by Paige Dearth
The two stood in silence for a few moments, and Joon finally made a decision. “I love you, Quinn.”
He wrapped both his arms around her. “Yeah, I love you more than you’ll ever know,” he replied into her hair as they hugged.
Joon smiled. “I like that...you loving me.”
“Good. Let’s call it a night. I wanna make love to you,” Quinn stated.
Joon’s belly swirled with anxiety.
Quinn watched her. “What’s wrong? I thought we just talked everything through.”
“Yeah, we did. It’s just that…I’m nervous I won’t be good at it.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “That’s impossible. It’s like you were born knowing how to be the best lovemaker on the planet.”
Joon giggled and touched his chest gently. He led her into their box and undressed them both, and before she knew it, she was lying on her back and he was taking both of her hands. “Just kneel, okay?”
As Joon rose to her knees, she glided her hands up his thighs and over his ass.
Quinn rubbed his hand over her hair. “Just take it into your mouth.”
She hesitated for a moment, then sucked on the tip.
Quinn let out a loud groan. “More, Joon. Please. The whole thing. Please.”
Joon looked up. His eyes were pleading for her to do what he wanted, so she took him into her mouth again. This time she took all of him, and he moved her head back and forth until she understood and did the motion on her own. Suddenly, he pulled her head away and laid her back. Quinn got on top of her and put his tongue between her legs while she took all of him into her mouth again. They found a steady rhythm, and several minutes later, Quinn came into her mouth and Joon came into his.
They both collapsed. “That was great, wasn’t it?” Quinn asked.
“Better than I ever could’ve imagined.” She took a moment to regain her breath. “Oh my God, Quinn. I love you so much.”
“I love you too, babe.”
The two lay naked in each other arms, and Joon stayed awake most of the night. She had given herself to Quinn and, because of this, she felt much closer to him. By morning, she was more relaxed.
Quinn’s eyes slowly opened.
“Morning,” Joon said.
“Morning, gorgeous. How long have you been up?”
“Most of the night.”
“Doing what?” he asked, surprised.
“Thinking about us.”
“All good thoughts, I hope,” he muttered.
Joon rested her hand on his shoulder and giggled. “Of course. I was thinking about how much we love each other. You know what I mean?”
Quinn leaned into Joon, and they shared a deep kiss. He pulled his head back slightly to look into her eyes, then softly ran his hand down her chest, over her abdomen, and across her pelvis and slid his fingers into her. Joon closed her eyes, welcoming the love she was about to receive.
Chapter Forty-One
By Thanksgiving, the cold temperatures had returned and the kids on the street were getting ready for another hard winter. Some migrated south, and others found different forms of shelter. This would be Joon’s second winter at the Tracks, and she and Quinn were still talking about where else they could stay. Being outside was hard on the body. The frigid temperatures also played with Joon’s mind—when all she could focus on was being cold, she literally couldn’t think about anything else.
“Hey,” Quinn grunted as he woke. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
Joon snuggled into him. “Happy Thanksgiving. I’m freezing.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty cold. I’ll go out and light a barrel.”
“What are we going to do all winter? You don’t want to go to a shelter, and we don’t have enough money to stay anywhere. You said that you were working on something. Did you figure it out?”
Quinn looked deep into her eyes. “I did. I got us a small place in Kensington. It ain’t much, but it’ll be ours.
“Oh,” Joon moaned, leaning into him. “I don’t care where we go as long as we’re together.”
“Have you ever been there?”
Joon shook her head. “Is it nice?”
Quinn laughed. “We’re homeless teenagers that haven’t had a real bath in months and have no money. How nice do you think it’s gonna be?”
“Oh, man. Is it at least as nice as the worst shelter?” she teased.
He laughed. “Not sure I’d say that either. These places aren’t run by people like Albany. They’re run by people who wanna make money.”
“How will we pay them?”
“I’ll make money from Pug, and the rest we can pay in trade,” Quinn explained easily. “You worry too much. You need to learn how to go with the flow.”
“Well, when are we leaving?”
“We’re all set for tomorrow morning, so let’s enjoy our Thanksgiving. I’m taking you to a diner for a turkey dinner.”
That night, Joon sat in a booth at a diner looking at a plate of round turkey slices, yellow gravy, lumpy mashed potatoes, and limp vegetables. She leaned forward and took a whiff of the food. “This smells so good,” she said, digging her fork into the mashed potatoes.
Quinn didn’t comment. He kept his head down and shoveled the dinner into his mouth, barely swallowing before taking in the next mouthful.
Later, back at the Tracks, they packed their meager belongings and settled in for sleep.
“I’m so excited to go somewhere new,” she said, content from the food and the prospect of sleeping inside soon.
“Yeah? Good. I like making you happy.”
Joon took off her clothes as Quinn removed his own. She laid on top of his body, and with deep, unrelenting passion, they made love.
Chapter Forty-Two
Joon stepped onto the street in Kensington.
“Welcome to life under the El,” Quinn announced. He was swaying to the loud music coming from a parked car.
Joon looked around, then stared above them. A massive steel structure ran the length of the street as far as she could see. “What is that?” she asked.
Quinn looked up at the seemingly endless, prehistoric-looking steel centipede above them.
“That’s the Market–Frankford Line.”
Joon gave him a blank stare.
“It’s the subway, stupid. This is where it rises aboveground.”
Joon gazed at the people on the sidewalk. There were prostitutes and drug addicts everywhere. It wasn’t like Center City, where the prostitutes were more discreet. In Kensington, no one seemed worried about hiding in the shadows. The people and the seedy part of town were jarring to Joon, and she reached for Quinn’s hand.
But as he pulled his hand away, his demeanor changed and his voice was low and deep. “Don’t be so needy. People will notice it. You gotta learn how to stand your ground. We ain’t at the Tracks. You see the people around here? They’ll destroy you if you don’t keep it together.”
Fear surged through Joon. She didn’t like being in such a dangerous area. She and Quinn walked for several blocks before they turned onto Diamond Street and stopped in front of a dilapidated home. There were teenage girls on the porch and men who undressed Joon with their eyes.
“We’re here,” Quinn said, looking up at the house with a smirk. “This is where you’re staying.”
“What do you mean it’s where I’m staying?”
“I don’t think I spoke Spanish? It’s where you’re staying,” he growled.
Joon spun to walk away, but Quinn grabbed her arm. “Where are you going?”
“Back to the Tracks,” Joon said, her voice becoming shrill. “I’d rather freeze to death than live here.”
“That’s not possible. I made a deal with Pug.”
Joon tried to pull her arm away, but he clung tightly. “I don’t care, Quinn. I don’t know what deal you’re talking about, but tell Pug that I’m not staying here. Why the hell would he care if I stay here or not? I’m leaving.”
Quinn backhanded
Joon across the face, and she landed on the concrete. Stunned, she sat on the broken sidewalk and cried.
A few seconds later, a girl’s voice above her said, “Look, bitch, I ain’t your babysitter. Get the fuck up. Time to go.”
Joon struggled to her feet and used the sleeve of her coat to wipe the blood from her mouth.
“You got this?” Quinn asked the girl, who grabbed Joon’s arm.
“Yeah, I got it. Just head out.”
Quinn clasped Joon’s shoulder and squeezed hard. “Don’t be a fool. Well, I mean, you’ve been a fool since Pringle died, but try not to keep it up.”
“W-what?” Joon said, her eyes bulging. “We love each other.”
“Love each other? Please.” He laughed. “You made it so easy, like stealing candy from a baby.”
It took a few seconds for Joon to process what was happening, but her first reaction was hatred—pure and simple. “I hate you,” she screamed. “If Pringle were alive, this never would have happened to me.”
“That’s why I killed her, Joon.” Quinn sneered.
Joon pulled her arm free from the girl and lunged at Quinn, but he took a quick side step and she landed on the pavement. “You motherfucker! How could you kill Pringle? You fucking prick,” Joon screamed as she watched him walk down the block. She wanted to run after him and choke him to death.
“Listen, bitch. If I gotta stand out on this sidewalk for another minute waiting for you to get your shit together, I’m gonna fuck you up.”
Joon looked at the girl incredulously. “Didn’t you hear what he just said?” she demanded. “He killed my best friend. Leave me alone. I’m leaving. You can forget you ever saw me. He killed her. He killed Pringle!”
The older girl laughed. “Girl, I don’t care who the fuck that piece of shit killed. You’re here now, and you ain’t goin’ nowhere. Now get the fuck up,” she said and kicked Joon in the thigh.
Joon glowered at the girl. “I didn’t agree to come here.”
She barked out a laugh. “I’ve had enough. Let’s go.” She bent down, grabbed a handful of Joon’s hair, and yanked until she was on her feet. Then she gripped her arm tightly and pulled her toward the house. “I’m Angie. What the fuck’s your name? Not that I really care, but I gotta know what to call ya.”
Joon didn’t answer, and the attractive black girl with a large gap between her front teeth dug her fingers into her arm harder. “What’s your fucking name?”
“I’m Joon. Stop squeezing my arm so tight. You’re hurting me.”
Angie smacked Joon in the back of the head. “How ’bout that? Does that hurt too? I’ll hit ya more if ya don’t shut up.”
Joon felt dazed as Angie dragged her up the porch steps and into the house. The other girls inside gave Joon dirty looks. Some held their nose as she passed. “You smell like you just crawled out of a sewer, girl,” one girl said. “You a ratty mess.”
Joon realized that, compared to the others, she was in an awful state. She hadn’t had a real shower in a long time. Now, self-conscious, she followed Angie into the house. Just inside the door was a room with large cloth sofas and a small television. There were blankets and discarded fast-food wrappers scattered over the floor.
Angie put her hand on Joon’s elbow. “That girl ain’t joking. You stank, girl. You’re so filthy I can’t even tell what ya look like. Let’s go upstairs. You need to take a shower.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Joon wrapped her arms tightly over her chest. As she followed Angie to the second floor, she held in a scream churning in her throat. Things had moved too quickly since she’d arrived in Kensington.
Angie led her into the bathroom, and Joon looked around. There was tub with a mildew-stained shower curtain, a sink crusted with rust, and a toilet that hadn’t been cleaned in a long time.
“Put your shit in the corner and get undressed,” Angie instructed.
Joon turned to the girl. She closed her eyes tight, and a shallow whimper escaped from deep within her belly.
Angie raised her eyebrows and stepped forward. “Are you fuckin’ deaf? I said take your goddamn clothes off.”
“I don’t want to,” Joon said quietly.
Angie slapped her across the face. “I don’t give a shit what you want. Did I ask you what you wanted, princess? No! I gave you an order. Now do it!”
Joon quickly shed her clothing and stood naked in the middle of the bathroom, shivering even though her nerves were making her sweat. Angie turned on the shower and looked back at Joon. “Get in. We don’t waste water here. Everything costs money.”
Joon stepped into the tub, and the cold water drenched her hair. She stood clutching her body. “The water is freezing.”
Angie grunted. “Girl, you don’t get a hot shower until you earn it.” She handed Joon a bar of cheap soap. “Wash your hair and your nasty body. When you earn money, you’ll buy yourself some shit to shower with, but until then, you can deal with that bar of soap.”
Joon followed her instructions like a robot, showering quickly and drying off fast when Angie handed her a damp bath towel.
“Come to the room across the hall. Pug bought some clothes for you. As for that shit you came in, it all goes in the trash.”
“Why would Pug buy me clothes?”
Angie snickered and shook her head. “I ain’t your mommy and I ain’t here to answer all your stupid questions. Just hurry the fuck up.”
Joon stared at her reflection in the small mirror above the sink. She looked like someone she’d never met—her eyes were crazed, to match the feeling in her belly. She quickly went over to her bag, took out a large comb, and pulled it through her hair, then brushed her teeth until her gums bled.
Joon found Angie sitting with four other girls in the bedroom across the hall. She walked in and closed the door behind her, clinging to the wet towel wrapped around her shivering body. The other girls watched her closely.
Angie broke the silence. “This bitch’s name is Joon. She’s gonna be staying with us.”
A light-skinned black girl named Cinnamon stood and put her hands on her hips. “Um, not so fast. She ain’t no better than the rest of us just ’cause she’s young and white. She ain’t gettin’ no special privileges. When she earns her way in here, that’s when she can stay.”
The other three girls nodded in agreement.
“Cinnamon, I know what the fuck I’m doin’,” Angie spat. “Just ’cause Pug didn’t pick you to bring her into the house doesn’t mean ya gotta act like a nasty bitch. I know how it works here. She’s gonna be in holding like any other new girl.”
Cinnamon walked toward the bedroom door but stopped right in front of Joon and put her nose a few inches away. “Good. You ain’t getting no special treatment here. I don’t like you. I want ya to remember that.”
Cinnamon left the room and the other three girls followed.
Joon covered her face with her hands, letting go of the towel and dropping to her knees. Her body heaved with sobs.
Angie sat back and watched her. After a few minutes, she spoke angrily. “Let me be clear. Ain’t nobody here, especially me, care about your tears. You don’t get no respect from the girls that live here until you earn respect. In fact, you’re pretty annoying. Stop all that crying and whimpering shit. Ain’t nobody wanna be around that all day.”
Joon was still on her hands and knees, but she slowly stood and bent over to grab the towel to cover her body.
“What’s on your leg?” Angie asked.
Joon looked down at her right thigh and instinctively put her hand over the scar. “I got burned.”
“Oh yeah? How’d that happen?”
Joon glared at the girl. “What do you care?”
Angie shrugged. “I don’t really, just curious,” she said, turning away.
“My foster mother threw hot oil from a frying pan on my leg…said she was trying to melt away my fat thighs,” Joon spat.
“Oh, I see. You get your crazy from your fo
ster mom?” Angie laughed.
“I’m not crazy. I’m nothing like her.”
“Uh-huh. Whatever. You’re a damn fool.”
Joon stood awkwardly, still trying to hide her scar. “Do you have some clothes?”
Angie threw a pair of jeans and a crop top at her.
Joon looked the garments over. They were clean. The shirt was skimpy for cold weather, but she didn’t want Angie to hit her again, so she put the clothes on. The jeans were skin tight, the waistband sat low on her hips, and the shirt hit her two inches below her breasts.
Joon rubbed her arms, as if to warm herself. “Now what?” She looked around the room, eyeing the four single mattresses on the floor. “Am I sleeping in here?”
Angie laughed. “No, girl. You don’t sleep in the house. You heard Cinnamon. You’re new. You sleep out back in the shed with the other new girls.”
“Shed?”
The girl pointed out the window. “You sleep outside.”
Joon’s mouth dropped open. “Why do I have to stay outside? I came here to live inside for the winter.”
“We covered this already. You stay out there ’cause you’re new. There’s two other girls out there to keep ya company,” Angie said with a chuckle.
Joon’s insides trembled, her belly twisting and a large lump forming in her throat. Then she pushed her mind to the safe place she had discovered when she lived with Aron. Quickly, her thoughts shut down, and she focused on the task in front of her, removing all emotion and presence.
Angie watched Joon and threw a skimpy coat at her. “Time to go, bitch.”
Joon pulled the coat on, grabbed her wet hair, and twisted the long strands, placing a knot on top of her head with the one hair tie she always kept on her wrist.
“Ready to meet your roommates?” Angie said sarcastically.
Joon didn’t reply. She mechanically followed Angie out to the shed in silence and watched as Angie undid the lock on the outside of the shed door.
“It’s locked from the outside?” Joon asked, startled.
Angie laughed. “God, you’re pathetic. The door stays locked to keep the new girls from running.”
