by Smith, Yessi
I bit my bottom lip trying to keep the smile off my face. “I may have,” I said slowly.
“Damnit, Erin,” he said quietly and walked away from me.
“No wait, Trent,” I stuttered out. “It wasn’t bad. It was just a girl thing,” I tried to explain as I felt Trent’s warmth seep out of my body to be replaced by a coldness that hit me at my core. “We were talking and it just kind of came out. But it was more like, ‘look how cute my boyfriend is.’”
“You told your girlfriend that I sound like Chewbacca when we have sex,” he said incredulously.
“Yeah, but I think it’s cute,” I tried to keep my voice from shaking, hoping he’d believe the truth in my words.
“And Cam, what’d she say?”
“She thinks we should dress up like Chewbacca and Princess Leia for Halloween,” I told him and he laughed. Crisis averted, I sighed, grateful.
Feeling comfortable again, I reached for him and hugged him tightly. “It was only Camilla, I swear. I wouldn’t tell anyone else. It’s just that Cam is Cam, you know?” I looked up at him, needing reassurance that he wasn’t upset still.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, smoothing down my hair. “She’s gonna call me Chewey for the rest of my life, isn’t she?”
For the rest of his life. If she called him Chewey for the rest of his life, then that would mean he would be a part of my life forever. Did that mean he wanted to be a part of my life for the rest of his?
“Probably,” I agreed.
I hopped into the shower while Trent finished preparing the food. As I was finishing, Trent walked into the bathroom and handed me a glass of wine. “What’s this?” I asked, because I knew for a fact I didn’t own either wine glasses or any wine bottles.
“Your present,” he replied, eyes averted with a slight tilt to his head. “You keep saying you’re an adult now, but according to my mom you’re not an adult until you own a set of wine glasses.” He spoke softly to me and twirled the glass in his hand, only pausing to examine the liquid sloshing in the inside of the glass. Without another word, he watched me, waiting for a reaction, but all I heard was the thump-thump-thump of my heart in his hands.
“You bought me wine glasses?” I asked, touched to the point of tears. You know, if I was normal and produced tears at appropriate intimate moments.
“And wine. Try it. My mom swears you’ll like it.”
“Oh, Trent.” I stepped out of the shower and hugged him, naked and happy to be in his arms.
Kissing me, Trent put the wine aside. “The wine can wait,” he said, and quickly, fairly un-romantically, took off his clothes and stepped into the shower, taking me with him. I thought about protesting, reminding him that I had already bathed, but how could I ever resist Trent? This man who was slowly, oh so quietly opening my heart and gaining my trust.
He handed me the bar of soap, which I obligingly took and started scrubbing his back. I hadn’t accomplished much when he turned around and put his face into the crevice of my neck, another top five of my favorite places to be kissed. I circled my arms around his neck and breathed him in. Just breathed him in, knowing how fortunate I was to have him in my life. Holding onto him, we began our fast paced race to euphoria. With the water beating at my back, my legs wrapped around his waist, his hands supporting me, driving me up and down, and my nails tearing up his upper body, I let out a scream of pure ecstasy.
I melted onto the floor of the shower once his arms were no longer supporting me. “Wild Chewbacca sex, my favorite,” I told him.
From the shower floor, I watched him finish bathing and only moved so Trent could dry me up and carry me to the bed. While being pampered was something new to me, it was also something I very much enjoyed and subtly requested often.
“Hmmm,” I whispered when he lay down next to me in bed.
“Hmmm,” he responded.
“I think we need to take it a little slower this time,” I teased him, massaging his inner thigh. “You know, to help us unwind a bit.”
Trent eagerly got on top of me, barely touching his lips to my skin, knowing how crazy it made me. I shivered as he made his way past my collarbone and pressed a more aggressive kiss on my breast. His onslaught of gentle caresses mixed with more demanding kisses continued, and I leaned my pelvis skyward, anticipating his lips.
“Trent,” I whispered when he teased me, only stroking my inner thigh, hardly lingering there at all. He grinned at me, a devilish grin, enjoying the torture he was putting me through, and continued his way down till he had kissed each toe. I was too strung out to see the romance of it all or to fully appreciate his tenderness. Instead, I grabbed him and thrust his body on top of mine, forcing him to stop and react.
Without a second thought, we joined hips and created our own inherent rhythm. “Trent!” I screamed loudly, impatiently, both wanting and not wanting the end. Not able to restrain myself, I bit his shoulder and drove my nails into his back. He continued, we continued. And when our tempo met its peak, we shuddered and Trent unceremoniously fell on top of me. But I didn’t mind. No, I liked the feel of him on top of me, trusting and unapologetic.
After a short nap, I peeled myself off the bed and got dressed. I went back to the bathroom to retrieve the ignored glass of wine and took a sip. Not bad, I thought as I took another sip. Once I stepped out of the bedroom, I could smell the roast and it smelled amazing. I crossed my fingers, hoping I wouldn’t poison anyone, and sat with Trent, drinking my wine and waiting for our friends to arrive.
Camilla, of course, could not wait to try the wine. She insisted we clink our glasses together.
Self-consciously, I agreed and raised my glass to meet hers and Trent’s. “Wait, wait, wait,” she interrupted. “What are we cheering to?”
“Cheering to?” I asked.
“Yeah, you know. You say cheers to good friends or your graduation and then we clink our glasses and chug that shit down.”
“Okay, then to both,” I replied and quickly met their glasses with mine.
She took her first sip and said, “You’re so romantic, Erin. You know that?” I nodded my head. “This is good, Trent, good job.”
“Well, then we should have cheered to a top notch boyfriend too,” he replied, and I immediately felt my stomach tense. Yeah, we should have. After all, he was the one who bought the wine and the glasses and he was top notch. “I was joking,” Trent said sensing my mood change and kissed my forehead.
“You are top notch,” I said, leaning into him.
“Get a room.” Camilla shook her head at us.
In response, Trent threw his head back and let out his best Chewbacca roar that sent us to the floor in a fit of laughter.
“Top notch boyfriend,” Camilla agreed. “I’m almost jealous. Except I’m about to be your favorite person in this room.”
She reached into her purse and handed me a couple pieces of paper which I willingly took. It seemed today was a day of presents for me. I stared at the six tickets to the Imagine Dragons concert and shouted excitedly.
“It’s next month,” she told us. “Chewey, you’re coming with us.”
“Whatever makes Erin happy,” he told Camilla, squeezing me to his side. And once again I was struck by just how lucky I was to have him in my life. He always thought of me, I thought, as he walked to my door to let the rest of our friends who were knocking, in. He was patient and kind, and never pushed me to talk about anything I didn’t want to. He was funny, comfortable in his own skin, thus making me comfortable whenever I was around him.
The night was perfect with what seemed like an endless supply of wine and an even greater desire for laughter insatiable. Camilla’s and my roast was more than just pretty damn amazing. Not to toot my own horn too loudly, but the aroma the roast exuded was nothing compared to the taste. It was full of flavor and tender to the point that it would melt in your mouth; overall, it was something to be proud of.
I went to bed that night in Trent’s arms happier than I’d ever felt.
I was a full-fledged adult and was surrounded by people I cared about, who surprisingly also cared about me. I’d made it.
Maybe it was the alcohol, but more than anything I wanted to give Trent a piece of me, a piece of who I was. “I don’t have the words for it,” I explained to him, “so just listen.” I searched through my phone for one of the few songs that had made me cry. At ease, I played Fuckin’ Perfect for Trent and listened to Pink explain how I once felt every day of my life. Trent, the man I was falling in love with, held me in silence, knowing I wouldn’t want to talk about it. But his gentle strokes told me that if I ever did want to talk about it, I could.
Chapter 10
Shayna
It was dark, too dark. With tears spilling out of her eyes and her heart racing, she hid under her sheets and bit her pillow, hoping she hadn’t woken up Momma when she screamed. She heard the door open so she drew her knees closer to her chest, making herself so small she hoped Momma wouldn’t see her.
But Momma wasn’t there, she remembered, when the nice lady who was taking care of her came in. She couldn’t remember the lady’s name, only that she was nice. She had a nice voice and was gentle when she touched her. She liked her, especially when she held her, like she did now as she curled up in her lap.
She was safe. The lady would take away her bad dreams and make the dark safe again.
Chapter 11
Erin
The nightlife, with all its boisterous and mysterious ways, was meant specifically for the young. The best way to get to know your city, to feel her rhythms and hear her secrets, was when the professional world rested on their couches while the youth made their way to conquer the night. And it felt good to be a part of that cult, I thought as I got dressed with Camilla’s watchful eyes on me.
It took Camilla a while to convince me to take money out of my sacred savings account to buy a new dress, but Camilla had pointed out how poorly stocked my closet was with only jeans and a handful of beach dresses, and the occasion called for something a bit more elegant. It took even longer to convince Camilla that I wanted a simple dress with very little frills. After several discussions and compromises, I wound up buying the black dress I now wore. She had wanted ruffles, lace, a tiered skirt, anything but simple. But even she couldn’t turn down the dress I wore. It was black, simple, short and with an open back that revealed the small of my back. If I had a tramp stamp, I’d proudly put it on display with my new dress.
I put on a bit more makeup than I normally would and chewed my lower lip subconsciously. Well past the point of normal nerves, I wanted to vomit. And pee. I’d love to know what it was about anxiety that made me pee so frequently. But more, I’d love to know what possessed me to agree to go to a charity event with Trent where I would not only meet his colleagues, but his parents too. And I was dressed like a slut, which would then infer that I was a slut. Why had I bought this dress? I should have opted for a Little Bo Peep type dress.
And the makeup. I had to wash my face. While my dress screamed white trash, my face proved it. I grabbed my wash rag, drenching it in water and was about to start scrubbing my face when Camilla let out a God-awful banshee scream. Startled, I looked at her with my mouth open.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, taking my wash rag away from me.
Avoiding eye contact, I tried to take my wash rag back, but Camilla refused to loosen her grip.
“I’m wearing way too much makeup, Cam. And this dress,” I said in disgust, trying to pull it down, but it wouldn’t budge. It had taken the form of my body and rested there like it belonged, like a second layer of skin.
“Stop, okay?” she told me, her eyes wider than usual, her pupils threatening to dilate in frustration. “Stop thinking for one minute, Erin, and look at yourself.” She guided me to my full length mirror and forced me to stare at my reflection. “You look amazing.”
I sighed, reluctant to respond. I did look pretty great, I thought. But not the kind of great I wanted to look when I met Trent’s parents for the first time. I should have gotten something with ruffles that would have hidden my nonexistent boobs better. Too little too late, I thought, and resolved myself to look like a southern tramp, fresh out of the trailer park.
“You’re such a shit ass,” Camilla advised me, shaking her head dubiously at me. “A world class moron.”
“What a great friend you are,” I told her dryly, barely able to contain my amusement.
“If it weren’t for me you’d have changed into a muumuu.”
“Do you have one?” I asked with hope in my eyes and laughter in my heart.
“I can’t stand you,” Camilla declared and sauntered away, obviously done with me.
As much as I wanted to remove my makeup, I was more afraid that I’d mess up what was already there. Yeah, it was too much, but at least it was meticulously and perfectly done. I couldn’t be sure I’d have the same results if I tried again so it was probably better if I just left it alone.
The event was being held at Jungle Island, which I’d never been to and was eager to see. According to Camilla, it was a fun place to visit during the day with all sorts of animals and shows, and I was hoping to see a couple of the animals at night. My hopes fell with disappointment when I saw the event was being held just outside the actual entrance. Bastards.
While waiting for Trent, I went to the bar and ordered a White Russian.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the man behind the bar told me. “We’re not serving alcohol tonight.”
I felt my heart beat at the base of my neck and simply replied, “Oh?” hoping I could suppress the laughter building inside of me. My nervous tendencies flared at the most inopportune times and, to be perfectly honest, sucked huge donkey balls.
The man continued to look at me solemnly as he replied, “This is a charitable event for alcoholism and addiction.”
“Right,” I felt myself flush and hoped the sweat dripping down my forehead would have the decency to stay on my face rather than make its way to my chin and drop onto my chest. “Water then,” I managed to stammer out.
I drank my bottled water quietly at the table assigned to us and tried to avoid making eye contact with anyone. God forbid I incited a conversation with someone I didn’t know. I jumped up and practically tackled Trent to the ground when I saw him.
“Happy to see me?” he asked, smiling slowly at me.
“They don’t serve alcohol here,” I whispered to him, demanding a response.
“Do you know what charity we’re sponsoring tonight?” he asked with his eyebrows arched too high, making me giggle and feel more at ease.
“Well, yeah,” I responded. “But still, no alcohol?”
Trent kissed me on my forehead before introducing me to his parents. Great, I was now the white trash raging alcoholic girlfriend. I forced what I hoped was an amicable smile before shaking their hands and practically wrapped my arms around Dave when he demanded where the alcohol was. Kindred spirits, that’s what Dave and I were. Apparently I was falling for the wrong brother.
As we made our way to our table, Trent leaned towards me and sent a shiver down my spine all the way to my toes, making them go numb, when he whispered, “You look edible, Erin.”
“Are you coming home with me then?” I asked, looking up at his face and winked. I actually winked. I’d never winked before. How lame.
“Oh yeah,” he agreed, his lips slightly parted and his eyes burning a hole through my retinas. Yeah, this is exactly the response I wanted when I bought my dress. Screw what his parents thought, I told myself. Not that I actually felt that way, I reminded myself as I glanced towards his parents, automatically feeling guilty.
I sat down with Trent on my right and his mom on my left side and waited for the inquisition to start. I forced my fingers to lie complacently on my lap, without fiddling while I gave her a quick smile.
“I’m so glad to finally meet you, Erin,” she told me.
“Me too,” I responded. “But I don’t know
what to call you. When I asked Trent what you and your husband’s names were he said he just called you mom and dad,” I told her, sending Trent a quick angry glare as she laughed.
“That’s my son. A bit of a pain in the ass.” She smiled at Trent, and the affection I felt spread from one to the other was unmistakable. Sitting between them and seeing the depth of their relationship made me nervous. This was a man that could love, and felt my stomach clench at the thought. “You can call me Leah. The handsome old man sitting next to me,” she said gesturing towards her husband, “is Anthony.”
This was a family. Different in their own ways, I observed as Leah smiled as openly at her husband as Trent smiled at me. And while Anthony was more reserved than his wife and sons, he had an energetic undercurrent similar to that of his family that you could not ignore. Again, I forced my hands to sit still so I wouldn’t add twitchy basket case to Leah’s overall analysis of me.
I laughed easily throughout the night as I heard stories of Trent and Dave. I wasn’t surprised to hear that Dave was the trouble maker, but was genuinely taken aback to learn that Trent not only helped Dave clean up his mess, but had also taken the blame for things he hadn’t done so Dave could get some sort of reprieve. Stellar, top notch guy, I thought as I took hold of Trent’s hand and placed it on my lap.
“How am I gonna win Erin over if you keep tellin’ lies about me?” Dave wanted to know, and I laughed, feeling like a part of them. I tried to memorize the lightness I felt in my heart at that moment because I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel it again.
“No worries, Dave,” I winked at him. “We’ll always have the memories of your tighty-whities,” I told him, forcing him to retell the story of how he came out of his apartment wearing nothing but his underwear to his parents.
Leah shook her head at her son in mock shame as Anthony did nothing to hide his amusement. “He was always awful. No respect for others,” Leah told me, and Trent agreed.
After dinner, Trent guided me to the dance floor where he assumed I’d know what I was doing. But with soft pop blaring from the speakers and no alcohol in my system, I felt like an alien afraid to respond to the stimuli around me. But I let Trent take me to the dance floor and I felt my body move to the beat while Trent maneuvered my body with his hand on my bare back.