“That’s not entirely true,” I say. “Things still could have worked out for you.”
“I doubt it, but maybe… maybe I would have finally come to my senses on my own and quit fighting the need to make myself miserable.” She sounds like she’s getting choked up, which is strange for her. She pauses and then clears her throat. “You’re coming, though, right? And you’ll be my maid of honor?”
“Of course. I’ve actually always wanted to be one.” I pause, contemplating whether I should ask, since her family is such a serious subject for her. “Ella, who else is coming?”
“You and Ethan.”
“And your dad?”
She hesitates. “I know things have been going pretty good between my dad and me and even my brother, but this is kind of something I want to be simple. Just me and Micha and you and Ethan, of course. Then there won’t be any drama.”
I sigh, sad that that’s how she feels. But then again, if I ever did get married, I’m not sure I’d want my family there either because they’d probably ruin it for me, especially if the groom wasn’t up to their standards. “Well, I’m totally coming, but you’ll have to ask Ethan.”
“Micha already did.”
“When?”
“A few days ago,” she says hesitantly. “He said he’d go.”
I’m kind of hurt. Why did he not mention this to me? “Okay, then I guess I’m going.” Usually, I’m good at sounding happy when I’m not, but the hurt shows through in my voice.
“Are you okay?” she asks. “I mean, with Ethan… is everything okay between you two?”
“Why would I not be okay?” I stand up from the seat as the bus reaches my stop, growing nervous over the idea that Ethan said something about us.
“I don’t know… because you two have a weird relationship.”
I grab the handle as the bus lurches to a stop. “Did Ethan say that to Micha?”
“No.” She sounds like she’s lying.
“Ella, please just tell me if he said anything.” I step off the bus and onto the curb feeling very insecure.
“Look, Lila, just relax,” she says and then I hear someone shout in the background. “Look, I got to go. Call me later after you’ve talked to Ethan and let me know when you’ll get here and stuff.”
“Fine.” I look left and right and hurry across the street toward my apartment. “Wait for me to shop for your dress, though.”
“Okay, I will, but I’m telling you right now,” she says, “that I won’t in any way shape or form be wearing a frilly white dress. It needs to be rock-star-ish or something.”
“Oh, we’ll find you something very Ella-like.” I step onto the sidewalk and enter the apartment complex entryway that’s situated between a broken fence and a desolate section of sandy land. The sun is setting so the air isn’t nearly as hot as midday, yet it’s still blistering and I’m starting to sweat. “I’m an excellent shopper.”
“It’s a deal,” she says cheerfully. “Talk to you later.”
“Okay, bye.” I hang up and seconds later I realize that I never got around to the reason why I called her.
Sighing, I take the house key out of my pocket, frustrated at myself because I really could use some girl advice about Ethan and what I should do and she probably would have given it if I’d just been brave enough to ask her, but my initial instincts to keep my mouth shut got the best of me. Although, I remember in high school how far girl advice got me. Just sleep with him. It’ll feel good and he’ll be less likely to break up with you. Sex means commitment. Sex means you’re older. Sex. Sex. Sex. I’m not even sure if they were ever really being sincere or if they were just toying with me.
When I enter the apartment, Ethan’s still not back from work. I settle down on the couch, with the takeout bag in front of me on the coffee table, trying not to think too much about the past, otherwise I know where I’ll end up heading—what I’ll end up doing. I turn on some of Ethan’s music, which I’m still getting used to, feeling nervous for some reason, like I can feel that I’m about to do or say something really stupid. Because I’m seriously considering telling him that I like like him. It’s time to be bold and blunt. It’s time to let him know how I feel. That I like him. I might even love him. My eyes widen as I realize that I might really do it and then double widen as I run my fingers through my now-chin-length hair that’s even shorter in the back. And as if that wasn’t a big enough change, I had black streaks put in.
“Who am I?” I whisper. I really don’t know anymore. A girl who chops off her own hair? Feels things for Ethan? A girl who wants to tell Ethan about her feelings? And that is very, very scary.
I’m deciding what I should do, run away or stay put and face my fears, finally be brave, when someone knocks on the door. I get up and open the door, then swiftly step back. “Parker?”
He looks me over and his face twists with disgust when he notes my new hair. “What the fuck did you do to you hair?”
“Cut it.” I shrug, praying to God he’s not here for the pills, even though deep down I know there’s no way that could be true. “What are you doing here?”
He’s wearing a navy-blue polo shirt, slacks, and a Rolex. “Don’t act like you’re surprised to see me.” His tone is sharp, his posture very rigid and threatening.
Suddenly I’m very aware that I’m alone in the apartment. “How did you know where I live?” I ask, gripping the doorknob tightly.
“I asked around.” He takes a deliberate step toward me, inching his way into the doorway. “You fucking stole from my stash, Lila. My fucking stash. Now I know you’re used to getting your way with me, but not with this. This is business.”
I step back, moving to shut the door, but he slams his hand against it. “I’m sorry, Parker,” I say, attempting to stay calm, but my palms start to sweat and my heart is beating wildly inside my chest. “I didn’t mean to. Really. I was just having a rough day and I messed up.”
He stalks closer, stepping over the threshold and onto the small section of chipped linoleum in the entryway. “Don’t try to feed me your sob story. You didn’t mean to? Seriously. What?” He starts swinging his hands animatedly as he speaks and it makes me wince. “You just accidentally opened the bottle hidden in my nightstand drawer and then accidentally poured a pill into your hand. I checked after you left, Lila, and there was a pill missing. And you know I keep track of that shit. You’ve seen me count them after I make a deal. Although, I’m a little surprised you took only one, seeing as how I’ve seen you pop four at a time without even hesitating.”
Shaking my head, I stumble back into the living room and inch around the coffee table, knowing I’m in serious trouble. “Look, what do you want me to say? I’m sorry, okay? I messed up. But I can’t bring the pill back. I can pay for it, though.” I reach for my wallet that’s next to the television.
He laughs darkly, walking all the way into the apartment. “You’re going to pay me for that fucking pill, Lila,” he says, shutting the door with his foot, keeping his eyes fixed on me. “But not with money. You know I don’t except cash for pills.”
I glance at the hallway, contemplating running into the bathroom and locking myself in there. This is bad. Very, very bad. I can feel that something bad is about to happen and I’m not sure how to get out of it.
“Don’t even think about it,” he says and then unzips his pants. “Now, you can either fuck me or suck my dick, but either way I’m going to get something out of this. I’m not just going to let you steal a pill from me and get away with it. You know me better than that.”
“You’re right. I do,” I say, my voice unsteady as I search around the room for my phone. Where did I leave it?
This evil ugly monster is about to come out of him. I know because I’ve seen it with every other guy out there. Try not to give them anything and they’ll break you. Give them what they want and they’ll take everything you have and then they’ll leave you in the dirt.
I press my lips together, feeling
a slight tremor inside my heart, but deep down I know I can probably do this if I need to. Just screw him and get it over with. I’ve done it before, but that was when I felt nothing. But right now it feels worse than wrong. It feels icky and twisted and warped. I’m scared, just like I was when Sean tied me to the bed, ropes around my ankles, wrists, even my stomach. I didn’t want to do it. I even told him that. Once. But once wasn’t enough and he took what he wanted.
“I think I—” I start, my hip bumping into the corner of the television stand as I try to back away more.
Parker hurries forward, his fly undone and before I can move he grabs a handful of my hair, wrenching on the roots so hard my scalp stings. “Get down on your fucking knees and be the whore that you and I and every other guy out there knows that you are.”
I raise my hand to slap him, but he catches me by the wrist, jabbing his fingers into my skin as he slaps me across my face. Tears sting at my eyes and my ears ring as he shoves me down onto the floor, pressing on my shoulders until I’m kneeling at his feet. I whimper pathetically as the rough carpet scrapes against my knees and my neck bends in an awkward position. “Stop it, Parker… You’re hurting me.”
“Good.” Cupping the back of my head, and still grasping violently on to my hair, he shoves my face toward his open fly. “Open your mouth and be the whore that you are.”
I remember when I was dating Parker I never felt a single speck of emotion. My mind and body were blank, just like almost every other single sexual encounter. I want the blankness right now—crave it. But it’s not coming. The switch that flips is staying stubbornly in place. I can feel the shame, terror, and embarrassment way too much. I start to cry because this is real. I’m not drunk or on pills and I don’t want to do anything with Parker, like I really didn’t want to with Sean. I was just too afraid to admit it and worried that if I walked away he wouldn’t love me. And I wanted—want—to be loved for once in my life.
But I never said no. All these years and not once did I refuse anyone who wanted me. I worried that no guy would ever listen to me, and really, I just didn’t think I was good enough to say no. In a sickening and perverse way, I’ve never felt good enough for anyone. So I just popped pills and did things I thought other people wanted me to do and waited for them to accept me, to love me, yet they never did. I thought Sean loved me, but he hurt me and now I’m scarred inside and out. I’m scarred and I don’t want to be. I want to feel like a whole person again. I want to go back to being fourteen and not make stupid choices, not have sex with an older guy who ties me to the bed after I say I don’t think I want to, that I don’t think I can, and then he screws me so hard the ropes cut into my skin and I bleed all over the bed. Then I’m left feeling guilty because I let it get that far and I’ll always feel like I didn’t put up enough of a fight. But I was lost. Confused.
A painful wave rushes over me as my past slams down on my shoulders. I don’t want to be this girl anymore. This lonely, hollow girl. I want to feel like I deserve things and not hate myself so much. I’m deciding whether to open my mouth and scream or just bite down really hard when the door opens and Ethan walks in, carrying his tool belt.
“Oh, thank God,” I say with relief and realize I’m trembling.
Parker turns around and looks over his shoulder, and then his fingers immediately leave my hair and I fall to the ground on my ass, cupping the side of my face that he struck me on.
“Dude, she wanted it,” he tells Ethan with his hands up in front of him.
I get to my feet, clutching my tender cheek as Ethan assesses the situation, taking in Parker with his pants undone, then me and my swollen cheek, before his eyes land back on Parker. He’s still dressed in his work clothes, torn cargo shorts, a black shirt stained with dirt, and he has his work boots on. He looks all bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks who kicks people like Parker’s ass just for fun. And I love it.
“Is that true, Lila?” Ethan glances at me, slowly taking the hammer out of his belt like he’s going to use it to beat Parker. I can tell he’s not going to, nor does he think what Parker said is true, but he’s messing with Parker’s head. “Did you want this loser to unzip his pants and force you down onto your knees?”
Parker cringes, eyeing the hammer as Ethan holds it in his hand, but he doesn’t say a word, inching back against the wall, trying to creep toward the doorway.
I wipe the drying tears from my eyes and swollen cheek as I shake my head. “No, I didn’t want it at all.” There’s this strange kind of freedom in saying it, like this secret I’ve kept hidden drifts out into the open, even if I’m the only one who understands.
“She’s a liar and a slut,” Parker argues, glaring at me, and then his gaze returns unsteadily back to Ethan. “Come on, man. You know her, so you must know what she’s like.”
Ethan shakes his head as he tosses his tool belt onto the couch, keeping ahold of the hammer and tapping it in his hand. “The Lila I know isn’t a slut.”
Parker’s eyes widen, and then he crosses his arms. “Well, the one I do is.”
“Well, that’s too bad for you.” Ethan chucks his keys onto the table, but doesn’t budge from the doorway.
I love Ethan. I seriously do. I feel the brave side of myself emerging and I take a small step forward. “Parker, as much as I would love to stand around here looking at your small penis, I’m sure Ethan doesn’t, so please zip up your pants.”
His gaze drops to his slacks and he quickly tucks himself in, then zips up the zipper. “Whatever,” he says, raking his fingers through his hair, attempting to tidy himself up. “I’m just going to leave. You two can go to hell.” He moves to the right to step around Ethan, but Ethan matches his move and blocks the doorway and his path.
“You’re not fucking leaving this house until Lila says what to do with you.” He looks at me with intensity burning in his eyes as he places his hands on the door frame. “Do you want me to beat the shit out of him or call the cops?” He raises the hammer in Parker’s direction.
“Fuck you,” Parker says, but he doesn’t dare move. It’s clear how easily Ethan could kick Parker’s ass, even without the hammer. He’s taller, stronger, rougher, and way, way more intense looking, like he’s been through things, which he has. He’s been beat by his father and watched his father hit his mother, while he tried to stand up for her. He’s real. And I want real, not the deception of it that sometimes comes with wealth and money. I’m not going to sacrifice my life like my mother did just so I can have nice clothes and a roof over my head. I like the cracked one that’s over my head now perfectly fine.
I unintentionally smile, especially when Parker makes this weird noise that sounds like a strangled cat. “I’m not sure what I want you to do.”
Ethan shrugs and then winks at me. “It’s up to you, beautiful.”
I can only imagine how broad my smile is at this moment because I’ve never had this—protection. I’ve never had someone in my life who would stand up for me and tell me that it was okay, that people make mistakes and it doesn’t mean you have to suffer eternally for them. I look over at Parker, who’s waiting expectantly for me to chime in and save his ass. I study him forever, until he squirms and looks like he’s about ready to piss his pants.
“Lila,” he says, his eyes pressing. “Help me out here.”
“Why?” I ask, folding my arms over my chest. “You seemed tough enough to handle yourself a few minutes ago.”
He glances at the hammer in Ethan’s hand, and then frowns back at me. “Lila,” he pleads. “You know I hate fighting.”
I roll my eyes. “Unless it’s a girl, right?”
His eyes narrow at my divulgence. “God damn it, Lila, I swear to fucking God…” He trails off, his jaw tightening as Ethan steps forward, patting the head of the hammer in his hand again.
I shake my head and sigh, knowing I’m not really going to let Ethan kick Parker’s ass, but only for Ethan’s sake. Parker’s the kind of guy who would either try to s
ue and press charges or come back with a group of his friends and have them all beat Ethan up. And if I call the cops, Parker’s daddy will probably just get him out, since he’s a lawyer. “Fine. Whatever. Ethan just let him go.”
Ethan doesn’t budge. His eyes are locked on me, and his arm snaps up to the side when Parker tries to head toward the door. “Are you sure?”
I nod, hugging my arms around myself. “Yeah, he’s not worth it.”
Ethan firmly holds my gaze as he steps to the side of the door and toward the couch, leaving a tiny bit of space for Parker to squeeze through. “Fine, but I’m letting you walk out of here bruise free only because of her.” He nods his head in my direction as he glares at Parker.
Parker narrows his eyes at Ethan but doesn’t say anything as he turns sideways and squeezes between Ethan and the doorway. Every muscle in Ethan’s body tenses, his knuckles whitening as he tightly grips the handle of the hammer, and I can tell it’s really hard for him to let Parker walk out of here.
When Parker steps outside, he pretty much takes off running, and Ethan kicks the door shut hard, like he’s locking out the bad by doing it. He turns around and faces me, tossing the hammer aside, then leans back against it with his arms crossed.
“So what really happened?” He studies me intently, taking in every square inch of my body, and it makes my skin ignite. His gaze lingers on my cheek and I know he’s wondering: Did he hit you? It makes my skin even hotter, because I can see in his eyes that he cares.
It’s a minor sensation, the slightest bit of heat in all the right places, but it’s enough to make me notice the difference between the way I feel around Ethan and the way I felt with Parker. Around Parker my skin was chilled like ice, basically numb. It’s the sensation that I’ve felt with most of the guys I remember hooking up with.
“It’s a long, stupid story like most of my life is.” I sink down on the edge of the coffee table and place my hands on my lap, focusing on them instead of Ethan because I do feel ashamed of what just happened—what he just saw—because it’s not the first time I’ve been in that kind of a situation and it’s my own fault it happened. “He came to collect my debt for the pill I stole. I said I’d pay him, but since I’d promised at his house that I’d fuck him for one, that’s the payment he wanted. So he… well, what you saw.”
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