RUINING ANGEL

by S. Pratt

  They all looks nervously at one other, not quite sure what to say. The social worker, Margaret decides to interject.

  ‘The Michaels already have a daughter. Her name is Bailey.’

  ‘I’ve never had a sister before,’ I say worriedly, looking back and forth from Mr. and Mr. Michaels. My new mother smiles kindly, the corner of her eyes crinkling as she does so.

  ‘That’s okay, Emmett. Why don’t you just think of her as a new friend to play with?’

  ‘Excellent idea, Kathy. Would you like a friend to play with, Emmett?’ asks Mr. Michaels.

  I scrunch my face up while I think about this.

  ‘I guess so. I mean, she’s nice and all, isn’t she?’ Everybody laughs at once, and I smile, although I don’t quite get the joke.

  ‘You’re going to just love her!’ beams Mrs. Michaels. Her happiness makes me happy too. I smile widely. For some reason I don’t doubt her for a second.

  CHAPTER THREE - Just Kids

  The year I turned thirteen we headed off for our summer vacation to Astoria, Oregon. We’ve driven all the way from Washington DC. Mom and Dad have hired a cottage on the hill for us to live in for the next couple of weeks.

  When we arrive, Bailey and I fight over who gets which room, but I surrender the room I first claim dibs on because her pouty lips get to me. I can’t stand to see her upset; I want her to be happy. Sometimes I think that she was here first (with our parents, I mean) so she deserves first choice with everything. Her happiness makes me feel settled in our family.

  Today, mom and dad have hired a sailing boat. Bailey looks none too pleased, although I assure her I will look after her. She’s only ten, and still scares easily. I want to protect her, and promise her I won’t let anything bad happen.

  It’s very windy. The water is choppy and the little sail boat bobs mercilessly on the surface. We put on our wetsuits over our swimwear and zip up the life vests that have been supplied by the boat hire place. I take Bailey’s hand in mine and sit with her on the rear seat of the sailing boat. She looks pale, so I pull her close and snuggle her to my body. Everything about her is familiar – her smell, her touch, the way her breath reaches my face when she’s panting hard, trying to act brave as out boat crests wave after wave.

  ‘Don’t worry, Bailey. I won’t let anything happen to you,’ I promise.

  ‘Thank you, Emmett.’ Her voice is just a whisper above the roar of the ocean, but I hear it all the same. ‘Are you sure sharks aren’t waiting to eat us?’

  ‘No,’ I promise, ‘they’re off eating something with much more meat on their bones than you.’ She laughs now, clearly happy with my reasoning and willing to accept what I tell her.

  As I promise her, the rest of our trip on the bay remains uneventful. From memory, it is one of the happiest times I spent with my new family. I get to do something fun and exciting, but also get to comfort my very best friend – Bailey.

  I recognize how much I depend on her for my own happiness. She has become a lifeline, something I need in my life to keep moving and maintain my sanity. Everything about her makes me forget my old life. The darkness, the loneliness. She makes me feel happy and free, like I could do anything or be anyone.

  As much as she feels like I am comforting her, really, it is the other way around.

  CHAPTER FOUR – Surrender Yourself

  I’m in my room, ear phones on, listening to a CD on the boom box I got for my fourteenth birthday this year. It’s too big to take anywhere, but that doesn’t detract from the novelty of having my own stereo system in my room. Guns ‘n’ Roses has never sounded so good, my feet tapping away as November Rain seeps into my soul.

  There’s a moment when I’m halfway through singing along with the chorus when I realize I’m no longer alone in my room. Embarrassment doesn’t even cover it. My mom is smirking at me from the doorway of my bedroom, arms folded across her chest as she enjoys her front row seat to my voice-cracking rendition of the song.

  I sit up abruptly, dragging the ear phones off my head so I can hear her.

  ‘Hey mom.’ I’m feeling a little sheepish right now.

  ‘Hey baby, how’s the stereo?’

  ‘Pretty great … Actually, it’s awesome.’ She smiles at me, her eyes crinkling at the joy I have found in my present.

  ‘Your dad and I are so pleased you like it.’

  ‘I really do, it’s the best present I’ve ever had.’ She’s lingering in the doorway, which makes me wonder what she came to see me about – it wasn’t just to check on me, I’m sure. It’s Saturday and normally I would be out playing soccer, but today’s game was cancelled due to the weather. It’s been raining for days on end.

  ‘Did you need me, mom?’

  ‘Oh sorry honey, I didn’t mean to interrupt you, but I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind checking up on Bailey.’

  ‘Bailey? Wasn’t her friend Sarah coming over to play today?’

  ‘She was, but she was invited to a birthday party and cancelled last night. I thought maybe you could go and cheer her up. I think she’s feeling a little miserable at being left out of the birthday invites.’

  ‘Sure thing mom.’ Turning off the stereo, I hop off the bed to go and find Bailey. As I pass my mom, she ruffles my mop of dark hair.

  ‘You’re such a good boy,’ she praises me, kissing my forehead. I hug her waist, thankful for the millionth time that she took me in when I was little. With a final squeeze, I head down the hallway to Bailey’s room.

  Knocking lightly, I wait for Bailey to invite me in.

  ‘Come in.’ She sounds so miserable, my heart instantly aches for her. Inside, she’s sitting on the floor on the carpet, absently brushing a dolls hair. I can’t see her face, her own auburn hair spilling to cover it.

  ‘Hey Bailey boo, whatchya doin’?’ She sniffles, her blue glassy eyes finding my own. It’s obvious she’s been crying and I feel bad that she’s upset.

  ‘Just playing with my dolls,’ she says as she goes back to brushing the dolls hair.

  ‘Sarah didn’t turn up, huh?’ Her eyes flicker to me quickly.

  ‘Mom told you?’

  ‘Yeah … I’m sorry you didn’t get invited to the party with Sarah,’ I offer.

  ‘That’s okay,’ she says, although I’m sure it isn’t.

  ‘How about I play with you instead?’ She eyes me incredulously.

  ‘Emmett, you don’t really want to play girls games with me. I’ll be fine on my own.’ She wipes a stray tear that has started to slide down her cheek. This innate need to protect her and make her as happy as she makes me seems to come to me like second nature. There is nothing that I wouldn’t do for this girl. Well, almost nothing.

  ‘Of course I want to play with you. Anything you had planned with Sarah, I’m all for it.’ She brightens instantly, a wicked little grin coming to her thin red lips.

  ‘Anything?’

  ‘Anything.’

  ‘Okay, well we were going to paint our nails first,’ she says innocently. Little devil – doesn’t she just have me all stitched up. I swallow nervously, wondering if I could really say no and break her heart.

  ‘Sure, I’m game.’ Her eyebrows arch in surprise, but she hurries to get her nail polish before I change my mind. I’m in for a treat. She’s going to a lot of trouble to set up her nail parlor double time.

  ‘Okay, I’m ready.’ Bailey motions for me to join her at the little table and chairs in the corner of her room. They are far too small for us, but we squeeze our asses into the seats and make ourselves as comfortable as possible. There’s a small hand towel in between us, some nail polish, a file and a bottle of hand cream. I give her my hand and she starts in on my beauty treatment. Not what most fourteen year old boys would be doing with their weekend, but for her, I’ll make an exception.

  She says nothing as she files, polishes and paints my nails – all different colors. I hope to hell I can get the stuff off before school on Monday or I’m going to get bullied like a pim
ply teen on their first day of high school. Finally she’s finished with painting my nails and I admire her handiwork.

  ‘You did a great job,’ I smile.

  ‘Thanks.’ She blushes, pleased I have paid her a compliment.

  ‘So what’s next?’ I ask.

  ‘Well, I really wanted to play hairdressers.’

  ‘You’re not seriously going to make me lose the rest of my manhood by letting you do my hair, are you?’ Her face drops. Is she pouting at me? Instantly I cave in. I’m putty in her hands and she knows it.

  ‘Okay,’ I sigh, and sit back to receive the rest of my torture.

  There’s a knock on the bedroom door, just as Bailey finishes my latest in beauty treatments. I now have a face full of make-up. Lipstick, blusher – the works. My hair has a funky do and my fingernails are painted all the colors of the rainbow. Most boys would freak about such things, while I’m just happy I got to spend time with my best friend and make her happy. Mom walks in with a tray of milk and cookies.

  ‘Hey you guys, I just thought you’d –’ Mom abruptly stops mid-sentence when she catches sight of me.

  ‘Hey mom,’ we say in unison, innocence exuding from our pores.

  ‘Oh my,’ she mutters in horror as she takes in the plum lipstick on my lips.

  ‘Emmett, I …’ Nope, she’s still unable to finish a sentence.

  ‘Bailey and I have had a lot of fun. She did a great job with my nails, don’t you think?’ I ask as I wiggle my fingertips in her direction. Bailey smiles proudly; pleased she’s had such a compliant subject.

  ‘You look … lovely, dear.’ Her face says I’m anything but.

  ‘Thanks mom,’ I wink. Bailey goes back to sorting out her bottles of make-up while mom and I exchange glances. She mouths the words ‘I’m sorry!’ at me before dumping the tray of snacks, making a hasty retreat out of the room.

  In the space of an hour, Bailey has gone from feeling sad and rejected, to happy and loved. I feel pleased that I’ve had something to do with that. I watch her as she gets her dolls ready for us to play with next. Something tells me she could have me doing this all day. I’d never tell her, though, that I wouldn’t mind, not even a little bit.

  CHAPTER FIVE - Forbidden

  Usually I prefer the company of one. I know people gravitate towards me, although I have never been sure why. I do hang out with a few of the guys from school, but they’re always older than I am, so it’s usually only when there is free booze on offer. Tonight is one of those nights.

  Jack Robbins is an ex-student of St. John’s College. He spent far too many nights partying to actually go on and make it to university where he could get a degree. Instead he’s living in the basement of mommy and daddy’s house, sponging off his trust fund in order to keep up the drug and alcohol fuelled lifestyle he’s become accustomed to. It works well for us guys who are still in school because he’s always happy to share his stash. Nobody likes to drink alone, right? And most of his friends from his graduating grade packed their box of tricks a long time ago and shipped out to universities around the country.

  The text message came through on my cell earlier in the afternoon. It was a typical lazy Sunday at the Michaels. Dad’s mowing the lawn, mom’s drinking homemade lemonade in a chaise lounge and Bailey is reading a book in the hammock under the large oak tree in the backyard. I watch her from my spot on the porch with interest. She’s reading a Wind In The Willows – a book I gave her for her birthday this year. She just turned fourteen, yet she acts like she’s an adult. Sometimes I wonder if she enjoys being a teenager at all.

  The hammock swings lazily from side to side. One long leg drapes over the side, her big toe only just reaching the grass to give her a little push, the continuous momentum of the hammock seemingly swaying in the breeze all by itself. She’s engrossed, and I wish she were reading out loud so that I might hear what part she’s up to. But she ignores the rest of us, wrapped up in the world that lies between the pages of her book.

  My cell vibrates. There’s a party being held on the oval of our school just after midnight. I’m invited. I’m like any other seventeen year old guy. The promise of free booze and girls – you can bet your ass I’m gonna be there.

  ****

  I rock up alone, because that’s the way I roll. Sneaking out of my window was so easy I kind of feel bad that my parents are none the wiser. While Bailey and I are afforded a lot of freedom, I try not to overstep the mark just because they trust me more than they should. The air is cool and crisp. Not yet Fall, but the witching hour lends itself to being the coldest part of the day. Striding with purpose through the front gates of the school, I jog easily towards the back of the buildings and down towards the oval.

  I’m lucky I know my way around, because the moon has rudely hidden itself behind a blanket of clouds that does nothing to light my way. Through the pitch black of night I can see a blaze of fire coming from an old metal drum that normally suffices as our garbage cans. The janitor is going to have the fucking shits on Monday when he realizes we’ve stolen it and turned it into a fire pit.

  A light stream of fog trails out of my mouth as I jog towards the light of the flames. Noises of drunk teenagers echo across the grass field towards me. We’re lucky there aren’t any neighboring houses that border the school property or the cops would have been called a long time ago.

  Approaching the small group of teens, it’s obvious the usual crowd is here. Not misfits by any standards – more an exclusive selection of people who can keep their mouths shut and not turn a small gathering into a mob of hundreds of drunk and stoned teenagers. I pull up a bit of turf next to a friend of mine, Rick, and grab a beer from the ice chest.

  ‘Hey man, about time you got here!’ A slight giggle escapes his lips as he puffs greedily on a joint. He’s not only drunk, but stoned off his head as well. I yank the joint out of his mouth and throw it into the fire pit in front of us.

  ‘Hey!’ Rick exclaims indignantly.

  ‘That shit’s for losers man. Stick to the beer, okay?’

  ‘Hey, whatever.’ Another giggle escapes his lips and I wish I had a video camera to record his idiotic behavior. It’s always the sober one that is the party pooper. Looks like tonight, that’s me.

  Needing to loosen up a little, I chug the first beer, the amber liquid gliding easily down my throat. It chills me a little, but I ignore it. People are sitting in a circle around the metal fire drum, laughing, swearing, giggling and chatting as they quickly get themselves inebriated. My eyes catch those of a girl, and I have to pause for a minute to think who she reminds me of.

  Another beer in my hand and I drown out the noise of my peers and let my eyes drink her in.

  She’s very pretty, but not in a conventional way. There’s no blonde hair or big tits, but she’s just as beautiful with long brown hair and a pert ass. She seems a little shy, but certainly not enough to stop her from getting off her ass and coming over to talk to me. Rick does what friends do in situations like this and makes himself scarce. She slides a little closer, asking my name.

  ‘It’s Emmett,’ I inform her.

  ‘I’m Stacey.’

  ‘Nice to meet you, Stacey.’ She flushes just a little in the cheeks, the flames of the fire picking up her features and making them even prettier in the light. Her long brown hair is pulled up into a messy bun and I wonder briefly what it would be like to pull it down and let her shake it free.

  I’m not much of a talker, so I let her carry the conversation. For hours she sits by my side, patiently chatting away, getting more suggestive the more she drinks. There’s a point that I start to think that tonight might be the night. The night I finally lose my virginity. It’s damn well starting to get embarrassing. I wanted to wait, to completely love the person who I end up making love to, but at seventeen I seem to be part of a dying race.

  Another beer, a little more courage and I decide to test the water.

  ‘You want to go for a walk?’ Her eyes say it all. S
he’s eager, albeit a little glassy eyed. I help her to her feet. She grips my hand firmly, using me as a walking aid as we leave the drunken party behind us. There are a few low whistles and cat-calls, but I ignore them as I lead her to the forest of trees that border the oval.

  A little way in, and we can still see the light of the fire. She stops and brazenly pulls me to her, crushing her lips to mine. She has to stand on tippy-toes to reach me. I’m a lot taller than her at five feet eleven inches, so she struggles to meet my lips easily. Despite the alcohol, my arousal pushes on my jeans as her tongue makes its way into my mouth. I know she wants this, hell, I want this. My large hands find the hem of her too-short mini skirt and slowly, teasingly I ease it up her thighs.

  Her breath catches in the back of her throat.

  ‘Is this too much?’ I ask hoarsely.

  ‘No, don’t stop,’ she pleads, thrusting her pelvis back towards my groin area, letting her fingertips work their way into my dark cropped hair. I try to think of anything other than what she’s doing to me so I don’t blow before I get to shove my cock in her a few times. While I hope I’m not too much of a disappointment, I’m already selfishly thinking this is all about me.

  As our urgency increases, I look for a sturdy tree that I can rest her backside up against. Grabbing her ass, I lift her to straddle my waist and walk the few steps to roughly shove her up against the bark of a pine tree. She lets out a gasp, but goes back to fisting my hair. My biceps flex as I hold her weight and I shift so that I can quickly fumble the condom out of my back pocket.