“I’m seriously going to have nightmares tonight. Thanks,” she said, smacking my stomach playfully and laughing once the movie rolled on to a calmer scene.
“I can stay with you tonight…if you want me to,” I said, glancing down into her bright eyes and praying she’d say yes.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
JULIE
He’d said the words with such seriousness that my heart rate spiked a little and I wondered if he could tell what he was doing to me tonight. How hard he was making things.
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” I said, shifting my gaze back toward the TV, but not really seeing it anymore.
“Why not? It’ll be like old times. I’ll go home, that way mom will think I’m there, and sneak out to come back over. I’ll even climb up that old maple tree beside your window like I used to. I could use an extra workout,” he insisted.
I remembered how many times he’d done that in the past. How many times he’d crept into my open bedroom window in the middle of the night because he wanted to make sure I was safe from the boyfriend of the week or the party my mom was throwing or simply because his dad was in another one of his moods and he was afraid he’d come for him again. It had all been innocent and safe. I wasn’t sure I could say the same about it now.
“I don’t know,” I repeated.
“Why is this time any different?” he asked.
I could feel his eyes on me, lulling words that I’d rather leave unspoken to the tip of my tongue. I shifted my eyes to meet his and realized my mistake, but it was too late. I’d already locked with his stare and noticed the almost dare swirling within the deep green and honey brown for me to answer him honestly.
“It just is,” I insisted.
“Bullshit,” he said, setting the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.
“What?” I asked, surprised by his outburst.
“I’m calling bullshit.” He shifted his body to face mine and stared hard at me. “Why is this time any different, Jules? Tell me.”
My chest flamed red and I could feel the exact moment when the color reached all the way up to my face. “It just is, Nick; we’re older. We’re not little kids anymore.”
“Bullshit again. That’s not why it’s different now. It’s different now because you like me and you know that I like you.” He was so confident in his words. So sure of himself, of his feelings. It was almost like we’d been playing a game and now he’d grown tired of it.
I shook my head and refused to look at him, especially his eyes, because he’d know my next words were a flat-out lie. “No, that’s not why.”
“Isn’t it? Admit it, Jules.”
I hesitated, gathering strength, before I tilted my head to look up at him, ready to deny my feelings verbally instead of just inside my head in the hopes that this would make me believe them finally and not just him, but the second I tilted my head up, Nick’s lips pressed against mine. My heart stopped and my breath caught in my throat as Nick continued to brush his lips across mine, urging me to react. To kiss him back.
Warmth spilled through my stomach and I closed my eyes, allowing myself to become lost in the moment. My lips moved beneath his skilled ones with ease. His hands cupped my face and his kisses grew slower, softer, before he pulled away.
“That’s why, Jules, because you know there’s something between us.” He breathed across my lips, and then pulled away a little more to look me directly in the eyes.
“You’re right,” I admitted in a whisper, finally allowing myself to feel everything that I’d kept bottled up for months now. It was like it had all been pulled out of me with each sweep of his lips against mine and I didn’t have the will power to bury it back down somewhere inside of me anymore. I was exhausted from trying to hide my feelings from myself…from Nick.
A slow smile stretched across his face and he leaned in to kiss me again, this time a little more eager. I felt his tongue gently slide across my lips and I parted them, allowing him the entrance to my mouth that I presumed he wanted from the gesture. I was glad that I had, because it allowed me to taste him, to submerge myself in him. Something I’d wanted to do for what felt like a lifetime.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
NICK
“So you guys are like an official item now, huh?” Blake asked me Monday afternoon during lunch.
“Yeah, I guess so.” I grinned as I replied.
“She’s hot,” Quiet Tom said with a slight nod of his head just before taking a large bite of his taco.
“That she is,” I agreed. Words could not describe how stoked I was that Jules and I were now together.
Emily tossed a fruit roll-up onto the table and opened her Dr Pepper as she sat down across from me. “Is what I heard from Tiffany true?” she asked me directly, her tone sounding a little clipped.
“Depends on what you heard,” I said.
“That you and Julie are together now.”
“Yep, you heard right.” I smiled, unable to hide my pride.
“You hurt her and I’ll mess you up,” she said with a seriousness about her that made me wipe the smile off my face.
“I have no doubt.” And I didn’t. I’d always figured the girl probably had a crazy streak in her.
“Good, dude, ‘cuz she will,” Blake said just as serious, affirming my theory.
“Duly noted,” I replied, trying to hide my smirk. Wow.
“Anyone down for a party this weekend?” Emily asked, all seriousness evaporating from her eyes and excitement entering.
“Where at?” I asked, amazed by how smoothly she could go from one emotion to the next. Wasn’t that something someone bipolar did?
“Tracy Carmon’s house Friday night. I just talked to her in the bathroom before lunch and she said her older brother’s going to be home from college for the weekend and he’d already agreed to buy a keg,” Emily said, opening her fruit roll-up and wrapping it around her index finger.
“I heard about that earlier. I meant to ask you if you wanted to go,” Blake said to Emily.
“Sure you did,” she teased with a little scoff.
“I’m game,” Quiet Tom said between bites of his second taco.
“I’ll have to check my work schedule tonight to see if I work and I’ll have to check with Jules too, see if she wants to go.”
“Wow, that didn’t sound whipped at all, dude,” Blake sneered.
I rolled my eyes and took another bite of my taco to hide my smile. “Whatever, man.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
JULIE
The week blurred by. I’d only worked three days this week due to the colder weather, which caused no one to have the desire for ice cream anymore. At this rate I’d have to find another job. I hated that because I enjoyed where I was at, but I didn’t get paid for liking the place and our fridge at home had been empty for a while now.
~
Friday night came and I stood in my room getting ready for my date with Nick. He’d wanted to go to a party at Tracy Carmon’s house tonight with everyone else but I hadn’t. I’d only wanted to spend time with him, alone.
I walked to the bathroom and grabbed my deodorant from in the closet. I was in the middle of slathering on a thick layer, lost in my thoughts, when I felt someone begin rubbing the section of my lower back I knew was visible due to my raised shirt. I spun around, startled. Dwayne, mom’s newest boyfriend, stood staring at me with bloodshot eyes. Rob was long gone—he’d probably gone back to his lovely wife and three adoring children—and had been replaced by this newest loser in no time. I wondered if my mom had them lined up or something with the way she went from one to another so quickly.
Dwayne stared at me with that hungry gleam in his eyes that I had feared from some of mom’s past boyfriends. My mom was beautiful for a woman in her late thirties and I wasn’t sure why she always picked the scum who had a tendency for young girls.
Dwayne licked his lips. “Hey, Angel.”
“Hi,” I said, feeling
my heart begin to hammer in my chest. I pulled my hand down from under my shirt and placed the cap back on my deodorant. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you needed the bathroom.”
“I don’t. I just needed a sweet little glimpse of you.” He breathed, sucking air between his teeth, his eyes flaring with a desire that frightened me. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a beautiful little thing?”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. My heart had moved to my throat, making it hard for me to breathe let alone speak.
“Well, you are, honey. You are.” He nodded in approval of his words as I felt his eyes graze over my entire body.
“I have someplace to be,” I said as I moved to dart around him.
Dwayne caught my arm, stopping me abruptly in my mad dash to get away. I let out a startled gasp and he put his callus-covered finger to my lips.
“Shh.” He hushed me as he glanced around the door frame and toward my mother’s room.
I struggled to get my arm free. “Let go!” I shouted, hoping she would come out of her room, wondering what I was yelling about and find Dwayne manhandling me. She’d have no choice but to believe me this time if she saw it with her own eyes.
Dwayne tightened his grip on my arm and hushed me again as he steered me back into the bathroom, closing the door behind him with his shoe. “I just want a little something from you, that’s all.”
Fear prickled across my skin. “Let me go! Someone will be here to pick me up any minute,” I shouted, my voice quivering.
“It’ll only take a minute,” he insisted, his body pressing me against the far wall of our small bathroom. “Shh…only a minute.”
Tears stung the corners of my eyes as fear from what was about to happen—what I had miraculously avoided for so long—consumed my mind. If I screamed bloody murder would mom come running, then? What would she say when she saw Dwayne with his hands on me the way that they were?
Dwayne began to fumble with the button of his jeans and my eyes widened as I glanced around the room, searching for something to use to fight him off. A curling iron sat on the counter, a brush beside it, and closest to me a can of hairspray. I shifted my feet to the right, hoping to get closer to the hairspray, but Dwayne moved to block me. He pressed into me harder and I had no choice but to back myself against the wall behind me.
“Oh, God, you’re beautiful, Angel. Fucking beautiful,” he said, unzipping his pants and brushing the back of his free hand against my cheek.
I closed my eyes tight and held my breath, unable to look at him or think about what he was about to do. Gathering my courage I dug my fingernails into my palms, waiting for the right moment to strike him in the nose like I’d seen on TV and then sprint out the door.
A knock sounded at the door and my mother’s voice called out, “Dwayne, are you in there, sugar?”
He pressed his finger to my lips, hard, and let out a huff of frustration. “Uh, yeah. I’ll be out in just a second.”
“Okay,” she said, sounding oblivious to the fact that I was in here with him. The sound of her house slipper-covered feet shuffling away from the door and back down the hall came next.
“Next time, princess,” he promised, licking his tongue along the side of my cheek. I closed my eyes again and withered away, but his fingers gripped my face, holding me in place. “Your mama’s ready for me now.”
His lips crushed hard against mine and the stench of his mouth, moldy cigarettes and alcohol, filled my nostrils, making me gag.
Dwayne pulled open the bathroom door and walked away, leaving me trembling against the wall from what had almost happened.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
NICK
I pulled into Jules’ driveway, eyeing the Ford pickup parked beside her mom’s car. I’d thought her mom worked every weekend, but apparently not this weekend. I started toward the front door, but once I was halfway there Jules opened it and slipped outside. Her eyes were bright and glossy, and her chest and face were splotchy like she’d been crying or was fighting it back extremely hard.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, concern flaring within me at the sight of her.
“I want to leave; please just take me someplace.” She hurriedly walked to the passenger side of my mom’s car.
“Okay,” I said, fumbling to get the keys out of my front pocket.
“What happened?” I wondered as I slid into the driver’s seat and started the car, my concern turning to fear and paranoia the longer she made me wait for an answer.
“A H.H.L.M. from hell. Please, just get me away from that awful house,” she pleaded.
I glanced over and saw tears falling from her eyes. “Where do you want to go?”
“Anywhere but here.”
I drove in silence to Grayson Park, where the multitude of various fall-colored leaves blocked out the slowly darkening sky, and I was sure we wouldn’t be interrupted because no one came here during the cooler season. Grayson Park was mainly used for barbecues, family reunions, and summer birthday party cookouts.
I opened my door and then walked around to Jules’. She sat in the seat, curled into a little ball, glassy eyed and unresponsive. I crouched down to her level and stared at her as fear of what might have happened to her began to burn through me, slowly turning to anger toward whoever had hurt her. Whoever had made her cry.
“Jules, tell me what happened. Please,” I begged.
“Dwayne,” was all she could say before the tears flowed from her eyes again, cutting off her voice.
My heart slammed against my ribcage and sweat broke out across my brow. I knew who Dwayne was; he was her mother’s new P.O.S. boyfriend. My fingers tightened on the door handle I hadn’t let go of just yet. “What about him, Jules?”
“He almost did it, Nick. It was the closest anyone has ever gotten. I was so scared.” She sobbed. “So scared.”
I wasn’t sure which I felt more in that moment—heartbroken or pissed. After a few minutes, heartbroken won. I pulled Jules from the car and into my lap, cradling her in my arms and stroking her hair as she cried until her tears finally ran dry because I didn’t know what else to do.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
JULIE
I spent that night at Nick’s house, lying in his bed, curled in his strong arms. I’d never felt more safe. I didn’t sleep though; I couldn’t. Every time I closed my eyes Dwayne was unbuttoning his pants again in my mind. So instead, I lay awake listening to Nick’s even breathing and caressing his forearm with my fingertips. I kissed the scar beneath his left earlobe and the one on the side of his chin, grateful he’d come back into my life.
~
Another week passed and just like always there was another party to attend if we wanted; this time it was out at Saxton Camp, a place out in the middle of nowhere where supposedly Native Americans used to live back in the day. Every year Corey Emerson threw a massive bonfire party there because there were no neighbors to call and complain about the noise and no cops would drive that far out to bust it up.
I’d only been there once for a party and I’d enjoyed myself, more or less, but this time I wasn’t going for me, I was going for Nick. Because after what had happened the weekend before, I figured I owed it to him to attend a freaking party and have some fun.
~
I walked across the street to Nick’s house in a pair of gray sweatpants and a navy blue hoodie around noon and noticed the garage door was wide open. Music blared from the speakers he’d put inside and I could hear the clanking noise of his weights as he worked out. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I got closer and imagined what he’d be wearing, or wouldn’t be. I stopped and leaned up against the garage entrance, taking in the sight of Nick with no shirt on as he raised the barbell, extending his arms all the way out above him and then bringing it back down to just inches above his chest.
He placed it back into its grooves and sat up, his back, glistening with sweat, facing me. I didn’t speak as I watched him reach down in front of him for a towel off the floor and
begin wiping off his chest.
“Like what you see?” he asked, startling me completely. I hadn’t realized he’d noticed me walking up.
I swallowed hard. “Maybe,” I answered over the loud music from the speakers.
Nick turned around and flashed me a crooked grin as he continued to wipe away his sweat. “Maybes can be good.”
My cheeks burned and my stomach flip-flopped from the sight of his upper body. I shifted my eyes from him and stared at the CD player in the corner. The source of his crazy music.
“What are you listening to? It sounds like this guy is grunting into the microphone,” I said, hoping to push through my heated infatuation with the view of him I had in front of me. I’d come over here to talk to him for a reason, but I couldn’t remember exactly what for at the moment. I was dazed.
“Disturbed…and they do a lot of grunting into the microphone; that’s why I like them,” he said, standing and moving to turn it up just a tad bit more. He walked straight toward me and I felt my breath hitch in my throat. “But he’s not grunting here…he’s saying fuck.”
The music flowed over me as I attempted to decipher what the lead singer was saying. It was something about needing a fuck and putting it on credit. My jaw slacked. “What the hell is this song about? Fucking prostitutes?”
“It’s talking about a man’s primal need for sex. How he just needs one tiny little innocent fuck,” he said simply, just as the music changed tempo and slowed to something Arabian sounding right in the middle of the song.
The Unloved Page 9