One Night

by Kamille Rose

  What felt like hours had passed before I wiped my face. Through my eyelashes that stuck together, I saw a box poking out from the corner of the closet. Huh, wonder why this wasn’t cleared out too.

  Scooting further, I reached for it. The book looked old which only piqued my curiosity that much more.

  Inside, I expected there to be objects but there were nothing but papers and documents. As I rummaged through them, there was a certain stack of papers that caught my attention. Federal documents they were, my father's scratchy handwriting and signatures here and there.

  I set aside those papers and dug deeper into the box to grab a photo I spotted on the way bottom. It was a photo of my father and a woman looking a little more than friendly. But she didn't look like my mother, Molly; if her brunette to Molly's unnatural blonde was anything to go by. What made me even more uneasy was that this woman was holding a child. Did my dad cheat? Was that his child?

  I needed answers and I needed to know who this woman was. My hands plucked at every piece of paper in that box. Thankfully, there were two more photos of her. In one she was holding her child, smiling down at it as if it were the only thing that mattered in the world. I flipped to the back of the photo hoping for a date, a written note, anything. And a note is what I found... and then some.

  "2-6-2001

  My sweet angel, Alex. From this day on I promise to give you everything I've got. You, my little girl, are the rightful owner to this heart and every ounce of love in it. It's all yours."

  What?!

  My head was reeling. There were no other papers or photos to look through. I ran back into the closet desperately searching for anything I could use to make sense of this. There had to be more. To my luck, I managed to find a thin manilla folder on the very top shelf next to a pile of hangers. I clutched the stack with my life, but I wasn’t prepared to face the contents. Still, I feel that even a few more minutes wouldn't have been enough to prepare me.

  "Aaron Johnson....Jolene Torres....mother and father to Alex Johnson." After I confirmed the sheet of paper was my birth certificate, I flipped a couple of pages.

  "Child welfare... Birthmother's Adoption Agency... Wide Horizons Foster Home."

  "What the fuck," I uttered numbly.

  This didn't make any sense. Jolene Torres was my birth mother, that much I could put together. But I had no idea what the adoption papers meant. I couldn't even feel my heart beating as the weight of this information began to cripple me. I was gasping for air. My heart started thumping again as a fresh downpour of tears came.

  Angry. Confused. Hurt. Lonely. Empty is how I felt. My state of mind was far from a healthy one when I decided I wanted to ring up the man who mangled my heart. With blurry eyes, I raced downstairs on the search for my phone. It was deep at the bottom of my bag left by the couch. With trembling fingers, I dialed my father's number. Like a miracle, he finally answered.

  “Alex? Hello?"

  "Hello, Dad," I spat out.

  “I was waiting for a call when I sent you the car, but —"

  At that moment I couldn't care less about what he had to say. I damn sure didn’t care if he was hurt about thanking him for a car I didn't want; especially after not hearing from him for months.

  "My entire life with you has been a lie and ironically enough, all the shit I needed to know was sitting in your closet all along."

  "Alex, hon —"

  "I don't care if you ever come back home because this empty house would be more comforting than living with a liar. Make sure you pass my message along to my mother too."

  In a fit of rage, I hung up and launched my phone across the kitchen. It shattered against the refrigerator.

  “God dammit! Why?!”

  I don't think I’d ever felt so much pain in my life. I stomped over to the cabinets above the kitchen counter and I smashed every single plate and bowl letting it shatter against the expensive Italian tile flooring.

  My chest hurt from the screams and guttural cries that ripped from inside of me as tears rained down from my eyes. I was truly alone, and the empty house echoing my curses to the world reminded me of it.

  Chapter Sixteen

  SIENNA

  The weeks flew by at a crazy rate. Before I knew it, finals were underway. Me, Alex, and Joseph studied like madmen to cover all the class material in the limited amount of time we had. Study sheets, note cards and partner quizzes. You name it, we’d done it. I felt confident about most of my exams except for chemistry, so I spent the better part of my time working on that.

  Outside of school I occasionally accompanied Joseph to the hospital. The first time I saw David, his torso was wrapped in thick blood-stained bandages, and there were IVs sticking out of his arms. It was a difficult image to process, but even more so for Joseph.

  He told me he and his mother would spend hours by David's bedside just holding his hand. On the days Joseph would normally spend by himself, I was there with him. I understood that he didn’t want to go through something so heavy alone, and I was more than happy and honored to be the one he wanted by his side.

  Slowly but surely, with each visit, David's health had increasingly gotten better. Around the fourth visit, he regained consciousness. Joseph was beyond relieved to hear his father's voice again- something he didn't think was going to happen. Watching the two men smile together again brought me unbelievable comfort.

  It wasn’t too much longer when he was ready to be released and sent home, with strict rules of course. In the end, his ribs were severely damaged. On that same day, Joseph wanted me to stay with him, but I swayed him to let me go. I'd have loved to spend more time with him, but I knew Marlene and David needed their son. Especially after such a traumatizing event. Joseph needed healing time with his family, and I made sure he would get it.

  From the hospital, I went home and straight to the bathroom for a much needed shower. Back in my room I sifted through my dresser for something to put on. I discovered Joseph's black t-shirt folded neatly inside the bottom left drawer and thought:

  "I never gave this back to him, but I don’t think I want to."

  I pulled the large fitting garment over my blow-dried hair, smiling. The hem stopped right at the middle of my thighs, covering my bottom. Joseph’s heady scent clung to the fabric like black flies on a honeysuckle vine.

  My plan was to study for my English final, but suddenly I couldn't focus on anything but the desire moistening the thin pair of panties I wore.

  Before I climbed onto my bed, I made sure to secure the lock on my door. If I was going to take the time to try to do what I wanted to do, I surely wouldn't want my mom to come barging in. Or even worse- my dad.

  When I reached my mattress, I lay on my back and scooted to the very top near the headboard, tucking a pillow underneath my head. I planted my feet and spread my legs as I slowly slid the hem of Joseph's shirt up my body, exposing my stomach and the underside of my breasts.

  My body was scorching as my fingertips lightly ran a trail from my lips and lower down. The peaks of my chest puckered once I reached the center of my desire. With the other hand I gripped the inside of my thigh, squeezing.

  I closed my eyes and let the sensations take over. Joseph wasn't here, but the beautiful tale I crafted in my head made it seem like his hands were the very ones taking my breath away. Over my panties, I gently tapped at the sensitive bundle of nerves that made my body twitch.

  The friction of the fabric against my pearl had me drawing my lip into my mouth. I traced circles over the growing wet spot, small whines escaping my mouth. I pressed down harder when images of Joseph kneeling between my legs flooded my mind.

  "Oh... please,” I moaned softly, gyrating up and down against my hand. I don't know what I was begging for, but I begged until I felt the buildup of overwhelming energy in between my hips. I rubbed faster and harder, so fast, and so hard that I had to clamp a hand down over my mouth to muffle my cries of bliss from echoing through the house.

  My eyes
were shut tight like a zipped jacket. My mind went blank, and my breath came out in short pants. In time, I relaxed back into my mattress, enjoying the feeling of serenity that washed over my body.

  Surely after, I slept the rest of my Saturday evening well into Sunday afternoon.

  ⋅. ✯ .⋅

  Monday - at lunch

  "Hey guys," I said, approaching the table with a hot slice of pepperoni pizza on my food tray.

  "Milady,” Joseph replied.

  I chuckled and took a seat on the opposite side of the table across from him and Alex who looked completely out of it. She stared off into the distance with vacant eyes and a deep frown on her lips.

  "Hey, Lex?" I called out.

  Nothing.

  "Alex.”

  "Hm?" she replied absently.

  "I said, hey."

  "Oh, sorry. I spaced for a second."

  "Well, that's clear to see," I said lightly. "What's been going on?”

  "Oh. I haven't been feeling well. The stress of finals has really gotten to me,” she said.

  "Are you sure that's all that's bothering you?" I knew my Alex and I knew something was wrong. She was a shell of herself.

  "I- yeah, don't worry. I'll feel better once all the testing is over."

  I didn't believe it for a second.

  "Okay, but please go eat something. If you're hungry, go fill up that tummy,” I told her with a teasing scrunch of my face.

  "I'm not hungry,”

  "Bull. You've been eyeballing my pizza for a minute and counting," I said, picking up the slice and taking a nice bite out of it. Sure enough her eyes followed my every move.

  "It's just... very pleasing to look at."

  "Who do you think you're fooling, Johnson? Go get something to eat.”

  "But it's such a long walk,” she complained.

  "Ay, pobrecita." (Oh, poor you.)

  When she finally got up from the table and was far enough out of earshot, I looked at Joseph raising a questioning brow. "Do you know what's up with her?" I asked.

  "I'm almost a hundred percent sure it has something to do with her parents,” he said, dusting his hands off on his jeans. “They’re the only reason she'd ever be so bent up. It’s definitely not finals."

  I sighed. "I hate that she has to go through this. Do you think we should talk to her?"

  "She'll come around."

  I meekly shook my head and pushed my half-eaten slice over to him, which he graciously accepted. My appetite vanished thinking about what Alex must be dealing with. What must be going on in her head, and what could possibly have happened for her to shut down like this. But like Joseph said, she'd come around when she was ready.

  After another 15 minutes or so chatting with the two of them in the cafe, I dismissed myself to go speak to Mr. Klein. This was my last day attending his class. I'd see him at graduation, but I wanted to give him a proper goodbye with just the two of us.

  ⋅. ✯ .⋅

  "Knock knock,” I said, poking my head into the empty classroom.

  "Bryce. It's too late. You should've asked for extra credit three months ago instead of spending your time getting high," Klein voiced from the opposite side of the door.

  "Whoa, take it easy. It's me, Sienna," I defended, fully revealing myself.

  “I'm sorry," he said with an embarrassed laugh. "What brings you here? You know you're not obligated to come to class from this point on, right?"

  "I know. I just wanted to say goodbye, and I couldn't have done that with a bunch of other students hounding you for a grade change, now could I?" I replied.

  "No, I don't think you could have," he said, beckoning me to sit.

  I took a seat closest to where Klein was standing at his desk, sadness suddenly overpowering me. A big part of me wasn't ready to close this chapter of my life yet. The last three years of my high school career have felt like three weeks, and it baffled me to think I'd be going to college soon.

  "So what's on your mind, Martinez?"

  "I guess I’ll start by saying thank you."

  "What for?"

  "For teaching me the difference between a semicolon and a comma, and for teaching me how to identify good literature. Thank you for guiding me through a complex curriculum... and for helping me find solutions to tough life decisions I had trouble finding alone." I took a deep breath to calm myself as I felt my voice begin to shake.

  "Thank you for helping me grow into who I am and thank you for being such an awesome person. You are so much more than a teacher. You’re a mentor and a damn good friend,” I told him, wiping my eyes.

  "Sienna," he said, giving my shoulder a comforting squeeze. "I've always known there was a light, something so intriguing and special about you. You were a student that so clearly wanted to be here and every time I reviewed your writing, I was left in awe,” he told me.

  "Really?"

  "Every time. You have so many stories to tell, and as long as you keep sharing those stories, I promise there will be someone who will always want to read or listen to them. Let me know when your first novel comes out. I'll be ambushing every bookstore in the tri-state area."

  "C'mon Klein, I'm already a mess here," I said, giving him a watery laugh.

  He walked to the closet behind his desk and retrieved a fresh box of Kleenex.

  "Thank you."

  "I'm serious. You are a lovely young woman with a great gift. There's no doubt in my mind you will go far whether that be with your writing or in life in general. There is nowhere you can't go and there is nothing you cannot do," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

  At this stage I was bawling. I grabbed a few tissues to blow my nose and tossed them away before grabbing another handful.

  "Y-you're the best teacher I've ever had."

  "And you are the best student I've ever had the privilege of teaching."

  Klein gently took me into a warm hug. We stayed like this for a minute. I felt a lot better about transitioning to the next phase of my life. Change is inevitable, and I knew time would move forward with or without me. I simply had to buckle down for the ride.

  Chapter Seventeen

  When I left Klein's class, I pulled out my phone to check for any messages from my mother. To my surprise there were none. Weird. I quickly grabbed my bag from my locker and stepped outside to look for her car. It was normally parked right in front of the school.

  Part of me was curious as to where she could be because she was always so punctual. The other part of me was doing backflips. I could walk home and enjoy myself!

  As I came up on the driveway of my house, I saw my dad's SUV was parked in it. He should've been at work around this hour. Things seemed to get wackier as the day went on, but I let it go.

  "Pa?" I called out, dropping my bag to the floor in the entryway.

  "Mijitaaaaaa," (Darliiiinng.) he responded from upstairs. I laughed to myself. What was this man up to?

  "No work today?" I asked.

  I waited for him at the end of the staircase and when he came down... boy, it took everything in me not to laugh.

  "Pa! What are you wearing??" I exclaimed.

  "I won't be offended if you laugh. I know it's ugly," he told me, and we both burst into fits.

  He wore a pair of dark red plaid pants with a tucked in mustard collared shirt. The shiny black ankle boots on his feet were for an entirely different occasion.

  "Seriously. Please tell me what's going on."

  "Well, David called, and he wants to have a drink. He said bedrest has been making him loco." (Crazy.)

  I laughed. "Fresh air will do him some good... but isn't 3 o’clock early for drinks? And do you really think that was the right look for a guy's afternoon out?" I teased, giving him a good look.

  "Who says we're drinking heavy? I enjoy a late afternoon mojito as much as the next guy."

  "And are you sure the next guy likes himself a mojito? Maybe he's a Long Island iced tea kind of fella," I said, fighting a grin.


  "And what would my daughter know about a Long Island iced tea, hm?" he asked, scrutinizing me.

  "Enough.”

  He laughed a genuine belly laugh and pulled me into a hug, kissing my forehead. I merrily wrapped my arms around his torso and rested my head on his chest.

  "As long as it's not Tequila. That stuff will get you messed up. How are you?" he continued.

  "I'm good. Really, really good," I admitted. I felt the happiest I had in a long time.

  "I'm glad."

  "How are you?"

  "I'm doing well, but I obviously need help.” He pulled away from me, gesturing to his outfit.

  "That you do. I think I can help you find something that screams a little less 'golf instructor' and something a little more 'casual but stylish dad.'"

  "Vamos!" (Let's go!)

  It took a while, but my dad had finally gotten situated with a much better outfit and I was up in my room catching up on a book. I was at the part where the main character, Ainsley, was finally going to confess her feelings towards her love interest, Jackson, right when I received a text from Joseph. It was so hard to pull my eyes away from the pages. So terribly difficult.

  Joey ��

  6:10 p.m./ Good evening, Mariposa.

  6:11 p.m./ Good evening, Mister.

  6:11 p.m./ Are you done studying for tonight?

  6:11 p.m./ I am. I was enjoying my downtime with a good book until you texted.

  6:12 p.m./ Welp! Thanks to whoever invented bookmarks, right?

  6:12 p.m./ True. What's up??

  6:13: p.m./ We're going out tonight. I had the idea of taking Alex out to try to cheer her up.

  6:13 p.m./ That's actually a really good idea. We can all go to Giovanni's.

  6:13 p.m./ You read my mind. He's supposed to be having live music tonight. I think that'll be a nice touch.

  6:14 p.m./ Would you be ready to leave in an hour?

  6:14 p.m./ I sure would be.

  6:15 p.m./ Sweeeet. I'll pick you up in an hour, lady.

  6:15 p.m./ See you in a bit, cheeseball (: