by Roya Carmen
“I want one too,” Abe broke in, his cube was complete, a block of alternating colors. I was impressed since I could only manage to finish one side.
Adele handed me a drink and they resumed their game. Izzie whispered in my ear, “I know all three.” We shared a secret smile, and she seemed confident. But Izzie was notorious for making wrong accusations. She would often list off the suspect, murder weapon and room enthusiastically, only to be let down when she realized she was wrong.
That night was no exception. She was wrong again, and proceeded to throw herself on the sofa and make a scene, as she often did. I stifled a laugh as the rest of her family chuckled unapologetically. She was always so funny. Finally, she bounced off the couch and grabbed me by the arm. “Let’s go, Abby. This game is so stupid.”
We retreated to her bedroom, and stretched out on her messy bed. “So what have you been up to? I called you earlier and your brother said you were out. And then I heard your dad shout, ‘Where the hell is she?’”
I hated lying to Izzie, but I knew it would break us if she were to find out the truth. Izzie didn’t like playing second fiddle. She despised it in fact. She always needed to be the star of the show. And if she had known that the beautiful Gavin Foster had taken a liking to me, while he couldn’t have cared less about her, she would have gone berserk. And if she’d known how I’d put him above her, she would have instantly given me the cold shoulder. The sad truth was that I not only needed her, I needed her family too.
“I… I went to the arcade. My dad was half drunk… you know, Christmas Eve and all.” That was my go-to excuse. It was plausible after all. A typical teenage girl would probably not be inclined to go for walks alone, or just hang at the arcade by herself. But I wasn’t typical… I was stuck in a toxic home. It made a lot of sense.
“Why didn’t you come here?”
I played with the little jacket on one of the teddy bears on her bed, a gift from one of her many admirers. “Uh… I didn’t want to interrupt your Christmas dinner.”
“You wouldn’t be interrupting, silly.” She kicked me on the shin. “You know you’re like part of the family.”
I smiled. “You sound like your mother.”
Her eyes grew wide. “Oh… please don’t ever say that.”
“What? Your mom is cool.”
Just as we were talking about her, Adele made her appearance. She looked pretty in black pants and a red sweater, complete with Christmas tree brooch. Small Christmas trees dangled from her ears.
“Can I sit down?” she asked sweetly.
I was quick to make room for her while Izzie couldn’t have been any less accommodating.
“So what’s new?” Adele asked with a sweet smile. “You got a boyfriend yet, Abby?”
I thought of Gavin and stifled a grin. “Nope. All the boys I know are stupid.”
She laughed. “Oh… that will change.”
No, it won’t.
Her smile faded. “So another bad night at home?”
I nodded and stared down at the pretty quilt on Izzie’s bed. I didn’t want to talk about it. I couldn’t. I wanted to, but how could I explain without sharing too many details. If only Izzie hadn’t been there, I might have confided in her mother. “My dad got mad at me like he always does,” I simply said.
“Why was he mad?” Izzie broke in. “What was it this time?”
“Oh…” I scrambled for a story. “Me and Nick fighting… the usual. Anyway, he hurled insults at me. Called me a little bitch.” I had easily replaced the word ‘slut’ with ‘bitch’. They seemed equally incriminating.
Adele’s jaw dropped. “God… that man,” was all she said. “Well, you can stay with us if you’d like. You can sleep over if you want.”
I knew that would make my father even more livid. “No, it’s okay. I should get back soon. But thank you.”
Her mouth twisted into a sudden grin. “Well, we did get you some gifts, Izzie and I. And even Abe.”
I smiled, surprised. “Abe got me something? I didn’t get him anything.”
“Oh, Abe is a giver. He loves giving gifts.”
“We were going to give them to you tomorrow morning,” Izzie explained. “But you want them now?”
I laughed. “No, I can wait. I’ll be back tomorrow. I have some gifts for you too. I’ll have to scrounge up something for Abe… maybe I can steal something from Nick or Jake.”
Adele leaned in and wrapped her arms around me. The kind gesture almost brought me to tears. “We’re always here for you, Abby.”
My nose stung and my eyes brimmed. “I know.”
24
I’m running late for my doctor’s appointment when I swing the door open and spot some pretty purple tulips on my doorstep. I’m instantly filled with excitement as I quickly grab the arrangement and the accompanying note.
Just because… I had a wonderful time last night.
Love, Noah
Gorgeous, fun… and as it turns out, super sweet too.
I quickly arrange the flowers into a glass vase. I set it at the center of my kitchen table. I’m dying to drop by his place, but I’m officially late now.
I dash to the elevator, ride down to the parking garage and hop into my car.
When I finally get to my doctor’s, I’m completely flustered. I’m told by the receptionist that Dr. Peterson is running late and it’s going to be an hour wait. Typical.
Thankfully, I’ve brought my phone and my e-reader to distract myself. I settle myself in a chair, sandwiched between a small elderly woman and a large middle aged man. I grab my e-reader and delve into the book I’ve been reading on and off for the past two weeks. I’m at chapter twelve, and as hard as I try, I can’t seem to focus. My thoughts always seem to roll back to Noah; the tulips, the taste of his sweet mouth, the feel of his skin on mine. We’re getting pretty serious. It’s why I’m here at the doctor’s in fact. I’ve decided to go on the pill. If we keep going at it with nothing but a condom, we might get into trouble. We need to be safer.
The last thing I need in my life right now is a baby. I’ve just started a new job, and I’m still getting over the divorce. I still don’t quite know myself. Honestly, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. And let’s face it, as wonderful as this thing between Noah and I is, it’s all about fun. It’s nothing serious. We barely know each other. I haven’t met his family and friends and I don’t even know his favorite color.
Later that night, we’re having dinner at my place again; a simple meal of chili macaroni, garlic bread and salad. I’m a decent cook, but have always been more of a baker.
Noah eats enthusiastically as he typically does. “I should make you dinner sometime,” he says. “I make a pretty good bolognese sauce.”
I perk up, excited. “Sounds great. I’d love that.” I dig into my macaroni. “We never seem to spend any time at your place.”
He shrugs. “Your place is so much nicer,” he says. “I’m not even quite settled in yet.”
He does have a point. His place is sparse and cold compared to mine. “Well, I’d very much enjoy that.”
He smiles and digs his fork into his pasta, and says no more about the subject.
Every woman remembers her sweet sixteen birthday, and I’m no exception. I didn’t have a fabulous party, I only received a few gifts, and my birthday cake was a box of donuts. Yet, I still remember every minute of it.
It fell on a Saturday which I saw as a sign from God. He loved me enough to ensure that I’d have the whole day off on my birthday. The day started with a leisurely sleep-in, that is until Nick came barging into my room. “What did you do with the laptop?” he barked. We all shared a single laptop and often bickered about it.
I rubbed my eyes open. “Nothing. I didn’t touch it. Ask Jake.”
“Fine,” he scoffed. “You guys are so fucking annoying.”
No ‘Happy Birthday, Sis.’ That was fine. I hadn’t expected any.
I wondered what was so urgent on a Satu
rday morning. I decided I’d rather not think about it. I wished myself a silent Happy Birthday, and buried my head in my pillow in an unsuccessful attempt to fall back asleep.
An hour later, as I was absentmindedly flipping through TV channels, Izzie bursted through the door, wrapped in a heavy winter jacket and boots, toque askew. She never knocked, just always barged in, as if she owned the place. Dad hated this. I think he hated the fact that Izzie was fearless, that he couldn’t intimidate her. If he hurled an insult at her, she’d be quick to throw one right back.
“I think those shorts are not short enough, Izzie,” he’d once said sarcastically. “Why do you go around like a little trollop? Don’t you go rubbing off on Abby now. She’s not like you. She’s a good girl.”
“Yep, she is,” she’d replied. “It’s amazing really. With a dad like you. Amazing that she turned out so great. Who knows… maybe you’re not her biological dad.”
He’d inhaled a long breath, clearly wanting to slap her like he sometimes did me. But she wasn’t his to slap, and Izzie’s father was a lot bigger than he was, as were her dozens of uncles. He knew he couldn’t do a thing.
I’d stifled a grin as we left the kitchen. “And stop looking at my shorts, you dirty old man,” she’d scoffed as we headed to my bedroom.
I still smile at the recollection. God, I miss her sometimes.
She quickly shed her jacket, and we settled on my bed. She held a paper bag, and she eagerly pulled a gift from it, grinning widely. It was wrapped in pink paper and topped with a gold bow. A pink envelope was stuck to the top. She was all smiles as I read the funny card. She’d signed it, like always.
Love always, your bestie, Izzie. xoxo
I then quickly unwrapped her gift, eager to see.
“Sorry… it’s not much,” she apologized. “I don’t have a lot of cash. I need to find another job.”
She’d recently gotten fired from McDonalds for reasons she never really explained. I still hadn’t gotten a job because my dad was too unreliable to drive me, being intoxicated most of his waking hours. My brothers both had their licenses, but were also too unreliable.
Getting my driver’s permit was first on my to-do list. Losing my virginity was second. Both would require Gavin’s assistance. Yes, I could have achieved the latter with any boy in the neighborhood. They were all too willing. But there was no way my first time was going to be with one of those imbecile delinquents. Gavin was the only one I could imagine being with.
I opened the box to discover a funny Garfield mug and a pretty silver necklace, its pendant a pink sprinkled donut, the word Friends etched on top. She smiled wide and fished a matching pendant out of her sweater. Her donut was blue and topped with the word Best. I leaned in to give her a long hug. The gifts meant so much because they were so me. She knew I was obsessed with Garfield, amongst many other comic strips, and that I loved donuts with a passion she couldn’t quite understand.
I was almost brought to tears. “Thank you so much, Izzie.”
She bounced off the bed to help me put on the necklace. “Best friends forever, right?” Her soft touch sent a shiver down my spine as she fiddled with the clasp.
I smiled. “Yes… forever. Can you imagine us when we’re eighty?”
She laughed. “Yes, we’ll probably both be in one of those seniors homes, making trouble.”
I chuckled. “No… you’ll be making trouble. I’ll just be tagging along.”
She grinned playfully. “I’ll have all the old geezers wrapped around my little wrinkled finger.”
I raised a brow. “I bet you will. Will you still even be having sex then?”
“Hell, yeah.”
I laughed out loud. Yes, Izzie had once told me she loved sex. She’d already been with three guys. Paul Manning, good-looking enough but kind of a jerk in my opinion, was her first. By the time she hooked up with John Stevens, the second boy, I was happy that we didn’t have to talk endlessly about Paul anymore. The third was a man she insisted, not a boy. He was apparently so much better at pleasing her than the other two. As close as we were, she never confided who he was, said she didn’t want to get him into trouble. I listened attentively, wanting to take in anything she would give me, because I totally understood. I wanted a man too. For a brief moment, I wondered if she could be talking about Gavin. I quickly concluded that it couldn’t be him. Honestly, it could have been anyone. She was always hanging around with her uncle’s friends. Every boy in town wanted to bed Izzie, but only three had had the pleasure.
She’d told me exactly what to expect. She’d explained that at first, it would hurt a little bit, but still feel good. Apparently, the second time wouldn’t hurt at all. And the third time would be amazing. Have you ever masturbated? she’d asked. Have you ever had an orgasm? Amid much blushing, I admitted that yes, I had. I’d first explored at the age of thirteen, following her suggestion.
“Oh, I’m so glad you listened to me,” she’d cheered. “Doesn’t it feel good?”
I’d smiled shyly. “It does but…”
“But what?”
“But I always feel weird when I do it… kinda guilty, like I shouldn’t be doing that.”
She’d shaken her head furiously. “There’s nothing wrong with doing it, Abby. Boys do it all the time. You know what my mom says?”
I’d sat up straighter. “What does she say?” I was eager to know what the great Adele had to say about masturbating.
“She says it’s good for girls our age to do it because it puts us in charge of our own pleasure. We don’t need to rely on boys to make us feel good. If we don’t really like a boy, if we don’t think he’s nice enough, or if we think he’s just using us, or having sex with anyone with a vagina, we can say ‘No, thanks,’ and run off and go masturbate in the shower.”
I’d laughed out loud. She was so damn hilarious sometimes. “You make an excellent point.”
“You remember that, okay?”
I was still laughing. “Okay, I will. Next time I’m making out with a boy, I’ll be like, ‘Uh wait… you’re a loser. I’m going to go home to masturbate instead.’”
She’d shrugged. “Might as well… if the guy’s a loser.”
“True.”
“Have you ever even kissed a boy?” She’d asked, not in a mocking tone, just in the way a girl might ask her best friend out of curiosity.
I’d blushed, thinking about Gavin. That kiss was the most amazing moment in my life, and I wished I could share it with her. Turns out, we both had our secrets. “Nope… not yet.”
“It will happen,” she’d reassured me. “When you meet the right boy.”
I stared down at my bedspread, quickly checking my watch. It was one o’clock… one hour to go until I would see Gavin. I couldn’t wait.
“So what are you up to for your birthday?” Izzie asked.
“Uh…” I faltered, but was quick on my feet. “My dad is taking me to the bookstore.” This was the perfect cover story. I knew Izzie had no interest in books and wouldn’t ask to tag along.
“That’s nice.”
I nodded. “Yep.”
I’d come to terms with the fact that my dad and brothers had completely forgotten about my birthday, too wrapped up in their own lives to care. It was straight out of Sixteen Candles, minus the crazy Asian foreign student. And it wasn’t the first time.
“Speaking of which,” I told her, “I should get dressed.”
She rose. “Yeah, I actually need to get home. Mom and I are making pies.”
I smiled at the thought of Adele in her purple apron, hair up in a messy bun, covered in flour. She was a messy baker. I’d caught the baking bug from her, when years before, she’d taught me how to make chocolate chip cookies. I’d been amazed by how a few simple ingredients could transform into delicious cookies. Before Adele, I thought cookies only came in boxes from the store, pre-made. And these freshly baked cookies were so much tastier. They melted in your mouth. From that moment on, I was addicted to b
aking. Unlike Izzie, who couldn’t have cared less, I was mesmerized by every step of the process. Over the years, Adele gave me countless aprons. I was only seven when she gave me my first one, a pretty pink flower covered tiny smock. I bursted with happiness every time I wore it. I still have it today, and it breaks me every time I hold it in my hands.
“Your mom makes the best pies,” I told her, stating the obvious. “You better bring me one.”
“Of course… it’s your birthday, girl.” She quickly scurried out of my bedroom with a wave. “I’ll be back later,” she called out from the front door.
“Great,” my dad scoffed.
I held up my Garfield mug and smiled.
It was sweet of Izzie to come over and give me a birthday gift, but what I was really excited about was Gavin. We agreed that I would drop by his place at noon. Communication was tricky since he couldn’t call me, and we couldn’t be seen together. We were limited to email communication which Gavin wasn’t too particularly fond of, and I was always a little paranoid that I’d get caught. Sharing a laptop with my brothers, I worried that they’d snoop on my email, that one day I’d forget to log out and they’d find some incriminating messages and tell Dad.
The fact that he was so inaccessible made him all the more sexy in my eyes. Perhaps I enjoyed the thrill of sneaking around, of doing something I wasn’t supposed to do, of rebelling against my dad.
My pulse raced as I headed to Gavin’s in my heavy Kodiak boots and oversized jacket. The wind was unforgiving, and I was glad the trek was short. Underneath the winter layers, I’d worn a pretty woolen skirt and pink fuzzy sweater. I’d also applied a touch of makeup and curled my hair. I was concerned my heavy winter hat would ruin my hairstyling efforts. Michigan… what can you do?
He was beautiful when he opened the door. Freshly showered, his beard was trimmed and he smelled of Irish Spring soap. “Happy birthday, kid,” he cheered as soon as he closed the door behind me. He then surprised me with a hug, a weak one, but a hug all the same. It wasn’t like him to initiate physical contact. He was always very careful with me.