by S. Walden
He knew her parents didn’t show up. They made their intentions clear three nights ago when Cadence called home to speak to her mother. After she hung up, she told Mark she didn’t care that they refused to attend, but he awoke later that night to the sounds of her soft cries. She was curled up lying close to the edge of the bed, far away from him. He reached out to touch her, then stopped. Something told him not to, that it’d be disastrous if he tried to comfort her. So he left her alone. The next morning she was bright and cheery and as fake as he’d ever seen her.
He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Please smile. Please smile. Please smile.”
He thought back to the first time he saw her really smile. She grinned at him on the side of Highway 28, but it wasn’t until she sat on a metal bench in the bus parking lot on the first day of school that he saw a real smile. She giggled about the names she’d been calling him, revealing pretty teeth with one imperfection. She had a calcium deposit on her eye tooth. Yeah, he’d noticed. And he recalled feeling like a total creep for liking it so much.
He stopped drumming his fingers when he saw her. She was flanked by her brother and Fanny, and she was laughing. Thank God! The relief was instantaneous, the coiled tension wrapped around his heart falling away. He could breathe again.
Cadence opened the passenger door and climbed in.
“It was hot as hell out there!” she said, leaning over to kiss Mark on his cheek.
“I thought the graduation was held in the gym,” he replied, turning the key in the ignition.
“Not enough room. They changed it last minute,” she said. She pointed to her face. “Am I disgusting, or what?”
He looked her over, the beads of sweat that glistened on her hairline. The slight smudge of black liner under her blue eyes. Her once-straight hair was curled into frizzy waves because of the humidity. And she’d spent so much time ironing her hair, he thought with a smirk. She was the prettiest mess he’d ever seen.
“You’re beautiful, Cadence,” he whispered.
“Gross,” Oliver muttered from the backseat.
Mark chuckled. He’d forgotten about the passengers in the back.
“Well, besides the heat, not so bad?” he asked, pulling onto the street.
“It was lovely,” Fanny replied. “The ceremony was lovely. Cadence was lovely.”
Mark glimpsed Cadence. She grinned and hung her head, letting her hair fall forward to shield her face.
“I didn’t throw my hat up,” she said, fingering the tassel. “I wanted to keep it.”
Mark smiled.
“Like a trophy,” she went on. And then she whispered to herself, “I made it.”
He reached out and took her hand, placing it on the stick shift.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Holding your hand,” he explained, shifting to fourth gear. “While I drive.”
Cadence grinned and turned her head. She caught sight of Oliver rolling his eyes.
“And Kim and I are annoying?” he asked. “Please.”
Fanny laughed.
“Did you talk to Avery?” Mark asked Cadence.
Three weeks. Three weeks since Avery yelled at her that Monday morning in the hallway at school. She’d tried repeatedly ever since to talk to her, but Avery ignored her. Avoided her. Was downright cruel to her.
Mark felt Cadence’s arm tense. She shook her head. Oliver bristled.
“Avery’s a bitch,” he spat.
“Ollie!” Cadence cried. “Don’t say that.”
“Well, she is,” he went on. “It’s been three weeks. She needs to get over it.”
Fanny nodded but said nothing.
“She’s hurt, Ollie,” Cadence explained. “I ruined her life.”
“No, you didn’t,” Oliver argued. “She ruined her life. Why can’t people just take responsibility for the crap they do?”
“Because it’s easier to lay blame,” Fanny pointed out.
“But I am partly to blame!” Cadence said. “I messed up in the theatre.”
“I messed up in the theatre. It didn’t have anything to do with you,” Mark chimed in.
“Yeah, dude. You did,” Oliver agreed.
“It doesn’t matter who messed up,” Fanny interjected. “The point is that you were wrong, Cadence. Avery was wrong. Mark was wrong . . .” She glanced at Oliver. “I’m sure you were wrong, too.”
“Hey! This has nothing to do with me!” Oliver cried. “I was all kinds of in the right! I rescued my sister!”
“You got me punched in the eye,” Cadence said flatly.
“Yeah, and then I rescued you,” Oliver replied. “Gimme a break. Jeez.”
Cadence cracked a smile.
“You’re a good friend, honey,” Fanny said, touching Cadence’s shoulder. “Remember that when Avery comes around to apologize. Be quick to forgive. Slow to anger.”
Suddenly, Cadence was uncomfortable. She didn’t want to think of that awkward conversation, if it even happened at all.
“Can we talk about something else?” she asked.
“I think that’s a good idea,” Mark replied, pulling into his usual space in front of the apartment. He asked Cadence to hang back while the others went inside.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, noting his expression.
“My mom’s here,” he said quietly. “She wanted to come celebrate . . . my life choices.”
They looked at one another—passing the unspoken joke—and burst out laughing.
“Did she really say that?” Cadence wheezed.
“Uh, yeah.”
Cadence cackled with laughter. “I’m a life choice! I guess that makes sense. I am a life choice. You chose me.”
“It’s so ridiculous. She’s trying her hardest to be cool with this.” He sighed. “She just wants to know you better. Dad’s gone, and she’s got too much time and energy to focus on me. You know?”
“I get it,” Cadence replied.
“She was so worried about finding me a date,” Mark went on. “I don’t know why she’s not trying to find her own.”
Cadence’s grin faded as she remembered that uncomfortable conversation so many months ago at church. Mrs. Connelly nearly revealed a secret about Mark, and Cadence had never forgotten it. She wanted on so many occasions to ask him, but she could never find the courage. And he never offered her anything.
“I don’t want your graduation party to be weird,” Mark said. “If you’re not okay with this, I’ll tell her we’ll do it another time.”
“No, no,” Cadence said. “I have back-up anyway. This might be the best way to go.”
Mark chuckled. “She’s not gonna attack you or anything.”
“I know. But maybe it won’t be so weird with other people around.” Cadence thought for a moment. Actually, the entire group was weird—a hodgepodge of different ages, life stages, connections. She realized Mrs. Connelly would fit right in.
She wasn’t expecting a soul-crushing hug, however, when she walked through the front door. And yes, it was soul-crushing. Mrs. Connelly hugged her so hard, she could feel the squeeze on her heart.
“Congratulations, honey!” Mrs. Connelly cried. “You look beautiful!”
Cadence knew she looked far from it. She looked like a kid waiting to be picked up from the last day of summer camp. She probably smelled like it, too, having spent hours outside in the Atlanta sun wrapped in polyester.
Cadence pulled back and mumbled a shy “thank you.”
“Were you nervous walking up on stage?” Mrs. Connelly asked.
Cadence nodded and grinned.
“Let me tell you what happened to me when I graduated . . .”
Mark hung back in the kitchen with Fanny grabbing plates and utensils for their lunch. He listened intently to his mother’s story and Cadence’s laughter, thinking that even though his girlfriend had lost one mother, she may have gained another.
***
Cadence walked into the living room later that night wearing h
er graduation robe and cap. Mark smiled.
“Wanna reenact everything for me?” he asked, sitting on the couch.
She said nothing as she moved her tassel from right to left. Then she stared at him. There was something primal in her eyes, and he caught on immediately.
“So what does that mean?” he asked, watching the tassel dangle and sway next to her ear.
She licked her lips then curled them into a sultry grin.
“Well, I’m a graduate,” she said, walking closer to him.
“Uh huh.”
“So I guess that makes me all grown up.”
Mark smiled. “You can be grown up.”
She stood between his legs, waiting for him to continue what she started. He slid his hand under her robe and up her outer leg, shocked when he came to her hip and discovered she was naked.
“Is this a present for me?” he asked, steering his hand between her legs. She was soft and wet. “Because I’m not the one who graduated.”
“For the both of us,” she replied.
He moved his finger in her.
“I can get behind that.”
He stood up and backed her to the center of the room next to the coffee table. Then he knelt in front of her and lifted her robe.
“Put your leg up,” he said, and she complied, placing her foot on the edge of the table.
He let the robe fall over his head, shielding himself from her view as he went to work on her. How did he get so lucky, he thought, as he ran his tongue over her soft folds? She moaned while he teased her open, sliding his tongue inside her, tasting her essence.
She placed her hands on his veiled head to keep her balance. She didn’t realize she was moving her hips, pressing into his face, silently asking him to lick her there. That tiny place where pleasure builds hard and fast, then comes undone against one’s will. He knew she wanted his tongue there, so he avoided it and waited until she begged for it. Didn’t take long.
“Please, Mark,” she breathed.
“Please, what?” he asked, raining kisses all over the insides of her thighs.
“You know what!” she cried, frustrated.
He chuckled and drew back. She tensed and waited, then watched his head move closer towards her body until . . .
“Oh!”
He nipped her clit softly.
“Is that what you wanted?” he asked.
“Yes!”
He swirled his tongue over her before taking her clit in his mouth again. He sucked gently while he slipped a finger inside her. She moaned and dropped her head back, listening as he hummed against her sensitive skin.
“Have you ever come standing up?” he asked.
“No,” she breathed.
Mark chuckled. He already knew what would happen, but he kissed her anyway because he liked her in this position and didn’t want to move her. He wrapped his hand around the back of her thigh and continued his sweet assault. Swirling tongue. Probing finger. He found a rhythm, and just like they were creating music together, she set a melody of whimpers to the pace of his tongue, his thrusting finger. The crescendo built as her body tensed.
“I can’t,” she panted.
“You better,” he said against her flesh.
He wouldn’t let up until he heard her scream, and she did. She screamed and shook, clutching desperately at his head, but her hands slipped on the slickness of the robe, and she fell backwards onto the living room floor.
“Jerk!” she yelled, laughing.
“What do you mean?” he asked indignantly.
“You let go of my leg!” she cried, fighting him as he climbed on top of her.
“Want a do-over?” he asked.
“I’m too sensitive.”
“I’ll be gentle.”
“I’ll still be sensitive.”
He grinned. “You keep feeding my ego, you know.”
“How so?”
“Well, I knock you out. I make you fall down. I’m starting to get a little cocky about my skills.”
She pushed him off her. “Oh, get over yourself.”
He laughed and lay beside her on the floor. They stared at the ceiling as they talked.
“I’m scared to be on my own,” Cadence said.
“You’re not on your own,” Mark replied.
She shrugged. “Well, you know what I mean. No parents.”
“My mom sure as hell would like to be your parent,” Mark said.
Cadence chuckled. “Was that all for show, do you think?”
Mark shook his head. “In the beginning, I thought maybe. But after about five minutes I realized it was genuine. She really likes you. She thinks you’re perfect for me.”
“And why’s that?”
“I think because you make me smile. And she sees that.”
Cadence thought for a moment.
“Doesn’t have anything to do with your past?”
Mark tensed. It had everything to do with his past, but he couldn’t tell her now. Not on her graduation day. Not in the weeks ahead when she needed to get adjusted to her new life. Not when she’d be starting college soon. There was never a good time, he realized, to tell her his secret. But he knew the longer she lived with him and became connected to him in the most intimate ways, the more damaging the truth would be once she discovered it.
He was trapped.
“I think it just has to do with a mother wanting her son to be happy,” he lied.
Cadence nodded. “Is your mother really lonely?”
“Lonely for companionship, yes. I mean, she’s got her ladies at church she visits a lot, but at the end of the day, she doesn’t like going home to an empty house.”
“What are her friends like?” Cadence asked.
“I try to steer clear of them. For a while, they were all in it together to find me a date. Like I’m some socially inept dork or something.”
Cadence giggled.
“What? You think I’m a socially inept dork?”
“No!” she said, laughing. “I’m just picturing these little old church ladies hatching plans for you. It’s funny.”
“Marybeth. She’s the worst,” Mark said, grimacing.
Cadence smiled. “I’d like to meet them.”
“No, you wouldn’t.”
Cadence was quiet for a moment.
“I mean, you’ll have to meet them eventually if my mother has anything to say about it.”
“I want your mom to like me!” Cadence blurted. And then she added more quietly, “I’ll do whatever I have to to make her like me.”
Mark took her hand in his and looked at her. “Hey.”
She turned her face to his.
“She likes you. Very much.”
Cadence nodded.
“I don’t want you to worry about that right now anyway. I want you to focus on work and getting ready for college.”
“Okay.”
“Actually, on second thought, I don’t even want you to focus on that right now,” Mark said. He peeled himself off the floor then helped Cadence up. “Tonight’s a celebration. And I have champagne. And there’s cake left. So what do you think?”
“I’ve never had champagne,” Cadence said.
Mark wiggled his eyebrows. “I know. And I’m gonna take full advantage of that.”
Cadence laughed. “Fine. Just don’t let me topple over again.”
“I won’t,” Mark replied. “I’m gonna have you on your back most of the time.”
He pulled her close and unzipped the front of her robe. He pushed it off her shoulders, letting it puddle around her feet in silky waves. She stood completely naked, and he took in every inch of her. Small, firm breasts. Tapered waist. Shapely hips and thighs for a girl so small.
“I want you to stay like that while we drink our champagne,” Mark said.
“Okay.”
“And I want you on my lap,” he added.
“Sure.”
He studied her face. She looked like a woodland sprite, and he thought h
e should tell her but decided against it. She’d laugh at him and think he was a weirdo. So he dropped the “woodland.”
“You look like a sprite,” he said.
“Is that good or bad?” she asked.
“Frustrating,” he replied. And then he had a thought. “Why don’t you go run and hide and let me find you. I’ll have a present for you when I do.”
“Seriously? You want me to go run off naked and hide?”
He nodded.
“You’re the weirdest guy I know,” she laughed.
“I know. Now get going, you little sprite.” He turned her around and popped her bottom.
“Oh my God!” she squealed and took off down the hall.
Mark walked to the kitchen and poured their champagne. He left the glasses on the coffee table. Then he went on the hunt.
“What’s up with you lately?” Cadence asked, lying sprawled on the couch.
Oliver sat at the end, every now and then trying to push his sister’s feet off his knees.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“The ‘tude. You’ve got a ‘tude going on. It’s not like you,” she replied.
Oliver shrugged. “I don’t have a ‘tude,” he mumbled.
Cadence grinned and scratched the top of her head.
“Seriously, Ollie?”
Oliver looked like his words were itching to burst forth, but he didn’t want to bring up bad times. He thought it wouldn’t be good for his sister—her emotional state. He had no idea why he thought she was so delicate right now. She’d run away. She’d stood up to Dad. She was paying taxes.
She was growing up.
“Ollie?”
“I think God’s an asshole!” he blurted.
“OLLIE!” Cadence punched his stomach with her foot.
“Ouch! That hurt, Cay!”
“What the hell?”
Oliver rubbed his stomach.
“He’d have to be for what happened to you,” he argued.
Cadence rolled her eyes. “He didn’t punch me in the eye. Dad did.”
“But he allowed it to happen.”
“Oh my God,” Cadence muttered.
“What?”
“That’s, like, everyone’s go-to line when shit goes wrong in their lives. ‘God didn’t have to allow this to happen to me.’ Grow the fuck up, Ollie.”
Cadence paused, thinking of Avery—that afternoon not long ago when the girls sat at lunch discussing the classroom closet incident. Avery had told her to grow up. Just like that: “Grow the fuck up.” Now, in this moment, she ached for her friend.