Chapter 7
MARIETTA
By the time Celia and Betz show up two weeks later to help me move, I’m already packed.
I sublet my apartment with all the furniture. It’s better this way, so my parents don’t find out what I’ve done. They’re not footing the bill. I got scholarships to pay my tuition and worked all summer to pay for my apartment.
But they would panic if they mailed me a birthday card that got returned. I’m definitely not telling them I’m moving in with a motorcycle club.
I thought about this after I got a few texts from Merrick asking about my family. When I first saw his name on my phone, explaining he got my number from the Caller ID at the bar, my heart swelled up all hopeful.
But he just wanted to ask where my parents lived and if I had brothers or sisters.
I said they all lived clear across the country in Utah and didn’t have the money to visit. I would go to see them at Christmas.
For a hot second, I wondered if he was going to recruit my baby sister for the Wild Hair. I don’t know how anything works. But when I told Symphony about the texts, she figured they wanted to know if anybody was going to come after them for taking advantage of me.
She’s worried about that, too.
I think getting taken advantage of is the point. If they have people following me around to protect my cherry, they aren’t going to hurt me. I belong to them.
I’m not worried. I’ll help around the clubhouse, which will be easier than the coffee shop I worked in all summer. The Wild Hair can’t be any crankier than Miami residents without their morning brew.
When I hear the roar of motorcycles, I peer out of my window. It’s not just Betz and Celia in a pickup truck, but four members of the Wild Hair on their bikes.
What a sendoff! I hug a pillow to my chest. This is amazing!
I watch as they pull off their helmets, but Merrick isn’t with them. It makes sense. The bar opens in an hour. He has to be there.
A few of my neighbors peer through their windows as I head onto the sidewalk to the parking lot. “Over here!” I call, waving at the Wild Hair.
Betz steps out, looking like I remembered from the bar opening, short and wiry at sixty. She’s Low Joe’s ol’ lady, and I hope she doesn’t know about how I hung on him and Chain that first night I went to the bar. She might be the jealous type. Her sour expression suggests she’s not easy to please.
Her gray hair is tucked into a red bandanna. She wears a black denim jacket with the Wild Hair logo on the back. On the front is a patch that says, “Property” on one side and “Low Joe” on the other. I have no idea if she always wears that or if she’s making a point to me.
Too Fast Freddy’s ol’ lady Celia comes around the front. She doesn’t wear any Wild Hair gear, just jeans and a super tight leopard print top. Her bottle-blonde hair conjures Marilyn Monroe. “Let’s get this move over with,” she says. “Then we’ll get drunk.”
Not gonna be hard with me.
“I have it all boxed up and easy,” I say. “It’s not much.”
Betz and Celia come inside to check it out.
“Noice,” Celia says. “You sure you want to live at the shack? You probably get good internet here. Ours always cuts out when I’m watching Love Island.”
“I’m sure,” I say, although watching Betz glare at me, I’m less certain than I was. “The furniture is all staying. I leased it.”
“Smart girl,” Celia says. “Always have your own money, that’s what I say.”
“You don’t say shit,” Betz says. She stands in the doorway to yell outside, “Guys, get your asses in here and move these boxes.” Her gaze pierces me. “Your cherry is causing a lot of talk at the clubhouse.”
“Is it?” I’m guessing she doesn’t like that I’m coming. I didn’t think about how I might be living with someone who considers me a threat.
Celia drapes an arm around me. “Don’t listen to Betz. She’s mad her man threw his hat in the ring for your cherry when hers popped a half-century ago.”
“Fuck you, Celia,” Betz says, stepping aside as several members of the Wild Hair come in.
They all look me up and down as they pick up boxes. I try not to be shy. One of them might be the one I choose.
Hoss shows off by picking up three boxes, barely able to see over the top.
“Careful,” I tell him. “The bottom one’s fragile.”
Betz rolls her eyes. “Fragile shit doesn’t last with the Wild Hair.”
I think she’s talking about me.
Too Fast Freddy comes in, making a point to squeeze Celia’s ass, in case she’s mad like Betz. “You wanna break in the cherry’s bathroom?”
Celia giggles. “You bet I do.”
I open my mouth to protest since I’ve already cleaned the place for the new girl, but Betz sees me. “I wouldn’t,” she says. “Don’t get in the way of a Wild Hair getting his dick wet.”
The pair scurries toward the bathroom.
Great. Okay.
Low Joe enters and takes a box, not making eye contact and hurrying back out.
“I’ll help,” I say, heading for a box of bedding.
Betz takes my arm. “Let the men do it. We have our roles, and we don’t do their shit. We have enough of ours.”
Okay. I stand and watch as the men come in and out, taking my suitcases and plastic bins and boxes. It doesn’t take fifteen minutes to be done, but by then, Celia and Freddy have emerged from the bathroom.
“Such pretty stuff,” Celia says, holding one of the seashell soaps from a dish in the bathroom. “I took this.”
“Sure,” I say. “I’m going to pee real quick before we go.”
I dash to the bathroom and close the door. A swift glance around proves that nothing is out of place. The room is mostly empty, but I left the shower curtain, the rug, and the little dish of soaps behind, just to make things homey for the next girl.
I flush the toilet to cover that I’m checking things out and run the water for a second. My face is flushed.
“This isn’t permanent,” I tell the mirror. I can always move in with Jenna or even sleep on the floor in Symphony’s room if I have to. I don’t have to stay at the clubhouse if it’s a nightmare.
When I emerge from the bathroom, the Wild Hair are already revving up their bikes. Betz is behind the wheel of the truck.
Celia waits by my TV, acting like she might take one of the romance novels I left on the shelves. “I like the guy on this cover,” she says, pointing at a shirtless man with the wind blowing his hair back.
“Take it. It’s a sexy one.”
She flips through the pages. “Really? There are dirty parts?”
“It’s super dirty.”
Celia tucks it under her arm. “I don’t do much reading, but I might take a look at this. You ready?”
I pick up my purse from the coffee table and look around. Everything is stark and bare, like a sample unit.
We head out, and I lock the door, tucking the key behind one of my empty flowerpots. I never was good at keeping the plants alive.
“You sure that’s safe?” Celia asks.
“The new girl is coming in a few hours,” I say. “It’ll be fine.”
“You sure are trusting.” She pats her bouncy hair.
“I’m sure you all will teach me to do better.”
“Betz will,” Celia says as she heads for the truck.
Betz leans out the open window of the driver’s side. “Betz will what?”
“Break in the new girl,” Celia says as she climbs into her seat.
“I’ll leave that to the boys,” Betz shoots back and throws the truck into gear.
I scramble to get in my green Bug to follow them.
Two motorcycles go in front, then the truck, then me, and two bikes behind, like a tiny parade.
Despite the bumpy start, I’m getting a full escort to my new life.