by M. N. Forgy
“I found her and Warner Nine up at the water tower, sir,” Sheriff Randall informs my father. “She’s been drinking.”
“Thank you, sir. We will take care of it from here,” my father insists, pushing on my lower back to go inside.
I can tell Randall wants to say something else, but he thinks better of it and turns around back to his SUV.
Stepping inside, the door clicks behind us and my parents waste no time biting into me.
“Who is this Warner kid?” my mother shouts.
“Who do you think you are staying out like that?” my father right behind her.
“You didn’t call, or tell us where you were?”
“This is not like you!”
“I don’t know if I want you hanging around this kid.”
I keep walking up the stairs to my room, drowning my parents’ nagging voices out with the sound of Warner’s voice in my head, the smell of him on my skin. The way our bodies naturally responded to one another up there in that tower, it was like the night we met. It was so… intimate. Our bodies do the talking, our eyes conveying what we need and want.
My hand is gripped, and I’m suddenly jerked around to face my concerned parents.
“You don’t know these people, River! You could have been raped, or worse!” my mother huffs with worry, her tight grip on my hand making me angry.
Scowling, I jerk myself free.
“I guess we’ll just move again if that happened, won’t we?” I glare at them. Remembering when I told them about almost being raped in our last town. The silent stares, the hushed conversation before they decided we would move to avoid confrontation.
They did nothing to Brick, not even talk to his parents!
“River Addington,” my mother hisses.
“That kind of thing marks you and follows you. We didn’t want you to be known for something like that. We did what we thought was best,” Dad steps in.
I scoff. “We moved so you guys could make more money. Nobody even knew what happened to me because you forbid me to tell a soul about it. Remember!” I shout, my face turning red. Curling my fingers into the palm of my hands, my nails bite into my skin. I used to be sad about this subject, but anymore I’m just angry. I want to scream, I want to do something about it!
Both of my parents just stare at me with pale faces, not knowing what to say. Turning, biting my tongue not to say something I don’t mean to them I open my door to my room, and slam it shut. After a few seconds pass and I know they’re not going to come inside and continue their schooling. I head for my sleigh bed and leave a wake of wet clothes behind me as I climb up on expensive sheets and pillows.
Climbing under the covers, my body hypersensitive. I hope Warner is okay. I swear if his dad lays a finger on him, I’ll kill him.
I rub the empty space on my wrist where Warner took the lava bead bracelet, a void not only on my wrist but my whole body. I miss his touch. I miss him.
“Warner,” I whisper into the darkness before closing my eyes and falling asleep to the storm knocking on my window.
Warner
“You should stay away from that girl, Warner,” Sheriff Randall informs with a low voice, pulling out of the driveway.
“Why is that?” My tone bored. If anyone should stay away, it’s the other way around. River makes me a different person, and not a good one. I become animalistic around her, wanting to hurt and soothe her all at the same time. I become reckless and free.
He shakes his head, ignoring my question and pulls up to my house. His hat scraping the top of the headliner as the car rocks back and forth from my cracked driveway.
My dad isn’t waiting for me outside like River’s. Instead, when I get out, the Sheriff just follows me up to the front door. I open it and step inside, my dad is drinking beer watching TV in the dark in his sweatpants. He looks almost like me, except the wear of working outside and drinking all day. He’s aged faster than someone his age should at thirty-five from all his drinking. Once he sees the Sheriff behind me, he stands, trying to look sober and alert.
“What’s this about?” Dad asks, slurring.
Sheriff Randall takes his hat off in respect for my dad. They went to school together, and he thinks my dad is still the football god he was back then. Not a worthless drunk that he really is today. “Sorry for the late hour, Mr. Nine, but Warner was on the water tower with a young girl,” he explains.
Dad shoots me a look that could compare to looking down a rifle. Clenching my fists shut, I lift my chin, not daring to show a lick of fear. Fuck him.
“Is that right?” Dad’s voice eerily calm. His eyes conveying I’m going to get it when we’re alone.
“I don’t want to spread gossip, but this girl’s family has had its run-ins with the law… and I’m not so sure Warner should be hanging out with her for the sake of what lays in his future, you know?” Sheriff Randall wrinkles his nose, acting as if he’s doing me a favor whispering this information to my father.
Sheriff Randall gives me an off look before glancing back at my dad.
“Will do, sir. I’ll take care of it from here. Thank you for bringing him home and not the station.” Dad runs his hand through his hair, his gaze dropping to the floor.
Sheriff Randall gives a curt nod, silence taking over the room he gets the hint we’re done here.
“Alright, I better be getting. Nighttime, never know who is out there,” Sheriff Randall smirks, and my dad just glares at me.
As soon as Randall leaves I don’t give my dad a chance to holler at me. “He doesn’t know anything about Riv—”
Knuckles slam against the side of my face, and I fall into the wall. Pain blooms up my cheek and eye socket, my cheekbone smarting. The urge inside of me to fight back has my body shaking with anger, but I know it will only end with me having more bruises to cover up the next day, and broken furniture I’d have to fix this weekend. My dad is a drunk, he feels no pain so he can fight with me all night if he wants to. It’s best if I just get away from him.
“You need to stay away from that girl!” His body heaves with anger. Clenching my jaw, I stand and head to my room. River is not like her parents, but it would do no good telling him that.
“You’re pissing it away, Warner!” he booms down the hallway after me. Going emotionally numb, I shut my door behind me and lock it. My dad bangs and yells behind it causing it to rattle. He’s broke it down before, but I’ve reinforced it with stronger wood this time.
Stepping up to my window I don’t see a light on in River’s house, maybe that means her parents weren’t hard on her. I hope so.
I think about Sheriff Randall’s comment to my dad about her family having its run-ins with the law. I wonder if it’s worse than River knows.
Sighing, I shut my curtains. Even though she’s with her parents, I don’t feel like she’s safe enough over there by herself.
Falling on my bed, I pull a pillow over my sore face, and something wet presses against my forehead. Pushing the pillow away, I spot the rock bracelet I took from River. It looks like magma rock or something. It smells like her. Running my fingers along it, I think about her and how beautiful she was tonight. The storm behind her, the way her body rocked against me.
Fuck, it was something I’ve never seen before.
“River,” I whisper before flipping on my side and closing my eyes.
10
River
“They’re sinners!” -Church ladies at the Honey booth.
We pull up to the local fair the towns holding, there are cars parked all over the side of the road, four-wheelers, and even tractors. This is a new scene for my family and me, that’s for sure.
Mom gets out of the front of the car and smoothed her fine hair down. It’s split down the middle and put into a high ponytail. Her dress black and white, and skin tight.
“Could this place get any more redneck,” she sneers, putting on some white gloves.
“Just remember, dear, they have plenty of acres t
o buy,” Dad growls, adjusting his tie. This outing all business for him.
This is going to be humiliating, I can tell.
Mom glances over her shoulder and I notice the look in her eyes.
“River, I swear.” She scoffs, adjusting my dress. It’s three sizes too big and flows behind me when I walk. I love it. “Would it kill you to wear something that actually fits you and doesn’t look like you got it from a thrift shop?”
“It’s a fair, Mom,” I mumble. It smells like I would imagine a fair would smell like. Popcorn and the faint smell of fresh cotton candy twisting in the wind. Lively chatter around the way, and people of different sizes and shapes smiling at one another.
“Let’s go meet the townsfolks and see if we can’t make some friends, hmm?” Dad gives a tight-lipped smile, and by friends, he means potential buyers. I wish I would have come by myself.
Walking into the field mom has to pick her legs up with every stride, her Stilettos sticking into the soft grass. I bite my cheek to keep from laughing. She looks ridiculous.
“Hey, you must be the Addingtons!” A short man with a robust belly wearing overalls, steps in front of us. He’s shirtless with a hairy chest, and a farmer’s hat on his sweaty head.
“Uh, yes we are,” Mom hesitates, her face evident of disgust.
“Well nice to meet ya, I’m Farmer Corndog!” He chuckles, sweeping her gloved hand in for a shake. Mom squeals, and Father steps in between. I’m stuck on the fact they call him Corndog thought.
“If you will excuse us, we are trying to enjoy a family outing!” Dad’s pompous attitude causes my cheeks to warm. I really didn’t want to come out with them, I knew they would make a scene.
“Well, alright. Just make sure and check out the pie table. Best pies of the year!” He chuckles and waves someone else down walking behind us. He was so friendly I feel bad for him. My parents are going to eat this town alive.
Mom looks over her shoulder at me. “I love pie.” I shrug.
“You can’t be serious.” Mom’s eyes go wide as saucers.
“It’s like they found all the people of Walmart and stuck them at this fair,” Dad says a little too loudly. The ladies in the organic honey booth eyeing us with bitter eyes. They remind me of the fairies from Sleeping Beauty, their dresses in hat matching only different colors.
“Can we please just go try the pie,” I press along my parents’ backs, urging them away from wondering eyes.
Passing face painting, a bounce house, and beer chugging contest three tables lined up with pies greets us. They are so beautiful they look like something out of a cookbook.
“They smell amazing!” I smile, laying my hands on the blue plastic covering the tables.
“Oh, you must be the Addingtons!” A young blonde lady with hair so tall you’d think she spoke straight to God.
“That’s right.” I continue to gaze along the crusted lattice desserts.
“Oh you have to try my blackberry pie!” She grabs a plate and cuts into her pie. “I picked the berries myself!” she says with pride.
I hand a plate to my father, mother, and take one for myself. Scooping a spoonful into my mouth my tongue is greeted with a sweet buttery taste. I close my eyes and savor it. It’s homemade, not frozen from the store like mom gets. It’s amazing.
“Oh my, that’s horrible,” Mother says around a mouthful of half-chewed pie. My eyes snap open to her rude comment.
“Are you trying to kill us, these seeds are bigger than rocks!” Dad plops the plate down on the table, blackberry flying everywhere.
“I’m sorry!” The woman’s face turns bright red, and I can’t stand to be with my parents a minute longer. Turning on my heel, I notice the entire town looking at us. The band has stopped, the men drinking beer have set their cups down, and the kids stare from the screen in the bounce house.
“I’ll be in the car,” I mutter, passing my parents without a word. Quickly I weave through the crowd, feeling humiliated. Why did my parents come to this? They knew this would not be their scene. How did they expect to make any friends like this?
My eyes filling with warm tears, I round a big maple tree and smack into a familiar leather jacket.
“Warner!” I gasp.
He grabs onto my arms, lowering his head so our eyes meet. He smells good, like spice, and his hair is messy from the wind. He’s shirtless too, with low-rise jeans.
“You okay?”
“I—” Hesitating, I swallow. I don’t want to tell him about my parents. I don’t want him to meet them!
“Warner!” A man sitting on some hay bales spits in a Mountain Dew bottle, two guys behind him staring at us intently. Or should I say, glaring.
They all jump to their feet and stride our way.
“Tell your friend she needs to leave. Think her and her family have caused enough distress today.” His cold eyes and permanent frown line swing my way.
“Hey man, don’t talk to her like that!” Warner’s shoulder’s puff up. They are inches from each other’s face’s and I get a heavy feeling in my gut. I grab onto Warner’s sweaty arm.
“It’s ok. I was just leaving,” I spit, looking at the farmers as I say it. With my parents, nobody in this town will give me a chance and I don’t blame them. We’re a disaster waiting to happen.
They smile, their teeth stained yellow. Running my way back to the car my dress flows behind me. The smell of apples and green leaves swishing in the wind above me. This place could be really nice. It could be home if my home didn’t follow me that is
I didn’t say a word to my parents all the way home.
Getting up this morning I’m sore and really tired. My feet hit the plush carpet and I groan all the way to the closet to get a fresh pair of clothes. I get dressed in a maroon bralette and a boho style yellow dress with little flowers all over it. It will match my beaded sandals perfectly.
The dress is loose and comfy, and I head to the bathroom where I throw my long wavy hair up in a messy bun, not forgetting my favorite headband. The one Warner had. I cannot believe he kept it. I cannot believe he looked for me all spring either.
Drawing on some eyeliner and mascara, I decide that’s as good as it gets with the late night I had. Pressing my lips together I can feel butterflies bursting in my gut. I can’t wait to see Warner today. I wonder how much trouble he got in last night.
Putting on my bracelets, I head downstairs to the dining room table for breakfast, my mom and dad are already at the table eating. My father ate his slice of grapefruit already in his pressed suit, and my mother is blowing on her coffee, lost in thought as usual.
I opt for a glass of apple juice and grab a slice of toast sitting on a plate. Nobody talks, the room filled with tension and many things we want to say, but don’t.
Finishing my breakfast, I give a quick smile. I need to get out of here before they start in on me again.
“Bye,” I whisper.
“Bye dear, have a great day!” my mother hollers. Grabbing my backpack, my driver is parked out front waiting for me. I stop, I really need to talk to my parents about getting my license. Glancing over my shoulder, I think about going back inside, but after last night maybe now is not a good time.
Jogging down the steps, I climb in the back seat, my eyes on Warner’s house as we pass. I wonder if he’s gotten his truck yet.
Arriving at school, I get out and notice more eyes on me today than usual. Head down, my loose bangs fall in my eyes. Giggles, guys hollering and whistling, has me looking over my shoulder. Is it just me or is everyone over excited about something today?
Stepping into the hallway, I see people taking photos with their phones, and girls covering their mouth and laughing. I stop, frowning. What the hell is going on? Shoving through the crowd to get to my locker, I find polaroids of me in the locker room with no panties on stuck to my locker. A sign taped in between them saying:
We wear panties here, Hippie!
My chest constricts as if my heart has stopp
ed beating. A rush of warmth spreads across my cheeks as these pictures show every inch of my intimate parts as I change in the girl’s locker room. I suddenly feel ugly and embarrassed of my body. My body tingles with fear and dread, and I can’t breathe.
“No,” I whisper, stepping forward to cover the pictures. How long have these been up? How did a teacher not see these? Everyone keeps laughing and standing around with their phones raised recording my reaction. “No. No. No.” I start tearing the photos down, my eyes filling with tears with humiliation. All the photos pressed into my palm, I hang my head, my breathing erratic. Who did this? Who would do such a thing?
Turning around to face everyone, I start to become angry. “Who did this?” I demand, emotion choking my words.
Kellie and her crew are leaning up against some lockers on the other side of the hall staring right at me, and my eyes narrow in on them. It was her. Kellie. I know it. I bite my tongue to keep from crying, I won’t let her see me cry. That bitch!
Quickly I turn to shove the photos inside my locker, opening the flimsy metal door, a bunch of fabric flies at my face. Jumping back, I notice it’s a ton of assorted color panties.
I turn, and Kellie steps up.
“Yeah, we were going to donate them to the shelter, but we figured you needed them more.” She giggles to herself, and I realize she’s the fucking Devil. The mean girl of all mean girls.
I don’t know whether to cry, or fucking strangle her with her stained panties.
Axel, a football guy from the looks of his letterman jacket, strides up to me, his hands outstretched. He must be friends with Warner if he’s on the team. Getting closer to me, I think he’s going to try and hide me from the crowd, so I take a step up to him.
“I see why Warner called dibs on you and told everyone on the football team to stay away from you.” He chuckles, and my eyes widen. Warner did what? Axel grabs at my dress trying to pull it up. “Are you wearing panties today little Hippie?”
Tears slip down my cheeks, and my mouth drops with surprise.