Work of Art

by Maysonet, Melody;

  I stood near the door, trying to decide where to go, what to do. Sadie was supposed to be here, but she probably had a bunch of people to talk to.

  “Hey!” Joey’s uncle threw a cigarette at me. “I don’t know you.”

  “Oh.” I pointed outside. “I’m with Joey. I met you the other night.”

  He squinted at me.

  “At your bar. I’m Tera.”

  He smiled as recognition dawned. “Pink.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Your wine. I always remember people by their drink.”

  “Oh.” A miniature tornado whirled in my gut. But it wasn’t nerves. This tornado felt good.

  “There’s drinks in the fridge. Help yourself.” He winked and sipped from his water bottle.

  “Thanks.”

  I wandered into the kitchen. There were a half-dozen people leaning against the counters, smoking but not talking. Some of them had their eyes closed, their heads bobbing to the music. I glanced around, searching for Sadie, but these people were all older, more like Joey’s uncle’s age than high-school kids.

  “You looking for something?” A man peeled himself from the counter. He was a big guy, broad shoulders and heavy around the middle, like an overweight football player. He had a shaved head, just like Joey’s uncle. His grin managed to look silly and lustful at the same time.

  I needed to relax. I tried reaching for the buzzy tornado feeling in my stomach, but it wasn’t there anymore. Maybe I should take the other half. “I just came to get a drink,” I said.

  He slumped against the counter. “Well, you don’t have to look so scared about it. Liquor’s on the counter. Other stuff’s in the fridge.”

  “Thanks.” I opened the refrigerator. A box of pink wine sat on the shelf. It had a spigot. I found a plastic cup on the counter and filled it half full.

  The man watched me. “So how do you know Johnny?”

  Johnny. Joey’s uncle. “I’m his nephew’s girlfriend,” I said. That sounded funny, so I laughed. “I’m Tera.”

  “Joey’s girlfriend?”

  Was it so surprising? I laughed again. The tornado in my stomach was back, only now it was moving up toward my throat. I wanted to lean my head back and stretch, but I knew how weird that would look. I needed to concentrate on what I was doing. “We just started dating,” I said.

  “That explains it. So how do you know Joey?”

  “We work together.” It was getting harder to concentrate. “At Papa Geppetto’s.” The name sounded funny, but I kept myself from giggling.

  “Ah.” He sipped from his water bottle and looked around.

  “Do you know a girl named Sadie?” I asked. “I can’t find her.”

  “Don’t know her,” he said. And then he closed his eyes, so I figured he was done talking.

  I made my way back to the living room. Was it my imagination, or did my body feel lighter? Almost like my veins were filled with helium. Sadie wasn’t there, but Joey crouched beside the couch next to his uncle. I gave him a little wave. He held up a finger. Wait.

  I sipped my drink. Joey kept massaging his own neck, like he had a crick in it, and his uncle kept smiling. The guy with spiky white hair asked me if I had a cigarette. I told him I didn’t smoke. He moved on.

  Joey kept talking to his uncle, but I didn’t mind. I was having fun just watching everyone. Never in my life had I felt so relaxed, so at ease in my body. I looked around for a wall to lean against. I wanted to stretch like a cat. I wanted to lean my head back and just feel.

  Joey appeared at my side. He had a huge smile. “Sorry about that. Are you feeling it yet?” He stared at my face. “You are, aren’t you?”

  I grinned. “I feel amazing.”

  “You want to take the other half?”

  I did, but I was scared, too. What I was feeling felt really good, and I didn’t want to ruin it by taking too much.

  Someone turned off the lights and cranked up the music. Thumping bass rattled the wall. The room erupted in cheers. A scattering of glow sticks jerked around in dizzying patterns, cutting the dark with their neon trails of light.

  I had to yell to be heard over the music. It was hard to take my eyes off the twirling glow sticks. “Maybe later,” I said.

  One of the dancers in the middle of the room bumped into me. Two people huddled under a blanket on the recliner. I couldn’t see their faces, but they were obviously making out. The woman with the talon fingernails sat on the floor by the coffee table, rolling a joint. I had a sudden flash of what this scene must look like to someone from the outside. Someone like my mom. A total den of iniquity. So what? I was having fun.

  Joey took my hand and led me to the couch. His uncle Johnny moved over to make room for us. I flopped down between them, leaned my head back, and smiled.

  “Someone’s feeling good,” Johnny said.

  Why hadn’t I done this before? “It’s my first time,” I announced.

  Johnny laughed. I saw the look he exchanged with Joey, but I wasn’t sure what it meant, and I didn’t care.

  I rubbed Joey’s leg. “You said I’d like it, and I do!”

  “I’m glad,” he said.

  “You said it’d make me forget about my dad, and I’m forgetting! I don’t think I’ve stopped thinking about him since he got arrested. Only now I’m still thinking of him because I’m talking about him. But I don’t mind talking about him.” I turned to Johnny. “My dad’s in jail,” I explained. “He got arrested for child pornography. I don’t think he did it, though. He’s an artist, and sometimes he gets edgy with his art and doesn’t realize things can be looked at the wrong way.”

  Johnny nodded. “You talk a lot.”

  “Do I?”

  “Yeah, but that’s okay. I like looking at you.” He let his hand rest on my thigh.

  I stared at the hand, trying to figure out what it was doing there. And then he took it away.

  “How much did she take?” Johnny asked.

  “A half. I’m giving her the other half right now.”

  Johnny pushed himself off the couch. “I’m going to see what’s happening in the kitchen.”

  I lifted my chin and pouted. “Don’t leave!”

  He patted the top of my head. “I’ll be back, sweetheart.”

  I giggled. The way he had patted me, like I was a dog. And then I thought of Po’Boy running around in the yard. That made me happy, and I smiled some more.

  “Hey,” Joey said. He grabbed my hand and put something in it. Another ecstasy pill. “I think you’re ready.”

  Was I? I wanted to pop the pill in my mouth—anything to keep this feeling going strong—but a tiny, still-functioning part of my brain told me to hold off. “I have to go to the bathroom,” I said. Which was true. But I also wanted to think.

  He closed my fingers over the pill. “Take it in the bathroom,” he said. “Don’t tell anyone you have it. I already told them I didn’t have any more.”

  People looked at me with knowing smiles as I stumbled toward the hallway. One guy lifted his water bottle like he was toasting me.

  I got to the bathroom and closed the door. My reflection in the mirror gazed at me with hooded eyelids. My whole face sagged. My jaw ached, and I realized I’d been clenching my teeth. I looked like crap, but I felt so amazingly good. As much as I wanted to keep feeling this way, I knew I shouldn’t take any more. I had to see Dad tomorrow, and my washed-up reflection told me I’d had enough.

  I flushed the pill down the toilet.

  When I came back to the living room, another guy was sitting on the couch with Joey. They moved apart, and I sank between them. Joey rubbed my thigh. “This is Tera,” he said. “Tera, this is Mac.”

  “We met in the kitchen,” Mac said, and only then did I recognize him. Sweat beaded on his shaved head.

  I giggled. “Is that your real name?’

  “Does it matter?” And then he leaned over and kissed me.

  I wasn’t sure what was happening at first. But then J
oey’s arm curled around my waist and slid up to fondle my breast. Joey kissed the back of my neck, and somehow I opened my mouth to Mac’s kiss. Joey groaned behind me, his body pressing closer. Mac’s fingers—I think they were Mac’s fingers—massaged between my legs. I don’t care. It feels too good. I moved closer to Mac. Joey moved closer to me. Was this happening? Should I stop it? It felt so good, I never wanted to stop.

  I was vaguely aware of the pumping music, of people in the room, but I didn’t care if they saw us. I didn’t care about anything except how good it felt—and not because I was making out with two guys. Two guys! A part of my brain was in awe of myself. Where had this girl been hiding? But mostly I marveled at how my entire body radiated with pleasure—and not necessarily sexual pleasure, though that was part of it. More like the shuddering of an electric pulse vibrating my skin.

  And then Mac pulled away. “This is getting too intense,” he said. “I gotta do something.”

  “You want to fuck?” Joey said in my ear. I smiled and nodded. I did.

  He took my hand, pulled me up from the couch. We walked down the hallway to the bedroom. Was that Mac following us? It was. He closed the door behind us. Joey took off his shirt. So did Mac.

  “Wait,” I said. “I didn’t mean him, too.”

  “You serious?” Mac said.

  “You heard her,” Joey said. “Get out.”

  Mac put on his shirt and left. Before I could think more about it, Joey pulled me down on the bed. I ripped off my sweater and threw it in the corner. My bra was next. Joey unbuttoned his jeans.

  And then I heard the door open. “Hey,” a voice said. I looked over. Johnny was standing by the bed, staring down at me. “Can anybody join this party?”

  “Um . . .” I looked to Joey. Joey would tell him to get out. But Joey was smiling at me. Did he not realize his uncle was standing there? I sat up on the bed and crossed my arms over my chest.

  Johnny sat beside me. He tried to move my arms away, but I held them stiff. “Hey, now,” he said. “Don’t be like that.”

  Panic welled up in me. “I don’t want to do this.” I sounded like a little kid.

  “It’s okay,” Joey said from my other side. “We can get under the blanket.”

  “You sure this is okay?” Johnny asked.

  “Tera, come on.” Joey touched my shoulder. “It’s not a big deal. You were making out with that other guy.”

  I wanted to explain how making out with two guys was a long way from having sex with my boyfriend and his much older uncle, but I couldn’t think clearly enough to form the words.

  Joey leaned closer, like he was going to kiss me, but I shoved myself off the bed and darted to the corner where I’d thrown my bra and sweater. “Just leave me alone, okay? I want to get dressed.”

  Johnny sounded amused. “She wants us to leave her alone.”

  “No, she doesn’t.” Joey made a shooing motion with his hand. “Give us a minute.”

  Johnny left the room.

  When we were alone, Joey came to the corner where I was sliding my arms through my bra straps. “Listen, Tera.” He picked up my sweater before I could grab it. “We’re just having fun.”

  And that’s when I realized Joey must have planned this whole thing. That’s why he left me alone earlier. So he could talk to his uncle and lay out how it would go.

  I snatched my sweater. “It’s not fun for me.”

  “It was fun ten minutes ago. Why not now?”

  “Because.” I could feel the drug wearing off, and I was starting to feel seriously disgusted with myself. I pulled my sweater over my head and made a beeline for the door. “I just don’t want to, okay?”

  Joey followed me to the living room. Heavy bass vibrated the floor, and a black light gave everything a ghostly glow.

  I stood there and didn’t know what to do. How was I going to get home? Mom would kill me if she had to come pick me up.

  Joey backed me against the wall, his teeth glowing neon-white under the black light. “Stop running,” he said. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

  I tried to move away. “I’m not running. I just want to go home.”

  He squeezed my breast. Not a caress. More like a honk. One hand tangled itself in my hair. The other snaked around my waist. His mouth felt wet on my ear. “I’m not taking you home yet. First I want to fuck. Just you and me.”

  “Stop it.” I tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let go. No one seemed to notice. The woman with the talon fingernails leaned against the opposite wall, mesmerized by the lights on the stereo. The two people going at it on the recliner still had their heads under the blanket.

  “Stop what? You don’t like this?” His arms felt like tentacles wrapped around my waist. “I brought you here to fuck,” he said. “So let’s go fuck.”

  “Leave her alone, Joey.”

  Joey froze and eased his weight off me. We both looked toward the voice.

  Sadie was sitting up on the recliner, glaring at him, her hair a tangled mess. Whoever she was making out with struggled to sit up, too. I recognized Sadie’s friend, the one who’d picked her up from work the other night.

  Joey’s eyes wandered over each of us. Me, Sadie, Sadie’s girlfriend. Then they fell on me again. He shook his head and stalked off toward the kitchen. “Fucking tease!” he announced to the ceiling. “A complete fucking bore!”

  My cheeks flushed with humiliation. Tears stung my eyes. I blinked them dry before they could fall.

  “Hey.” Sadie got up from the recliner and put her hand on my arm. “You okay?”

  I nodded, afraid of what would happen if I tried to talk.

  “He’s a prick. Ignore him.”

  I studied her face in the black light. Was she high, too? She didn’t look it. A little drunk maybe.

  “I know he likes you,” she said.

  I almost laughed, but instead my face crumpled and I had to cover it with my hands. A fucking tease. A complete fucking bore. Was he right? I felt like he might be right.

  “You want to go somewhere and talk? Come on.” She pulled me toward the screen door. I followed her like a lost sheep.

  She guided me to the porch steps and pulled me down beside her. Her hand felt warm compared to the cold air.

  “You can’t just leave your girlfriend,” I said.

  “She’s all right. She gets it.”

  We both sat looking out at the dark yard. Everyone else had gone inside. I pulled my knees in tight. My breath fogged in front of me.

  “He’s a complete dick,” she said.

  “That’s not what you said before,” I mumbled. “You said he was harmless.”

  “Did I?”

  I nodded. I sounded bitchy and ungrateful. I knew I did.

  “Sorry. I thought he was harmless.” She shook her head. “He was with me, anyway.”

  “You dated him?” The thought didn’t hurt, but it did surprise me.

  “I wouldn’t call it dating. We had sex.”

  “Oh.” I waited for the flash of jealousy. It didn’t come.

  “He’s not all that,” she said. “He’s not even that good.”

  “You don’t think so?” And here I’d thought it was just me. My inexperience.

  “And he’s been lying to you about how old he is.”

  “What?” I whirled to face her. “How old is he?”

  “I think he’s twenty-two. Maybe twenty-three.”

  So much for his fake ID. Now I felt betrayed on top of everything else. “What an asshole!”

  “Uh-huh.”

  I stared out at the yard, remembering what I’d let him do to me—not just Joey, but Mac and Johnny, too. And Joey had wanted it to happen.

  Was he so starved for sex that he had to lie about his age to get me to sleep with him? He had probably lied about saving money for an apartment, too. And then he pretty much drugged me to get me to have a threesome . . . with his uncle. Maybe his mom wasn’t even in prison. I could see him making up the whole prison
story just to give himself a bad-boy image.

  So he’s some kind of bad boy? That’s what Mr. Stewart had said when I showed him my Joey sketches. I’d gotten mad because it made me feel stupid. But he was right.

  Shit. My Girl on a Bus painting. It probably sucked, too. I knew it did. I’d known it all along.

  “You okay?” Sadie asked.

  I closed my eyes. “Just pissed.” It felt good to be pissed.

  “Pissed at me?”

  “Not at you.”

  “Do you need anything?”

  No, I started to say. But then I thought of something she could do, something a friend would do for a friend.

  “Do you think you could give me a ride home?”

  CHAPTER 25

  The county jail website made a big deal about what not to wear to a jail visit. No shorts or miniskirts. No tank tops. No hats. I put on an old sweatshirt and my loosest pair of jeans, told my mom I was going to work, and caught the bus downtown.

  Fear sat in my gut like an ice block. I hadn’t talked to my dad for more than two weeks, and I had no idea what he’d be like, how he’d act. I wanted him to know I was doing everything I could to help him. I wanted him to appreciate what I’d already given up.

  And most of all, I wanted to hear what he had to say about the photos on his computer. I needed him to tell me they’d gotten there by accident.

  The bus dropped me off right in front of the jailhouse. A woman and her little boy got off with me. All of us trudged up the short flight of steps. I opened the door for them, but the boy plunked himself down in front of the building’s sand-filled ashtray. His mom pleaded with him to get up, but he kept wailing about how he didn’t want to go in, how he didn’t want to see his daddy. I almost knew how he felt. If I’d thought Dad was guilty, I’d have wanted to do the same thing.

  I could still hear the kid crying as I walked to the front desk. A gray-haired woman checked my license against the approved visitors’ list.

  “I’ve never been here before,” I said. “I’m not sure how this works.”

  “You’ll get the hang of it.”

  I didn’t want to get the hang of it. I wanted Dad out of here. I wanted to know he was innocent.