by L. J. Woods
“I can’t Gabriel.” And with that, another door shuts in my face.
“Kelly!” I bang on her door again but she shuts off her lights and closes the curtain. “Fuck!” If anything, that kiss only has me craving something more. It only helps remind me of Delilah and why she’s so fucking different.
So fucking devastating.
If I can’t get my fix, she’s the next best thing. Rushing back to my car, I whip out of the driveway. Once I’m out of her street, I tuck over to the side. Grabbing my phone, my text glares back at me before I send another.
Gabriel: Let’s talk Dee. I’m serious.
I wait another five minutes before I send another.
Gabriel: I mean it.
Then another.
Gabriel: Call me.
But I don’t even give her a chance to do that before I call her number instead. It rings a few times, telling me she’s still alive before it goes to voicemail. She’s fucking ignoring me but I make it hard to, calling her again. And again.
“C’mon, c’mon,” I mutter. I need to feel something. Anything. And besides drugs, Delilah is the only one that allows me to do that. When she doesn’t answer, my fist bangs into the dash. It’s about nine-thirty and she can’t be that busy, can she? I’m about to call her again but I get a call instead.
Coach.
I answer right away. “Coach, hey.” I’m trying to keep it casual like I’m not dying inside. “What’s up?”
“Gabriel, hi.” Shit. No Hammer. No “big man”. This already sounds bad. “I’m going to make this quick. After considering recent events, I’m sorry to inform you but we can no longer have you on the team.”
No! No. No.
“That’s bullshit!” My fist slams against the dash. “I’m the best you got! You know it!”
He sighs. “We can’t have members on the team that go against our morals. Your father confirms you’ve been using drugs again and Gabe, you know we can’t have that. The scout for the New York Emperors already thinks you’ll bring drama and the word will spread like leprosy.”
“My dad?! You’re siding with him when he’s fucking your students? Did he fuck you too?” Shit. That flew out. “Fuck, I’m sorry, but you can’t do this to me.” Hockey is my only way out of this. The only way. My grip tightens on the wheel. “Don’t do this to me.”
“I’m sorry, Gabriel. If it was up to me it wouldn’t be like this.”
“Bull-fucking-shit!” My fist slams against the wheel with every syllable. “Bullshit! You’re up his ass like every other fuck in this town! You guys don’t believe in God, he’s your god!”
Click!
“Fuck!”
Tapping Delilah’s number again, she’s the only one who can understand my frustration. My pain. With another straight-to-voicemail, it seems I’ve lost her too.
Thirty-Two
Delilah
The town of Burn smells like a cow.
Scratch that. It smells like cow manure.
And there’s nothing like thinking about killing yourself in a bathroom from the seventies while the smell of animal shit seeps through the window. The simple surroundings give this town an extra added charm. Not my kind of charm. But my reality is the same as it was the last time I lived with my mom.
Hell.
“This is a fresh start for you, Delilah.” I can hardly hear my mom over the fiddle in the background. The log house turned restaurant fits into Burn better than my mom’s inflated rack fits into a porno. It’s rugged. Everything’s made of wood, down to the rocking chair I sit on. This mush of dumplings and gravy in front of me makes me feel like we’ve moved south instead of an hour away. “Why aren’t you eating?”
Haven’t for two whole days and this little “family outing” isn’t helping my appetite. “Not hungry.” My fork falls to my plate.
“We ain’t feedin’ you the whole time you’re here,” Tim pipes up, grease dripping down his chin from the fried chicken he’s eating. He’s across the table, next to my mom in a dashiki. Still doesn’t have our culture right and my mom chalks it up to him being cute. When he’s not. Far fucking from it. “You gonna work, kiddo. Think ‘bout your future.”
Sitting back in my seat, my eyes land on a photo of a sunset on the vomit green wall. “I already figured it out.” Zoning out on the palm trees, the waves, I confirm that I want out. “I wanna travel. I wanna see how skateboarders kick it in LA. Or Madrid.”
My mom makes a sound of displeasure. It’s a mix between a hum and a huff and it makes me grind my teeth.
Tim chuckles, a pig-like noise. “Not gettin’ a real job?” His eyes fall to my tits, under my hoodie. It’s one of the only things I can wear that doesn’t get a comment from them about my style. It’s Elijah’s. Not that they notice.
“Are you?” The retort comes flying out of my mouth, my mom yelling my name as he looks around. “Sorry,” I mutter. I’m not, but pushing the hair out of my face, I show them that I’ve thought about it. “I’m gonna grab some industry names and interviews. Get myself known.”
Tim snorts again. “I said a real job.” My bubble pops.
“Some people think I really have a chance,” I explain. Those people being my dead brother, a boy I no longer want to talk to, and my burnout bestie. There’s a voice inside telling me I’m wrong but I’m already second-guessing myself and Tim’s response makes it worse.
“Who? Gabe Godfrey?” Tim asks, the name still a strike to my guts, a hit to the scattering butterflies on my insides. He waves a finger at my face. “You two knockin’ boots? Suckin’ face?”
Ew.
My mom sits up and I glance her way, my nose scrunched. “No.” We’re definitely fucking. Were fucking. But that’s none of Tim’s goddamn business. Not even my mom asks about my dating life, not that I don’t want her to. Would be nice having a mom to tell you about mishaps. Heartbreak. But she only cares about him.
Tim chuckles, a piece of chicken stuck in his teeth. “Definitely suckin’ face.”
Ew!
“Better not be,” Mom says, poking at her plate of greens. “Probably end up pregnant.”
“You needa eat,” Tim cuts in again, pushing my plate at me. “You’re all skin n’ bones.”
Fists clenched in my lap, I’m reaching my fucking limit. “I can’t be both skin and bones and fat,” I say, closing my eyes so I don’t jab my fork through his eye. “So, which is it, Tim?”
His phone vibrates against the table, his glare moving to his screen. He picks it up and my mom shakes her head, Tim muttering into the mic. My head falls back against the seat, looking up at the wooden fans in the ceiling, remembering how much easier it was when Gabe joined us for dinner.
My eyes narrow. Why the fuck do I still want him here?
“Wooo!!” Tim’s howl makes the one other family in the restaurant look our way. “We got a job, honey!” Pulling on the front of my mom’s halter, he swoops her in for a kiss. And I’m gonna hurl. “We gotta go! We shoot in an hour.”
My mom’s brown eyes beam before she glances at me. “What about Delilah?”
Tim turns to me, his eyes dropping to my tits before I drop my arms. “We’ll bring her. She can use the extra work.”
When Tim said “work” I didn’t expect this.
We’re in a barn, bright lights shining on bails of hay. They also shine on a man with his dick out. He smiles at me, naked. Boner in his hand, cowboy hat on his head. Sure, he’s cute in that country singer kind of way, but his muscles aren’t as defined as Gabes, his skin clear of tattoos.
God, even in front of a cock I’m still thinking about a dick.
“What you mean you can’t shoot her?” Tim’s voice comes from behind me, and I’m actually relieved to hear that. What the fuck were they thinking bringing me to a porn shoot? I don’t wanna see my mom fuck. I still remember the first guy that showed me her video. I was sick for a month. “We don’t live far from here, she can be on set every week!”
“Do you know w
ho I am?” My mom’s voice adds to the chaos. No one seems to care. A cameraman sits on a bail of hay, scrolling through his phone, headphones around his neck. He’s chewing gum while the guy with the boom mic chats with Cowboy. “You can’t pass me up!”
“I’m sorry, Miss Daniels.” Turning around, a short man in an Adidas tracksuit throws his clipboard on a cart filled with makeup and sex toys. Dildos. Butt plugs. “Have you tried scouting calls looking for mature actresses?”
She gasps before she sounds like someone said a slur. “Mature!? We came here for the thousand, we’re not leaving without it.”
The way my mom’s acting makes me wonder if she’s back on her usual ‘routine’. The coke routine. It’s one of the reasons my parents split up. Another was my dad disappearing. Moved back to Trinidad but whatever. It kept her going when she first started her career. And now, she’s totally reaping the consequences. The difference between her and my brother? I don’t give a fuck if she dies. And as I’m standing here, in a porn studio, I realize I stopped caring a long time ago.
Adidas Tracksuit bumps into a literal cow on the way to Cowboy, but he stops, looking at me. “What about you?” He lowers his shades, eyeing my frame. “You want the job?”
“What? Nooo!” With my hands in my hoodie, I back away on my Chucks. “No, thank you. My mom’s the one—”
“Oh come on, sweetie.” His shoulders drop. “Don’t be shy, take that sweater off, let’s see what you got. We can shoot you today.”
“Yeah, fuck no.” No shade to pornstars, I respect the hustle, but I rather ride a rail than a cowboy.
“I’ll give you two-grand to start. You look like you got it all.” His hand comes to my shoulder, pointing me towards the Cowboy. The lights. The cameras. “With that sassy attitude? You could be a young Thunder Daniels in the making, sweetie!”
“And she’s eighteen!” Tim calls.
What the fuck? Is that the real reason he brought me here? To pimp me out and humiliate my mom?
“Five-grand,” Adidas says. “What do you say?”
“Dude, I said no!”
Pushing him off me gets a yell from Tim. “Delilah!” He approaches me, pushing a camera out of the way. My mom attempts to balance on her heels as she follows him, stepping over hay and cracks on the barn floor. “Do what the man says. Take that off and get in front of that camera.”
My eyes move to my mom, looking for some help. “I don’t want to. I don’t have to.”
“If you want to live in our house, you do.”
“Mom!” I look to her for help.
She seems defeated, letting her hair out of her long pigtails before giving me a shrug. “It’s good money, honey. Skateboarding won’t get you anywhere. Be realistic. Take your shirt off, it’s not a big deal.” That burn comes to my nose. “We said you had to get a job,” she sighs. “Five thousand dollars is nothing to scoff at. You think you can do better than that?”
“Fucking right I do.”
Tim steps in front of my mom. “Stop bein’ a little shit and do what we say or you’re out the house.” He sneers. “You’re nothin’ special. Just do the fuckin’ job.”
I hardly think about it, a smirk spreading across my face. While I stare at Tim in those beady blues, I give my mom another chance to save me. To save our relationship. To save our family. But when she doesn’t say anything I know what I have to do.
“Sayonara, Tim.” With my middle finger in the air, I saunter out of that barn. Fighting the tears back in my ducts, I know I’m doing the right thing. But leaving your family? That’s not easy.
Guilt lays heavy on my chest when I lean against the red door of the barn, the sun setting over a field of hay while I choke back tears. Tim comes barrelling out, pulling my mom’s hand behind him. They get into the car and I can’t wait to get back and pack my bags.
When I pull on the Jeep door, it’s locked before they peel out of the lot and if I don’t let go, they’ll be dragging me with them. “Hey!” I call after them, standing in the dirt in my hoodie and jeans. They don’t turn back.
“Cocks!” Kicking my Chuck against the barn doesn’t make me feel any better. So I kick it again and again. Remembering I don’t have my board, I kick it even harder. “Jesus! Cocks!” Too hard. The pain shoots up my leg and it still isn’t enough to distract me from the mix of emotions inside me.
Reaching for my phone in my pocket, it’s on its last ten per cent, dozens of calls and texts from Gabe. I’m tempted to call him, he’s the only one that’ll understand the predicament I’m in. The only one who’ll make me feel better. But he’s the catalyst for why I’m here.
My finger taps his name without another thought, but it doesn’t even ring and I feel worse than before. Sliding my ass to the dirt, I ignore the heaviness in my chest, the tears falling down my cheeks. I should have never come here. Should have never gone to Clementine. I’ve been trying to give my mom a chance. Same with Gabe. But everything’s so much more broken than I remember. Especially without Elijah.
The biggest question of all hangs over my head.
How the fuck do I get out of here?
“Is your mom gonna pop out of the bushes and smash my ride?”
That’s Nix’s first question when I climb inside his car under the moonlight with nothing. He hands me a slushie and a joint. When I sip it, it’s spiked.
“Nope.” My head hitting the seat, I take another long sip from the big straw. “She’s long gone.” Doesn’t even call. Doesn’t even text.
“Damn. Who the fuck leaves their daughter in the middle of the countryside? Have y’all not seen Deliverance?” Not sure if Nix would have found me if I didn’t text my location right away. My phone died shortly after, leaving me sitting in front of a barn, listening to takes and takes of people boning. Meanwhile, the only thing on my mind was Gabriel Godfrey.
My foot hits a small box at my feet.“Why do you have NoCan?” The joint between my lips, I reach down to grab it. If Elijah had this around that night it would’ve saved him. All it takes is a pump in the nose to reverse the effects of an opioid overdose. Literal lifesaver. If Gabe wasn’t a fucking idiot he would’ve known that.
Nix keeps his eyes on the dark two-lane road “Ever party with a rap star?” He presses a few buttons on the radio, turning on some Eazy-E.
I raise an eyebrow. “No?”
He nods, taking it out of my hand and dropping it back to the floor. “While you need a big ass drink, we won’t be needing that. Unless you wanna stop by Dolly P’s and party with some big booty bitches.” He fist-pumps the air and that gets a laugh, the first genuine one I’ve had in a while. “There she is!”
My head hits the seat, his windows down as the breeze blows on my face. “Almost lost me there. Could’ve been a pornstar in Burn.”
“Glad I didn’t Liles,” Nix turns up the stereo. “Let’s leave the woes in this town and get you back to civilization, girl!”
My smile grows, my head bopping to the beat. “Let’s get very far from here.” With my phone plugged into Nix’s car, I delete my mom’s number. I mean it.
Sayonara.
“So, did Mariam really fuck Pastor Godfrey?”
Nix waits until we’re half in the bag to ask the question I know is on his mind, swivelling on the wobbly bar stool next to me.
“Sure did,” I nod, refilling each of our glasses. “But like, I doubt she actually wanted to. It’s fucking Godfrey. He’s the one with the power.”
Nix takes another glug before I can clink my glass to his. “And Hazel?”
We’re also a couple of joints in, making the place we’ve chosen a hell of a lot more tolerable. Didn’t realize Nix was choosing our favourite spot, “Boy Meets Bar.” It was Elijah’s favourite too. Small. Super local. No tourists. Open-mic rap battles on Thursdays. But this all means it does a great job at reminding me of Gabe. Including the time he clobbered that dick for me.
Why did Gabriel protect me then and not now? I should be way too happy to be
back in the city to care but his stupid fucking face sits at the front of my mind.
Glugging my beer, my body relaxes with more booze in my system. “She’s sleeping with a Godfrey.” Slamming my half-empty glass on the table, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “I’m just not sure which one.”
Nix laughs, sitting up in his large purple sweater. “You actually think she’s sleeping with Gabe, Liles?” He jerks his head back as if I’m being ridiculous.
“I dunno,” I sigh before finishing the other half of my drink in one go. “You think they have wings here?” The smell of barbecue and fried goodness makes me sniff the air, munchies kicking in.
Nix follows my lead, finishing his drink before his face lights up. “Yo!” His hands slam on the table. “If Hazel’s sleeping with Godfrey’s dad and not Gabe, wouldn’t there be texts to prove it?”
“I don’t care.” I do. But I shouldn’t. Not after what I found out. My eyes narrow and he raises both hands in surrender.
“I’m not tryna stir the pot or some shit, Liles, but from what you told me about Gabe, you need to hear more from his side.”
“Speaking of sides, whose are you on?” As I’m refilling our glasses, the music gets louder around us, lights dimming. It’s easy to raise my voice when I’m already a little drunk. “Gabe was there when my brother died! That’s fucked up!”
“Always on your side, Liles. It’s the only reason I’m mentioning it. You don’t even know if that’s true or if any of it’s true! His dad’s fucked up, you can’t trust a guy like that. You need to hear it from him. Even if it hurts.”
Why should it matter? Gabe had his chance. Many chances. He let me down every time. Just like my mom. Just like my dad.