26. Dottie
26
DOTTIE
Age Eighteen
So, as it turns out, sex is really, really fun.
I mean, I knew it would be. How could it not? Everything else Stephen and I have done up to this point has been fun.
The first time was over very quickly, but I expected that. Kira warned me after she did it with Danny Young last summer and he didn't tell her he was a virgin. She said she barely had her pants down before he was huffing and puffing, asking if it was good for her.
Lucky for me, Stephen had a little more tact than Danny Young. The second time was much longer, much better. I cried, like full on tears because it all just felt so good, so right. I love him so much, and I was so overwhelmed to finally share this experience with him.
The third and fourth time? My soul left the proverbial building. I transcended.
Sex is really, really, really fun.
We were able to stay out extra late last night because his parents expected us to be up on McKenna Mountain for Kira's prom after-party (supervised by her dads, of course) and my mom never bothered to ask me what we'd be doing after the prom. We walked back to his house this morning, and Mrs. Hudson had a full breakfast prepared for us.
"For the hangover I don't want to hear about," she'd said, and Stephen and I just gave each other knowing glances. I was feeling a little hungover, but not from alcohol.
We were drunk on each other.
We spent the day at his house, vegging out watching The Real Housewives of Orange County reruns with Delilah and Ivy. Keeks called earlier, wondering where we'd gone last night, and I promised to fill her in on all the details tomorrow over lunch.
Now, it's nearly nine o'clock at night and Stephen just walked me home. We have plans to meet back up in the field tonight, and I can't wait.
But for now, I wander into my house, my prom dress draped over my arm, expecting to be met with quiet. I'm going to sneak into the shower, freshen up, and then put on this really sexy pair of black lace panties I bought from Victoria's Secret. I just know they're going to drive Stephen insane when he sees them.
"Look who finally decided to come home," Mom sneers from the couch, and I nearly jump out of my skin. I did not expect her to be awake, especially not after I had passed the kitchen and clocked the empty bottle of wine next to the half-full bottle of gin. I place a hand to my chest and take a second to collect my breath before I answer.
"I was just next door, Mom." I say, and she rolls her eyes. Mom tolerates the Hudsons at best. I can never figure out why. They're the nicest people in town. But maybe that's just it. Maybe Mom is jealous.
"You've been gone since yesterday. You didn't call."
It's my turn to roll my eyes.
"We both know you only answer your phone when Mrs. Johnson calls. God forbid you miss Liquor World's weekly shipment of Tanqueray."
Mom is up like a flash. She's a blur as she crosses the room. I barely have time to react before she raises one hand, red nails sharpened to clawlike points and smacks it across my face. The force of it shocks me, knocking the wind out of me. My own hand flies to my cheek, grasping the spot where she struck me. I feel a gooey warmth, and I know she's drawn blood. I can't even turn my head to look at her. I'm stunned in disbelief. Daniela Hart is neglectful, a drunk. She's forgotten to feed me dinner, sent me to school in the same clothes two days in a row, forgotten me at the grocery store, but she has never, ever hit me.
I didn't think she ever cared enough to.
"You are a disgusting little brat. I know what you did. I saw you two sneaking around last night. I saw you walking back without your dress this morning. Nothing more than a slut. You're just like your father, whoring your body out all around town. And for what? Was it worth it? Will it be worth it when you end up pregnant and ruin that boy's life just like your father ruined mine? He has a future, Dottie Lynn. He's going to college, he's going to have a company to run, and what do you have? Just your pretty face, and even that will fade eventually. You have nothing, Dottie. You are nothing."
My eyes brim with tears as she continues her tirade. This? The yelling? Talking down to me? This part is nothing new. It's all things she's been telling me for years. My father ruined her life. I ruined her life. I'm stupid. Nothing more than a pretty face. Nothing to offer this world. That Stephen is too good for me, and she can't understand why he would want to date me. I'm bringing him down. He has a future, and I have nothing.
I've heard it all before. But this time?
This time, it stings. Harder than the red mark left by her hand on my cheek.
And all I do is stand there. I stand there and I take it. I take every ounce of her vitriol, every waft of her gin-soaked breath, every shove against my chest with her spindly fingers.
And then, I move. I drop the dress. I walk to my room and slam open the door. Mom follows, yelling and spitting as she goes. I turn my backpack upside down, emptying my notebooks and pens and watching them fall to the ground. Mom shoves me, and I ignore her. I throw open my drawers and start shoving clothes into my bag. Shirts, shorts, those stupid lacy panties I was going to put on. I move to the bed. Mom yells. I throw my phone charger and my journal into the bag. Mom shoves. Tears spill from eyes. My body aches. My soul splits. I swap out my prom heels for sneakers. Mom yells.
Worthless. Stupid. Not good enough. Never good enough. Should've left you and ran like I wanted to.
I storm out of my room. In the kitchen, I find a notepad and scribble something down. I rip off the paper and beeline towards the door. A bottle flies at my head but misses. Glass shatters against the wall, gin pouring down to the ground. I close the door behind me, and I don't look back.
I tuck the note into the mailbox at the end of the driveway at the house next door, and I walk.
I walk into town. I walk down Main Street. I walk past the "Welcome to Be utiful Fox Hole" sign.
I don't know where I'm walking to. I don't know when I'm going to stop.
All I know is that it's time to go.