Better Off Red

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Better Off Red Page 19

by Rebekah Weatherspoon


  “Sweetie, you’ve never mentioned liking a boy a day in your

  life. I figured we’d be having this conversation sometime around

  your freshman year in high school.”

  • 154 •

  Better Off red

  “Oh.” That threw me big time, but she had a point. I’d talked

  to my mom about everything. School, sports, my friends, Todd’s

  ex-girlfriends. I’d never come to her about any boys or even hinted I

  had my eye on anyone at school. No heartbreaks, not even a crush. I

  wondered for a moment if that part of it bothered her, that we didn’t

  have that kind of a relationship to share.

  “You’re not mad?” I asked quietly.

  “Why would I be mad?”

  “I don’t know.” I adjusted my towel and dragged Thackery

  across my lap. “I just thought…”

  “Honey, I’m an ex-pothead who married a mobster’s son then

  adopted a black kid. You think I’m going to judge my only daughter

  for being gay?”

  “I guess not.”

  “It’s your crotch, Gingey. I’m just glad you’re not pregnant or

  on any powder drugs or pills. Just be safe and get tested regularly

  like I told you. I kissed my roommate in college. She was nice; it

  just wasn’t for me.”

  “Oh.” I laughed a tad hysterically. “Well, good.”

  “Just be a good girl and your dad and I will be happy.”

  “And just don’t get pregnant?”

  “I’m too young to be a grandma. Are you going out with this

  young lady tonight?” It was weird to hear someone talk about

  Camila like she was any regular girl.

  “Yeah. Nothing big, but I have to get ready.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Uh, I’d rather not jinx it.” Mom made a little scoffing noise. I

  could just see her rolling her eyes at me. “Let me see how this date

  goes before I start talking her up. It could be nothing, but yes, it’s

  girls for good.” It felt good to say. It felt great to say it to my mom

  and to know she still loved me either way.

  “Okay. Well, thank you for telling me. And I’ll be sure to tell

  your dad.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” I shook my head in disbelief as we said our

  good-byes. I didn’t realize till the moment she picked up the phone

  how terrified I had been of upsetting my parents for any reason. I

  • 155 •

  reBekah WeatherspOOn

  felt much better as I headed down the hall, a huge weight I’d been

  oblivious to, lifted off my shoulders.

  ❖

  The bathroom was empty so I took a long shower. Afterward,

  I didn’t feel bad taking my sweet time blow-drying my hair since

  my roommate was gone. I turned up my music louder, singing along

  with Katy Perry at the top of my lungs while I lotioned up and put

  on my makeup.

  The music and the solitude revived me, but when I was done

  getting ready, the end result in the mirror gave me a much needed

  boost of confidence. Amy had found the perfect dress. The emerald

  green silk showed off “just enough leg and not enough booby,” as

  Amy liked to put it. The perfect mix to drive Camila crazy. I liked

  it because it made me look older. So many of the dresses we found

  made me look my age or younger with crazy cuts and patterns.

  This one accentuated all the right parts. The neckline scooped

  just low enough to show off my ruby necklace, which I had grown

  completely accustomed to wearing twenty-four seven. The fabric

  had a slight shimmer to it. It hugged my stomach and my chest,

  and the skirt came just to my knees. I decided to wear my long red

  waves pulled back in an artful bun. The whole package said classy

  but willing. The ruby red platform pumps Amy had picked out for

  me said willing and ready. Amy had grabbed some silver hoops and

  bangles to match my necklace and a gray cropped motorcycle jacket

  to complete the look and match Camila’s overall style. Amy insisted

  I needed a little pattern to make the look complete. I didn’t argue and

  shoved my phone and my wallet into my new leopard print clutch.

  Camila was right on time, knocking on my door at exactly eight

  o’clock. If I hadn’t been so determined to go on an actual date with

  her, I would have yanked her inside, mounted her, and called it a

  night. She looked too good. I blinked, my mouth actually flopping

  open. The difference in our height had only been an inch or so. It was

  a safe guess Amy had told her what she’d picked out for me because

  Camila’s peep toe heels were just a little bit higher than mine.

  • 156 •

  Better Off red

  A part of my brain noted that her toenails were red, but my

  clit forced my eyes to skip up to her skintight vinyl leggings. The

  loose black shirt she had on covered her perfect ass, but hung off

  her shoulder, giving me a peek of the black satin bra she had on

  underneath. My favorite red lipstick was back and there were black

  spiked studs in her ears. I forgot all about any sort of readiness or

  willingness; her outfit demanded that I fuck her right then and there.

  I got as far as, “Uh, hey.”

  “You look good, Red,” she said a little too sweetly, knowing

  just how amazing she looked.

  I swallowed anxiously. “Thank you. Where did you get those

  pants?” I said.

  She just smiled wide, flashing her fangs.

  ❖

  I’d been to downtown Baltimore once, and even then, my

  dad and I had only driven down a few streets on our way to the

  university. I hadn’t gotten a good look at the skyscrapers and local

  vendors or the harbor, and the city lights were the last thing on my

  mind now. I was focused on the woman next to me and our hands

  intertwined on her vinyl covered thigh. The side of my hand was on

  fire resting against her leg.

  “So where are you taking me?” I asked.

  “A Japanese place on Pratt.”

  “Do you own this place?” I asked, absolutely loving the love

  sexy grin I got back.

  “Yes, I do. I own mostly restaurants and hotels here and there.

  And the spa you ladies visited. I’d take you by the tattoo shop, but

  I’d like to get on with the dinner portion of the evening if that’s okay

  with you.”

  “Yes. It’s more than okay,” I said. “I’m just waiting for Cleo

  and Amy to pop up in the backseat.” Which wouldn’t have been a

  surprise. It was no one’s fault, except maybe Camila’s meth-addicted

  ex-employee, but we hadn’t had much vertical, fully clothed time

  alone. I wanted tonight to be about Camila and me. And only us.

  • 157 •

  reBekah WeatherspOOn

  “There will be none of that. I just want to be with you.”

  “That’s exactly what I was thinking,” I replied.

  She lifted our hands and brushed the back of my palm against

  her cheek, a sweet, adoring gesture that had me cursing the console

  between us. I sighed and settled back into the seat, finally watching

  the storefronts that passed by.

  We arrived at Hama, Camila’s Japanese restaurant and sushi bar,

  a few minutes l
ater and left the car at the valet stand. The restaurant

  was packed. The deep wood accents on the walls and ceiling soaked

  in the golden light, giving the open space the best sense of intimacy.

  I followed Camila past the hostess who greeted us with a simple

  nod. I wondered if she knew exactly who or what Camila was. It felt

  silly to ask, but I still got the impression she knew Camila was free

  to navigate the space on her own.

  She led us right to the sushi chef. After talking to him for a

  few moments—in Japanese—she turned to me with a wink and led

  me to a huge private booth toward the back. I let her take my coat,

  shrugging out of the gray faux leather, and settled comfortably next

  to her on the padded bench.

  “And you speak Japanese?”

  She leaned forward and kissed me. “I’m not sure there’s a

  language I don’t speak, Red. I ordered a few things for you to try. I

  hope that’s okay.” My mom had always told me that someone who

  orders for you without your permission is an arrogant prick and not

  saying so is an invitation for them to control your life. When it came

  to Camila, I was willing to let it slide.

  “It’s fine. My Japanese is a little rusty.”

  “I’ll help you brush up,” she said, scrunching her nose. Just

  then a female server brought us two glasses of water. Camila thanked

  her sweetly—in Japanese—before leaning back and gazing over my

  face. “So tell me more about you, Red.”

  “Oh? The way Benny talks, you guys already know everything

  about us.”

  “We know what’s on the books, so to speak, and I know the

  adorable things I love about you, but I want to know more. Tell me

  about your family.”

  • 158 •

  Better Off red

  Now that was easy. I pulled out my phone and started scrolling

  through my pictures. I pulled up a recent favorite, my mom and me

  posing on either side of my dad and Todd, both in pizza comas on

  the couch.

  “Oh, your brother is cute.”

  “Hey!”

  “I’m just saying.” She chuckled. “When was this taken?”

  “Right before I came to school. My dad left for Brazil a few

  days after he dropped me here, but I’m guessing you knew that.”

  “I did, but tell me about him. And your mom.”

  “I don’t know. They’re just…amazing.” My focus instantly

  dropped to my lap. I started choking up. It happened every time I

  thought about my family, every time I considered what they meant

  to me. Camila’s arm went around my shoulders and she pulled

  me closer. I took the comfort, leaning into her warm body. My

  arm brushed her nipple through the layers of her clothes, and my

  clit throbbed. But that only made me feel more secure, knowing I

  wanted her in every way and that now she was there for me in all the

  ways I needed her to be.

  “I’m sorry.” I took a deep breath and gave it another try. “I was

  in this group home in South Boston. It wasn’t bad it was just…”

  “A group home?”

  I swallowed, trying to pull it together. “Exactly. After my birth

  mom, I didn’t talk for over three months. I played with the toys they

  gave us and paid attention in school and stuff, but I just wouldn’t

  talk. I remember them trying every day to get me to say something.

  “My mom—Todd calls her Linda, still,” I said through my

  sniffling. “She came in to volunteer and she brought Todd with her.

  He’s just so—he brings people out. It’s impossible not to like him.

  He walked right up to me and goes ‘Linda, let’s keep this one.’”

  “You’re joking?”

  “No. I’m dead serious. She looked at me for a minute and

  then turned back to Mrs. Farnham, the lady who ran the place. I

  was coloring and Todd just sat and picked up a crayon and started

  coloring with me.” It took Todd a few moments to realize I wasn’t

  going to talk to him, but he didn’t care. He just talked and talked,

  • 159 •

  reBekah WeatherspOOn

  going on about nothing important. None of the kids were mean to

  me; it’s not that much fun to pick on someone who doesn’t bother

  to fight back, but Todd was the first person who made me feel liked.

  “Two weeks later, Linda came back with her husband Fredo and

  Todd. Mrs. Farnham told me the Carmichaels wanted to adopt me,

  no trial foster home, but full, immediate adoption, as immediate as

  those sort of things are. I wish you could have seen Mrs. Farnham’s

  face when I said I was okay with it. Lawyers conferred, paper work

  was finalized, and a few months later, I was a Carmichael. I found

  out later Dad had called in some serious favors to get me out of there

  as quickly as possible.”

  “I have to thank Todd though. He’s my best friend.” I shrugged.

  “I was safe in the group home, but Todd saved my life, I think.” I

  took another deep breath, relief and joy rising to a smile on my face

  at the thought of the wonderful family I still had.

  “And he’s taking a year off?” Camila asked. I scowled at her,

  knowing her vampire spies had given her that information.

  “Yeah. He volunteers at a youth center near his first foster

  home. He’s going to start med school next fall. Following in Dad’s

  footsteps. Unlike me, who just wants to cozy up to football players.”

  “Well, something tells me your parents are proud of you either

  way.”“You’d love my parents. My mom is so silly. She’s so much

  fun, and my dad, he’s just a good person.”

  “I think it takes a genuinely good person to do the work he

  does.”“It does.”

  “I’d love to meet them,” Camila said.

  “You would? But I thought—”

  “If your next statement has anything to do with anything Benny

  or Cleo said, I’m going to kill them,” she said.

  “Well, Natasha and Rodrick too. I just figured…”

  “If you want me to, I can meet them. It’ll have to be at night, of

  course, and they can’t exactly know what I am, but I can still meet

  them.”

  “What about your fancy teeth?”

  • 160 •

  Better Off red

  Camila opened her mouth. I blinked three or four times. The

  sharp tips of her fangs were there one second and gone the next.

  “How’d you do that?”

  Camila shrugged. When she opened her mouth to speak, the

  sharp tips were back. “It takes a little effort, but it’s not impossible.”

  “I’d love for you to meet them.” To express my gratitude, I

  kissed her softly on the lips, giving myself a hint of her delicious

  taste.I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until the sushi hit the table.

  Camila watched me demolish almost an entire spider roll before I

  realized she wasn’t eating. I grinned at her, my mouth full of crab,

  avocado, and rice.

  “You are so adorable, Red.” She picked up the last piece and

  put it between her perfect lips.

  I swallowed and took a sip of my water. “Sorry. Those pancakes

  wore off some time around two.”

  “Don’t
apologize. Eat all you want and then tell me more.”

  The years between my adoption and the moment I met Amy,

  had been pretty boring. Camila still wanted to know everything

  about me. I bragged shamelessly about my straight A’s in math,

  which she seemed to appreciate. I told her about my four year run

  on an undefeated field hockey team, the many things I’d learned

  about the perks of paper over plastic, how much I loved Starbursts.

  We got on the subject of friends and relationships. I explained

  to her that school took priority over boys and how I started to realize

  boys might not have been on my mind at all. My prom date had

  been a last minute thing with a friend who’d just gotten dumped. I’d

  planned on going stag. Then I accidentally told her about how my

  summer ended with my first kiss.

  “About that,” she said playfully. “You hinted you were a virgin

  when we met.”

  “Stop. I know what you’re getting at.” I knew this would come

  up. I was virgin, technically, in the sense that I’d never been with

  anyone else, but I knew she would question how easily she’d been

  able to slip sometimes three fingers inside me without a single

  protest.

  • 161 •

  reBekah WeatherspOOn

  “My mom tried to supplement the crap sex ed I was getting at

  school with extra info sessions at home. I got a little curious when

  she got to the section on masturbation.” I squeezed my eyes closed,

  thinking about how stupid I’d been. “I accidentally de-virginized

  myself with a cucumber.”

  “Oh, Red!” Camila’s shock was appropriate for how painful

  it had been. I went on, telling her how Mom had discreetly left a

  smaller, more hygienic vibrator on my dresser after she’d found the

  abused cucumber in the bathroom trash.

  “It wasn’t one of my finer moments,” I said. “But still, before

  you, I’d only kissed one other person, even though I’d spent many

  hours with myself.”

  “And was she any good? At the kissing I mean,” Camila asked.

  I pushed aside images of the day I maimed myself and thought about

  that muggy August afternoon, standing between our houses. Kristen

  and I had been talking, swapping bits and pieces of info about our

  soon-to-be roommates, when suddenly she just kissed me. At the

  time, it was amazing, hot and wet, with a lot of tongue. I’d wanted

  her to take the kiss further, which she would have if Todd’s nosy ass

 

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