Vice, Virtue & Video: Revealed (The Vice, Virtue & Video Series)

by Bianca Giovanni

  “I don’t think this was high on the list of careers they’d want their son to have.” I chuckle, but thinking about all this is eating away at me inside.

  “Who cares?” She shrugs. “My mom said I was a whore when I first started, and I was just like, ‘Yeah, Mom, I am a whore! Fuck you!’”

  I really have no response to that, so I just take a sip of coffee.

  “People want to hate on us, but it’s just because they’re jealous,” she continues. “We’re hot, we make a lot of money, and we party. Everyone wishes they could be us.”

  Sure, Joey and Keegan might act like they wish they had my job sometimes, but I seriously doubt they’d actually be into all the stigma that comes with being a porn star. Keegan’s a fuckin’ country club kid, for fuck’s sake, so his family would probably be even more embarrassed than mine. That’s the part you don’t really think about when you’re just starting out in this business. You know it’s inevitable that someone from your past will find out eventually, but you just assume it’ll be way down the road and you won’t care by then.

  “The whole thing was really fucked up,” I sigh. “At first, it was awesome. I got to hang out with my friends. I got to spend time with Lola—I’d fuckin’ missed her like crazy. Then it all sort of went up in flames.”

  “Lola’s that high school girl, right?” she says just a little bit flippantly.

  “She’s graduating tomorrow,” I say, incredibly regretful that I won’t be in the stands watching her in her cap and gown.

  “She’s the one who was your neighbor or whatever?”

  “Yeah, she lived next door. We hung out pretty much every day of our lives from elementary school through high school,” I explain, feeling kind of happy to be talking about Lola and not my parents. I don’t think Tara really has the capacity to understand how fuckin’ hurt I am by what went down with my mom and dad.

  “So she’s like your girlfriend or something?” She rolls her eyes.

  “No.” I shake my head. “Best friend.”

  “Hmm,” Tara says, looking at me suspiciously.

  “What?” I chuckle.

  “Are you guys fuck buddies, friends with benefits?” she pushes.

  “No, it’s never been like that.”

  “Is she a lesbian?”

  I laugh loudly at that. “You’re saying that she’d have to be a lesbian to not fuck me?”

  “Yes,” she says, and I’m not sure if she’s joking.

  “Well, she’s not a lesbian. She’s just one of the rare women who’s not susceptible to all this,” I joke, flexing my bicep.

  “Mmm.” Tara smiles seductively. “That just means there’s more for me.”

  A few seconds later, she’s on her knees under the kitchen table, sucking me off. I let my mind go blank, focusing only on the sensation. It’s harder this time because I can’t stop thinking about what happened and about how much I wish Lola was with me instead of Tara. Not wishing that she was blowing me or anything, just sitting on my couch talking to me and making me feel like I’m not worthless.

  I fuck Tara twice before she says she has to go get her nails done. The second I close the door, I feel like shit. Lola was right. That little foray didn’t make me feel any better, and I’ll still be stuck in this shitstorm regardless of how many times I come. The worst part is, I know I’ll totally do it again.

  Chapter 14

  Lola

  THE SUN IS BEATING DOWN on me as I sit on the football field and listen to our principal address my fellow graduates. The cap shields me a little, but this black gown makes me feel like I’m baking in an oven bag. My classmates surround me, equally hot but all very enthused about this culmination of our high school years.

  I take a glance into the stands at the proud faces of friends and family members. Naveen’s parents are sitting together with his older brother, who is getting an engineering degree at the university. Zoe’s mom and dad are there in hippie attire, complete with dreadlocks, tie-dye clothing, and Birkenstocks. My friend Jacob’s parents are sitting there with his grandpa and grandma, his aunt, and his younger cousin. My eyes finally reach my family, and I see my mom’s wide smile as she looks over at me. She’s seated next to her brother, Pauly Coletti, and his wife, Diana. Beside them are my two younger cousins, Frankie and Mike, a.k.a. Little Mikey. To my mom’s other side is my Nana Lucia. One row down from them, seated alone and looking down at his BlackBerry is my father, the eternally indifferent Kevin Caraway. I was a little surprised he even showed up, considering he’s missed pretty much every other significant moment in my life. Notably missing from the picture are my stepmom, Nikki, and my half-brother, Zach.

  My mom is forcing me to have a meal with my dad after graduation, likely in an effort to make us spend time together even though we’re not exactly buddies. I’m completely dreading it. Last time I had dinner with my dad, he kept taking phone calls and making fun of me for my opposition to pork—a belief I’ve held since I saw Babe as a kid. He also managed to get in a few jabs about my appearance, criticizing my general disinterest in fashion and designer labels. I left feeling like I was an ugly, poor, overly sensitive nerd. James came over, and I started crying when I told him about it, but he joked around with me until I was feeling lighter.

  That memory makes my heart sink very slightly. James isn’t here. He’s not out in the stands, not here to cheer me up when my dad tears me down, not here to give me a big hug or applaud for me when they hand me my diploma. The thought makes me miserable. I really miss him—sexual tension or not. He’s family to me, and there’s a palpable void in his absence.

  I zone out through most of the speeches, though I cheer loudly for Naveen when he gives his valedictorian address. Finally, they move on to calling names and handing out diplomas. I’m thankful that my last name comes early in the alphabet because I can go up there and get it over with. I’m not sure why I’m so soured on this whole thing. I love my friends and my family, but I feel very impatient and agitated by everything right now. Maybe I’m mentally preparing myself for the drastic change that will come when I depart for college, trying to get some emotional distance from this part of my life so it won’t hurt so much to leave it behind; or maybe I’m just tired of sweating in this gown.

  After we’re proudly presented as the class of 2006, we toss our caps into the air, and I breathe a sigh of relief. This part is over. Immediately, I unzip my synthetic, non-breathable gown and make my way over to the parents currently swarming onto the field. Many of my friends’ parents give me congratulatory hugs and wish me well before I finally get to my family.

  Uncle Pauly scoops me up and gives me a huge hug. Aunt Diana is equally enthusiastic as she shamelessly praises me. Even my vaguely obnoxious cousins seem proud, and it makes me feel good. My Nana is crying and not-so-quietly whispering to me that I’m the smartest person in the family, which cracks me up.

  “I took so many pictures I think I filled the memory card,” my mom says, laughing as she looks down at her camera.

  Just then, my dad moseys over a bit sheepishly, probably because everyone here knows he’s an asshole, and gives me a very forced hug. I notice that everyone takes a step back, leaving just me and dear old Dad.

  “Congratulations, honey. You’ve got a bright future ahead of you,” he says. But it doesn’t sound genuine. Instead it’s like the trite, clichéd sentence you’d see on the inside of a generic graduation greeting card.

  “Thanks, Dad,” I say, trying my best not to let my annoyance show. “Where’s Nikki?”

  “She and Zachy are at home. I didn’t want to buy three tickets just for this.”

  There we go. There’s that selfish asshole I’m used to.

  “Just for my graduation?” I roll my eyes and can’t hold back a scoff.

  “Look, I’m here, all right? I think I should get a little credit for that.”

  “Really? Credit for attending your firstborn child’s high school graduation? Someone should get you a medal,” I
snap.

  “Lola, I’m not going to start with you,” he sternly replies, effectively cutting off any further discussion.

  My mom must see the tense exchange because she comes over and puts her arm around me. “Want to head back to the house and get changed before your dinner with your dad?”

  “Yes.” I nod, breathing an annoyed sigh as I struggle to let go of my urge to lay into my dad about his many faults.

  We part, and my dad asks me to meet him at the restaurant, since I think he can tell Uncle Pauly is about five seconds away from exchanging some heated words with him. My whole family knows what an absentee father he was during my childhood, as if divorce meant severing all ties with that part of his life, and they’re all shooting him some serious stink eye. It makes me feel strangely loved and supported.

  “You can’t just fight with him when you guys go to dinner,” my mom says the second we get into the house. “You just have to grin and bear it, sweetheart.”

  “I wish he hadn’t shown up at all,” I grumble. “I don’t even know why he’s here. He hasn’t given a shit about me since I was three years old, and now, all of a sudden, he wants to pretend to be a dad.”

  “He feels like he’s supposed to be here.” She shrugs, stepping back out onto the porch to grab a cardboard box I didn’t notice when I was angrily stomping inside.

  She hands it to me, and I see my name in black Sharpie. I recognize the handwriting as James’s mom’s, and I purse my lips as I decide what to do. I’m so angry at the Lairds right now that I want to smash it to bits, but this isn’t my war to fight and Brenda and Jon have always been very kind to me, so it seems wrong to get dramatic.

  I open it up to find an Apple box inside with a brand new iPod nano. There’s a note from Brenda inside that says they’re proud of me, they wish me the best, a “bright future,” a quote from Oh, the Places You’ll Go, they’ve always considered me like a daughter to them, blah, blah, blah. As much as I want to be angry, this is really nice of them, and I know they’re in a weird spot right now which they’re trying to handle as cordially as possible. If they’d given me this gift a few weeks ago, I would have been overjoyed and endlessly grateful. Hell, I’d be on my way over there right now to thank them profusely. I have to put my beef with them aside and accept that they still love me, even if they choose to no longer love James.

  “Oh, a nano!” My mom smiles as she peeks into the box. “That’ll be great if you’re in the library or your dorm.”

  “Yeah,” I say, swallowing my last bit of anger. “It’s really cool of them to get me something.”

  She looks at me knowingly. “I get it, honey,” she says, smiling, “but you’ve got no dog in this fight, and you have to just let it slide.”

  “I do have a dog in this fight, though,” I refute. “They treated him like shit, Mom. They broke him. It wasn’t fair, and they never should have reacted that way.”

  “Lola, you know I love James like he’s my son, but you have to understand how they must feel about this,” she says quietly as Uncle Pauly slips past her to grab a seat on the couch in the living room.

  I feel my brow furrowing with anger, but I don’t respond.

  “Really, honey, think about it,” she continues. “They feel deceived, and nobody likes feeling that way. They think of it as a betrayal, something that will reflect badly on them as parents, like they failed to instill morals in him. Something like this is huge enough for them to overlook all the good qualities he has and write him off. But I’ll bet you a hundred bucks they mellow out on it after they cool down. Once everything settles, they’ll see that their reaction was a bit extreme.”

  “I hope so,” I reply, though my voice is tinged with skepticism.

  The doorbell rings, and I’m praying it’s not Jon or Brenda. I’ll send them a nice thank-you note, but I don’t want to speak to them in person for fear that I’ll unleash a tirade about how much they wounded my best friend. I can be very defensive when it comes to people I love, and James falls firmly into that category—perhaps even more so with this attraction weirdness. But all that is too confusing to dwell on.

  I walk over to the door to see a FedEx guy standing on the porch. He asks me to sign for a box, and I curiously take it. I’ve already received graduation gifts from most of my family, and I’m not expecting anything else.

  A big smile spreads across my face when I see that it’s from James. I literally sigh with longing as I run my fingers over the address.

  “Who’s that from?” my mom asks, coming up behind me.

  “James,” I say, beaming.

  “Well, what are you waiting for? Open it.” She chuckles and motions excitedly to the package.

  My jaw drops when I pop the box open. There’s a white Apple box inside with a picture of a sleek, white MacBook on the front.

  “Shut the fuck up!” I whisper to myself as I take it out. “He got me a Mac!”

  “Wow!” my mom gasps.

  “It’s the new MacBook!” I gleefully continue. “He knows I was going to use my old iBook for school, and he got me a brand new Mac! This is insane!”

  “What’s with all the shrieking?” Uncle Pauly says as he comes in.

  “Lola’s best friend bought her a laptop for graduation,” my mother fills him in as I stand with my mouth agape with surprise.

  “Wow! Which friend got her this?” he asks.

  “James,” she clarifies.

  “Oh, yeah, the neighbor kid,” he says. He’s met James a few times when his family would visit us, but it’s been several years.

  “What?” Aunt Diana asks, coming into the room too, followed shortly by my cousins.

  “That neighbor boy gave Lola a laptop for graduation,” Pauly says.

  “I wish I had neighbors like that!” Diana chuckles.

  “Your boyfriend bought you a laptop?” Mikey asks with disbelief.

  “He’s not my boyfriend.” I shake my head.

  “Lola, guys don’t just randomly buy girls laptops,” Frankie chimes in. “For my girlfriend’s birthday, I bought her a necklace—and we’ve been going out for over a year.”

  “Well, he’s just a very generous person,” I retort.

  Mikey nudges Frankie, and the two exchange looks that clearly translate to “Lola must be giving it up to that guy on the regular if he’d spend over a grand on her.”

  I give them a momentary glare before I roll my eyes.

  Nana shuffles in to see what all the fuss is about, and she looks at the box with bemusement. “Am I interrupting the meeting?”

  “Look, Nana,” I say with a smile, holding it up for her. “James gave it to me for graduation.”

  “What is it?” she says, squinting as she looks at the picture on the front.

  “It’s a laptop,” I reply.

  “A what?” she asks again, messing with her hearing aid.

  “A laptop.”

  “A laptop computer?” she asks, her eyebrows shooting up. I nod. “Oh! He’s a big spender, huh?”

  I laugh and nod again. “I can’t believe it. It’s so thoughtful and cool of him.”

  “What a good kid.” She smiles with approval. “He’s always been such a sweet boy.”

  She likes James, always has. Sometimes when Pauly would bring her for a visit, James would sit down and talk to her for hours. She’s got a razor sharp wit, and I think he found it fascinating and amusing. She thought he was a crack-up, and she even passed along some of her most prized recipes—something hugely symbolic for her.

  “Why wasn’t he at your graduation this morning?” she says, asking the question I was sort of hoping to avoid.

  “He had a big audition in LA,” I lie. “He’s trying out for a spot on a TV pilot,” I fictitiously clarify.

  “We’ll see his name in lights someday?” She chuckles. “Tell him I want an autograph next time I see him. What’s that website where they bid on things, Pauly?”

  “It’s eBay, Mama,” he laughs.

 
“I can put it on the eBay and make a fortune. There was an article in the paper the other day about it. The guy sold a baseball for two thousand dollars,” she muses.

  “I’ll have him send you an eight-by-ten.” I snicker.

  “Better be a picture with his shirt off, since that boy loves to show off his muscles. That’ll get the girls bidding,” she jokes, which makes everyone erupt into laughter.

  “I’ll be sure to pass that request along,” I say when I’ve recovered.

  We all retreat to the living room, and I try to pretend I’m not worrying about this dinner with my dad. I’m supposed to be going to a few graduation parties tonight, and I try to focus on that, but the dread is creeping up in my stomach, and I feel kind of sick. I need to calm the hell down, but I don’t want to go off on a rant about my dad to my family because they’ll agree with me and it will supercharge my hatred, which will not be good if I have to sit across from him and pretend to be chipper.

  Thankfully, now I have an excuse to call James and take my mind off the whole thing. I go into the front room and away from the prying ears of Mikey and Frankie as I dial his number.

  “Hey, babe!” he answers.

  “You’re the best ever!”

  “So I take it you got it?” He laughs.

  “I got it, and it’s the best gift anyone’s ever given me. Thank you so much, James,” I say. “You’re out of your mind for spending that much money on a graduation present, but I fucking love you for doing it!”

  He laughs loudly. “Your iBook is old as shit, and you were due for an upgrade,” he responds with predictable modesty.

  “It’s just a huge gift, not even just because they’re expensive. It means a lot to me. You picked something so perfect for me. You want to know what my dad got me? A fucking Coach bag. He spent, like, three hundred bucks on a fucking purse—and it’s not even big enough to fit a book in!” I rant.

  James knows I’m not a designer handbag kind of girl, so he scoffs and replies, “Probably came recommended by Nikki.”