by Danica Avet
“So what’s wrong?” I ask casually. Her eyes widen guilelessly. I almost laugh. “My little sister makes the same face when she’s tryin’ to get outta trouble.”
Some of the tragedy lightens. “You have a little sister?”
I nod. “Erika. She’s fifteen now and she’s a holy terror.” But she’s got us all wrapped around her finger and none of us mind. “How about you?” I ask, thinking it might distract her to talk about her family. “You have any brothers or sisters?”
Jolene’s face crumples. The tip of her nose turns pink and I catch the sheen of tears before she looks away. Fuck.
But she pulls it together with a tremulous smile. “There are six of us.” Her chuckle is almost amused, although it falls short. “Delia’s older than me, then there’s Lucille, Jeanie Marie, Ruby, and Maggie Mae.”
I blink. “The guys back home must be in hog heaven with all those pretty girls running around,” I say jokingly, but it has a huge effect on Jolene whose face goes stark white.
“Why would you say that?” she whispers.
Okay, that’s fucking weird. “Peaches, you have to know you’re beautiful. I’m sure your sisters are too. I’m just saying with so many pretty girls, the boys in your hometown must be all over y’all like white on rice. That’s all.”
Her gaze drops as her lips do this strange twist. “Yeah, I guess you could you say they are.”
She doesn’t expound on that. I want to push for more, go over there and hug her, but everything about her posture screams stay away so I just continue talking to her, hoping I can find out what made her cry.
“So were you cryin’ ʼcause you miss your family?” I hedge a guess.
She’s staring down at her hands, but I see the way her lips quiver, the way her chin wobbles. But she shocks me when she shakes her head. “No,” she whispers. Then she lifts her gaze to meet mine. “No, I don’t miss my family.” She laughs, but it’s hard and painful sounding. “Isn’t that horrible? I don’t miss them at all.”
My gut clenches at the shame and misery in her voice.
“What happened?” I ask softly.
She gives a watery chuckle. “What always happens with family. Drama.”
Jolene doesn’t say anything more and although I want to push, demand she tell me what’s really going on, I respect her decision not to talk. She needs to just forget about whatever happened, get her mind off of it and onto something else and while I wouldn’t mind kissing her—and doing a lot more in the name of sexual healing—that isn’t what she needs.
So I do what a good friend would do and suggest, “Why don’t we watch some TV?”
Her smile is timid and grateful. It makes me want to go out and slay fucking dragons for her. Not just any dragons though. Her dragons. The ones that make her look so sad and hurt. I want to make her smile with happiness, not gratefulness.
God, I’m a fucking sucker for this girl.
Jolene
I know it’s a dream, or rather a memory, but I can’t seem to wake myself up.
I’m ten years old again.
Atlanta is much bigger than Pepper Ridge or any of the other smaller towns we’ve been to on the pageant circuit and I’m so excited I can barely contain myself. Only Mama’s severe frowns and admonishments to hold still and act like a lady keep me from craning my neck left and right as we walk out of the auditorium where the event will be held.
“You’re gonna win,” she says softly, granting a fake smile at another mama with her daughter. She turns away from the woman, her eyes a little hard and scary. “The cash prize is ten thousand dollars. Do you know what we could do with that kind of money?”
“Move away from Pepper Ridge,” I tell her dutifully.
That’s been Mama’s greatest dream since I can remember. I don’t blame her though. People aren’t nice to her, or any of us, in Pepper Ridge for some reason. Even Daddy isn’t nice to her although he’s nice to me and Delia.
“That’s right,” she says firmly, tweaking my hair. I hold perfectly still. “And there’s a modeling contract as well. You’re gonna win this pageant and we’re gonna get out of Georgia.” She nods at my appearance and turns to lead the way down the street. “Now I know this is different than the other pageants, bigger, but you’re the prettiest girl in the whole state of Georgia so it’ll be easy.”
“Okay, Mama.” I’m barely paying attention to what she’s saying.
All these people! They’re everywhere. And they aren’t staring at us like we’re poo on their shoes. Someone jostles me. Well, they aren’t very nice either, I think, but hurry to catch up to Mama.
There are men staring at her, but then men are always staring at Mama or me and Delia. It’s nothing new. Mama’s pretty and men like her. Daddy says men like her too much, but she just laughs at that. I know it’s true though because when Daddy goes away—which happens a lot more than ever—there are always men coming over. Some of them I recognize from Pepper Ridge, but there are others who dress a lot fancier than anyone in town.
I almost catch up with her when I see her bump into an older man wearing a very important looking expression. It almost looks like she does it on purpose because she somehow falls in his arms, her top dipping low on her chest. Mama’s got big boobies and the older man notices because he can’t take his eyes off them even when she straightens her clothes.
“I am so sorry,” Mama breathes, fluttering her hands as though she wants to fix his tie. “I’m just the clumsiest thing.”
“Please, it’s my fault,” the man says, his eyes finally moving from Mama’s chest to her face, then to me. “Who do we have here?”
“Oh, this is my daughter, Jolene. She’s here to compete in the Georgia Junior Glamor Girls pageant.”
The man nods. “It’s lovely to meet you, I’m actually one of the judges of the pageant.”
“Well, I’ll be. I didn’t know the judges were so handsome,” Mama breathes, her eyelashes fluttering.
Hours later, after dinner with the judge, we’re back in our hotel room. We’re not staying at the same place as the pageant because we can’t afford it, but I don’t mind. Sometimes the other girls in the contest can be mean if you’re around them too long. And their mamas can be even worse.
I’m in my nightgown with my face washed, hair and teeth brushed, ready for bed when there’s a knock on the door. I frown and look at Mama who’s been fluffing up her hair. She’s normally in her pajamas before I am, but tonight she looks ready to go out.
But she doesn’t. She gives herself another check in the mirror before turning to me.
“Jolene, I need you to go in the bathroom and stay in there until I tell you to come out,” she tells me sternly. “Do not come out until I say so, ya hear?”
I get off the bed we’re sharing and shuffle to the bathroom. I’ve learned not to cross Mama when she gets that look on her face. She doesn’t take the switch to me often because she’s worried about leaving marks, but I’ve seen her beat the tar out of Delia when my sister doesn’t move fast enough for her.
“Yes, ma’am,” I murmur. Another knock on the door distracts me. “Who’s here, Mama?”
“You don’t worry about that. Mama’s just makin’ sure everything goes the way it’s supposed to this week. Now go and mind what I said.”
Confused, but knowing better than to dawdle, I close myself in the bathroom. I stand there in the dark listening as Mama opens the hotel room door. A man asks a question which she answers with a laugh.
I shuffle my bare feet. I don’t like this bathroom. I don’t like this at all. It feels bad.
There are strange sounds on the other side of the door. They’re soft and my ears strain to listen. I wrinkle my nose. It almost sounds like when Jeanie Marie sucks her thumb. Strange. Then the springs on the mattress squeak once, then twice. There’s a groan or something.
I press my ear to the door. Mama says something, laughing in a way that makes me feel a little sick, and the mattress starts squeaki
ng more. She starts moaning like she hurts and the man does too.
She starts making these little cries, sharp and loud, and I know he’s hurting her. She’s not perfect and sometime she dresses more like some of the girls in high school do, but she’s my mama and I can’t let someone hurt her.
Ignoring what she told me, I throw open the door and rush out of the bathroom to see a man on top of Mama, his skinny, naked butt bouncing up and down. Mama’s legs and arms are moving all around like she’s havin’ a fit, but she’s still making those hurt sounds.
“Stop! Stop hurting her!” I scream as loud as I can.
The man looks at me and it’s the judge from the pageant. His face is all sweaty and red and as soon as he sees me, he shouts, rolling off of Mama and falling off the bed. I can’t stop screaming at him as he starts to get dressed and Mama tells him it’s okay. But it’s not okay. I just want him to leave us alone.
Mama leaps off the bed and slaps me across the face. “Shut up, Jolene Harlee,” she snarls, naked as a jaybird. “Shut up right now.” I stare up at her, my hand to my cheek but she isn’t paying me any attention. She’s turning to the man who’s stuffing his shirt in his pants. “Simon, it’s okay. She’ll go back in the bathroom and we can—”
But he ignores her, stumbling out of the room without looking at either of us.
Mama spins around as soon as the door closes and I’ve never seen her so angry in my whole ten years. Not even when she found Delia playing doctor with Travis from next door. Without their clothes on.
“Do you have any idea what you just did? You just cost us the pageant,” she seethes, her fingers clenching and unclenching at her sides. “You just cost us ten thousand dollars!”
The dream changes as does Mama, who goes from pretty to older, her jaw drooping, fine lines radiating around her eyes. Her voice changes too, becoming deeper, raspier. Slurred and bitter. Time turned ugly and tired across her skin, looking the same way she did the day I left home eight months ago.
“I hate you. I hate all of you ungrateful little bitches. I sacrificed everything for my girls and what do they do? They leave me and they don’t respect me. And you? You’re the worst of all. I gave you everything and you can’t even be bothered to come home to see your Mama for Christmas? Because you’re too busy pretendin’ to be better than you are.
“You think those pageant dresses were free, Jolene Harlee? You think those pretty shoes you wore were cheap? They weren’t. Milo Andrews made sure I worked for every penny those things cost. On my knees, on my back, I did what I had to so you would win those crowns and you did. You were my hope to get us all out of here, but did you do what I asked you to one time? No. You didn’t stay where you were supposed to. You would’ve had the crown and the cash prize. Enough money to move us all out of Pepper Ridge, but you couldn’t do what you were told, could you?
“You’re the reason your daddy left, and never came back, did you know that? He found out about Milo, about the pageants, and left me with a passel of ungrateful little brats who can’t even be bothered to take care of their mama now that they all think their shit don’t smell. But guess what? Y’all are gonna learn just like I did. Delia’s already there, did you know? Your precious Allen got her pregnant and then took off for Georgia State again.
“And you’re next, Jolene Harlee. You’ll be comin’ home with your belly full of baby and a sob story, but guess what? I won’t have time for you the same way you don’t have time for me.”
Old memories and a recent conversation blur together until they’re one and the same, the ugly words and accusations in a slurred voice following me from sleep to wakefulness. Opening my eyes, I see the first light of dawn streaking across the winter sky. Normally, I’d bounce out of bed with the excitement of seeing a new place so different from where I grew up, but I don’t move.
I hurt and this is much, much worse than any pain my boyfriends dealt when I found out they were just using me, beyond the humiliation and embarrassment I felt after breaking up with Josef, or even after a confrontation with Kimber. Because those words spewed in my ear for forty-five minutes were from my mother. The person who’s supposed to love you no matter what. But for me and my sisters, our mama is perhaps our greatest critic. But not in a loving way.
A sigh and a light snore ruffles the hair on the back of my neck and I go stock still, eyes wide. There’s someone in my bed. Doing a quick survey of my body, I can tell I’m still wearing my ensemble uniform although I must’ve kicked my shoes off at some point. More aware now than I was when I first woke up, I hear the soft murmur of the television in the background and the rest of my evening comes back to me.
Crash stayed with me watching some seventies detective show. We didn’t speak about personal things the rest of the night, just made funny comments about the clothes the actors wore. I kept expecting him to bail on me, take off for the bar, or head back to his room, but we must’ve fallen asleep before he could do that.
And now he’s pressed up against me, every hard muscle in his body plastered to my curves like we’re two spoons in a drawer, his arm draped over my waist with a warm, comforting weight. I’ve slept with Josef many times, but only after we had sex. There were no nights of cuddling just to cuddle, or nights of him holding me for any reason other than to get ready to have sex. But Crash did that last night. He hugged me to make me feel better, not himself. And he’s holding me now as though I’m the most precious thing in his world.
“Mornin’,” he mumbles into my nape, his warm breath leaving goosebumps behind. Lord have mercy, but his voice is all raspy and deep, rough. He squeezes my waist, making me very aware of how close his arm is to my breasts. “What time is it?”
Eyes wide, I peer at the clock next to the bed. “Um, six-thirty.”
He groans, the sound rumbling from his chest through my back. He cuddles even closer—which I didn’t think was possible—curling himself into me like I’m a body pillow. “M’kay, we can sleep another hour before we have to catch the shuttle to the airport.”
I blink at the window, the weak sunlight a little brighter. Or maybe that’s just my interpretation of the morning. I don’t feel as alone as I did when I first woke up, as though I have to bear the brunt of Mama’s disappointment all by myself. Sure, I didn’t tell Crash anything more than that there was drama—and Lord, is there drama—but he didn’t brush me off, didn’t act as though it meant nothing. He stayed with me and did it without expecting anything in return.
I should be horrified he slept here. We’re friends and as far as I know, friends don’t spoon, but I’m not freaking out. I feel...comforted. Of course it’s probably nothing for him. But for me, it’s priceless.
His soft snores resume, telling me he’s gone back to sleep. But I don’t close my eyes and I don’t move because I want to savor every second of this. When a boy held me without trying to get in my panties. And maybe it’s that security that has my eyes drifting closed, sleep claiming me again.
Levi
I don’t go back to sleep, but Jolene does and I just enjoy the moment. I’ve never actually slept with a girl before. Sure, if we’re in a bed or on a flat surface, I cuddle with them before we go our separate ways, but I’ve never spent a whole night wrapped around a girl and I think I’ve been missing out. Or maybe not. Maybe it’s just her because she is the perfect armful of sweet-smelling softness.
I bury my nose in her hair and breathe deep. I want nothing more than to roll her over, wake her up with some kisses, and find out what else on her smells good, but she isn’t ready for that. I’m hopeful though. Because she asked me to stay last night.
Who knew watching a marathon of Rockford Files would turn into a slumber party with the girl of my dreams? I sure as shit didn’t, but if that’s what it takes to get her in my arms, I’ll take it and stock up on other shows she might want to watch. Maybe Matlock? My Nana likes that one.
I want to stay right here in this bed with her forever. I can’t though. The others w
ill start stirring, in various stages of hangovers, soon. I don’t want them to see me sneaking out of Jolene’s room. I respect her too much for her to become the object of gossip. Besides, if someone did say something, I’d have to hurt them.
So I reluctantly pull away from her, but I don’t go far. I brace myself on one hand to just watch her sleep. Beautiful. Rosy-cheeked, long eyelashes fanning over her cheekbones, lips pursed as though waiting for a kiss, she looks like a princess. My princess. And she has dragons that need slaying.
I’m not a knight in shining armor. Far from it, but I would fight for her and I plan to. Even if the only dragons I’m fighting are the ones in her mind.
Unable to resist the temptation, I lean over and kiss those lips. Just a little brush of skin to skin contact, but my dick leaps as though we’re about to score. Morning wood combined with the temptation of Jolene means I’m harder than a steel pipe and it’s almost impossible to stop with that stolen kiss. Somehow I manage though, dragging myself out of her bed before I do something stupid to ruin my chances of being with her for more than one night. Or morning, I think with a glance out the window.
She murmurs something, turning over and throwing her arm across the bed as though looking for me. Maybe? My heart skips when she frowns. She misses me without even realizing it.
It’s a start. Now I just have to step up my game and Jolene will be mine.
Three hours later, we’re sitting around the terminal at the airport, waiting for our flight. As I guessed, the guys are so hungover, they don’t even blink when I stroll over to where Jolene’s sitting. We have another thirty minutes before our flight starts to board, so I decide to use my time wisely, put my rusty wooing skills to the test.
Jolene looks up the instant my ass hits the seat to her right. She’s got a textbook open and I peer at it to see photos of paintings. I grimace. “Fine Arts Appreciation?”
Her smile is all sweetness. “Yeah, I actually like it.”