chapter twenty-one
“Have you ever had a boyfriend?” Ivy asked. Her fever had broken, but she was still pretty weak after the miscarriage. We were sitting on her bed and I was French-braiding her hair. Mitch had given me time off to look after her, but that also meant that if he came around looking for a little loving, I had to give it to him.
Mitch expected us all to act like we wanted it. Like he was the best we’d ever had.
“Other than Mitch? No.”
“Mitch was never your boyfriend.” She said this like it was a fact, not like I was stupid.
I shook my head. “So, no. I’ve never had a boyfriend. You?”
She nodded. “His name was Cal. He lived down the street from me. Well, from my parents.”
My hands paused. I waited to see if she would start crying.
She didn’t. Something had changed in her. She was starting to shut down. She was becoming one of us.
“Did you love him?” I asked, resuming my work. Her hair was soft and fine, slipping through my fingers.
“I thought I did. He broke up with me for another girl. I cried for days.”
“Jerk.”
She shrugged. “Just a guy.” She was quiet for a moment. “Do you think the miscarriage was God’s way of punishing me?”
“I don’t know much about God, but no. If anything, it was a favor.”
She turned her head. “Didn’t feel like one.”
“Would you want to have a baby, knowing the father was a guy who comes here?”
Ivy shuddered. “No.”
“So, there. Maybe God was looking out for you.” Honestly, I didn’t think God saw any of us. If he did, he was an asshole.
She patted my leg. “Someday you’ll have a boyfriend.”
I snorted. “I’d have to get out of here first.”
“You will. I know it.”
I wanted to tell her we were going to die in this place, or some place like it. But if she wanted to believe there was hope, I wouldn’t stop her. It would get beaten out of her soon enough.
“I don’t want a boyfriend,” I said. “Men are all bastards.”
“Not all of them. My father’s not.”
I wondered if her mother would have agreed. “My father walked out when I was a kid.”
“I’m sorry.”
I shrugged. “I don’t really remember him.”
“You’re probably better off without him.”
“Maybe.” Or maybe if he’d stuck around, I wouldn’t have been sitting on a saggy mattress with crusty sheets, wondering if I’d live to see eighteen.
I finished her braid and wrapped a battered old elastic around the tail. She looked about twelve.
The door to the room opened and Mitch came in. He looked at Ivy and smiled. “You feeling better, darlin’?”
She nodded. “A little, Mitch.”
“She’s still bleeding,” I told him, reminding him the doc said she wasn’t supposed to work.
“She’ll be better in no time,” he said. He pointed at me. “You, come with me.”
I glanced at Ivy. “But…”
“You can come back when you’re done, but get off your fucking fat ass and come with me now.”
I got off the bed and walked toward him. I wasn’t wearing the stuff we wore during business hours. I looked like a regular girl.
I glanced over my shoulder at Ivy as Mitch opened the door. “I’ll be back,” I promised her.
She nodded.
Outside on the walkway, it was chilly. There was snow on the ground, and I shivered in my T-shirt and jeans. Both had gotten too big for me since I came to the motel. I sucked in great big breaths of fresh air as Mitch guided me to another room.
“You do whatever he wants, you hear?” I was told as he knocked on the door. “I don’t want to find out you were a disappointment. He’s paying good money for what’s between your legs, so you better make it worth it.”
Yeah, yeah. Whatever.
“You shower this morning?” Mitch asked.
I nodded.
“Good. You won’t smell like spunk.”
The door opened and I looked up. Standing in the doorway of the motel room was Frank, my mother’s boyfriend. He was wearing a button-down shirt and dark jeans—the outfit he wore when they went out.
“Alexa,” he said, his tongue darting over his lips. “It’s good to see you.”
I looked past him into the room. “Is Mom here?”
He and Mitch both laughed. “No, sweetie,” Frank said. “It’s just you and me.”
I stared at him, his meaning finally sinking in past the haze of shock and pills. I didn’t think I was capable of surprise, or even disappointment anymore, but I was wrong. Bile rose in my throat.
He was going to use me. And then he was going to go home to my mother and leave me here.
“I’ve been waiting a long time to be alone with you,” he told me, drawing me into the room with a hand on my arm.
I glanced back at Mitch, hoping he’d stop this. I wanted to beg him not to let this happen, but he only smiled. “She’s worth the wait, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
The door shut and he was gone.
* * *
On Monday, we find out the apologies from Mike and his friends will be published in the town newspaper and its website on Thursday. We’re going to get our copies on Tuesday to make sure we’re okay with them.
“I feel like this is another win for you, don’t you?” Krys says.
Another win? I know what she means, but I’m not sure I’ve been winning at all. Maybe it’s a tie?
I start to shrug but catch myself. “Ask me once I’ve read what they’ve said.”
She nods, strands of hair bobbing around her freckled face. I love her face. It’s so open and honest. Everything she feels is right there and she doesn’t care who sees it.
“Krys?”
She raises her gaze to mine. “Yeah, Lexi-bug?”
I swallow. “Thank you. For everything.”
Her gaze softens, dampens. “Oh, sweetie. You don’t need to thank me.”
“I want you to know I appreciate what you’ve done for me.”
“I know you do.”
“I haven’t made it easy.”
“Sure you have. You’re my girl.” She gives me a hug and a kiss on the forehead. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I say, and blink back the tears that threaten.
“So,” she says after a few minutes. “You and Zack, huh?”
“Maybe,” I say. There’s no point in playing dumb with her.
“I like him better than Mike.”
“You never met Mike.”
“Exactly, the little bastard.”
I smile. “I like Zack too. He’s … different.”
“I don’t care if he’s from Mars, so long as he treats you right.”
“I threw myself at him. A few times,” I confide. “When we first found out Mike and the others got probation. I was so upset, I went over to Zack’s house and tried to have sex with him.”
My aunt’s eyes are wide as she stares at me. “Okay. And?”
“He said no. He said he wasn’t going to let me use him, and he wasn’t going to take advantage of me. Then he brought me home. He could have taken advantage of me at any time and he hasn’t.”
Krys’s shoulders sag in relief. “Good boy.” She looks at me. “We’ve never really talked about sex.”
I hold up my hands. “And we’re not going to now. Seriously, I do not need that kind of image of you and Jamal in my head.”
She laughs. “I don’t want that either, but for the record, I want you to be able to have physical relationships—healthy ones—during your life.”
“I know—I have all those books you bought me upstairs in my room.” Books on getting over sexual trauma, on building trust, on reclaiming my sexuality. “I have read some of them, you know.”
“Good.” She looks a little uncomfortable. “Have yo
u ever had an orgasm?”
My eyebrows shoot up to my forehead. “Uh, wow. Yes. Can we stop talking about this now?”
She nods. “Yeah. We can.” And, “You’re taking your birth control pills?”
“Yes. And I’m super anal about making sure I take them exactly like I’m supposed to.”
“Okay, good. Do you have any questions? Anything you want to know?”
I thought we were going to stop discussing this. But, as I look at her, I realize there is something I want to ask her. “What’s it like to have sex with someone you care about—who cares about you?”
She looks at me like I’ve broken her heart. She looks at me that way a lot. “It’s wonderful,” she says. “So much better than with a stranger.”
“Been with many strangers?” I ask with a smirk.
She gives me a pointed look. “You really want to know about my sex life?”
“Nope.” With that, I gather up my stuff. “I’m going to do my homework. Do you need help with dinner?”
“Nah, but thanks.” I’m almost out of the room when she calls after me, “Lex?”
I stop and look at her over my shoulder.
“Do you care about Zack?” she asks.
I smile at her. I know what she’s really asking me. “I’m not sure yet, but I think I could.” I turn without waiting for her reaction and leave the kitchen.
Alexa—
When the police arrested me, I blamed you. When I got expelled, I blamed you. When you told me how you felt that night at the coffee shop, I realized you were not the one to blame. I was. And when the judge gave me probation, I realized how lucky I am because what I did to you can’t be taken back.
I stop reading. The paper trembles in my fingers. “Someone must have written this for him,” I tell Elsa.
I’m on my bed, reading her the letters while we FaceTime. The ones from the other guys are half-assed like I expected, but at least they admitted to what they’d done and people will see it.
Of course, when the letters are published, no names will be attached, so maybe none of it matters anyway.
“Yeah, no way he knows half those words,” she agrees. “I’m sorry I ever introduced you to him.”
I shrug. “It’s fine. Not like he did any lasting damage.”
“You realize something like this would traumatize most people.”
“Yeah, well … I like to pick my traumas and my dramas.”
She laughs. “You’re a freak, and I love you. I just wish you could find someone like Maisie.”
I roll my eyes. “Sorry, I’m not a taco lover.”
“Yeah, well, sausage gives me heartburn. Speaking of sausage…”
Oh, God. Here it comes.
“… Are you seeing Zack tonight?”
She’s terrible. “Yeah. He’s coming over to work on some homework.” We were going to meet for coffee, but Jamal and Krys went into New York this morning to meet with the lawyers handling the case against Stall 313 and are staying in for dinner. I don’t really feel like leaving the house. Sometimes I don’t want to be around a lot of people.
“Be gentle with him,” she says.
If it were anyone else, I’d probably be uncomfortable, but not with El. “I promise not to break him.”
“I don’t think you could,” she responds. “He seems pretty tough.”
He does, but he’s also really sweet. I don’t tell her that because she’ll only torture me more. And … well, it’s private.
I spent almost a full year being used in front of an audience. My body wasn’t my own. I had no privacy at all. I ate with other people, slept in a room with others. I didn’t really even have privacy when I needed to use the bathroom. So, I don’t feel I need to share every thought I have with my friend.
Elsa frowns a little as she looks into the camera. “You’re not going to ask about me and Maisie, are you?”
I roll over onto my stomach on the bed. “Do you want me to?”
“Well, it would be nice if you pretended to be interested.” There’s an edge of hurt in her tone, and a twist to her mouth I’m not used to seeing.
“Hey, I’m interested. I figured you’d tell me what you want me to know.”
“I have. But, haven’t you noticed that I’m always the one asking about your life?”
My first instinct is to get defensive. It’s not my fault she’s fucking nosy. I could get upset, but it wouldn’t change the fact that she’s right. “I’m sorry you think I don’t care. Honestly? I’m jealous.”
Her already wide eyes widen even more. “Of what?”
“Of you and Maisie. Of the fact that you can have a normal relationship.”
“Normal? Have you met me?” She laughs. “I feel like such an ass. I never thought me dating might be a trigger for you.”
“Trigger might be too strong, but it’s definitely a reminder of the things that make me different.”
“Hey, you asked Zack out. That counts for something. You’re able to be alone with him and not freak out. That’s awesome, right?”
I guess so. But I’ve never freaked out around a guy—or guys. I’m not afraid of being raped or beaten. I mean, I’d fight it, but I’ve already survived it; I could survive it again.
“Sure,” I say. “He’s pretty nonthreatening though.”
Her expression turns incredulous. “Dude, he’s a frigging giant. He looks like he could crush my head with one hand.”
I laugh. “Not a skull as hard as yours.”
I glance at the clock. Zack will be here soon, and I have a little prep work to do before he arrives. I tell Elsa I need to get going, and we make plans to hang out tomorrow. I hang up and head for the shower.
When Zack arrives, I’m clean—I like to be clean—and dressed in a long sweater and leggings. I thought that was Krys’s style, but it’s grown on me. I’ve brushed my hair out and put on a little mascara and lip gloss.
He smiles when I open the door, and a weird warm feeling blossoms in my stomach. “Hi,” he says.
I blush. “Hi.” I stand back so he can step inside. God, he has to duck. I’ve never noticed before.
We do our homework at the kitchen table where we can spread out our books. Mostly we quiz each other for the upcoming history test.
He knows this stuff way better than I do.
“Do you have a photographic memory or something?” I ask when he answers one of my questions almost word for word with what’s in our text.
“No. I like history. I remember dates and names easily—like you remember book and movie quotes.”
I give him a dubious look. “I think it’s more than that.”
He raises an eyebrow. “I’m not going to apologize for being smart.”
“You shouldn’t,” I tell him. “It’s just not fair that you’re smart and pretty.”
Both brows go up this time. “Pretty?”
I shrug. “Handsome?” He makes a face that’s anything but. I laugh. “Cute, then?”
He leans his elbow on the table and props his chin on his palm. “Of the three, I think I prefer pretty. Thank you.”
I have a hard time holding his gaze. I’m not sure exactly what I see in his eyes. I do know that it’s now or never. “Zack, we’re friends, yeah?”
He frowns a little. “Yeah. Why?”
“If I asked you to help me with something, you would, right?”
“Sure. What do you need?”
I make myself look him in the eye. “I want to have sex with you.”
chapter twenty-two
Zack stares at me. I don’t know what to do, so I stare back. “You what?” he asks.
This is going to be harder than I thought. “I’ve never had sex with a nice guy. You’re nice.”
He closes his history book and shoves it in his backpack. “That’s not a good enough reason to sleep with someone.”
“What do you mean?” It seems like a pretty good one to me.
His eyes are almost black when he looks up
. “I’m not going to be your experiment, Lex. I like you, but I won’t let you use me to make yourself feel whatever it is you need to feel.”
Why can’t he be like other guys a tiny little bit? “You like me?”
His eyes narrow. “You know I do. I told you. Don’t pretend you don’t know. You wouldn’t try to play me like this if you didn’t know.”
He’s right. “Okay.”
“Okay? That’s all you’ve got to say? Want to at least throw in a shrug with that?” He zips up the backpack and stands. He’s going to leave, and I don’t know how to make him stay. If he were anyone else, I’d know what to do.
“I like you too!” I cry, jumping to my feet. My chair scrapes the floor. “And I don’t know what to do! I want … I want…”
“What?” he demands. “What do you want?”
He looks so intense, a little voice inside me says I should back off—run. But there’s a louder voice, and that’s the one I listen to.
“I want to feel what it’s like to be loved.” As soon as I say the words, I want to take them back. “I know you don’t love me, and I’m not asking you to. I mean, I don’t love you—I don’t know if I can love anybody, but…”
“Lex? Shut up.” He takes a step closer. “You don’t know anything.” Zack lifts his hand. “Can I touch you?” he asks.
Throat tight, I nod. But he doesn’t grab for one of the usual places. Instead, he touches my cheek, moves his hand back so his fingers can thread through my hair. “I don’t know how love feels,” he tells me. “But when I look at you, all I can think about is kissing you.”
The breath I’ve been holding escapes in a laugh, even though none of this is funny.
“I want to have sex with you,” he tells me and something warm unravels deep inside me—a little throb between my legs that I haven’t felt in long time. “But I think we should take this slowly.”
“I’m so tired of people thinking for me,” I tell him, jaw clenching.
“I’m not thinking for you.” He looks into my eyes. “I’m telling you what I think. We haven’t even kissed yet. Not really. We haven’t made out—that’s one of the best parts about being a teenager, you know. So I’m told.”
Is this not-so-experienced thing of his real or an act? He doesn’t seem to be faking it, but I can’t believe girls don’t throw themselves at him.
What Unbreakable Looks Like Page 22