I take off my clothes and put on a T-shirt and sleep pants, removing my ponytail and brushing my hair out. I gaze at myself in the mirror and wonder if I look different because I sure feel different. I can still feel him on my lips, and I run my fingertips over them. Then I remember and grab my backpack off the floor, taking out the notebook and flipping it to the page he wrote on. I like his writing, it’s small and neat. I fold the paper and reach for my closet door, opening it and reaching up to the shelf above my clothes, my hands searching back for the shoebox I keep my private things in. I open it and see a photo of me and my brother and sister as kids laying on top, my fingers running over their faces before I lift it up and tuck the paper beneath it. I fall asleep with Joey’s face behind my eyes, dreaming of a future I know we won’t have.
Chapter 2
I’m woken up by my door flying open and hitting the wall, I sit up and instantly my heart’s racing. My dad’s standing there, face red, knuckles white as he clutches a belt in one hand. My mom is behind him yelling some nonsense and I know she’s drunk, I can tell by how bright my room is that it’s early afternoon, which means they’ve both been drinking for hours. I bring my knees up as he just looks at me, cheeks puffing as he breathes hard, teeth bared as he looks over at my mom and swings the belt in her direction.
“Shut up!” he yells and she misses the belt by a fraction.
“You let her go out in that shirt last night, you think she went to the library?!” Mom says.
My stomach sinks, because for whatever reason, my mom likes when my dad gets mad at me. She will say something about me to him, in this case the shirt, and how could he let me leave that way and not say anything. So, Dad gets mad and she fuels the fire. It’s like she gets some kick out of seeing him treat me like this.
“What did you do last night?!” he hollers at me, pointing his index finger of his other hand toward me.
“I went to the library,” I tell him, my face etching with panic because I know no matter what I say, it won’t matter.
“She changed her shirt, she was looking at herself in the mirror, who does that for going to the library?” Mom questions.
My eyes connect with hers, and sometimes I wish she would be like a normal mother, defending and protecting me. But she never does. He moves closer, hand tightening on the leather of the belt, finger still pointing at me.
“I went to the library,” my voice breaking as I plead.
“You wanna be a whore like your sister!” Mom yells, still hovering in the doorway.
“No daughter of mine is going to get knocked up by some punk again,” Dad states.
“She’s worse than Ashley, I can see it in her eyes…she gives guys the look they want, opens her legs for anyone I’m sure,” Mom adds and I see my dad snap.
He pulls the thin cover over my legs down and begins hitting me with the belt, even with pants on, it hurts. My legs are still sensitive, unlike my back, because he’s just recently starting beating me here. I scream and pull my legs away, trying to give him my back because I can handle that. But he knows I can. Even as he tries to move me, to uncurl my body, I fall to the floor and tuck my body into itself. He turns the belt and begins smacking with the thick metal buckle. The leather curls over my sides and shoulders. It burns and stings, but I’m able to shut myself down, going somewhere in my head that protects me from this. They’re both screaming at me, but I hear nothing, I feel nothing, I am nothing.
***
That following Friday evening, I’m sitting in the Bannister library. I’m working on calculus, well trying to. I’m wearing jeans, a tank top, a T-shirt, and a cardigan in eighty-degree weather. We’ve had a pre-summer heat wave and I’m roasting. I’m used to dressing like this in the summer, but it still doesn’t get easier. My butt hurts from sitting, not only from the welts but because I’ve been here since right after school. Dad called the librarian the Monday after meeting Joey and the party and told them to expect me at three fifteen every day, and if I was a minute late to call him.
It’s after seven and my dad’s coming to get me at nine, just like he has every night. I’ve been doing this all week, and although I’m getting a lot done, it makes me tired just sitting here in the silence. But the alternative is to be at home, and I’d rather be here. My eyes are glued to the book in front of me when I hear a chair pull out from across the large wooden table I’m sitting at. I don’t look up, but rather, pull my sleeves over my hands and set them on either side of the book.
“You haven’t called.”
My head shoots up, eyes wide. Joey’s sitting there, he’s in a white T-shirt, his muscles bulging as he too rests his forearms on the table.
“What are you doing here?” I ask in a whisper.
“I came to see you,” he states in obviousness.
I can’t believe he’s here, that he came here to see me.
“Why?” I whisper.
He looks at me like I forgot the words we exchanged the night he kissed me. But no, I haven’t forgotten, his words replay in my head every day, and every night they’re my lullaby.
“You said you’d call me, you didn’t, so this is the only place I knew you might come to,” he states with a lift of his shoulder.
“I…I’ve been stuck here all week,” I whisper and look over my shoulder at the librarian who’s looking at me. “Wait five seconds and then come on,” I say as I close my book and stand and he looks up at me with confusion.
I smile at the librarian and walk over to the stacks, stopping as I hide from her line of sight. Joey must understand because he stands and moves over to a different row down from me and I walk to the end to meet him on the other side. Seeing him is like fresh air, like another life, happiness and all things possible. When we get close enough, he takes my hand and kisses the top of it. I bite my lower lip to stifle the cheesy grin I know is threatening to come.
“Did you lose my number?” he teases, his brown eyes twinkling as he tucks hair behind my ear that’s come loose from my ponytail.
“No.”
If he only knew that I’ve memorized his number forward and backward.
“I just don’t have any private time at my house,” I tell him.
“You could call me from here, there’s payphones by the door,” he offers.
“My dad has the librarian making sure I’m studying,” I sigh.
I can’t explain how his eagerness for me to call lights me up inside.
“So I guess I’ll have to come here every day to see you.”
His tone is low and seductive, his eyes watching my lips as they part and inhale sharply.
“You don’t have to do that,” I reply.
“If it means I get to see you, I’ll do it,” his voice still intimate as he tucks hair behind the other ear, then runs his thumb down my cheek to my lower lip.
My eyes drop to his lips and I want nothing more than to lean in and kiss him, so I do. Softly I graze his mouth with mine, once, twice, before adding the slightest pressure. He hums and cups my neck, his thumbs running along my jawbone. Someone clears their throat and we pull away, my head turning to see a man sitting in a chair by the windows, reading a newspaper and looking at us disapprovingly over his reading glasses. I mouth ‘sorry,’ and look back to Joey who’s still looking at me with lust filled eyes, lips still parted and hands still on me. I reach up and take his hands, leading him to another aisle, this time checking to make sure we’re alone. Instantly, our lips are connected again, his hands on my ribs as I wrap my arms around his neck.
“I need to see you,” he mumbles between kisses.
“You’re seeing me now,” I breathe out.
“No, beautiful,” he stops and pulls back, looking down at me. “Take you out, go somewhere-”
“I told you I can’t do those things,” I cut him off.
He looks down at my neck, his fingers running across the bare skin above my shirt.
“Aren’t you hot wearing all this?” he asks, finally noticing my
clothing.
I drop my arms and cross them over my mid-section.
“It’s freezing in here,” I state, which it’s so not.
He looks at me like he knows I’m lying, but I won’t tell him the reason.
“Do you really have studying to do?” he asks.
“No.” I smile at the topic change.
“So, we can just hang out here then.”
We sit at the same table across from one another, pretending to read books sitting in front of us. Instead, we write notes back and forth to one another, and he does his best to try and make me laugh. I look up at the clock and see it’s almost time for my dad to be here and I write that to him, he replies with ‘bathroom,’ then gets up and leaves the table. I gather my things and take my time, not wanting to let the librarian see that I’m going after him. When I zip my bag up, I put it on my shoulder and wince at the pain there from the belt buckle.
“Goodnight,” I say quietly to the librarian as I pass by, giving a small wave.
“Goodnight, dear,” she replies.
I walk past her towards the ladies’ room just on the other side of the desk, thankfully there’s a small hallway so she doesn’t see Joey standing there waiting for me. I give him a wide smile as he takes my hand and leads me into the men’s room. A rush of excitement floods me as we step in and he checks to make sure it’s clear before he’s removing the straps of my backpack and the thud from it hitting the floor echoes in the small space. Then he’s guiding me against the back of the door, and locking the knob at my side.
He kisses me like he did in the stacks and I open my mouth for him this time, allowing our tongues to slip and slide with one another. The feeling he gives me is so out of body, when I’m with him I forget everything. My life isn’t mine, my reality doesn’t exist, it’s just him, all of it is him. A moan escapes my throat, and I feel my eyes begin to burn, because I want this so badly to be my reality. I want so badly to be able to be with him, and kiss him like this whenever I want. Then, the beeping of my alarm on my wristwatch goes off and we both stop our mouths.
“I’m going to throw that thing away someday,” he says with a sigh.
I turn it off and run my hands through my hair, pulling the elastic band from the back, and letting my long brown hair down. He watches me, then lifts a hand to run his fingers through the tendrils.
“You should wear your hair down,” he tells me, “but maybe not, I don’t want every guy interested in you.”
A laugh is right there, but the way he looks at me brings sincerity to his words.
“I’ll only wear it down for you,” I tell him, and watch his eyes light up.
“Same time tomorrow?” he asks.
I redo my ponytail. “Has anyone told you you’re stubborn before?” I ask.
“All the time,” he says confidently.
“I bet,” I comment, reaching down for my bag on the ground.
“Being stubborn is what’s going to make you mine, beautiful.”
Chapter 3
Being stubborn is what got me to be Joey’s, he was right about that. Every day he met me at the library, week after week. I assume the librarian didn’t tell my dad about it since I was able to go there still. We’d sneak off to kiss sometimes, but we mostly talked. It was strange having a relationship with a guy where I felt I could tell him everything. Granted I didn’t have any females in my life to do that with, and since the night I met Joey, Nancy started seeing someone she met there also so she’s been MIA.
Even though we shared so much, I didn’t tell him about my scars. It was something I wasn’t sure how he would take. Getting to know him over these past few weeks, I know if I told him, he’d do everything he could to get me out of there. And although it seems like a good idea, I just wasn’t ready to rock the boat with my parents. Joey also didn’t know where I lived, and that was part of it too. I didn’t want him to get mad if he knew what my dad did, and show up there and kick his ass or something.
I know that seems like a fairytale, we all know fairytales aren’t real. I just needed to keep it from him for a little longer. School was almost out for the year, and it worried me that we wouldn’t be able to meet up every day. I knew my parents would probably send me to the library all day, but I didn’t want to subject Joey to being stuck there with me all summer.
But something monumental is happening today. My class is taking a trip to Washington DC for six days, my parents have signed the paper allowing me to go. I looked into it and my history teacher told me that students not going, are to report to the school library, unsupervised, having no assignment because it’s the last week of school which is a blow off. I’ve never missed school and would be the only student not going, so my teacher said he trusted me and that I wouldn’t need to sign in. I mentioned this to Joey, thinking we could spend the afternoons together, and I’d figure out what I’d do while Joey was at school and at night since my parents would think I was out of time.
“Come to my house,” he tells me from across the table.
“I can’t do that,” I whisper.
“Why not?”
“Uh, won’t your parents be mad?” I ask.
He gives me a look and shakes his head. “You’ve obviously never met my parents,” he comments.
“So, just come and stay with you?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Don’t you have school?”
“It’s the last week of classes, no one cares,” he states.
“Joey,” I scold.
“Katie,” he mocks. “If you don’t want to, just say that, we can find somewhere for you to go at night, Maven stays with her grandma most nights in a mansion, she’d let you sleep there.”
I sigh and look down, debating my options. His hands move towards me, placing them over mine.
“I won’t be offended if you don’t want to stay with me-”
“I will,” I rush out, “I want to come stay with you.”
I look up at him, his eyes meeting mine and a wide grin dazzles me.
My parents drop me off at the school, my classmates milling around saying goodbye to their parents with hugs and kisses alongside two school busses parked out front of the school.
“There’s enough to eat,” Dad tells me handing me some cash in an envelope.
“Thank you,” I say and take it, putting it in my back pocket.
I look around at the loving families and then at my parents standing a good two feet from me.
“Have a good trip, kiddo,” Dad says and then turns to my mom and they head for the car.
The good thing about being unknown at school, is I have no one calling after me as I walk around the crowd towards the back of the school once my parents leave. I have my backpack and a small suitcase I wheel behind me on the cement as I walk to the back parking lot. When I see Joey leaning against a red classic car, arms folded and his body looking amazing wearing a white ribbed tank top and jeans, my heart begins to flutter.
The smile that spreads over his lips as he sees me approaching just about stops my heart. He pushes away from the car and heads toward me, the sound of his boots growing louder the closer he gets, and I have to stop myself from running to him. When he gets to me, I let go of my suitcase and he lifts me up his big body to hug me. I giggle and wrap my arms around him, his arms strong and holding me like I’m as light as a feather. When he finally puts me back on my feet, he cups my face and gives me a kiss.
“Okay lover boy, we should probably get off the school property,” I tell him.
He leans back and smiles. “I’m just so fucking stoked for this.”
I love how easily he can verbalize what I feel, and isn’t afraid to put it out there.
“Me too,” I reply and grab my suitcase, which he takes from me and we begin walking.
“Is this your car?” I ask.
“No, it’s my dad’s…I knew you’d have too much stuff to fit on my bike.”
I hadn’t thought of that. He hurries around to th
e passenger side and opens the door for me, and I get in, tucking my backpack onto my lap. He closes the door and then opens the back door behind me to put my luggage in. Coming around to the driver’s side, he gets in and turns on the ignition. The engine roars to life, and it’s loud as hell. He revs the engine a few times and looks over at me, his smile almost like a child with excitement, and I can’t help but return it. He then turns on the radio and “Self Control” by Laura Branigan comes blasting through the speakers. My smile widens because he knows my type of music, and I let out a little shriek when he hits the gas and the tires squeal.
The drive to Plantain is twenty minutes or so, but the way Joey drives, and the anticipation inside me, has us there in under fifteen. He turns down “Kiss Is On My List” by Hall and Oates as we enter the residential area, and my eyes drink in all the beauty of the town. I’ve never been here before, but this is a historical place and all the houses are phenomenal. My eyes land on a two story brick house as we pull into the driveway. The flowerbeds are filled with colorful hydrangea and a walkway that leads to the massive wooden front door. Trees line one side of the driveway, shading it from the early morning sun.
I see a motorcycle parked beside the house and Joey pulls up next to it, and in front of a large three car garage. Killing the engine, he gets out and hurries over to get the door I’ve already started to open. He takes my backpack and closes the door as I gaze up at this beautiful home in awe. He retrieves my suitcase from the back and leads me to the side door in front of us, turning the unlocked handle and pushing it in, using his foot to keep the storm door open for me until I put my hand on it.
We enter at a landing, steps leading down to a darkened space, I assume is the basement, while three steps to our left lead up. Joey goes up and I follow, walking into a gleaming white kitchen. Everything is updated and clean, a far cry from my own house. I glance around as Joey continues to walk, leading us through and into a room in the front of the house.
Take On Me: Plantain Series Book Three Page 3