by Ava O'Shay
Elizabeth slid down his body, her face showing shock at the stutter of words he’d just said. Her fake smile quickly returned when she leaned in, sliding her hands into his letterman jacket, trailing her fingertips across his abs. “Can you come over tonight?”
Jolin raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by….” He pressed his lips together to stop the stutter, but it came anyway. “T-t-tonight?”
She flashed what he thought was supposed to be a seductive grin, but it kind of scared him. “Later…later.”
He lifted his chin to avoid another one of her overly enthusiastic kisses. She seemed oblivious to the fact this was his first day back at school after three weeks in the hospital rehab facility. “Not sure.” The words failed him again. Jolin closed his eyes giving his mind time to catch up with his mouth. The doctor said his speech should return to normal eventually, but with severe head trauma he couldn’t tell him when. He also said to avoid stress and try to relax. He’d only been in school for fifteen minutes and his stress levels were already skyrocketing. He took a deep breath. “If Mom works. I’ll t-t-text you.”
Her smile faltered again. He figured realization he’d actually gotten hurt during the game was sinking in. Elizabeth stood on her toes to brush her lips across his neck, but ended up smashing her face into his chest when she was pushed from behind.
“What the hell,” she snapped, her flirty demeanor falling away.
“Hey, sorry,” Quill one of the football players waved her off. A tall girl followed at his heels not even glancing their way.
“Fucking whore,” Elizabeth said under her breath.
The girl didn’t break her stride as her hand came up to flip Elizabeth off.
“She’s such a waste of air.” Elizabeth ran a hand down her cheerleading uniform, smoothing invisible wrinkles from the polyester. Then she ran a hand over her slicked back hair, pulling the gigantic bow on the top of her head tight.
Jolin pulled her in and planted a hard kiss on her mouth, hoping to prove to her he was still the old Jolin, even though he wasn’t sure he was. “D-d-don’t worry ab-b-out her.” Jolin paused to let the words come. “She’s not even on your p-p-planet.”
That’s all she needed to hear. A big smile filled her face; her perfect day glow teeth blinded him. “Isn’t that the truth.” She snuggled into his side and they headed off to their Biology class. The mass of students parted like the Red Sea as they made their way down the hall. The Captain of the football team and the Head Cheerleader, king and queen of the school.
The bell rang before they got to class. Lizzie had pulled Jolin into the dark corners of the hallway, making up for lost time she’d said. He was thankful for his loose jeans or else what they’d been up to would be obvious to everyone. They walked past Mr. Carson without batting an eye. They ran the school, and the teachers let them come and go as they pleased. The perks of being popular.
“Glad you decided to join us today,” was all Mr. Carson said before assigning Elizabeth and Jolin to be lab partners for a Biology project.
“Dude.” Brock gave Jolin a fist bump when he sat down. “Keeping busy?”
Jolin raised an eyebrow and sunk down into his chair for the lecture. Not that it mattered. The football team always got a list of questions before the test. It would be unheard of for a member of the team to not make grades.
Serenity
Sunday, October 13th
8:30 a.m.
Mom was passed out in her room and boyfriend was AWOL, so Ren headed down to the kitchen to find something to eat. She wasn’t overly shocked to find absolutely nothing in the kitchen. What little food they had before Gram’s died had been eaten by the mass of friends Mom had invited over to help her work through her sorrow, and the neighbors complained so much about the recent noise coming from their house she didn’t expect a sympathetic casserole coming their way any time soon. The house was a disaster. It hadn’t taken more than a few days for her mom to strip the walls of anything worth a dime and trash anything that hinted at family. All the photos of Quill and her had disappeared. Grams took house keeping very serious and even though the house was small and run down it had been neat and clean when she was alive. Currently the counters were covered in half eaten food and bent spoons with drug residue burnt into them. Ren filled a glass with water and started cleaning the counters when the doorbell rang.
She opened the door to Brock Roberts, her mourning hookup, standing on her front porch. Brock was a football player and had an incredible body. His hair was dark and cut close around his ears but grew longer on top, flopping in his eyes continuously. As much as Ren hated to admit it he was attractive…until he opened his stupid mouth. His dad owned their rental. Not to mention he had provided a needed, but much regretted, distraction after the funeral.
“Hey, Ren.” He smiled in an ‘I know what you did last weekend and want to do it again’ sort of way.
“Brock. What can I do for you?” Ren leaned against the door. She hoped her crappy attitude showed she wasn’t going to invite him in.
“To begin with I want to extend my families deepest sympathies about your loss.”
Ren waited. She knew there was more to it than that. His dad could have easily sent a card.
“Okay then.” He clapped his hands causing her to jump. “Can I come in?” He stepped forward, bringing his body into her personal space. He tilted his head to the side in a way that showed he knew they were much more familiar than she wanted to admit.
“Things have been kind of crazy since Grams. The place is a mess.” She closed the door behind her, keeping him on the front porch, but also bringing her closer to where Brock stood. They were chest to chest, and he wasn’t giving an inch. Chalk it up to false bravado courtesy of high school social rankings.
He smelled good, and she kicked herself for even allowing her head to go there. He was out of her league and a few secret, drunken make-out sessions at a club wouldn’t change that.
He lowered his head toward her. Ren’s head whacked the door when she pulled away. A broad smile filled his face. “Let me in, Ren,” he cooed.
Resigned, she reached behind and turned the knob, almost falling into the entry way as she tripped up and into the house. Brock followed and shut the door.
“What can I do for you?” she repeated.
“My dad wants me to learn his business so I’m taking over a few houses for him.” He moved toward Ren. She held her ground. She didn’t want him to think he intimidated her.
“Okay.”
“We were wondering what the situation was now that your grandma passed. You and Quill aren’t old enough to sign a new lease and the current one is up in a few months.”
“My mom’s living here now.” He was getting progressively closer to her. She kept her face blank of all expression. She needed to stay in control of this situation.
“So she’s planning on staying?” Brock raised an eyebrow. The smell of Mentos wafted from his mouth.
Brock’s dad was up on the happenings in their life, and Ren was sure he’d shared the fact her mom was in and out of their lives, usually more out than in.
“She’s here for now.” Ren crossed her arms over her chest. She was wearing one of Quill’s old football jerseys and a pair of workout shorts. Not her best look. She felt vulnerable without the usual costume of steampunk clothes and make-up she wore to school. It was as if Brock could see through her without the cover they provided.
His hands reached out and encircled her waist. “So she’ll sign the lease then?” His voice had gotten low and sent a chill through her. “Does she have a job?”
Ren wanted to step away from his touch. Her entire body screamed to jerk free of his hold, but she fought to keep control over the situation. “Quill and I work. We’ll make sure you get the rent on time.”
Brock laughed. “You don’t work enough hours to pay rent and utilities. Not to mention food to eat.”
“I think your only concern would be whether I can pay you t
he rent on time.” Ren stood straighter.
“Can you?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Well I don’t have it right now. With the funeral costs it will be tight this month.” Ren was lying. The funeral cost weren’t even close to being paid off, and she had no money set aside for rent. Anything Grams had, Mom spent before the body was in the ground. The only reason she showed up was probably to get the money from a life insurance policy Grams never had.
Brock pulled her into him. “Well then I guess that’s where your initial question comes back into play.”
“And what was that?” Ren was afraid to ask.
“What can you do for me?” He ran the back of his fingers down her cheek.
Ren swallowed. She didn’t like where this was going. Ren pulled her lip ring into her mouth and sucked on it for a minute before letting it slide out again. Brock took in a sharp breath, his thumb moved to caress the ring encircling her lip.
“What can I do for you,” Ren said, lowering her voice to a confident whisper. “More importantly, what’s in it for me?” She leaned into him, raising her hand to rest against his chest.
Brock diverted his eyes from hers. She suppressed a smile when she felt his heartbeat quicken. She craved the control she had over men, and if she could use it to get a few more days to pay the rent she’d play his game.
“What do you want?” She leaned in to brush her lips against the side of his neck.
Brock grabbed Ren’s shoulders and pushed her away. “I want a deal.”
Ren leaned back against the wall of the living room and crossed her arms over her chest. “What terms?”
The corner of Brock’s mouth turned up. He dipped his head and looked up through his long lashes. “You have…”
She raised an eyebrow. “A rep?”
He looked at his feet and nodded.
“Spill it, Roberts. What do you want?”
“Okay here’s the deal. I’ll give you a break on the rent. I’ll even give you some extra for the stuff you need. I want you to provide services for me.”
Ren pushed off the wall and walked away from him. “I’m not for sale.”
“I’m open to negotiation.” He followed after her.
“I’m not having sex with you for money.”
“Again, I said I’m open for negotiations.”
“I already kissed you. Let you put your hands all over me. Do I get paid for that?” Ren continued to walk across the house, hoping to get some distance between them. She hadn’t planned on even kissing him, but she was drunk at the Warehouse Club and he was a willing distraction from her mom.
“Well since we already did that for free I was thinking of upping the ante a bit.” His eyes lowered toward his crotch and then back to meet hers.
Ren turned on him. “What? You want me to suck you off for rent money? We aren’t living on the set of Gossip Girl.”
“Is that what you’re offering?”
“I don’t know that I’m offering anything.”
“I need to know if what you can do for me is worth what I’m offering.” He placed his hands on her shoulders moving his thumbs in small circles on the side of her neck. “If you’re as good as I think you’ll be it could be a couple hundred off. I expect you to be available when I call. Whenever, wherever I call.” He moved into her. “Are you worth it?”
She felt sick to her stomach. “I’m worth it,” Ren said without batting an eye. Her stomach dropped at the thought of his dick in her mouth. She slid her hands around his waist, taking his belt in her hands. Slowly, she licked her lips, sucking the lip ring in again.
Brock tipped his head back and groaned. “Fuck, Ren.”
Ren suppressed the shudder threatening to run through her body. She didn’t want to do this. She was headed right back to the life she’d thought she left behind. Enough of feeling sorry for herself. She needed money, and she knew she was worth the money he was offering. She just wished her talents lied somewhere other than blow jobs.
Jolin
Tuesday, October 15th
6:30 a.m.
“Hi, Mrs. Daniel. I was wondering if Jolin was around.” Elizabeth stood in the doorway waiting to be let in.
“He’s still upstairs. He should be getting ready for school. Let me check.” Jolin’s mom came up the stairs and lightly knocked on his door. He’d heard the entire conversation with Elizabeth, such as it was. He just didn’t feel like getting up and seeing what she wanted.
“Jo? Are you up?” The door opened a crack.
“Yeah.” He didn’t move.
His mom came in, sat on the edge of the bed, and rubbed his leg. “It’ll get better.”
Jolin draped his arm over his eyes. “W-w-when. Fuck.”
“Jo!”
“S-s-,” he stopped. He wasn’t even going to fight to get the word out. It wasn’t worth the effort. He wasn’t sorry.
“It takes time. It’s only been a few weeks, and you’ve come so far. The words will come back and if the stutter doesn’t start to fade we can start speech.”
He rolled his eyes. That would be the cherry on top of shitty.
His mom patted his leg and got up. “Well Elizabeth’s downstairs. Get up. You don’t want to be late for school.”
“Yeah. I do.”
“Ha ha. Get up.”
Jolin waited until she left then pulled himself out of bed. He’d ditched the sling for his shoulder, but still didn’t have full strength. He wriggled into a pair of sweats, deciding to forgo the shirt. He hoped to get some sympathy from Lizzie for the raw scar across his clavicle. He ran a hand through his hair and headed down stairs.
Elizabeth stood in the entry way.
“Hey babe.” His voice was raspy from sleep. He knew she was helpless when it came to his abs, but her expression told him they weren’t working their magic today. Jolin stepped up and touched her cheek. “W-w-..” He paused and tried to relax his mouth, giving his brain time to remember the words he needed. “What’s up? My m-m-mom never left the other night,” he lied. “I couldn’t c-c-come over.” He figured she was pissed he hadn’t been able to get away for a late night booty call.
Her eyes looked glassy, like she might cry, which surprised Jolin since he’d never seen her show any real emotion. She was dressed in her cheer warm-ups. Her signature bow sat on top of her head with her hair painfully pulled back in a ponytail. He cupped her jaw and leaned down to give her a kiss. “Hey b-b-babe it’s okay. I’ll make it over s-s-soon. Mom just needs to mellow about the concussion.” Maybe the scar was too much.
Elizabeth shifted so the kiss landed on her cheek. She placed a hand on his chest and pushed against him. “Can we talk?”
Whatever she wanted to tell him was not going to be good. “Sure.” Jolin leaned against the adjacent wall.
“Jolin, we need to break up.”
A loud laugh escaped. “What the fuck?” Why was it that word never caused a stutter?
She held her ground. Jolin looked at her perfect makeup and hair. She looked like she was made from plastic.
“This.” She pointed from him to her. “This won’t work anymore.”
He didn’t know what to say. A million thoughts raced through his head. Finally one made its way out. “So that’s it huh? N-n-no s-s-standing by through the tough times? S-s-support the one you love in their darkest hour?” Jolin snapped.
She placed her hands on her hips and stuck out her pouty lip. “I care about you, Jolin. Don’t act like I don’t. But I’m head cheerleader. I need to stay focused. And you aren’t on the team anymore.”
He’d seen the shift starting after news got out he would never be cleared to play. The colleges stopped calling and the atmosphere at the lunch table had gone cold and awkward. Elizabeth breaking up with him was the final nail in the coffin of his life. Not dating her would complete his exile from the popular crowd. Now all he could do was wait to see how deep into his life that exile would go.
“I can’t date you if you don’t play. Th
e head cheerleader dates the quarterback. At the very least the captain and you aren’t either. I have my future to look out for. I don’t have the time to support you through everything that’s going on, and I don’t want you making me feel bad for not being there for you.”
Jolin’s heart stopped. Did she just say she was breaking up with him because she didn’t want him making her feel bad? His mouth opened then closed before he was able to get the words out. “Get out.”
His words didn’t seem to faze her. Jolin tried to move away from her, but she grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants. “I still care about you.” She lowered her gaze to his abs and ran her fingernails lightly across them, moving her fingers just under the front of his pants. She lowered her voice into something she probably thought was sexy but it was grating. “We can’t be together at school. I need to be homecoming queen…prom queen… and in order to do that I need to be dating the quarterback. That was you and now it isn’t.”
Jolin shook his head and looked at the ceiling. A shiver went through him the more she caressed his bare skin. Not wearing a shirt was beginning to backfire on him. He didn’t want to react to her touch, he was pissed, but his body didn’t seem to be sharing the sentiment. “You want to date…” He closed his eyes and tried to relax his mouth. “B-B-Brock?”
“We can still get together. But at school…” She moved in so her breath caressed his cheek. “I need to be with the new captain.”
“N-n-not at school? Then when the fuck are w-w-we together?”
She placed a kiss on his collar bone. “My house. Yours? We can hook up.”
“Either we’re together or we’re not. I’m not going t-t-to be your hook up.”
Elizabeth huffed. She was used to getting her way. “We’ll see about that.” She brushed past him. “You’ll call me.”
“I won’t.”
Serenity
Tuesday, October 15
2:30 p.m.
The echo of the tardy bell still rang in her ears when Brock slid into his seat next to her. She kept her eyes on the paragraph she was attempting to read in the biology book set in front of her. She’d taken a few Tylenol, but nothing was cutting the hangover she was sporting and Brock’s presence was making it worse.