11. CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 11
ARI
“ H old your horses!” I shout, piling the dishes into the Tupperware tub and clearing the table before wiping it down.
“You know I’m not a patient man, baby girl!” Joe, one of the regulars, whines as I pass by him to drop off the dirty dishes in the kitchen. I feel a swat to my ass as I do.
As with most of the males who come through these doors, Joe doesn’t care that I’m only seventeen and finishing my senior year in high school and he’s like, middle-age, or whatever. Because he’s a scuzz. They all are. All the men in this bar. Heck, all the men on this planet are. Well, all except …
Nope, don’t go there.
Heading back into the kitchen, I almost run into Lena. “Oh! Hey,” she says as she ties an apron around her waist, looking over my shoulder. “Is Joe behaving today?”
“Does he ever?”
Lena got me a job at Fitz’s Bar & Pub a few months after I was released from foster care and placed back into the custody of her and Axel. I used to only tag along on her shifts, but once I got my driver’s license, I began accepting as many shifts as they had available for me. Anything to get me out of that house.
So, most days after school I come right here. It’s in a terrible part of the city and I have to take the parkway to the highway to the Inner Loop to get here.
Axel fixed up the old Accord for me to drive. I knew enough to be suspicious when he did so, and with good reason—he enjoys the extra income I bring in. After every shift, Axel makes me give him my tip money. He says I can keep the paycheck with the measly hourly wage I get for waiting tables, but the tip money he takes “to contribute to all the food, electric, water and other resources I consume.” Asshole .
Whatever. I learned to pull a portion out and stick it in my sock before I get home and he goes digging through my purse. My portion goes into a slit in the mattress. It’s not like it stockpiles. I use it for clothes and makeup, and gas and a phone plan. But, still, it’s more than what I get in my weekly paycheck.
I put Joe’s order in with the line cook, then turn to Lena. “He’s your problem, now.” I nod in the direction of the counter where Joe’s sitting as I untie my apron.
“You’re leaving?”
“I told you this morning I’m having dinner with Sophie.”
“Oh, right! I forgot. OK, then. I’ll see you at home later?”
“Yep.” I slide my arm through the straps of my purse and nestle it under my elbow, then head outside. Crossing the street, I keep my head down and trek the two blocks to the hole-in-the- wall restaurant where I’m meeting my former foster sister. Most parents wouldn’t let their teen walk around this part of the city alone, especially when it’s approaching dark.
As soon as I walk in, the smell of grease, fried food, and filth hits my nostrils, making my mouth water. “God, I love that smell,” I say, sliding into a booth across from Sophie.
“You and me both, sister. You and me both.” She raises her hand up and greets me with a high-five.
Sophie is everything I wish I could be: confident, funny, and manages to navigate social situations with zero awkwardness. She’s also extremely overweight. Her big boobs are squished against the table we’re sitting at, and the buttons on her shirt are pulled taut, creating little openings between them. Her glossy raven hair is styled in two side buns, and black framed glasses are perched on her nose. Silver hoops dangle from each earlobe with a trail of silver studs bolting up each side of the cartilage.
“So, what’s new?” She rests her thick forearms on the sticky table.
I let out a puff of air through my cheeks. “Not much. This week I haven’t had as many shifts at the pub, which blows. But at least I’m in school all day and therefore out of the house.”
“So, I take it Axel hasn’t dropped dead yet?”
“I wouldn’t be so lucky.”
Sophie knows everything about me. We met when I began living with the Millers, in foster care, where I stayed for about five months. She’s still living with them. She was also there when I arrived.
Sophie was given up for adoption as a toddler and—since most people who want to adopt are looking for babies—bounced around from one foster family to another. Before arriving at the Millers’ home, she lived with a family from about six to ten years old but was removed after a social worker found out she was experiencing horrific abuse at the hands of her foster father.
It was the one type of abuse I never experienced.
I’ve told her everything about Axel and Lena. And Ethan. We were in group therapy together, so a lot of it came out then. But also, we instantly connected, so we talked privately as well.
And, in turn, Sophie confided in me some of her experiences, which left me sobbing and retching, and thankful I’ve only ever been pummeled by Axel and not molested or raped. She told me the therapists said she uses food as a healing mechanism, which makes perfect sense. I mean, has a milkshake ever let you down?
Speaking of which …
“What can I get you?” an elderly waitress with too much pep in her step asks as she approaches our table and takes a pencil out from behind her ear.
“I’ll take a garbage plate with home fries, mac salad and burgers, please.” I hand her my menu, which I didn’t even have to open since we come here all the time. “Oh, and the hot sauce on the side.”
“Got it.” The woman turns to Sophie. “And for you, dear?”
“Same, but with hot dogs, and you just pour my hot sauce all over everything.”
The waitress chuckles, taking Sophie’s menu. “You got it. Be up in a few.”
She walks away and my friend turns back to me as I start chatting. “What’s up with you? How are Meg and Larry?”
“Meg and Lars are great,” she says, referring to the Millers, then takes a sip of soda that’s sitting in front of her in a paper cup. “We got a new recruit this week. A male.”
I frown. A new “recruit” is another person needing foster care. It’s bittersweet because usually—like us—that person is in a bad situation, but the silver lining is they are going into a great home, even if it’s only temporary. But they could end up like Sophie, who is a pretty much a permanent fixture in the Miller household.
“What’s his ’sitch?” I grab Sophie’s drink and steal a sip.
She teeters her head this way and that. “Better than my history, worse than yours.”
“Ugh.” I place the soda on the table, bite my bottom lip, and ask, “Is he cute?” Sophie gawks. “What?” I ask.
“That’s disgusting, he’s my foster brother.”
“Exactly! He’s not blood related. You may as well be neighbors.”
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I wish I could suck them back in. Sophie jumps right on it. “Speaking of which … heard anything from him?”
I sit back in the booth and huff. “Of course not, Sophie. It’s been almost a year. There’s nothing to hear. He’s out living his life.”
“What about Fonz? I thought he kept in touch with Ethan.”
Even hearing his name makes breathing hard. I am quiet, trying to decide if I want to entertain my memories anymore.
As per his mom’s wishes, I waited until I knew Ethan and his family would be gone before moving back in with Lena and Axel. New renters—an elderly couple—had already moved in and replaced them. Of course, the first thing I did when I got home was run down to Fonz’s house, where he and his whole family squished me up in one big hug, and there were tears. Fonz filled me in on how Ethan and his parents moved. He pulled out his phone to call Ethan and tell him I was home, but I stopped him.
I forbid him from ever telling Ethan I came back. It wasn’t easy, because of their friendship, but I think even Fonz knew it was better for Ethan if he remained in the dark.
Looking back up at Sophie, I prop my elbow up on the greasy table in front of me and wave my hand, as if I’m actually trying to wipe away the memories. “It’s in the past.” The waitress heads our way with our dinners. “Besides, we’re here to talk about you and that guy who sits behind you in calculus. Branden? Brenden?”
“Ugh, Brenden!” Sophie says dramatically, smashing her head on the table obnoxiously right before the waitress arrives.
“Careful, sweetheart. Don’t wanna hurt yourself,” the woman says as she deposits our plates.
“Thanks, but it’s too late. My heart hurts.”
After having dinner with Sophie, the Millers pick her up—giving me hugs and reminding me I have a place with them anytime I want to come back, legalities be damned—and I drive myself home. Axel is already there, and as soon as I get in the door, he grabs my purse and pulls my wallet out, stealing what he thinks are all the tips I’ve gotten today. “That all?” He fans out a few bills in his hand. “You better start being a little nicer to the customers. Or start showing some more ass. Somethin.’ These tips are pathetic.”
As usual, I say nothing.
Grabbing a pair of sweats, a sports bra, and a hoodie from my dresser, I change quickly in the bathroom before heading back into the living room. Axel gives me a look from his seat on the couch. “Little late for a run, don’t you think?”
Bending down to pull on my running shoes without looking at him, I hear the couch creak as Axel pushes off it. The familiar pull on my scalp burns as he grabs a fistful of my hair and tugs me up to a standing position, his face in mine, the alcohol on his breath invading my nostrils. “Did you hear me, girl?”
I grit my teeth and bite out a “Yes.”
He tightens his grip on my hair. “Yes, what?”
“Yes, sir.”
He lets me go with a shove.
Stepping outside, I slide earbuds in my ears. Axel knows I have a phone now, and although this one is password protected, I still delete all calls and text messages on it.
I kick my legs back to stretch out my quads a little, then lunge left and right before taking off. It’s dark, and the country road is barely lit. With the music pulsing through my ears, I can’t hear any approaching cars. It’s the best adrenaline rush. Every time a car whizzes past me, swerving because the driver didn’t see me, and a gust of air swooshes my hair around me, I grow a little braver.
I’m not sure how far I run or for how long, but eventually I circle back and Fonz’s house comes into view, and I decide to give my friend a visit. He opted to go to community college after high school, taking night classes so he can help his dad on the fields during the day.
I text him, slowing my run to a jog, then a walk, and I climb his front steps.
Coming in for a landing!
I can hear the twins fighting inside. They’re ten now and still go at it like cats and dogs. I knock lightly and am surprised when Fonz pulls the door open. “Why the face?” he asks.
“I’m just surprised you could hear me knock over all the commotion inside.”
Fonz steps aside to let me in. “Eh, I guess I’m just used to it.” When we get to his room, I plop down on his bed and lay back.
“So, what’s new, gurrrrl?” he drawls, belly-flopping next to me, kicking his feet up behind him. Fonz let his hair grow out even shaggier so he can now tuck it behind his ears.
“Absolutely nothing,” I tell him honestly, propping my arms behind my head while Fonz rests his chin on his fists. “How’s farm life?”
He chuckles. “Hard. It’s friggin’ hard, Ari. I never knew my dad worked so hard!” We both laugh, but I know he’s happy. He tells me how he’s learning to operate the big machinery. Then I fill him in on the latest at school and how Chloe and her team of bitches aren’t in too many of my classes this semester and therefore leave me alone.
In the midst of rehashing my dinner with Sophie, his phone buzzes on the nightstand next to us. I see the name “E-Man” flash across the screen and my stomach constricts.
“Sorry,” Fonz mutters. “I’ll send him a quick text to let him know I’ll call later.”
I’m quiet for a minute. “Sorry you always have to lie to him.”
Fonz shakes his head while typing out a text. “It’s better this way. He’s doing his thing. I’m actually going to visit him in two weekends. I want to see him before he goes to basic.”
“Basic?”
“Yeah, basic training … Oh, shit! I must not have told you. Ethan enlisted in the Army.”
“He what?!” I shoot up. “Why? Why would he do that?”
Fonz sits up next to me. “Nah, it’s a good situation. He doesn’t really like college. He only signed up again this semester to keep his parents happy. And, well, to stay near Jules. Anyway, with the Army, he can still pursue a degree, which the government will pay for. And his parents will be off his back. He’s gonna go for IT or graphics or something like that.”
Fonz must sense the panic rolling off me. “It’s not like we’re in a war, right now, Ari. This is a good deal.”
I nod, swallowing. “What about Jules?” I feel like a child for asking about Ethan’s girlfriend but, dammit, I want to know.
“They’re gonna do long distance. He really likes her.”
I smile although it kills me. “That’s nice.”
“Wanna see a picture?” Just shove my heart in a mulcher, why don’t you?
He unlocks his phone and scrolls a bit. “Here.” Fonz leans over so I can see the screen. It’s a selfie of Fonz, Ethan, and a brunette.
My eyes first zero in on Ethan. I take the phone and zoom in. “Wow.” His hair is cropped short to his head, and he’s grown in stature, with shoulders that look massive as his arms are slung around Fonz and Jules. But it’s his face that really gets me. He’s smiling from ear to ear, and it definitely reaches his eyes. He looks happy.
And that miserable rotten bitch inside me feels a pang of jealousy—and then immediate guilt. This is what I want. For him to be happy.
Fonz clears his throat. “Yeah, our boy’s really growing up.”
I zoom in on the girl they’re with. She’s pretty. Shoulder-length brown hair frames a heart-shaped face, and a cute, black dress hugs her body. I hand the phone back over to Fonz. “How long did you say they’ve been together?”
“Uh, they started dating right after he got there. So, almost a year now?”
I nod and swallow down my jealousy. Then I change the freaking subject. “What about you? How come I never see any ladies coming over here, huh?” I bump his shoulder with mine.
He chuckles. “Eh, guess I haven’t really found anyone who tickles my fancy.” I laugh at that old adage. “And you? You’re still hanging out with Sean?” he asks with disdain.
“Fonz, you know I’m not sleeping with him.”
“Oh, I know, because he tells the whole town what he does and doesn’t do and with whom.”
Several months ago, Sean had come into the pub while I was working. I was surprised he even remembered me. Turns out, after graduation he also enrolled in community college. He sat and chatted me up until closing time so I wouldn’t have to leave the bar alone. When we got to my car, he kept talking, so we sat inside since it was cool out—me in the driver’s seat, him on the passenger side. He lit a joint, but I told him I don’t drink or smoke—not after how I’d seen it affect Axel.
“You know, Ari, you can always call me.” Sean’s eyes were glazed from the pot. “Here, let me text you my number.”
I rattled off my number and a moment later my phone pinged. “That’s me. Call me sometime, yeah? We can hang out, or something …”
I nodded.
Suddenly, Sean reached a hand out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I always thought your red hair was sexy as hell.”
While I remained still, Sean’s hand cupped my face and his thumb pulled my lower lip down until it flipped back up. He looked at my mouth and tried to pull me closer, but I was rigid. I knew what he wanted, but I was scared. The only person I had ever kissed was Ethan. And he was gentle, and kind, and thoughtful … and I didn’t deserve him. After all, I’d almost ruined his life. A life he was out living to its fullest.
With one hand still around my neck, Sean’s other hand came up to play with the end of my ponytail resting against my chest. I leaned in just the tiniest bit, and he took it as the invitation it was, pulling my face to his until our lips met. It was similar, at first, to the kiss I shared with Ethan. Dry outer lips moving against one another, and then the introduction of heat and wetness as it deepened. But where Ethan’s kiss turned hungry and full of longing, Sean’s went savage. Cupping my face with both hands, he forced his tongue past my lips and invaded my mouth, then pulled my tongue into his with forceful suction. It didn’t hurt, but it was rough. Pulling back just a fraction, Sean pulled my bottom lip between his teeth and tugged, then released it with a little chuckle when I whimpered.
“Yeah, I’m really good with my mouth,” he breathed against my lips, then dove back in, pushing and pulling my lips and tongue with his, and at some point I started reciprocating. It was an intoxicating dance—one I was doing with my mouth and my heart. I couldn’t deny the tingling in my belly and limbs and how powerful it felt knowing I made him crazed with want.
And he did want me. It was clear.
But my heart also cracked right down the middle as I erased Ethan’s kiss from my lips. He was no longer the last—the only—boy I had kissed. I was washing it away with every swipe of my tongue against Sean’s and every brush of his lips to mine.
While warring with myself and my feelings, Sean’s hand trailed down my face to my neck and landed on my breast. He roughly groped it, digging his nails into my bra as he groaned into my mouth and practically straddled the seat to get closer to me.
“Sean, wait.” I put a hand on his chest and pulled my face away, but he just came right back at me. He devoured my mouth and slid his hand to my hip and tried to pull me onto him.
“Sean.” I gave him a lame push, and to his credit, he stopped.
“Sorry,” he murmured against my lips. “Shit. Sorry. It’s just … damn.” He released my face but slid his other hand around to clasp mine in my lap. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”
I looked at him quizzically. “You have?”
“You don’t believe me? What’s this tell you?” He gestured to his groin where I saw a bulge then quickly looked away. “Don’t be embarrassed.” He adjusted himself. “I just fucking want you. Sorry. Didn’t mean to pressure you.” Sean leaned over, gave me a peck, and ran his thumb along my lower lip one last time. “Until next time.”
After he exited, I sat there for a while thinking about what had just happened, feeling conflicted. I couldn’t ignore the fact that, if I had been willing, he would have had sex with me right there in my car, in the parking lot, while he was stoned. And that made him an ass. But he was also nice, and wanted me.
And no one ever wants me.
I ended up texting him days later, and our make-out sessions continued before they progressed to “fooling around.” To this day, I still haven’t had sex with him, to which he lets me know that he needs to have sex with other people since I am “leaving him hanging” all the time. And, because I am desperate and need attention—and also a reason to be away from the house and Axel—I allow this screwed up “relationship” with him to continue.
“Earth to Ari!” Fonz’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts.
“Oops! Sorry, got stuck on another planet for a minute there.” I shake my head to clear it. “But I really need to go. It’s late, and I still have homework to finish up.”
“Yep, no problem.” Fonz climbs off the bed. “Come around more often, OK? I’d come to you, but that asshat you live with is kinda scary.”
“Yeah, believe me, I know.”
Fonz pulls me into a hug. “You know I love you, right?”
“Uh, yeah, Fonz. I know that.”
“And, you know that I’ll kill Sean if he hurts you or pressures you, or in any other way upsets you, right? I mean, it’s what Ethan would want me to do, and I feel like I have to honor his wishes since he’s going to be serving our country and everything.”
That makes my heart tighten into a teeny tiny knot and then implode. I still love my guys, no matter how near or far. “Yeah, I know.”
He lets go, but before I can leave he slings an arm around my shoulder and pulls out his phone. “Wait, we didn’t take a selfie!”
“Ugh. What’s with you and selfies?”
“I like to document the good times with my friends, is that a crime?” He holds the phone up. “Now smile, you bitch.”
That makes me bark out a laugh at the exact moment he snaps the photo.