Marc and Angie

by Angela White

  Patty slowly shook her head, still searching. “The sacrifice is worthy, but the pain may last lifetimes.”

  “What can I do?”

  Patty came back, hair settling down onto her thin shoulders. “Always make the best choice for the future, not for yourself.”

  She stood up as my mouth opened. “I can’t say more.”

  I was angry that my future was always dictated by people other than me, but I could understand how my power might help the world. What if I found a cure for something that saved millions of lives? Was that worth giving up Marc? Because it would have to be something that big for me to agree.

  Patty handed me a thin book from under her desk. “I think you’re ready for this now.”

  I blushed furiously as I read the title.

  How to Please Yourself.

  Patty chuckled as I immediately took it to the table and started reading. I knew it was a distraction, but I couldn’t help being intrigued.

  ‘Maybe that will keep you out of trouble this winter,” she stated, locking the door to do her money count and paperwork. Because of reporters who didn’t knock, everyone now locked their doors at night. It was sad.

  I poured over the book and finished it in about an hour, relieved in several ways. Now I understood why my breathing got funny and why I wanted to keep kissing Marc forever. My body was preparing to accept his in those moments. I liked that idea, but this wasn’t what I’d come for and I approached Patty hesitantly. She was in the back, warming up old stew for dinner.

  “You feel troubled tonight, child,” Patty observed, setting two places at the table. My stomach growled eagerly.

  “I don’t want him to get in trouble. But I don’t want to stop, either.”

  Patty ladled the stew into bowls without answering right away. I could feel her wondering how far we’d gone.

  My face flamed. “Just kissing.”

  Patty’s tense shoulders relaxed and she gave me a proud smile. “If he were a bad man, it wouldn’t stop with kisses.”

  I took my seat, saying, “But I don’t want him to stop at all. It...”

  I broke off, cheeks scarlet and mind all mixed up.

  “Feels too good?” Patty supplied, pouring two small cups of milk.

  I wasn’t sure I could explain it. “It’s right.”

  “But everyone else is against it, including the law?” Patty asked, as if she’d been waiting for this moment.

  As I recalled how often she’d been prepared for whatever question or problem I had, I guessed that was probably true.

  “Yes. He could go to jail.”

  Patty handed me a chunk of the bread that we’d made together. It was called sourdough and it was made from the very last piece of old dough, called a starter. Some sourdough recipes had starters from bread that had been baked a hundred years ago. I thought that was cool.

  “Is the threat of jail the reason he only kisses?” Patty asked.

  I thought about it and answered, “No. He wants me to be older. He says I’m not ready for the things he wants to do with me.”

  Patty chuckled. “Wise man you got there, honey. My advice is to listen to him and go slow. You only get to do these things, to feel this way, once in a lifetime. Go slow and be careful. You don’t want to end up like Snow.”

  I grimaced, making a funny face so that Patty would smile. Snow now had two kids and lived in a trailer on the rear street. I’d heard she was now like my mom used to be–buyable.

  “I won’t. I’m gonna be a writer, I think. Marc said I could stay home if I wanted or have a job. I decided I want a job first and then his kids.”

  “So you have time together first?” Patty asked, biting her cheek to keep from laughing at me. I wasn’t offended. I knew what it sounded like to an adult, but I meant every word.

  “Mostly so we can take care of them,” I told her, fun leaving the atmosphere. “I won’t ever have a child that I can’t take care of or that I’m not able to love. I’d rather not have kids at all than to treat them this...that way.”

  Patty came over and hugged me, one of the few times she felt like she could, I assume.

  “You’re a sweet girl and a smart girl. Hang on. You’re almost free.”

  Those words from her meant more than when I said it. Patty was my strength in so many ways. If I had known how fast time changes things, I would have spent more of it with her. But I didn’t. I was just a teenager with her own concerns to be dealt with or suffered through. I didn’t understand how fragile and brief our lives actually are.

  I began ninth grade in the fall of 1996 and quickly discovered that high school wasn’t any better than junior high. In fact, it was scary, where the other schools hadn’t been. On my first day, while we were being assigned lockers, I saw a knife fight. The blood that pooled on the black-n-blue tiled floor haunted my dreams for weeks. Then there were the locker searches, the metal detectors, and the way the senior kids scanned the freshman as if they were about to have a feast. I hated it, but I tolerated the seven hours that I had to be there because I knew I couldn’t be a good wife and earner without an education.

  I did get to go through most of my classes unmolested by bullies now. My attack on Verina had spread to the high school and only the kids who could back it up chose me as a target. After a month or two of me fighting, (I won as many as I lost, so that was good) the rest of the senior females left me alone. I blackened eyes and split lips, ripped out handfuls of pretty hair.

  I was known for not stopping even when the girl cowered at my feet, bleeding. I had a hard time with that. Once I drew blood, I always wanted more of it.

  The boys, however, were another story. They were soft at first, flirting and trying to buy my lunch, but as the fall break approached, they became more persistent. A group of them liked to ‘escort’ me from class to class and to the bus. Then they wanted to sit too close and put their hands on me in ways that Marc hadn’t even done. I didn’t care for any of them and I made that so clear that I got the reputation as a lesbian and became isolated again. It went well with my fighting and nasty mouth when angered and I didn’t try to convince people otherwise. It actually made me happy when all my teachers were able to tell my parents that I didn’t willingly hang out with any of the males or the females. Georgie especially liked hearing that. My mom didn’t care. Her addictions had complete control now.

  As my birthday drew closer, and my body continued to fill out, I learned to skip the showers at school after gym class and to wear jeans, never a skirt. I also avoided the alley between the band and art dorm, where the smokers hung out. Most of the time it was okay there, but I’d walked that gauntlet when it was full of boys after the football game and I almost hadn’t made it out the other side. I ended up using my gifts, sending a stinging mental blast that distracted the groping hands and snickering minds so I could flee. No matter where I was or how old I got, peace wasn’t something I ever got much of. That was for people like Jeanie and mother Brady.

  October arrived as the furor over Fernald finished dying down, and the flow of relatives visiting me increased. They all wanted to view the park for the first time. Stricker’s gates closed each November and people were afraid to wait any longer and miss their chance. Mother Brady had heard of my visitors by now and she hadn’t scolded any of them. Plus, I was still employed there, so they assumed they could get away with it too. We all should have known better than to cross her, of course, but the amusement park had been forbidden for so long that it was worth the risk at the time.

  On the day it all came to a head, I woke two hours before my alarm and couldn’t get back to sleep. I listened to Frona and Georgie arguing about the plans for the day. She wanted to stay closed because of my birthday. It was a great excuse to drink. Georgie wanted to do it on a break. The restaurant was still hurting for money.

  I tuned them out, wishing they would ask me, even once. I would have told them I wanted to pretend it was any other day. I was on fall break right now, another ye
ar closer to the future, and with Georgie always exposing himself or touching me, or making me do things to him, I was scared. I avoided him as much as I could, but that was making him even more insistent. I didn’t understand why he hadn’t already raped me. He was obviously able to do whatever he wanted.

  I crawled from bed and dressed, then slid from the trailer without alerting them or leaving a note. They knew I had to work this afternoon. They would think that was where I’d gone. I just wanted a few minutes alone without hearing them bitch at each other. It was never ending and kept me stressed, always wondering if this would be the fight where Georgie killed my mom. If he ever snapped, once she was gone, I would be next, but my death at his hands wouldn’t be the quick neck break or the sleeping pills in beer that I suspected Georgie wanted to arrange for my mom. My death would take days. After waiting so long, I had no illusions that he would be gentle. I could only hope that Marc timed it right and got me out of here before that happened. Considering that Marc didn’t know we had a time problem, I wasn’t counting on it. I was trying to accept the fact that Georgie would get what he wanted. Afterward, Marc would take me away from here and I would try to recover.

  I had considered going to the police or even mother Brady at times, but I knew what happened to those girls later. Peggy Shaffer had claimed sexual abuse by her uncle last year. No one had found any proof and Peggy had been left in their home. She was still coming to school with bruises that the teachers overlooked. I hated them for that. How could they not protect innocent kids? Wasn’t that an adult’s duty? I didn’t understand the rules of being a grownup. Some days, most days, I didn’t want to understand. It seemed like to be an adult, you had to hurt people and that didn’t appeal to me.

  Before my shift that day, I spent a little time on the tire swing and running through the corn. Then I practiced with my knife for a bit, thinking I would probably never be good with it. My fingers always did the opposite of what I wanted.

  None of those activities satisfied me and I surrendered to what I had really come for, ducking into the clubhouse. I stretched out on the couch that Marc had dragged in here last year and a few minutes later, was busy taking care of my needs. I hadn’t been exploring my body for long, but I was starting to understand why sex was so important to people. The ending felt good!

  Quickly nearing that edge of wonder, I opened my eyes to find Marc standing in the door side of the clubhouse with a stunned expression on his handsome face.

  I froze.

  “Please,” he choked out. “Please, don’t stop!”

  Fire swept through me and I gave him what we both wanted–I climaxed while he watched. As I shuddered and groaned, staring at him, I had one thought: I love you.

  Marc stiffly turned away and left. I respected him for his control.

  “Thank you, baby.”

  I giggled at the strained gratitude and fixed my clothes. This birthday had already been one to remember.

  “Tomorrow?” I called eagerly.

  “In a few days.”

  Disappointed, I rose with a scowl, great mood gone. I could have had Marc time today, but I’d blown it.

  I’m sorry, I sent mentally, not sure how far away he was now.

  Don’t be, baby, he answered, still sounding choked. It was beautiful.

  I wondered if he meant that. There was silence again for a moment and I could feel him wanting to say something else. I kept our minds connected in case he gathered the courage.

  I’m not scared of anything!

  We were both surprised at the revelation that he could hear my thoughts. I’d never had that happen. The witch usually guarded my mind.

  Lost in the discovery, I kept us connected as I went to work. The walk took me ten minutes. I was almost there when Marc finally broke the silence.

  Will you do that again...for me?

  I blushed, body waking back up. While you watch?

  I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. Please forget it.

  I’m here. I have to go now.

  Have a great day, baby.

  Heat seared me again and I broke the connection, but I didn’t forget that Marc had asked me for something. Even when I noticed the police officers at the park gate, it lingered in my thoughts.

  The officers asked for identification–something I didn’t have yet, and I instinctively told them I was a customer, not an employee. I was informed that the park was closed. Indefinitely.

  They didn’t give me a reason, but as I stood there, trying to figure out how to read their minds without being caught or how to trick them into telling me, mother Brady’s car pulled into the lot. She slowly drove by, smirking, so that I would know who was responsible.

  Anger and despair came, but there was also determination to best the woman at something, anything. She had to learn she wasn’t better than everyone else was and at some point, I thought fate would take care of that. What I wanted to teach her involved a split lip and a long lecture on being a good person. Mary Brady was anything but.

  To my surprise, Mary stopped next to me and her window rolled down. Wondering where her driver was, I waited tensely for the threat or whatever she wanted to throw. I expected it to be ugly and I wasn’t sure how I might respond. I had a lot of bad feelings inside right now.

  “Marcus is home.”

  “So?” I threw right back, glowering at her. “Why tell me?”

  I’d been working on keeping emotions and reactions off my face since Patty mention how bad a liar I was. I thought I did a good job now.

  “Because you’re a wild, reckless child, of course,” Mary stated as if we were discussing the weather. “Be very careful, my girl. Oh, so careful.”

  She rolled into the park before I could form a response and the officers locked the gate behind her, eliminating any chance of further communication.

  I headed toward the trailer park in a state of confusion. Why would she tell me Marc was home? Hoping we’d rush out and get caught together? Then why warn me to be careful?

  The woman was slick, evil, and I worked on her motives for the rest of that long, hot day. What was she trying to pull?

  Chapter Nineteen

  October to December

  Marc

  I was terrified as I stopped outside the clubhouse. This was Angie’s fifteenth birthday. She expected us to be intimate. And I wanted it more than I could say. When she’d first begun to remind me of my promise, I’d been forced to make plans. I often forgot that her age and her mind were different. When I considered us being together, I knew slow was best, but she hated it. She wouldn’t care for how we were going to crawl along, but it was necessary. I hoped the delivery of these moments would allow me to stretch things out, but if she forced my hand, I would have to go away again.

  “I won’t.”

  Angie’s voice from inside the clubhouse reminded me that the time for thought was over. My body jumped to life. Now was the time for action. Angie and I were about to have our first milestone and I would enjoy every second of it. I’d already taken care myself so much over the last two weeks with these memories of catching her pleasing herself that I was nearly raw. I thought that would help me stay in control. Tonight was about her, not me.

  Angie

  “Happy birthday, baby.”

  I heard the difference in Marc’s voice as he greeted me. The intense longing in his tone flooded me with those cravings again and I didn’t wait to make sure that we were alone like I usually did. I threw myself into his arms for a kiss. Now he would give me what I’d been asking for.

  Marc kissed me back the way I had been dreaming of and his hands dropped to my hips in a way that sent chills over my teenage body. When he stopped, I was breathing funny again.

  Marc had gotten taller and he grinned down at me with some secret knowledge that I was tired of being excluded from. Before I could protest, he kissed me again.

  I surrendered eagerly. I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned against him. His hands went to my hips an
d his tongue slid over my lips, drawing a rough moan from my throat. I hadn’t known that was coming.

  I wanted to stop and ask questions now, but Marc pushed against my lips and I opened, enjoying one of the few French kisses he’d given me so far. I didn’t want the moment to end.

  Marc broke the kiss with a series of tiny presses against my lips in between mutters about control and patience. I didn’t know what he meant, but I was willing.

  Marc led us into the clubhouse to sit down. With the fire going, it was warmer inside, cheery, and I hurried to pour him a cup of the tea that I’d been perfecting. No one ever noticed the small amounts of tea bags and sugar I snuck out.

  Marc set the cup down and led me to the couch that we’d covered with blankets and cushions scrounged from older people in the trailer park.

  “I want to give you your present.”

  We sat down close enough for me to feel the muscles in his leg tighten as I shifted. He smelled good. “What is it?”

  Marc handed me a small box with a red ribbon. “A promise ring.”

  I couldn’t stop the tears as Marc put the silver band on my finger. It fit perfectly.

  “Are you still sure?” he asked nervously.

  I nodded, wiping at my cheeks. I buried my head against his chest when I couldn’t stop crying. Deep down, I think a part of me had been positive that he was lying to get what he wanted, just like the other males in my life. This was proof that I was wrong.

  “Hey! I’ll get you a better one later,” Marc joked, making me snort loudly.

  I got myself together, trying to find the words to tell him how much this ring already meant to me, but Marc kissed me again. Like that first one, it was intense. When he drew back, I’d forgotten how to speak, let alone how to think.

  Marc ran a thumb over my lips, making me shiver. “Do you still want to do more?”

  I nodded quickly, but still couldn’t form words.

  Marc hugged me, chin coming down to rest against my neck. “I get worried I’m going too slow. That you’ll get impatient and find someone else to show you these things.”