by K R Bicknell
“So? Despite what all the girls think, they’re not gods! I’m not scared.” she bragged.
“Well, I am, and you know my mom is dating their dad.”
“So?”
“So. I know they’re assholes but hope to god they’re not the criminals you say they are.”
“Their dad just hides it, you know, pays off the authorities.”
We were finally in front of Dennys, where I had a shift tonight, until eight.
“You want Peter and me to pick you up after your shift?” Mandy asked.
“No.” I said, “I really don’t want to go to any parties.”
She pouted cutely. “All right, call me if you change your mind.”
“I will, and best of luck!”
“Thank you, I need it!”
My best friend had been trying to lose her V-card since she was sixteen, for a whole year and a half now. But to her disappointment was unable to, every time she got close to a guy, something happened to break them up. I think it was her. I liked to think she just wasn’t as ready as she said. Otherwise how hard could it be to lose something every guy was supposedly wanting?
Work was busy like most Fridays and I was tired and hungry by the time my shift was over.
“Eat!” Enrico said when he saw me clock out and pocket my share of the tips. The only benefit of working weekends was the cash.
“Do I have to?” I whine, all I wanted to do is to go home and pass out. This week had been longer than most with studying for finals and the cold front that had hit mid-week. My mom and I hadn’t had any money to pay the gas bill last month and I hadn’t been able to warm up enough in the night without heat to sleep soundly. At least now my futon would be relatively warm from the sun shining on it most of the afternoon.
“Yes.” He said grabbing my arm and leading me to a stool at the counter. In front of me was a plate full of his specialty. A three-egg omelet filled with mushrooms and Swiss cheese, and my stomach grumbled.
I gave in and pigged out, Enrico adding toast and crisp, greasy bacon to my already too full plate. I was lucky to have found work with him and Wanda, my manager. The both of them had taken me under their wings like a featherless bird. A couple of waitresses were cold bitches, but I had learned to stay off their radar early on.
“You working the weekend?” Wanda, my boss walked in.
“Of course!” I said, my mouth full of bacon, “I work every day of the break till school starts.”
“You really should take some time off and enjoy, your high school years don’t come back, and you’re never going to look this hot again.” Wanda loved to tease calling me hot and sexy when she was the bombshell, with cafe mocha skin and an hourglass figure.
I snorted.
“She’s right, you know.” Enrico added his two bits, “Sex ain’t the same when you get old.”
“Is that why you have a new girl every week?” I tease. In his white apron and hairnet, Enrico looked like a cute mess, but I’d seen him dolled up for a date and my middle-aged Hispanic friend was just as hot as my boss.
“Hey, just keepin my options open, still looking for the one to make me feel like I did at seventeen.”
“Not going to happen.” Wanda added, “Don’t tell me the guys at your school are blind?” she asked me.
“Even if they weren’t, I’m not interested.” I sigh.
“Our girl is selective, it’s good to be picky,” Enrico said.
“Like you are?” Wanda said, “Anyways I got to get back to work, I’ll see you at eleven tomorrow?” directing the last question to me, she stood up.
I nodded.
It was another half an hour and a short bus ride before I wearily climbed the side stairs of the old victorian we called home. Five years ago, when my mom and I had first come to town, we’d been grateful to find the apartment. I had been ecstatic to see the pale blue antique with the peeling paint and lush garden. I’d never lived in a place with a garden before and imagined running on the grass and picking the bright flowers. The older couple who were renting out their upstairs apartment seemed kind and safe, and they had been as long as Marianne was alive. After her death, two years ago, Stan had become crotchety and mean. I was not allowed to sit in the garden anymore and every month he threatened us with eviction if our rent was even one day late. Our haven had become damned uncomfortable, and now we had no heat. But at least my belly was full, I counted my blessings as I unlocked the door.
Unfortunately, though, our apartment did not look as comfortable as I had imagined. My futon was folded up and there were cardboard boxes strewed randomly on the floor.
“Baby!” My mother rushed in from her bedroom, “You’re home!”
“Of course,” I said, “Where else would I be? What’s going on, Mom?”
My petite, blonde mother stood in the middle of the floor with her hands clasped.
“Hannah, we should sit.” She said.
“Where?” I asked.
“Umm,” she looked around, other than my futon, we only had one armchair which was full of my clothes. “Let’s go into the bedroom.” She finally said.
My heart sinking with dread, I followed her.
Her bed was also full of clothes and I saw she had been in the process of emptying her closet.
“Mom?” I asked, sinking on her floppy mattress, “What’s going on, are we moving?” I almost whispered. For the first three years after we had left my dad, we had moved every couple of months in fear that he would find us. Soon after we’d moved to Charlottesville, my uncle, my mom’s brother had informed us that someone finally had reported my father for assault and he was in prison for five years. According to my calculations, his sentence wouldn’t be over until March. I felt the familiar chilling of my blood as I asked my mother.
“Is he out?”
“No! No, at least I don’t think so.” My mother said as she moved a pile of pants into a cardboard box and sat next to me.
“You don’t have to worry about him, I’m pretty sure he won’t be able to find us after all this time.” She took my hands into hers.
“God, Hannah, your hands are as cold as ice!”
“It’s cold, Mom, it’s cold outside, and in here but you didn’t answer my question.”
“Okay,” she said taking a deep breath and clenching my fingers tightly in hers, “We’re moving out.”
“Why? Is Stan kicking us out, I can talk to him, did you not pay rent last month?”
She looked down at our hands and I felt the floor drop beneath me, “Yes,” she said, “But that’s not it,”
I stood up and pulled today’s tips from my back pocket. “I’m gonna go talk to him, I have some money and after these two weeks I’ll probably have the rest.”
“No, Hannah, listen!” She yelled. I stopped and stared at her.
“Don’t give him any more of your money, we are not going to live here anymore.”
“But where will we go, Mom?” I asked, there was nowhere in this town that I knew of, that was this cheap or this safe. Even though Stan was forever in a bad mood, my mother and I had never been afraid of him or anyone else in this neighborhood.
“Harry,” my mother was still speaking, “Harry has asked us to move in with him.” She said.
I plopped down next to her, “What do you mean? Mother, we can’t live with your boyfriend.”
“Why not, he has space, and he offered, I didn’t ask, I think this is serious, Hannah.”
“We can’t live with him because he lives on Cherry Hill!” I shout, “We don’t belong there!”
“Why not?’ She asked, “You know we weren’t always this poor, we’re just as good...”
“No, NO!” I interrupt her grabbing her hands in my own, “Mom, I’m not living with your boyfriend!”
“Don’t, don’t do this to me.” She said, almost in tears.
“Do what, I’m not doing anything!”
“I love him!” She cried, “I love him, and I want to give this a chan
ce.” She said calmer.
I couldn’t believe this. Yes, she’d been dating her prince for almost nine months now but this? I knew I wouldn’t survive in his house, with his criminal sons but most of all I didn’t believe my mother’s dream relationship would last.
“What happens when you break up?” I asked, pacing the small room.
“I have to believe we won’t, why won’t you believe me?” She said in a small childlike voice, my mother had always been phenomenal at playing the victim and she was doing it again.
“I can’t, Mom, I just can’t.” I didn’t think I was being cruel, just practical. One of us had to behave like an adult.
“I don’t, “ I still my body, standing in front of her, “I don’t want to live with your boyfriend. or his sons.” I said.
She sighed and looked up at me, “For me, Hannah? Please?” she begged.
“I just... I can’t right now.” I pushed my hair back with my fingers and walked out of the apartment. I didn’t want to see her again, not now. I was furious, how could she not understand? School was already hard enough and now my home was also gone? I paced the dark street. Even though the criminal activity rampant just a few blocks away hardly ever touched our neighborhood, it still wasn’t safe for me to be on the street at this time of night. But where could I go? I remembered Mandy’s offer and finally called her.
“Oh yeah, sure, we’ll pick you up. We’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” She said after I apologized for interrupting her date.
I looked up at the light in the window of our living room and texted my mother.
just going out with Mandy, will be back later. don’t worry.
For so many years, it had just been my mother and I looking out for each other and I knew she would worry.
Another ten minutes standing out in the cold night and a maroon sedan pulled up. Recognizing Peter’s car, I jumped in as soon as it stopped.
“Hey!!” Peter crooned from the front.
“Hey Peter,” I said unenthusiastically.
“Everything okay?” Mandy turned to look at me from the front.
I shook my head.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I got word of a happening party,” Peter said, oblivious to my mood. Mandy’s boyfriend was nice and had good intentions usually.
“Anywhere is fine,” I said and leaned back on the seat. My fatigue was catching up to me again and I knew I would need to collapse before long but right now I was too wound up to care.
I was so out of it, I didn’t notice where we were headed till he stopped the car in front on a wrought iron fence and huge mansion lit up with floodlights.
“Where are we?” I asked.
Mandy looked at me nervously as she stepped out of the car, “Don’t freak, okay?”
I could hear the low bass of the music blasting along with the shouts and screeches of teens from what I assumed was the back yard. The entire street in front of the giant house was clogged with parked cars.
“Why?” I asked looking up at the house.
“It’s the Westlake house,” Mandy said in a small voice.
I stood frozen.
“The most happening party in town!” Peter crooned as he came up and put an arm around Mandy’s shoulder.
I took one deep breath and another.
“We’ll just stay for a little bit, won’t we Peter?” Mandy asked.
“Sure, Babe. Whatever.” Peter said and started walking up the driveway.
Mandy looked back at me apprehensively. “Listen, there are so many people there, you won’t even see them.”
“No, it’s okay.” I said as I joined her and her boyfriend, “I gotta face them anyways.”
We walked into a large foyer with shiny marble floors. Mandy oohed as she looked up at the huge, glittering chandelier hanging from a ceiling too high to spot. Even though Mandy’s family was more comfortably well off than me, no one, no one I knew was as rich as the Westlakes.
As my friends walked through an arched opening into a crowded living room, I felt my body chill with apprehension. How could I ever live here? Could I ever walk down these spotless hallways casually? Barefoot even? This was not my life; I didn’t even watch TV shows with this kind of life. This was not me.
‘Temporary.’ I repeated to myself as I walked on. ‘Everything is temporary.’
I could endure anything as long as it was temporary, and life itself was temporary, right?
The noise and smells slammed into me as soon as I entered the crowded areas. The whole back part of this floor was open, a large kitchen on my left with gleaming white countertops was full of large, extremely tall men and a few colorfully dressed girls. That must be the basketball team. I assumed. The open living room on the right was likewise filled with teenagers of all sizes and colors, shouting, singing, laughing. This is what high school life was about. I knew it, logically, yet had never experienced it. Some faces I recognized but most I avoided. Mandy and Peter had disappeared somewhere in here, but I felt no urgent need to find them. Right now, I wanted to forget my life and if I guessed correctly, my memory loss should be found somewhere in the bottles in the kitchen. I trudged carefully through some giants and found myself at the island. A row of shots was lined up and five or six boys were enjoying them, congratulating each other loudly after each one. I saw an icebox with golden bottles of beer and snagged one. After chugging down half the bottle, I was feeling better. A little looser and a lot warmer, though that may have been because of all the bodies. The row of boys moved away, and a couple of girls slid closer to me.
“Hey, Hannah!” Avery Shelson smiled at me. I wondered if she was drunk since she’d never spoken to me at school.
“Hey,” I said back.
“Didn’t expect to see you here, do you know the Westlake boys?” she asked.
I pressed my lips together. “Just like anyone else in school,” I said.
“Oh yeah,” she sighed, I was pretty sure she was buzzed, “That Jacob is so hot, though.”
As soon as she said that the boy mentioned tumbled in with his burly friends.
“Thirsty!” he shouted.
“Hell, yeah! What’s in here?” He bumped me over and started looking through the icebox. I felt a warm body behind me and tried to not move.
“Just beer?” Jacob sounded disappointed.
“Hey look what I found?” the boy behind me said and I felt something brush my butt.
Jacob looked behind me with a smile.
“Money!” the boy behind me shouted.
No, no no! I turned. A dark-haired boy with a crew cut and a tank top was holding up my stash of tips.
“No!” I heard myself shout as he grinned and made to run away, “That’s mine!”
Before I knew it I had jumped on his back with one hand reaching for his and another pulling at his short, stubby hair.
“Give it back!” I yelled, he only laughed louder. I heard cheers around me and felt myself burning up.
“That’s my money, I worked for it!” I yelled, still clinging to his back as he twirled around.
“Yeah, doing what, whoring?” the punk called.
“AAgh!” I screamed and pulled my nails over his neck.
“Shit, get her off!” He yelled and suddenly one thick arm came around my waist and the other held and pulled my hand off his face and I was pulled away.
“Let me go, that’s my money!” I said turning around to face an unamused Jacob Westlake. He stared at me a moment.
“Enough Molsky, give it back.” He said in his deep voice.
I turned around and the boy was standing with my money out and a hand feeling the scratches I’d left on his neck. I grabbed the cash and tried to count it with shaking hands.
“Like a wildcat, better than my last girlfriend.” My tormentor said, “Do you want to find a bedroom and give me more of these? I’ll pay you double.” he said, and his friends laughed.
I walked away wishing I’d counted my tips better so I could tell if I was
missing any. My body was shaking and all I wanted to do was cry. I found a closed door and opening it entered a deep, dark pantry.
“Hey,” a deep voice said behind me, “You okay?”
I blinked rapidly to keep tears from falling and turned around. Jacob Westlake was standing at the doorway holding on the lintel with both hands, the light from the kitchen shining behind him.
I clenched the cash to my chest and looked at him, not answering. For a minute we both just stood there in the dark, the noise and light at a distance and just breathed.
“I have to leave.” I finally said.
“No, listen, he’s just being an asshole. He’s not...I’m not...no one will bother you.” He seemed sorry.
“I don’t want to be here.” was all I managed to say.
He exhaled, “Okay, listen, come with me, no one will bother you, no one will touch you. Just somewhere quiet where you can wait till your ride is here.” He let go and walked further into the long room. I stepped back.
“My ride is already here,” I said.
“Okay, then. Who?”
I closed my eyes and shook my head, “Never mind, quiet will be good.”
He nodded and turned around. I followed him. No one talked to me or touched me. It was as if I was in a cocoon created by his shadow. It was not a bad place to be, I thought as I stared at his wide back covered by a light blue polo shirt.He walked through the kitchen and up a narrow stairway then down a long dark hallway. There were people even up here. I looked down over a railing and saw an indoor pool filled with girls in bikinis. How large was this place?
Finally, he turned to the left, opened a couple of carved, wooden doors, and led me into a bedroom. I followed him and froze when I saw the huge bed.
“I’m not...” I said in a hurry.
“I know,” he smirked, “That’s not why, you think I wanna?” and then he laughed.
I frowned.
“You think I’d seduce a scaredy-cat like you to get some pussy?” he leaned close and trailed his finger down my cheek, I shook my head and moved away.
“If I want pussy, I’ve got more than enough downstairs.”
I huffed. He laughed again. Jacob Westlake, despite being a criminal and a class A asshole was also damned good looking. Just a little shy of six feet he was lean and muscled like all the jocks, add to that light brown hair with blond highlights, a chiseled jaw, and dark green eyes and he had the female population of the whole town eating from his hands. Yet, I, the freak that I was had never felt an ounce of attraction for him.