by AJ Summer
“Old enough to be doing that,” Jase says next to me. I jump out of my staring stupor and look up into his wicked grin.
“Are you old enough to do that?” I blurt out. Stupid, stupid Mia, he has probably done that and more. You are probably one of few girls your age with such little experience, Dark snarls in my brain. Heat rises in my cheeks and warms my ears. What is Jase supposed to think of me staring at his friend making out?
“Come on, let's get some ‘air’,” Jase chuckles while quoting with his fingers. I follow him outside where he closes the back door and leans against it. Blocking it to anyone who wants to come outside. I can see the party going on inside when I look through the window. For a moment, I feel like an outsider watching in on my own life. How much has it changed since Jase walked into it?
Jase clears his throat and hands me the smoke.
“I haven't seen you smoke once since you got here two hours ago,” he says.
“Mom doesn't know I smoke. I prefer it that way. One less disappointment,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.
He doesn't say anything just watches me while I fill my lungs with the toxic relief.
“Thanks for the gift,” I say. I want to ask him why he chose that word, but he has that “I'm untouchable” feel around him again. I want to push against that bubble, see how much it takes before it pops. How I got there, I don't know, but soon I'm standing right in front of him staring into those possessing green eyes. Maybe he willed me over here, maybe I willed myself. I don't know and I'm not sure I care. I don't want to step away from him. He takes a deep breath, and his chest rubs against my mine. A tiny tingle runs from the places of contact to low in my belly. It feels like a nest of butterflies got loose in there. I'm not sure when I stopped breathing, but by the time Jase puts his hands on my face and pulls me closer, I feel dizzy.
He brushes his lips against mine so softly that I squeeze my eyes closed tightly, praying my hands don't reach out and pull him closer. My fingers twitch, and the cigarette falls to the ground. I open my eyes and take a shallow breath before I look up into his face. He pulls me to him harder, and I grab onto his hips to steady myself. My fingers touch the small piece of exposed skin between his jeans and hoodie. It’s soft and warm, and I can't help it, I inch my fingers higher up under the clothing until all my fingers and my palm rest against him. I'm not sure, but I think I sigh against his mouth. He just feels so good. I move my other hand under his hoodie as well, my greedy little hands unable to resist another touch. I run both hands up and down his back. I'm so caught up in the feel of his skin under my hands I didn't even notice we stopped kissing until I feel him smile against my lips.
“You like that, Mia,” he states. He keeps telling me what I like. Not that I can argue about it. He has been spot on everytime. I nod my head slightly with his forehead still rested against mine. “Let's see if you like this,” he says before pulling my bottom lip into his mouth and grazing it with his teeth. My nails curl into his flesh and I whimper. Shit, I whimpered? I'm going to make a fool of myself. I don't get to dwell on that thought long before Jase moves his lips against mine from side to side. This is not a kiss; it’s more him stroking his lips against mine. I don't know, but the way the snake bite on the side of his lip tickles against my bottom lip feels really good. He has definitely done this before. Jase lowers his hands from my face down to my hips. I don't move my hands from his back, his skin feels too good against mine, and he just smiles at me. When his hands settle on my hips, I hope he’ll pull me closer, but instead he nudges me back a step and I drop my hands.
“We better get back inside. I don't want your mom to get the wrong idea,” he says.
Rejection is hard and fierce, and I feel like a silly girl for hanging onto him like that. But he grabs my hand, smiles at me, and pulls me through the back door, back to the people laughing and dancing inside. I feel shy as we walk through the crowd of happy people, and although nobody is really looking at us, I feel like everybody knows I was just drooling over touching Jase. My hands tingle, and the fingers on my free hand twitch with the memory of his warm skin.
Aiden and Jenna walk up to us smiling before Aiden sticks his hand out to Jase. He reaches for it with his free hand, and inside, Sanity is giving a little victory dance that he didn't let go of my hand.
“Thanks for inviting me. I had a good time,” Aiden says before shaking Jase’s hand and smiling at me.
“Me too,” Jenna says before giving Jase a one-armed hug. I don't know if that's because Jase is still holding my hand or because Aiden’s arm over her shoulder is keeping her back. We say our goodbyes and walk over to Mom and Alec. Both sets of eyes land on our entwined hands, but neither says anything. Mom tells me that Alec is giving her a ride home, but she doesn't ask if I want to come with. I wonder if she's feeling in the way. I assure her she's more than welcome to stay, but she just shakes her head and hugs me before leaving with Alec.
The rest of the night feels like a dream. I find out that Jase doesn't dance; well neither do I but I do it anyway. Lewis definitely does dance, and he rubs up against my back shamelessly. I laugh and push him away, but he just keeps coming back, so I decide to just ignore him since he doesn't listen anyway. While I'm shuffling from foot to foot with Lewis grinding against me, my eyes land on James and Jase sitting on a couch watching us. Jase is frowning and James is looking straight at me. I lift my shoulder in an I-don't-know gesture, and a smile lights his face before he nudges Jase with his shoulder and nods his head in my direction. Jase gives me a quizzical look before he strides towards us. He looks like a predator stalking his prey, but Lewis doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he seems to like the reaction Jase has.
“She isn’t a damn magic lamp. There isn’t a genie going to pop out the harder you rub,” Jase growls in his face.
Lewis chuckles and winks at me before walking over to join James on the couch. Jase hands me the beer he is holding, and I take a big gulp. The first sip out of a freshly-opened beer is always the best. I smile and hand the beer back to him.
“Smoke break?” I ask him, looking at the back door. Would I get to touch him again if he agrees?
“Sure, come on,” Jase says before leading me by the hand to the back door. The air outside is cool and refreshing compared to the stuffy inside of the parlor. It really isn't meant for so many people at once. Jase lights the smokes and gives me one. He sits down on the bench at the table, and I sit next to him, trying not to stare at his face, which is illuminated by the light streaming through the window. Sitting here in this light makes him look like an angel, a dangerous angel. A fallen angel? Something like that, my words don't make sense to me anymore. This guy messes with my equilibrium. Soon I’ll be spewing love poems and breaking into song. I'm sure he could bring any woman to her knees. I sigh loudly, thinking of how much competition I would have if I should ever get Jase.
“What's that for? Am I boring you?” Jase chuckles next to me.
“Uh, sorry, what?” My stupid response just makes him laugh louder. Only I will space out into fantasy when I have real life next to me. The curse of an overactive imagination.
“I'm sorry, I'm just tired,” I lie. It’s a stupid lie because now he will think I want to go home. I don't want to go home. I want to stay here with him. What will happen if I leave? Which one of these girls will grind up against him? Stop it, Mia. Jase doesn't belong to you. He can do what he wants. Dark is a bitch, I hate her.
“Do you want to go home?” he asks short and sharp. I look up, searching his face. He looks upset. Is he upset because he thinks I want to go home, or is he upset because he knows I lied? I can't just say, “Hey Jase, guess what. I've been daydreaming and thinking about you all day.” I blush and look up at him again. He shakes his head laughing. He taps a long finger against my forehead. “Would love to know what goes on in here. Come on, I'm pretty beat myself. I’ll take you home,” he says. Jase pulls me around to everybody, saying goodnight. When we get to Lewis, he pulls me tightly agai
nst him and grabs my ass in both hands. I shriek like a banshee and push him off me, but Lewis just laughs it off. Jase doesn't look happy, so I keep quiet, not wanting to make it any worse. Maybe Lewis is drunk? I hug James, Alec, and Livvy without Jase saying a word. We silently walk to the same rinky-dink truck they drive to school in. He opens the door and helps me in without a word. The entire drive to my house, Jase looks straight ahead. What the fuck? When we pull up to my driveway I've had enough.
“What is your damn problem? Why am I getting the silent treatment?” I demand.
He looks at me and I flinch. I actually flinch just from a stare. I straighten my back and stare right back at him.
“Do you like Lewis touching you? I won't share,” he says.
I open my mouth, my brain isn't working. Is Jase such an idiot?
“You’re an idiot,” I spit out. Shit, that's not what I wanted to say.
“Better an idiot than a whore,” he spits back at me.
His words sting like a bitch. The same words I hear every day at school. Before I can think, I slap him. I slap him as hard as I can, but he just sits there and then he smiles.
“Get out,” he says still smirking at me. I swear this man is evil. Even his voice spreads tingles down my back. Either that or he practices evil faces and sounds in front of the mirror. I sit there dumbfounded before remembering he kicked me out. Fine, screw him. I open the door and slam it behind me. He doesn't matter. But then why does it hurt so much? Why is my damn face covered in slobbery wet tears?
I unlock the front door. The kitchen light is still on. Life is messed up. When you have a shitty day, there’s always someone willing to make it shittier. He is sitting at the kitchen table. A bottle of brandy stands in front of him. No glass. He’s drinking it straight from the bottle. Mom is sitting across from him. Still wearing her clothes from the party. She doesn’t look up at me. She knows better than that. I know better than that. You don’t grow up in a house with the bogeyman and not learn a few tricks. He walks over to me. His eyes are bloodshot.
“I’m not good enough for your party?” he asks with malice in his voice. The alcohol on his breath stings my nose. I don’t answer and keep my eyes on the floor.
“I asked you a fucking question. Am I not good enough for your party?” he yells.
He grabs my face, and I feel his nails tearing into my skin. I focus my eyes on his cheek. Angry at myself that tears fill my eyes. I am afraid of him. For ten years this man has terrorized my mom, but he has never touched me. He hit Kyle once. There’s only so much a thirteen-year-old boy can do. As Kyle got older and stronger, he tried again, but Kyle at sixteen wasn’t Kyle at thirteen. The beatings stopped; he still yelled and swore at her though. Mom smiled more, but now Kyle is gone. Money is tight and he is angry. I breathe hard through my nose. I can’t help it. Fear squeezes my chest like a giant snake threatening to strangle me to death. THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, my heart beats wildly. I lift my eyes to his. He slaps me hard across the face. My teeth tear into my bottom lip. I don’t wipe the blood off. I let it run down my chin. But in my mind, I’m spitting it in his face. Mom starts crying at the table. I wish I could tell her stop. She will only make him angrier. As if he can read my mind, he walks over to her and grabs her by the hair.
“Do you see what you bitches do to me? You make me crazy. Bunch of whores,” he yells. He pushes Mom to stand next to me. I feel like we are in a line up, and I wonder if tonight is the night he finally kills us.
“Please, stop this, please?” Mom pleads with him. He slaps her and she cowers to the floor.
“Stop it, stop it, stop it!” I scream until my voice breaks. Maybe I’ve finally gone insane. I don’t know, but I charge him just as Jase bursts into the kitchen like a friggin’ knight in shining armor.
Jase and he are a tangled mess of limbs and blood. Jase keeps pulling his arm back and lands punch after punch. They roll around on the floor like men possessed, each fighting for the upper hand. I don’t know who called the cops, but I’m sure if they hadn’t shown up, the coroner would’ve removed my stepdad in a body bag.
I grab a throw off the couch and drape it over Mom’s shoulders, the coffee I made her long cold in her shivering hands. The cops took our statement and took him away in cuffs. Tomorrow Mom is getting a restraining order, and this time he isn’t coming back. She will find a way to look after us. Jase sits on the couch, not saying a word. I don’t know why he didn’t leave with the cops. I don’t know why he showed up when he did. But I want to thank him. He looks scary and dangerous and sexy as sin with his shirt torn and his abs exposed. He catches me looking and nods his head to the door.
“Goodnight, Mrs. Andrews,” he says, but Mom doesn’t respond.
I follow Jase to our front door. Instead of leaving, he sits down on the stairs and pats the spot next to him. I sit down and wait.
“My mom was sixteen when she got knocked up. My dad was a punk teenager just looking for a good time. Needless to say, my mom didn’t love me very much for ruining her life by showing up ten years ahead of her schedule. She dropped out of school and followed my dad to fuck knows where. She just packed her bags and left the house. She was staying with her parents at the time. Grams was happy to take me.”
“Three years later, they show up. They’d cleaned their act up and got an apartment not too far from where my grandparents were staying. First Gramps didn’t want to let me go, and my parents got to see me on the weekends. It was good for a while. I was so fucking happy that my parents wanted me again. But they got restless. They wanted to play house. Be a real family. So they got into a fight with my grandparents, and my mom just takes all my stuff and loads it into the car. I didn’t see my grandparents for a long time.”
“Everytime I asked if I could see them, they would say, ‘next weekend.’ It was always next week. Okay, long story short, so time goes by and my dad starts acting weird. I think he was doing drugs. My mom, young and stupid as she was, joined in the fun, and soon I was back to being shipped off to my grandparents on weekends. Sometimes weeks would go by without them fetching me. The year after I started school, the beatings started. He would beat my mom for everything that went wrong. The car had a flat—it was her fault. The milk was sour—it was her fault. There’s no money—it was her fault. You get the picture.”
“I was so angry at him for hurting her. I was too young to do anything, so I would fight and get into trouble at school. The principal always phoned my grandpa when I had a fight. But one day they phoned my dad. I saw a boy teasing a girl on the playground. He was pulling her hair. She was crying, begging him to give back her hair clips. He just kept waving it in front of her face and yanking it out of reach before she could grab it. I tackled him from behind and knocked his front tooth out in the process. So the principal’s assistant phones my dad at work and tells him I got into a fight and the parents of the kid wants us to pay for the dental bill.”
“He picked me up from school and didn’t say a word to me. When we walked through the door of the house, he started taking off his belt. I can still remember the snap of the leather as it pulled free from the loops. Mom came into the lounge and asked him what he was doing. He started yelling about how we cost him money and how I'm no good. He told me to bend over the couch and I did. When the first hit fell, I swore I wouldn’t cry. By the third hit, my skin was on fire. Mom started yelling at him and pulled him away from me. He turned on her and punched her until she stopped breathing.”
“He killed my mom, Mia. Because I was a snotty kid with a temper. He beat her until there was no more fight left inside of her. I'm telling you this because that could be your mom. You need to make sure she stays away from him. I’m telling you this, so you can stay away from me. I’m no good, Mia. I’m a messed up guy with a bad temper, and the road you’ve walked doesn’t need assholes like me paving the way.”
I wipe the tears from my eyes and stare at Jase. I understand his story. I killed my brother, didn’t I? Jase doesn’t know ho
w messed up inside I am. He doesn’t know that I have nightmares about how Kyle died. Of how I wish I told my twin not to jump! Jase doesn’t know that I hurt myself because the physical pain is easier to handle than the emotional scars covering my heart. I’m plagued by death and destruction. My therapist said I look at life through the eyes of death. I call bullshit. I look at life through the eyes of life. Because life is much harder than death. In life I wish I die every day.
DAY SIX
WALK AWAY
Maybe I’m here, maybe I’m not.
Suppose I’ll make it, suppose I’ll let it rot.
I turn my back, I’m standing proud.
Even when I’m alone, you are always around.
Open your eyes, take a glimpse at my soul.
There’s a piece of your shadow making me whole.
In my darkness you shine on bright.
My beacon, my haven, my guiding light.
Until the time you turned it around.
You were gone, nowhere to be found.
I’m left screaming but you don’t hear
This hole of sadness filled with another tear.
I don't know what his problem is, but Jase hasn't spoken to me since my birthday. That was two days ago. Lewis and James seem to be okay with me, more than okay actually. Lewis is still flirting like crazy, and I'm not sure if it’s because he likes me or if he just likes pissing his cousin off. I don't care because obviously Jase is ignoring me, and if that's how he wants to be, then fine. I'm not losing two new friends because of him. At the parlor, it’s even worse. He’s done five tattoos since he started, and tonight is his sixth. A blue-haired pixie is bouncing up and down on his table, telling him about the flower design she wants done down low on her belly. He has that wicked grin on his face like he knows I'm watching them or something.