I sniffled, trying to get ahold of myself. I was being a baby. “Why don’t guys cry?”
“We do. In private.”
“What happens when the pain is too much and there are people around?” Didn’t they ever just … break?
“We figure out a way to swallow back the pain and save it for later.”
That old rhyme also claimed little girls were made of sugar, spice, and everything nice, but I was more along the lines of an unsweetened tea that attracted flies. And I’d never fit the bill of a young lady made of ribbons, lace, and a sweet, pretty face. Puberty had really botched that deal for me.
Pretty people got pretty things. I was awkward, poor, and a victim of my upbringing in the worst possible way. If I could just look like the pretty girls, the ones on the cheer squad who caught the attention of all the boys, maybe I could get somewhere better than this.
As it stood, I was finding very little to look forward to. “Do you think I’ll ever be pretty?”
Gavin leaned back and studied my face. “You’re pretty now, Avery Dean.”
“No, I’m not. I’m chubby, and my clothes are ugly and I can’t even French braid my own hair.”
He laughed. “What the hell does any of that have to do with being pretty?”
“Everything.”
“Avery, you are pretty. You have beautiful eyes, a smile that lights up a room when you laugh, and…”
Hanging on every word as if it were a lifeline leading to a better place, I blinked up at him. “And what?”
“How old are you?”
“Seventeen and a half.”
“Well, you’re built like a twenty-year-old. You’re not chubby. You’re curvaceous. Trust me. You’re pretty.”
No one ever called me more than all right.
I was suddenly very aware of how I was sitting on his lap, the way his face wore a shadow of hair along his jaw, and the intense way his eyes stared into mine. “Why don’t you have a girlfriend, Gavin?”
“I don’t want one. Not yet.”
“How come?”
“Because I’m leaving in a few years and I don’t need anything or anyone making me want to stay.”
“You’re leaving?” I pulled back, furious he would announce this only an hour after I watched my brother drive away.
“I can’t stay here, Avery Dean. I’m better than this place. So are you. I’ll work for a little longer, but then I’m enlisting. I want to see the world. There’s so much more to it than Blackwater. I want to live in a city and experience other cultures. There’s no culture here, just poverty, pollution, and cynicism. This place is a cancer.”
I’d never heard it put that way, but he was right. Something happened to a person when they spent more than a decade here. Their standards dropped to irretrievable depths and a sort of hardness formed around them like a callous.
“I don’t want to stay here either.”
“You won’t. You’ll go to college and—”
“College is for rich people.”
“College is for smart people. All you need to do is figure out a way to escape, and then you’ll figure out a way to survive.”
I never knew he thought so highly of me. No one else did. I began calculating his age. Drew was nineteen. Gavin had to be around the same. He didn’t graduate because he got his GED and had a job when everyone else was still in school. Maybe he was nineteen. My gaze roamed his face, marking all the signs of maturity.
“Avery…”
Realizing I was staring, I blinked and looked away. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. You can look at me.”
My lashes lifted and there was something different in his eyes, a sort of exposed secret that wasn’t there a minute ago. I didn’t have guy friends and I pretty much kept to myself at school when other girls were around. Gavin wasn’t necessarily my friend, but he was Drew’s and the only person who might understand why today was so hard.
My hand lifted and stilled. I hesitated, glancing into his watchful eyes. He gave a slight nod that I read as permission. My fingers combed through his hair, and my lungs seemed to expand in my chest. It was so soft.
His eyes closed, and his head tilted into my touch. “That’s nice.” His voice was a breathy whisper that danced across my teary cheeks.
It was different than the hair on his face. My fingers traced over the stubble at his jaw and gently trailed to his lips. His eyes opened, and I stilled. “Should I stop?”
“Only if you want to.”
I didn’t want to stop. His warm skin thawed the chill inside of me, and I’d never looked at a man so closely. My fingers traced down his sleeves and over his chest.
“Guys are so hard.”
He grunted and my gaze flicked to his, self-consciously checking to see if he was laughing at me. His lashes were low, hiding his eyes, but he still watched me. His arms shifted, and I scooted closer.
“I think you could get a girlfriend real easy.”
“I think you’re trouble.”
My hand stilled, and I stared at his face. “Why?”
“Have you ever been kissed, Avery Dean?”
My head slowly shook. “Boys pay no attention to me.”
“I bet they do. But you have this intimidating edge about you that probably keeps them at bay. I bet they watch you when they think you’re not looking.”
My brow pinched. I didn’t want to be intimidating. I wanted to be loveable. “Well, it doesn’t do me any good if they’re too chicken to say anything.”
“You like being asked?”
I shrugged. “Asked what?”
“By a guy… You like when they ask you? Beg?”
I laughed. “I think begging is a little too extreme to set my hopes on. I’m not that popular. A wave or a smile would be nice.”
His gaze dropped to my lips, and I shifted, not used to anyone looking at me so closely.
“What are you staring at?”
“Your mouth.”
“Why?”
“I want to kiss you.”
I frowned. “Why?”
His lashes lifted, his eyes turning almost pleading. “Can I kiss you, Avery Dean? I’ll show you how a good kiss should feel.”
“Are you screwing with me?”
He shook his head. “No. Just trying to salvage an otherwise shitty day. Say yes, Avery. Please.” His breathing shifted, and something tightened in the air around us. “I’ll beg.”
Never expecting anything like this from Gavin, I nodded.
His eyes watched me as he moved forward. His arms loosely curled around my back. “Shut your eyes.”
Everything went dark as my lashes lowered. His voice, a gravel scrape against my temple sent shivers down my spine.
“If you tell me to kiss you, I will.” His arms remained around my back, cradling me to his front as his voice traveled to my other ear. “If you tell me to make you feel better, I can. Just tell me what to do. I can’t bear to see you cry, Avery Dean. Tell me what to do.”
My heart tripped out of beat and sped into double time. Licking my lower lip, I tried to remain still on his lap as excitement rushed through my veins. His words put me under some sort of spell, and though I was hardly moving, I was out of breath.
“Kiss me,” I whispered.
The soft press of his lips warmed my mouth. His arms tightened, and I sucked in a breath. Pressure built in strange places, warm enough to make my outsides shiver.
His mouth firmed against mine, not hard, but undeviating, as if seeking to get inside. My lips parted, and his tongue teased like silk along the seam, pushing past my teeth and licking deeper.
A rush of blood raced to my heart, and I shifted on his lap. Our heads tilted, as our mouths played, pulling, tasting, feeling. I liked the way it felt. All of it. Especially his arms around me. In that moment I seemed the only person who existed to him. His focus became a drug I wanted to take again and again.
His hand lowered to the back of my jeans and nudged me close
r. Something pressed against my crotch and I broke the kiss, looking down.
His mouth kicked up in a half grin. “Sorry. You’re a good kisser.”
I had brothers, so I knew about erections. I’d just never seen one before. “Should I touch it?”
He laughed. “Definitely not. Drew would kill me.”
So? “Drew’s not here.”
His expression froze as he studied me for a silent second. “We can’t have sex.”
“Okay.” I didn’t want to have sex anyway. “Show it to me.”
His mouth curved a second after I said those words. It was if they were magic words, words that filled him with the same feelings I had when we were kissing.
He slid me off his lap and lifted his hips, rolling down the zipper of his jeans. Flicking open the button, he reached inside, and my eyes widened. It was the first time I’d seen this part of a man, and it looked swollen enough to cause pain—to a girl and to him.
“Does it hurt?”
He laughed. “No.” His fingers curled around it and slowly tugged.
“Wanna feel it?”
I nodded before I fully made up my mind.
He took my hand and wrapped it around his, and together we stroked. “It’s warm.”
His eyes grew heavy as my fingers explored, finding the crown to be the softest part. I gasped as a pearl of moisture transferred to my finger.
“Taste it.”
My gaze jerked to his. “What?”
“Some girls like it.”
“Really?”
He shrugged. “Men love having their dick sucked.”
That wasn’t exactly the same as women loving the job. I wanted to know if I liked it. “Can I try it on you?”
He watched me through the slits of his heavy eyes. “You're too curious for your own good. Will you let me try it on you if I let you do it to me?”
My underwear was wet, and I tried to remember which ones I put on that morning. “Okay.”
He kissed me, and this time, it was different, deeper, more intentional. He eased me to my back on the couch, and my pants were suddenly open. I lifted my hips, but he only pulled them down to my thighs. As his tongue teased mine, his fingers swirled over my lower belly, drifting closer and closer to my underwear. I sucked in a breath as his fingers lifted the fabric and teased the patch of hair underneath.
“I’m guessing no one’s ever touched you here.”
“No, but that’s okay.”
He pushed my jeans down a little more and glided the tip of a finger through the seam of my folds. Damp skin parted, and a sound I’d never made escaped my throat. “Sorry.”
His eyes lifted as his finger softly teased. “Noises are okay. They tell the guy if you like what he’s doing.” He pressed a little deeper, and I gasped.
My spine arched as I leaned back. “I think my jeans are in the way.”
“I think it’s best we keep them on.” He lowered them to my knees, but no more. Looking up at me, he smiled. “Can I do it to you, first?”
Curious, I nodded.
“Lie back.”
I looked at the ceiling and sucked in a breath as his tongue, velvet soft, traced over me. His hair tickled my hips and, when I glanced down, he was watching me, tongue on my privates, eyes heavy with something I didn’t recognize.
He licked at a sensitive spot, and I squirmed. “Do you like it?”
“I’m not sure.”
He slipped a hand between my thighs. “You’ll like this.”
I let out a startled sound as he pressed a finger inside of me again, this time deeper than before. His head lowered and his mouth closed over me, sucking as the finger started to move.
Sensation spiraled through me at a startling rate, and I twisted, unsure what was happening. “Gavin…”
He paused, and the feelings stilled, but my body throbbed. “Do you want me to stop? You’re in charge.”
“It feels like something’s about to go very wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like… I don’t know. You’re doing something to me.”
He laughed. “It’s called an orgasm. Trust me. You’ll like it. Nothing bad will happen.”
I hesitated, unsure if I believed him. “Maybe we should stop.”
“Please…” He licked. “Let me make you come.” Another lick. “Please.”
It wasn’t necessarily what he was doing that tempted me, but the way he asked to do it like I was something to be worshiped, something he’d beg to touch. I relaxed, and his mouth and fingers stole my breath.
The silly sounds escaping from my throat were embarrassing. He was never rough, and there wasn’t any pain, but I didn’t like not knowing what was coming. I suddenly felt very out of control, like I was falling without a safety net.
“I can’t.” I scrambled out from under him.
“What?” He caught my jeans.
“I can’t do it.”
“Yes, you can.”
I scooted to the pillows. “No, I can’t. It’s embarrassing. I don’t want one. It’ll hurt.”
He ducked his head, dropping his brow to the bedding as his shoulders shook.
“Are you laughing at me?”
Lifting his face, his cheeks wore an amused flush. “Avery Dean, they feel amazing. Everyone wants one.”
“Let me give one to you first.” I’d have to see it before I made up my mind.
“Okay, but guys are different.”
“Different how?”
“Messier.”
“How much mess?”
“Like a sip. Some girls swallow it.”
That was going to take a lot of begging. I grabbed a tissue from the table. “Sit the way you were.”
“I think you like bossing me around.”
I paused and smiled. I did like it. “Is that weird?”
“No, it’s hot.” He rolled off of me and sat up. “Is this how you want me?”
I wasn’t really sure. “Is that the way people do this?”
“There are hundreds of ways to do it. It’s whatever you like.”
“I think I like you on the bottom.”
He grinned. “Then you get the top.”
I shoved my jeans off my legs because they were just in the way. Analyzing the area, I slid to the floor. “Should I touch you first?”
He leaned back, folding his hands behind his head. “I surrender to your desires. Do whatever you want. You’re in charge.”
* * *
Those words. Those beautiful words. They didn’t only apply to that day, but every day that followed.
Gavin didn’t want to be responsible for anyone but himself. He wanted to get through the last mile and get the hell out. He liked pleasing me, and I liked letting him. We, like everyone else there, were desperate for company, starved for affection, and happy to find a hobby that didn’t cost any money.
The loneliness ate at most people in Blackwater. It was a cancer as he said. But we found a way to fill a void. It hadn’t taken long for him to change his mind about sex. And once Pandora’s Box was opened, the lid never fit right again.
I stared at his bedroom, familiar yet vacant. My innocence was here. My fears, my secrets, my shaky confidence, and my euphoric screams, they all breathed to life in this room. So alive, they were stealing the breath from my lungs now.
“You’re gone.” My words intruded on this mausoleum of memories, ripping the scab of an unhealed wound on my heart. “You left, and now I’m all alone and still tied to this place.”
A tear stumbled past my lashes, and I wiped it away, angling my blurred gaze toward heaven. “Nothing’s made sense since you died. I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing or fucking my life up worse than it was already fucked.”
Rolling to my side, I covered my face as a harsh sob ripped from my throat. My heart jerked as memories punched into me. He was gone. He’d spent his whole life trying to get out and only made it a few months, never fully seeing all the things he wanted to
see.
So much pain flooded me. I was drowning. I couldn’t catch my breath or move. The sadness washed over me in waves. I gulped for air, but everything was drenched in tears of sorrow and fear.
I wanted the ache in my chest to go away, but it crushed me. I should have never climbed in his window. I should have never come back here. I could feel the hopelessness weighing me down, the fears and insecurities punching through my skull.
My stomach hurt. My teeth chattered. My life seemed so meaningless, a speck I feared would blow away without a trace, just as Gavin’s had.
A while later, maybe an hour, maybe two, I laid in the silence. Shadows grew as the sunlight moved across the windows. Soon it would be dusk. Somehow, I needed to get myself up, dust myself off, and remember who I was supposed to be.
I couldn’t stay here. I could never come back to this place. It was time to say goodbye. Avery Dean Mudd was gone, and I needed to get back to being Avery Johansson.
Again, I thought of the day Drew left. Looking back, I think I was more upset he hadn’t offered to take me with him.
As I returned to my mother’s, I took one last look around, feeling as if I should take some sort of keepsake from my childhood, but unable to find anything I wanted.
The scent of rubbing alcohol filled the air, and I knew she was drunk. Not the sort of drunk a normal person gets after a few glasses of wine or even a couple shots. But the kind of wasted a person gets when they’re so intent on feeding an addiction they don’t care about the poison they choose.
There was no choice here. Just waste. A wasted day. A wasted year. A wasted life.
“Where the hell’d you go?”
“For a walk.” I found my coat and put it on. “I have to get back to the train station.”
“I’m gonna need some money for groceries for the next few weeks.”
I stared at the dishes she’d accumulated in my absence. In another few days, the house would be just as bad as I found it that morning. I wasn’t a cruel person, and I’d never leave my mother destitute, but she was living off more of my income than I was.
“Why aren’t you using your government card?”
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