by AJ Summer
I blush and look down. “Yeah sure,” I mumble.
“Can you friggin’ blame the girl, Alec? Those boys are gorgeous! I just want to squeeze Jase so hard; he has this poor lost boy thing going on. I'm afraid he'll bite my arm off if I try, though,” Livvy says laughing to herself.
I scowl at her but instantly feel bad. I really can’t blame her. I feel the same, but I’m stupid enough to risk losing an arm. I’ll even lie down and let him nibble on the damn thing if he wants too. I suppose that's why my head is so hung up on Jase. I've got a good heart, always quick to care. That little fact changed after Kyle died, so why now? Great, more annoying questions. I don’t need a lost bad boy to screw around with my head. I need to finish college and get the hell away from this town and the memories that haunt me.
The bell on the front door jingles, and I look up into beautiful, green pools of sin. My heart speeds up. My belly flutters. My whole body tingles with nervous excitement. Like I'll go groupie and follow him everywhere he goes just to get that feeling every time he looks at me.
Alec gets up and leads Jase to the back, releasing me from my dazed stupor. I raise an eyebrow at Livvy, and she answers me with a smile so big I fear her ears might pop off. I refuse to look away from her face as the slow rhythmic thuds of his heavy boots drum on the floor. He’s walking towards me where I'm sitting flipping through a file filled with tattoos. His hands are at my eye level, but I still don’t look away from Livvy. She raises her eyebrow at me, but all I can see is Jase drying his hands on a paper towel. His fingers leave little black prints all over the white tissue. I want to be that tissue. What do his hands feel like? Are they rough and calloused? Or are they soft and warm. A tingle runs up my spine, and I sit up straighter, locking eyes with him. The green orbs study me, making me feel like he can see straight into my soul. Maybe he really is the devil sent to drag me to hell for my sins. He smiles at me, and this one is different than the wicked one that steals my breath. This one lights up his eyes and transforms his face. This one is the angel inside of him. I can't help it, I smile back. My heart beats a little faster when he squeezes in next to me to flip through the file. My hands shake so much when I try to turn the page that I just drop the file into his lap and stick them into my hoodie pockets.
Jase starts talking; I close my eyes and lose myself in the sound. His voice is gruff like sea sand sliding through your fingers leaving behind that rough tingling sensation. I force myself to listen to what he is telling me, but even with utmost concentration I only catch a few words. I catch the words that matter. Alec said he can train here. He wants to be a tattoo artist. Jase is halfway through the file when two girls walk in. Livvy points them in our direction, and I look around for Alec.
“Alec will be right out; you girls go ahead and show Jase what you have in mind.” Her words hardly leave her mouth before the girls are on top of us. Why did she do that? I frown at her. She smiles back at me looking a bit confused. Maybe she didn’t mean anything by it. But Jase is just a trainee; surely he can’t help these chicks. Or maybe she’s just trying to help him fit in?
Both chicks smile coyly at Jase and ignore me. Well that's fine by me. I just don't like how they are looking at him. I don't care if they have tattoos or piercings and short skirts and boots. All the girls in this town are so predictable. Money, money, money. It’s all that matters to them. That and new talent. Jase is definitely new talent.
“Whoa…” I jump up and grab the redhead by the hand, who is trying to yank up her shirt.
“Let go of me, bitch. I'm trying to show him the spot,” she screeches.
I take a deep breath and drop her arm. “We don't undress in the front of the shop. If you want to expose yourself please do so in the back.” I want to add, “and save me the mental scaring,” but the impact of what I just said hits me like water from a fire hose in a blaze. Shit, I just told her to take Jase to the back where she'll probably flash her tits at him. I mentally palm slap my forehead. Repeatedly and very hard.
The redhead grabs Jase by the hand and starts walking. She takes two full steps before she realizes he is not following her. Jase shakes his head.
“Alec will be out soon. It’s better if you wait for him. You girls decided what you want to get? Just because you chose a spot you think is sexy doesn't mean a tattoo will magically grow there.”
I giggle at his comment. Those are the most words I've heard him say this whole day. The redhead and her friend glare at me before sinking down onto the single-seater holding the file between them. If Jase is training with Alec, that means he is going to get an eye full of this bitch’s junk whether I like it or not. I slide off my stool and grab my bag. I smile at Livvy and look at Jase.
“Bye, Jase.” My voice catches on the last part, and I feel tears climbing up my throat. Why am I sad? Maybe because I intend for that goodbye to mean more than just a see you later. I grab his smokes and lighter lying next to him and light one, not bothering to ask first. Once my lungs are filled with deathly courage, I smile at him and tell Livvy to say bye to Alec for me. I flip my hoodie over my head, pulling it low over my brimming eyes before I slip through the door.
***
WHAT GOES BUMP IN THE NIGHT
I have no tears for the monster in my closet.
I'm not afraid of the bogeyman under my bed.
The demons in my head fill me with regret.
No switch of light to chase the horrors away,
These memories remain, these memories stay.
What goes bump in the night?
What makes you wrap your blanket tight?
Manmade hell, Manmade pain.
Man made this prison for me to remain.
I wake up to the sound of my door banging against my dresser shoved in front of it. It’s still dark, so it’s either early morning or really late.
“Mia, please open the door?” Mom’s voice is soft and scared.
I curse when my naked feet hit the cold floor, but I move fast and get the dresser out of the way. Once she's inside, I move it back in front of the door. Mom’s nightgown is torn in front. It looks like he grabbed her again and her hair is messy, so it probably happened while she was sleeping. He is such a damn coward! I stare into her big brown eyes. They are the same eyes I see every time I look into a mirror.
“Just kick the fucker out, Mom.” I move to the other side of my bed and shove it against my dresser, effectively barring the door from any unwelcome visitors. He knows she's in here. It won't be long before he comes banging on my door. He can bang all he wants. I'm not letting her out unless he burns this house down. My stepdad is a crazy drunk, so he might even do it. I hate him. Mom has kicked him out so many times we don’t have enough fingers and toes to count. Somehow, she thinks she needs him. Maybe she does, seeing as she doesn't have a job anymore, and he made sure of that. I will never put up with a man's crap like that. I climb back into bed when Mom sits down on the chair by the window to keep watch. I pull the thin comforter over my head and count, waiting for the banging to start.
1-2-3-4
The house is completely quiet.
5-6-7
Footsteps.
8-9-10-11
BANG, BANG, BANG. My thin wooden door rattles from the force.
“You stupid whore!” he yells.
BANG, BANG, BANG. The wood creaks and groans.
“Hiding behind your slut daughter!”
BANG, BANG, BANG. One of the door panels breaks, and a small splinter falls to my floor. I'm not a slut, and I'm sure Mom isn't a whore, or else we would actually have food in this house.
BANG, BANG, BANG, until he gets tired or passes out, I'm not sure which. I look at the time on my cell—3 a.m. I miss Kyle. Kyle would’ve kicked his ass. I fall asleep when I’m sure we aren’t going to be cooked alive and dream of my twin brother and how happy we all were eleven months ago.
DAY TWO
I wake up before my alarm goes off and look around the room. The dresser has been move
d slightly, and Mom is nowhere to be seen. I jump out of bed, fear turning my stomach. I run down the passage to the kitchen and stop short when I find Mom making coffee and him sitting at the table with his head on his arms. He doesn't know I'm standing here, but Mom sees me and holds a cup out to me. I tiptoe over to her on my bare feet and take the cup, offering her a small smile. I sip the coffee on my way back to my room. Mom makes the best coffee. I make my bed and take out my clothes for the day. Jeans, blue hoodie, and my old ratty sneakers. The only pair of shoes I own. I've been trying to save for new ones, but Mom has been struggling at home, and the couple of bucks I get from cleaning around the parlor really aren’t cutting it.
Thank God, Dad had an education policy for me and Kyle, that pays for the first year of college.
I wash my hair and shower quickly, I have plenty of time, but the nicotine cravings are spurring me on. I dress and put on some black liner before running a brush through my damp hair. I separate the strands wildly with my fingers and pop my earphones into my ears. I pull my hoodie over my head and close my bedroom door behind me.
Mom is still in the kitchen, but he is gone. I wave to her and leave the house.
Two houses down the street, I notice the rusty truck driving next to me. I look over and see James driving and Lewis sitting next to him. Jase is sitting in the back. I hit pause on my phone and look at Lewis who seems to be saying something to me. I take a step closer.
“Need a ride?” he says smirking. I’m sure he means something totally different than actually giving me a lift to school. But my eye catches the cigarette nestled between his fingers. I want to say no because saying yes would mean I have to sit in the back with Jase, but the cravings get the better of me. Cravings for what I’m not sure. Jase or the nicotine? I grab the smoke from Lewis before climbing rather gracelessly into the back.
Jase flashes his wicked smile at me, and I can't help but wonder what he’s thinking. Jase is quiet the entire drive to campus. Even though it only lasts about five minutes. He doesn’t even move. I find myself staring at the chaffed points of his black boots the entire way.
I'm lifted suddenly from the back of the truck by Lewis, and he spins me in the air before putting me down and placing a soft kiss on my head. His lips linger on my head for a little while longer than necessary, before he inhales deeply through his nose. Did Lewis just sniff me?
“Have a good one, baby girl,” he says before climbing back into the truck.
I blink my eyes a couple of times trying to figure out what the hell just happened. And then I realize I don’t really mind. I like the way Lewis is always teasing me. It makes me feel normal. Jase swings himself off the back of the truck. The black shirt he is wearing rides up and reveals a sliver of taut flesh on his belly. A swarm of butterflies take flight in my stomach, and my skin tingles and warms all over. He isn't wearing a hoodie today, but he still has those sexy locks covered in a black beanie. The look gives him a kind of rock star appearance, and I imagine a group of girls swarming him and swooning at his feet. Jase stops a few feet ahead of me. The side of his mouth turns up deliciously, and he tilts his head towards the building. I walk towards him quickly and picture myself stretching out my hand towards his waiting form. Mentally, I'm kicking my ass for having these silly thoughts, but I can't help smiling at the idea.
Jase walks me to my first class and with a brief nod disappears down the hall.
***
Jase isn't in either of my two classes before my break, and I almost run across the street to Alec's parlor. Disappointment sinks like a rock in my stomach when I realize he isn't there. I walk through to the kitchen and try not to let the disappointment show on my face. My high of this morning is now completely gone.
I make the three cups of coffee and take a seat on the outside table at the back of the store. I light the smoke I managed to buy during my second class. But even my salvation of nicotine has no effect on me. Smoking and writing, the two things that always make me feel better. I watch the smoke curl around my fingers as Alec takes a seat next to me. I nip the smoke. I’ll smoke it later when I can actually taste the damn thing.
“What's up, baby girl?” he asks. Alec is like a big brother to me. A really big brother with brightly colored tattoos over bulging forearms. He has big, blue, friendly eyes that are watching me a little too closely right now.
I shrug. “Nothing much today. I don't think I can come by this afternoon. Mom and he had a fight last night. I don't want her to be alone if he gets home.” I sound whiny, and maybe I am because that means I won’t see Jase.
“Not much to do here today. Livvy, Jase, and I can handle it. Speaking of the boy, he is quite good. Did his first tattoo last night. I think he's practiced somewhere before.” It’s odd that Alec calls Jase a boy, he isn’t that much older than us.
The thought of Jase being here while I’m stuck at home makes tears ride up my throat. Once every now and again I’m reminded of how much my life sucks. Days like these strangle my heart until it barely moves in my chest. I shake my head and down the rest of my coffee before slamming the cup down twice shooter style. I light the nipped cigarette.
“See you tomorrow, Alec,” I say cheerily. That's my talent. Never let anyone see what you truly feel. I wave to Livvy on my way out, and she waves back.
I take a deep drag from the cigarette once I'm outside. I watch the glowing ember burn bright orange before I kill it on my wrist.
DAY THREE
The beeping of my alarm lets me know the dreaded day has arrived. It’s my 19th birthday. The same day I shared with my twin brother who died while we were on summer vacation last year.
The creak of my door opening pulls my eyes away from the ceiling and to Mom. I watch her walk towards me with a small cupcake in her hand. The single flame of the candle on top dances happily. Childish joy bubbles in my chest, and I scramble up against my head board.
“Happy birthday, Angel. May all your wishes come true,” Mom says before sitting down on the bed. I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and blow out the candle. I wish for a lost bad boy with pitch black hair and eyes as green as the greenest meadow. A flash of guilt surges through me for my selfish wish. I should wish for a better life for me and Mom.
Mom reaches down and pulls a square box wrapped in pink paper from under my bed. I'm sure I look like a goof with my big grin, and I grab her around her neck.
“Thanks, Mom!” I yell, taking the box from her and tearing into the paper. I lift the lid and gasp at the beautiful black boots inside. I lift one up and see a red and black checked miniskirt tucked under the remaining boot. Tears well up in my eyes, and I scrub them away roughly. Mom has the happiest look on her face. I don't want to ruin this for her, but I know there's no way she can afford this.
“Mom, this is beautiful, but how did you buy this?” I ask her carefully.
Her smile falters slightly, but she fixes it right up. “Don't you worry about it. Now put those on. I’ll wait downstairs,” she says before walking out of the room.
I put the boots back into the box and make my bed. I shower quickly, trying to win some extra minutes with Mom before I have to leave for school. I'm happy, but there's a dark fog lurking at the edge of my mind. It creeps toward my conscious, clouding my head with unnecessary thoughts. I slap it away trying to stay cheery. I will not ruin this for Mom but I can't help wondering where she got the money for my gift. I push the question away one more time and decide that I won’t ask Mom about it again. I will have to find out on my own.
I hunt in my closet for something decent to wear with my new skirt and boots. I should have a plain black jersey in here somewhere along with some tights. I only wore those once, eleven months ago to Kyle’s funeral.
“Happy birthday, bro!” I say to no one. And “I’m so sorry,” I whisper to my empty room. I squeeze my eyes closed tightly to keep the welling tears inside, but when I pull on the tights, there's a small run on the right leg and the first tear sneaks out. Suddenly, I fe
el defeated. Do I just make the run longer and make a matching one on the other side? I shake my head, remembering Mom’s smiling face this morning. No, Mom wouldn't like that. I put on my skirt and jersey and fix my hair into a loose side braid to hang over my shoulder. I put the black knitted cap hanging on the side of my dresser onto my head. That way some of my hair is covered. I grab my cupcake and bag and head to the kitchen.
He already left for work, so I sit down at the table where Mom is waiting with two cups of coffee. I smile at her and break my cupcake in half to share with her. She smiles brightly as she takes a big bite out of it.
“You look beautiful, Mia. I can't believe you grew up so fast. And I like your hair,” she says.
I blush and look down at the table. Mom is a beautiful woman. I've got her dark brown hair but currently my head is an array of red and black stripes. I also got Mom’s big brown eyes. Kyle had Dad’s blue eyes but Mom’s dark hair. I miss Kyle. I know Mom does too. I can see it in the way she's looking at me right now. Like she's wondering what he'd be doing if he were here. I should’ve died, not Kyle. He would’ve meant so much more to Mom than me.
I finish my coffee and walk over to Mom to give her a kiss on the cheek. I'm halfway to the door when I remember my cupcake and run back for it. Mom is sitting back in her chair holding her cup with both her hands. She tilts her head to the side and looks at me confused. I reach over the table for my half of the cupcake. It’s then that I see how Mom was able to buy my present. Her gold wedding band that she wore on her necklace is gone. The realization makes me stumble, and my hipbone knocks into the side of the table. I jump upright and rub at the stinging flesh. The emotional rollercoaster I’ve been on all morning finally crashes. Tears spring up in my eyes. Mom sold her ring for me. Her wedding ring. The only thing she had left of Dad. A loud sob escapes my throat. I’m aware of Mom watching me, so I rub the spot where I banged my hip against the table. It works because Mom mistakes my tears as tears of pain. She walks over to me and hugs me tightly while laughing softly.