13. CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 13
ARI
“ W hat’s the deal?” Sean mumbles into my neck before pulling a mouthful of skin between his lips and sucking on it. “This is my birthday present to you.”
“My birthday was weeks ago,” I reply as he licks and sucks his way down my neck and lands his mouth at the top of my bra, where the little cleavage I have is sticking out.
We’re lying on my bed, still in the corner of the living room in Axel and Lena’s house. Sean has coaxed my shirt off, and my pants, and I lay beneath him in just my bra and underwear while he is completely naked.
He says he wants to be my first. That he wants to show me he cares about me, and to be able to stop sleeping with other girls so we can be together. I want that, too, but I’m not sure I’m ready.
And I’m not sure that matters to Sean, who has his hand sliding beneath my underwear. “Baby girl, it’s not like I haven’t explored all of you already.” He kisses his way down my sternum to my stomach. He’s right. We’ve done everything else there is to do besides sex. Still, being in this situation, it doesn’t feel the way I think it should.
I can’t help but think back to the time Ethan told me how my first kiss should be. And then how my actual first kiss—with him—was. Full of excitement and butterflies and want, and how I couldn’t erase the smile from my face for days afterward.
This is much different, although I can’t deny the familiar tingling in my traitorous body. How can my hips involuntarily press into Sean’s touch while my head and heart are begging for him to stop?
Kneeling between my legs, Sean attempts to pull my underwear off, but I grab his wrists. “Sean, wait. I don’t know if I’m ready.”
“Sure you are, Ari.” He kisses the inside of my thigh. “I’ve been getting you ready for this. Hasn’t it all felt good so far?” He kisses my other thigh.
I remain quiet.
He tries to pull my underwear down, and again, I stop him. “Sean, no.”
He scoffs, pushes away from me, and sits on the edge of the bed, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. “Christ, Ari. What are we doing? I thought you wanted this. I thought you wanted me. All of me!”
“I do,” I say, sitting up.
“Well, you sure aren’t acting like it.” He lets out a long breath, then moves to stand. “I guess I’ll just see you around. You let me know if you’re ever done playing games and you really want me, because I’m done being hurt by you.”
I shoot my hand out and grab his forearm before he can get up. “Wait. What?”
Sean raises his arm, and my hand falls away as he cups the side of my face. “I’ve told you all along how much I want you. I mean, look!” With his other hand he strokes his erection. “I am in physical pain over here with how much I want you.”
I look in his eyes and then away.
“But”—he drops his hand and caresses my thigh—“if you don’t want to, I won’t force you. But then I gotta walk away. Because I can’t do this anymore.”
I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Confusion seeps in.
“What if we just wait until I move out in a few weeks? I just hate it here and I don’t want the memory of our first time ruined by all my memories in this house.”
Sean sighs and squeezes my thigh. “I get it, baby girl. But, like I said, you’re killing me here.” He slides his hand up my thigh. “Besides, I’ll wipe out all those bad memories you have in this house. Just give me the chance.”
Running his hand up over my pelvis and hip, he curls his fingers over the waistband of my underwear, then looks up at me. “What do you say?”
I swallow, and do my best to turn off my brain. Then nod.
He peels my underwear down my legs and crawls on top of me, reaching behind me to unclasp my bra, yanking it off and tossing it aside with a chuckle. His mouth comes down harshly on mine, and I hope he doesn’t intend to be that rough the whole time.
Sean’s hands grope my exposed boobs that are squished between us. “You may not have much here, but what you’ve got is so soft.”
I close my eyes and try to enjoy what’s happening.
Sean settles himself between my legs, then trails a hand down to feel me. “Relax,” he says in my ear. “You have to be ready for me or it’s not going to feel good. Here, this will help.” He brings his hand up to his mouth and spits into it, then smears it at my entrance.
“Did you go on the pill like I told you to?” He grabs himself while looking down between us.
“Mmhmm,” I nod beneath him.
“Good girl.” Then I feel him start to sink in and I regret everything that led to this moment—kissing Sean, seeking his attention. I even regret kissing Ethan because all it did was make me want to feel again the way I felt with him—and I know I never will.
So, I do the only thing I can think of.
I stretch my arms out to my sides and grab handfuls of the sheets. With my eyes closed, I imagine the sting I feel is the wheat grass whipping my limbs. I imagine Sean’s breath against my neck as the wind caressing my face. And, to drown out the sound of his grunts and pants, I imagine the sound of my feet hitting the ground while a country song filters through my earbuds.
And until this is over, in my mind, I run.
***
“Woohoo!” Sophie cheers as we jump up and down like kids on Christmas morning in the tiny, dark living room of our tiny, dark apartment. “I can’t believe we are actually doing this!”
“I know!” I squeal as we bounce into each other for a hug.
“God, I never thought Meg and Lars would go for this,” Sophie confesses. “They are so overprotective. They totally wanted you to just move back into their house, but I convinced them this was best for us, to learn responsibility and shit.”
Fanning ourselves, we look around at the place that is completely ours. Well, technically it’s not because we rent, but it’s ours for now. It’s hot as holy hell on fire along the equator right next to the sun, and seeing as our dingy little apartment doesn’t have any air conditioning, it’s nearly suffocating in here, even with all the tiny windows open.
I’m wearing a sports bra and athletic shorts rolled up while Sophie is wearing a pair of capri jeans—she says she doesn’t wear shorts due to chub rub —and a tank top that hugs her love handles and stomach rolls. We are both sweaty from unpacking.
A knock at the door has us shrieking and grabbing ahold of each other’s sticky shoulders. “Are you expecting someone?” Sophie asks me.
“Yes, Fonz.”
Another knock at the door causes us to jump, again. “Gah!” we both scream.
“Ari? Sophie? Is that you?” We hear a familiar voice from the other side of the door.
“Uh, Yes?” Sophie responds. “Who are you?”
“The fucking Boogieman!” the voice replies. “It’s Fonz. Who the hell else would it be? Will you let me in before someone steals me out here? It’s not exactly Sesame Street on this side of the city.”
I pull the door open before he even finishes, grab his arm, and drag him inside before I slam the door, press the lock button on the doorknob, click the deadbolt, and slide the chain over.
“Holy shit, it’s hotter than the reptile building at the zoo in here.” He practically gags as he pulls his shirt away from his body dramatically. “It’s like I instantly started sweating the second I stepped inside. How is that possible?”
“Fonz!” Sophie throws her arms up in greeting.
“Soph!” He gathers her up in his lanky arms that barely fit around her round body. “Gah! It’s way too hot for hugs.”
When they release each other, Fonz comes to stand next to me, leaning over and kissing my temple. “Wow.” He looks around. “This place is a real dump.”
“Isn’t it, though?” Sophie says, bouncing on the balls of her feet, rubbing her hands in front of her.
I didn’t tell Axel or Lena I was leaving. I just packed up my clothes, makeup, and the few other personal items I had at the house and threw them in the back of Sophie’s car when she picked me up. I didn’t dare take the Accord. Besides, it’s on Axel’s insurance and I can’t afford my own right now. But the apartment is close enough to the pub that I can walk to work, and in the winter I’ll take an Uber.
“I’m surprised your boyfriend isn’t here.” Fonz looks at me.
“I didn’t think you and Sean would play too nicely together since the last time you saw him you broke his nose,” I reply.
“What?!” Sophie chokes on a sip of the soda she just cracked open.
Fonz is shaking his head and wagging a finger in front of me. “Not broken. Just bloody.”
“It was very bloody.”
“Yeah.” He smiles. “There was definitely a lot of blood. I didn’t know the face produced so much. That was the first time I ever punched somebody in the face.”
“Oh, well, you did a good job.”
“Thank you.” Fonz gives a small dip of his head.
“Wait. Back the bus up.” Sophie comes to stand next to me, wiping soda from her mouth with the back of her hand. “What did I miss?”
“Oh, just that after Fonz coaxed me into telling him about how I lost my virginity to Sean in a less-than-storybook kinda way—”
“I saw you crying your eyes out as you were running down the road. Back and forth in front of my house. For, like, hours.”
“Whatever. Anyway, the next time Sean stopped over, Fonz came barreling down the street and lunged his fist at the guy like Vincent Gambini …” I pause and point a finger at Fonz, eyebrows raised.
“ My Cousin Vinny ,” he answers my silent question. We high-five, and I continue.
“The next thing I know, Sean is holding his face while a geyser of blood shoots from his nose.”
Fonz and I look at each other, nodding in agreement that I got the story right. We look at Sophie when we realize she’s silent.
“Soooo …” Her eyes ping-pong between us, then land on me. “Are you and Sean still, like, whatever you are?”
I answer, but can’t look at Fonz when I do. “Yeah.”
“And you two”—she waves a hand between me and Fonz—“are still cool? Like you’re not mad he hit your boy toy?”
I laugh. “No, of course not!” I throw my arms around Fonz’s neck, getting on my tippy toes to do so. “I love this big lug.” Not wanting Sophie to feel left out, I reach over and grab the front of her shirt and pull her into our hug. “And I love you, too!”
“Oh God, I can’t!” cries Fonz as he turns his head and tries to breathe. “It’s too goddamn hot for a group hug!”
Sophie and I burst out laughing as we tighten our hold on my oldest friend.
Well, not oldest …
***
I’m almost back to the apartment after working a night at the pub. Since I’m no longer a minor, I’m legally allowed to work behind the bar instead of just waiting tables. The street is illuminated not only by streetlamps, but also by a sketchy bar here or there, or a random bodega. I used to be scared as shit walking home from work in the dark on these streets, but I’ve learned to keep my head down, ignore any catcalling that might come from a random drunk, and be ready to run at any minute.
Sophie is having dinner at the Millers’ tonight and probably isn’t back yet. It’s been two weeks since we moved in, and they made it clear they miss her. Well, they miss us , actually. They begged me to come, too, but I had to work.
I step off the sidewalk to cross the street one last time and pause as a Mitchell & Sons truck slowly passes by, then make my way to the other side and up the walk to my building, dragging myself up the stairs and around the corner, and freeze.
He’s leaning his back against the wall, one leg bent and a boot resting flat against the brick wall. His head is down but I know exactly who it is. I’ve memorized his size and stature. That silhouette.
Stopping in my tracks, I suck in a gulp of air. I know he knows I’m here. He’s leaving a moment of silence hanging between us just to intimidate me.
Slowly, he raises his head up, raking his eyes up my exposed legs, my jean shorts, my torso and chest, and landing them on my eyes as his lips curl into an evil smile. “What? No greeting for your Papa?”
There’s no use in running since he obviously knows where I live, so I square my shoulders and decide to give him the bravest version of myself.
Digging my keys out of my purse, I pass him and begin unlocking the door he’s leaning beside. First the deadbolt, then the doorknob. He sticks a boot out before I can slam the door in his face, so I just move further into the room, intentionally not discarding my purse. Since I didn’t expect Axel to show up, I didn’t hide any of my tips.
“This place sucks,” he says with a laugh. I just wrap my arms around my middle and stare at the floor. “So, you got nothin’ to say to me? You just up and leave. No goodbye. No ‘fuck off.’ Just … pack your things and go?”
Exhausted from my day, and life in general, I let out a sigh. “Axel, what do you want?”
“ Axel .” He says his name as though it tastes like poison. “When did you stop calling me Papa?”
“Maybe when I got old enough to realize that a real dad would never treat me the way you do.”
I see his jaw click. “How’s that? Keep a roof over your head? Keep you fed? Keep you in line when you act out? That’s not what a real father does?”
I swallow and draw up some courage. “By ‘keep me in line,’ do you mean beat the shit out of me? Break my tooth? Fracture my bones? Try to strangle me?”
“Maybe if you hadn’t been such a brat I wouldn’t have had to be so strict. And if you weren’t such a slut, running around with the pathetic neighbor boy when you were barely a teenager—”
“Go fuck yourself, Axel!” The words are out of my mouth before I even realize it, and I stop my hand from flying up to cover my mouth, trying to hide my shock and fear.
“Careful, girl.” He starts to circle, then takes a step closer, and another, until he’s standing right in front of me. “How can you afford an apartment like this, anyway? You getting better tips these days?” He grabs the purse strap off my shoulder and yanks it down my arm, pulling it away from me and finding my wallet, taking all the cash out. “Not too shabby. You must be getting better at your job. Or are you getting friendlier with the customers?”
He gives me another look from head to foot as he folds the bills and stuffs them in his back pocket, discarding my wallet and purse. “You know, Arlene, you may think you’re a big girl, all grown up now, but you still belong to me. You know that, right?”
It’s all I can do to try and tame the tremors racking through my body, but he can still see me shaking. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Quickly, he grabs my upper arm and pulls me toward him as his other hand swings out and backhands me across the face so hard that, as he lets me go, I stumble to the side and fall into the end table, knocking over a secondhand lamp Sophie purchased and causing it to crash to the ground.
I push up, but before I can stand, Axel kicks my feet out from under me and I go falling to the floor. My hands and knees land on the broken glass and ceramic of the destroyed lamp. With his boot, he pushes my hip so I roll over onto my back, and he presses his foot down on my stomach with just enough force to keep me in place. His hands find his belt buckle and he starts to unfasten it.
Fear crawls up my arms and legs and settles in my spine as I try to crawl away, but he only presses his foot down harder. “Axel, what are you doing?”
“What do you think I’m doing?” He pulls the end of the black leather strap through the metal, then—once his belt is unbuckled—he pops open the button of his jeans and unzips his pants.
I struggle against his foot, to no avail. Turning my head so I don’t have to see Axel take himself in his hand, I hear him start whistling.
And wetness spreads on my clothing.
I look up to see him taking a piss all over me. He turns and slowly walks along the length of the couch, making sure to mark his territory there, too. Then he finishes by leaving a huge wet spot on the carpet.
After he tucks himself back into his pants and makes a show of zipping and buttoning them, he fastens his buckle and, adjusting his junk, stops whistling and goes to walk past me. He stops right next to my face, then turns to hover over me as I cower on the floor, drenched in his piss.
“Until next time, Arlene,” he says, blowing me a kiss and slowly making his way out the door. I jump up, run and throw myself at it, quickly locking all three locks, then turn around and slide all the way to the floor, hugging my knees to my chest.
I don’t cry. But I do shake. I shake with fear, rage and shame, knowing I can’t get away from him. I can’t have anything of my own. I’m not safe anywhere.