevin – Age 17
Never in my wildest imagination would I have believed my dad getting me a hooker for my birthday would have brought us closer together. That night, over a year ago, convinced him I was finally a “man” and has begun including me in all his activities, including any alcohol and drugs he can get his hands on.
The first time he sent me on a drug run was the scariest day of my life. He thought since I was still a kid, the guys wouldn’t fuck with me…but, yeah, let’s just say he was totally wrong.
“Trevin, don’t be a shithead. No one will mess with you. You’re a kid for fuck’s sake. Me, on the other hand…” He shakes his head, looking around like someone’s standing right outside the door getting ready to bust him. “Just take the money.” He forces the cash in front of my face. “And walk back there; they’re waiting for you.”
I stare at my dad, who’s sitting in the front seat next to his current dirty slut. There’s a new one every couple weeks, so I don’t bother to keep track of them anymore. Disgust seeps from every pore as I stare at the two of them. I can’t believe I’m about to do this. I can’t believe I’m stuck in this mess, but most of all, I can’t believe I’m here because of my dad.
Letting out a loud huff, I grab the money and open the door to his new Cadillac Escalade, bought with the money from my mom’s death. It’s past midnight, and he has me walking down a dark alley toward the back door of a chop shop on the shady side of town. Any normal father would beat their child if he found out they were back here. But not my dad. He would beat me if I didn’t go back here.
By the light of the moon, I see a door to the right and knock in the manner I was instructed to do so. The door swings open and I’m met by a grizzly man. His dark beard and leather jacket make him far more intimidating in the dark. “What the fuck you want, kid?”
I swallow hard, puff out my chest and pretend to be someone I’m not. “I want the goods. I got money.” I pull it out from my back pocket. “You gonna give me some or not?”
“How about not, kid—get lost.”
He starts to shut the door, leaving me standing in the alley, but visions of facing my father empty handed flash before my eyes, and I put my hand out, willing to do anything to not have to withstand his wrath tonight.
“Look. I ain’t a kid and you have something in there I want, something I already ordered. Now, are you going to stop me or am I going to call your boss?”
The guy lets out a deep laugh, and I watch as his large belly rumbles through the shadows. “You’re not PD?”
“Fuck no. Just me,” I state with a tip of my head, trying to be hard.
“Okay…” He gets close enough I can smell the stench of beer and cigarettes on his breath. “Then prove it.”
“What? You want to frisk me? I’m not wearing a wire.”
“Na, kid. Something better. I wanna watch you do a line. You ain’t chicken, are you?”
My palms instantly start to sweat, but I clench them together, grind my teeth and nod, pushing my way past him, ready for whatever he’s got.
Motorcycle and a few car parts lying around fill my vision before a group of guys head my way with one of them slapping a tire iron against his open palm.
The bearded man slams the door shut, making me jump slightly before he lets out a small laugh. “This kid here wants to buy from us. I say he’s PD. He says he�
�s not, so why don’t you cut a line for him to prove it.”
One guy nods without saying a word and walks to the cupboard, grabbing something before heading back to a table to prepare my first high.
Without hesitation, I pull the chair out, turning it to sit backward, straddling it as I ready myself for what’s going down.
Before long, he slides a mirror my direction with a wicked grin on his face. I grab the rolled up bill instantly and lean down to snort my first line.
The sting burns my eyes and I can’t help but cough from the powder hitting the back of my throat, but I did it. My throat goes numb and my body temperature rises. The job is done, so without a word, I reach for the money in my back pocket, hand it to the guy in exchange for my dad’s eight-ball and stand up. I’m ready to get the hell out of here but try to act badass and maintain my composure. The sound of grown men laughing at my reaction as I walk out the door brings tears to my eyes that I quickly blink away. I don’t know whether to be disgusted with what my life has become or pity myself.
The term scared shitless might have run through my head a few times that night. I’d never done anything illegal, much less any type of drug, and had just taken my first drink a few weeks before, which knocked me on my ass. At the time, I had no idea what the coke would do to me. Now though, it’s something I’ve done more times than I should ever admit.
We’d become the trash of our town. Whenever I’d leave the house after my mom died, I would hear people whispering behind my back, expressing their sorrow over what had become of me in my mother’s absence. I was a replica of my father, and people were reluctant to make eye contact with me. They believed I didn’t give a shit she was gone—just like he didn’t. That, coupled with my dreams of playing baseball going up in flames, and I really don’t give a shit about anything. I quit fighting him in favor of joining him—the path of least resistance. If anything, it’s made my home life more tolerable.
My friends have all vanished and the only thing left in my life is my guitar, and of course, Lily, though sometimes even I wonder why she stays around. We don’t hang out like we used to, but I still see her at least once a week.
My grades are slipping more than they should, but without a parent at home who gives a shit, it makes it hard to stay motivated. I started hanging out with a group who would rather get high than be at school. And when they’re here, the assholes drink from their 7-11 cups full of alcohol right on school grounds during our passing periods.
None of us give a fuck if we get caught. Shit, my dad would high-five me rather than yell at me if we did. So completely twisted, but it’s a hell of a lot easier now than it was when he yelled at me all the time.
I’ll never forget the first time he got me high on weed. It was like all the pain within me melted away and I was floating above the home that I called hell.
The only reason I haven’t dropped out of school completely is because of Lily. I can’t let her believe I’m a complete fuck up. Besides, the best part of school is anytime Lily walks by me between classes. It’s also one of the few times I can count on seeing her, and it makes the days stuck in these halls bearable. Between periods, she stops, not turning but rather walking sideways, straight into my arms. We stay like that, in a soft embrace, until the bell rings and we go our separate ways.
The two of us are quite the sight to be seen. Her friends give her constant shit for stopping to have contact with me, but that doesn't stop her. Imagine me with my pierced lip and spiked black hair in contrast to her All-American high school look. I’m always dressed in tight black pants as opposed to her preppy jeans and flip-flops. Or my studded belt and black leather jacket with safety pins running up the arms and a white flag pinned to my back for my favorite band, the Misfits, against her Abercrombie and Fitch floral tank top and her hair long with soft curls. My favorite, though, is cuddling up to her in her dance team uniform with her hair braided to the side—the only thing hanging to my side is the chain on my belt attached to my wallet.
Nothing of me remains the same that she grew up with, other than the thin black and blue bracelet she gave me, and I’ve worn it every day since I was nine. It’s a reminder of who I really am—a visual ground wire—a tether to Lily. She swore it was my good luck charm, but to me, it’s a piece of her I get to keep connected to me at all times. Funny how it matches my look now more than it did back then.
To say we don’t match is an understatement, but that never stops her. Like clockwork, between second and third period, then again between fifth and sixth, she walks straight into my arms, pushing through my group of lame ass friends and stays there, not saying a word, just leaning against me like she enjoys the feeling I offer her. And believe me, it’s mutual.
Just like every other day, here we are, between second and third period, and she’s making her way straight to me until her friend Morgan stops her. “Are you serious right now? Do you have to stop every time you see him?” I watch the judgment form on her friend’s face and morph into disbelief when Lily answers.
She smiles, staring straight into the girl’s eyes. “Yes, he’s my gravity. I’m pulled toward him, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
I laugh and wrap my arms around her as her friend walks away in a huff.
I can’t help it when I whisper in her ear, “I like being your gravity for a change.”
She smiles as the bell rings and hugs me tightly before walking off to her next class.
The day drags on and I’m dying to get out of here, but I know I can’t leave until after our time together between fifth and sixth periods. As I approach my locker, Brent calls to me. “Let’s bail. My dad has a sack and I’m ready to get lost for the rest of the day.”
“Yeah, just give me a few minutes,” I respond as I lean back against my locker and wait for Lily.
“Really, fucker? You’re just going to wait on this chick? I’ll never understand your feelings for her. She doesn’t put out, you’ve never gotten a thing from her, yet you sit here all pussy whipped, waiting with your dick tucked between your legs.”
“Shut the fuck up. You know it’s not like that.”
“Yeah, whatever. I’ll be in the car when you get your balls back,” he mocks, walking away with the rest of the guys just as Lily walks up. It’s rare that my friends aren’t present for our brief interactions. With the opportunity to actually talk to her, I ask, “How’s your day going?”
“It’s okay. Samantha’s having drama with Kyle, so there’s been a lot of emotions flying today.”
I shake my head, not caring at all about her friend’s boyfriend-girlfriend drama, which makes her laugh.
“I know you don’t care, but you asked.” She hits my chest before snuggling in closer.
“I know. Sorry I did.” I lean down and kiss the top of her head. Her familiar scent fills my nose and warms me inside. It’s a moment of contentment, happiness, with her and no one else.
We sit in a comfortable silence. I lower my lips to the top of her head, kissing her before inhaling her sweet shampoo, loving the way her scent calms my inner turmoil. Sadness knocks me from my high when the bell rings again. “You’re not leaving are you?” She looks up, still wrapped tightly in my arms with concern written all over her face.
“Yeah, they’re waiting for me in the car…unless you want to go get ice cream together?” I ask, wiggling my eyebrows, using her mom’s sexual innuendo. It’s become my favorite joke between us, next to her nickname, of course.
“Trev…” she scolds. She’s prim and proper and I’m crass and outcast.
“Lily Pad…” I tease back. She hates it when I call her that, which is why I always will. Just for fun. Her face proves why I love messing with her, and I laugh in response until she shrugs it off, knowing it’s a losing battle.
“Just be careful, okay? And I’ll see you tonight, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it. Oh, here.” I hand her a piece of paper that’s folded down to a small rectangle, then kiss her f
orehead before heading in the opposite direction of my classroom and straight to the parking lot.
We head to Brent’s house. His dad’s a dealer and sometimes throws down a few sacks of green bud for us to enjoy for free. A few girls came over to party, and we’re all sitting around his living room, high as fuck and not giving a shit about anything.
Tracy, a girl I’ve seen around a few times, comes to sit on my lap. “Hey, Trevin.”
“Hey, Trace, make yourself at home.” I smirk in response.
“Thanks, I think I will. Why don’t you take me into the next room.”
Well fuck, no guy’s going to turn that down. “After you.” I grin as she moves off my lap, pulling my hand as we slip out of the room and into Brent’s bedroom.
“I’ve heard about you,” she teases as she pulls me close to her, placing her hands on my chest.
“Yeah, what have you heard?” I say playfully.
“That you don’t kiss.” She leans up to try to reach my lips, but I turn them to the left so she gets my cheek.
“Well, you’ve heard right,” I tease.
She sticks her bottom lip out. “Not even me?”
“Sorry, baby. Not even you.”
“Then what are you doing back here?” she asks, trying to flirt and be as sexy as possible; it’s working, a little.
I grab her, pulling her into me. “Well, that’s up to you. You’re the one who wanted me back here.” Her hands wander as she slowly starts to undo my buckle. “Yeah, you want what’s in there?” I nudge her to continue.
She nods as she bites her lower lip, looking down at my cock when she pulls it out of my boxer briefs. Without hesitating, she drops to her knees right in front of me. Fuck, I love being a guy. It’s amazing what girls will do to try to please me, and I don’t have to do a damn thing in return. I’ve gotten more blowjobs than I can even remember, but I still haven’t kissed anyone else. I have no desire knowing one day, I’ll have Lily the way I want her.