by Sam Mariano
That thought caused me to scoff.
Safe. I had thrown out my safety net the minute I entered that bedroom with Derek.
No, I told myself firmly, that wasn't true. I just had to figure out how to control the situation. Derek needed to get his revenge, and he was choosing a rather perverted way to do it, but if I humored him, let him get whatever closure he needed and get bored with me, then he would destroy the evidence, and my life would return to its normal state of safety. He could go on hating me until the day he died, for all I cared.
Bastard.
I got to school too soon for my taste, although in reality I was almost late, and I took a deep breath before walking in to face whatever I was about to face.
It felt like everybody was staring at me, but I told myself I was just being paranoid. People had always stared at me. My mother had been the town's version of American Psycho, and I was her offspring, which meant I was probably a demented freak.
That was fine, as long as they didn't think I was a "freak in the sheets." Whether I was or not was my own business, not the whole school's.
My feeling of paranoia intensified when I noticed that Kayla was watching me rather closely through slightly narrowed eyes, and I was sure she must know. Derek had lied to me, he had shown her and everyone else the tape, and now everyone was going to know what had happened. I would lose the two friends I had and once again be brought into the spotlight, not only making my reputation fall to pieces, but also reminding everyone of what my mother had done, in addition to slutting around with Derek Noble, the very son of the woman my mother killed.
I would be a pariah by the time they were finished with me, I thought with no small amount of panic.
But then Stephanie spotted me, and she smiled, walking over to me, greeting me and filling me with relief.
Unfortunately, Derek was in my very first class of the day. Just seeing him sitting on top of my desk, smiling and talking to one of his friends filled me with dread.
The stray and unwelcome thought floated through my mind that he was handsome when he smiled, that his eyes had this remarkable way of twinkling, making them appear to be even more beautiful than their usual blue, making him appear to be sort of... playful.
I shook my head and frowned, banishing the thought from my head as I entered the classroom. Derek noticed me, and he watched as I approached— really watching me. I noticed his gaze slide down my body as he smirked, and I hoped that no one else noticed.
"Excuse me," I said, more politely than he deserved.
"You're excused," he returned, but didn't move.
“I need to sit here.”
"So sit," he said, gesturing openly to the chair.
"Get off my desk," I said, losing my patience.
"Aw, but you didn't say please."
I gritted my teeth, managing to get out, "Please."
He smirked and finally got off my desk, but not before sliding a note across the desk, his hand covering it. I took the hint and sat my books down on top of it when he raised his hand so nobody else would see it, then he went back to his desk. I sat in mine as the bell rang and the teacher began her lecture. Glancing around briefly to make sure nobody noticed, I slid the paper in between my notes and carefully opened it to see what he had written.
Up for another payment tonight?
I glared at the paper even though it wasn't the paper's fault, grabbed a pen and scribbled, "No thanks."
When class was over I dropped the note back on his desk and left the room before he could even read it, thinking to escape him.
He caught up to me in the hall, however. "Hey now, that's not part of our arrangement. Remember the whole 'at my beck and call' part?"
"I can't tonight," I snapped. "Go see your girlfriend."
"Aw, jealous?" he teased.
"Not hardly," I retorted.
"Why can't you? Plans with the choir boy?" he asked, mocking interest.
"No, I just can't."
He shook his head. "Sorry, I'm going to need a better reason than that."
I glared at him, hating him for making me explain myself, hating the explanation even more. I looked around in irritation, just to make sure no one was paying too much attention, and said very quietly, "Did you forget I was a virgin? We can't just jump right back on the horse a few hours later."
He honestly didn't seem to have realized this, and he raised his eyebrows a little. "Oh. Okay. Well, when can you?"
"I don't know, sometime after the bleeding and the soreness goes away," I responded.
He grimaced a little at my description, and that brought me just a little bit of joy. Maybe when I got my period I would complain endlessly to him about that, too.
Oh, speaking of getting periods. "And I had something to ask you," I added, leaning a little closer for the sake of privacy
“Why are you trying to make out with me in the middle of the hallway?" he teased, pulling back.
I rolled my eyes and yanked him back in. "In your dreams," I replied. “I’m serious. I wanted to make sure that you used the proper... protection," I whispered.
He smirked again, reminding me how much I hated him. "What was that?" he asked, pretending not to hear me. "You're gonna have to speak up, this ear's not working so well today. Someone was screaming my name in it last night."
I glared, asking shortly, "Did you or not?"
He chuckled a little, clearly enjoying my discomfort. "Yes, I did."
Well, that was a relief. "Thank you," I said, although I had no idea why I was actually thanking him for anything.
"Is the thought of me knocking you up that terrifying?" he asked, looking amused.
I nodded. "I'd hate to have to pay my dad to push me down a flight of stairs."
With that, I lifted my nose into the air and walked away, smiling a little to myself when he finally called after me, "You wouldn't have to, I'd happily push you for free."
Since Derek didn’t know how long it took for virginal bleeding to subside, I was able to use that excuse for a week before he got suspicious.
The following Friday he didn't ask, he demanded to see me that weekend. He actually asked me for my number so he had a more reliable way of contacting me since I had dodged him at school.
Saturday night I was at home journaling when I heard Alanis Morissette start singing from my cell phone. I didn't recognize the number, but I answered it anyway.
"Hey, you hungry?" Derek asked without returning my greeting.
I rolled my eyes. "No, I just lost my appetite."
"Well, I'm on my way to pick you up."
"Uh," I said, shutting my journal and frowning, "did you not just hear the part where I said I wasn't hungry?"
"You can get dessert then. I'll be there in less than two minutes."
"But... I'm not ready," I said, stalling.
"Aw, you don't have to pretty yourself up for me, but thanks for the concern," he said sarcastically.
"I'm doing homework," I lied. "I'm concentrating. You can't interrupt me right now."
"Oh, good. I'll come over and help you study."
"Yes, and then the Earth will open up and swallow me whole while pigs fly over my head. Think again; the door will be dead-bolted."
"You know, you're really terrible at playing sex slave," he informed me.
"And you're really terrible at being a decent human being. You overlook my shortcomings and I'll try to overlook yours," I shot back.
"You're so hateful, Nikki," he said tauntingly.
"That's because I hate you, Derek," I told him brightly.
"Well, get over that feeling, because I'm about to pull onto your street. Which trailer's yours?"
I raised my eyebrows. "You seriously think I'm going to tell you that?"
"Well, if you don't I'll knock on every door until I find yours. That should look really good to your neighbors."
Deflated, I felt my shoulders slump. "About halfway down the road, there's a porch light, it's a blue trailer. Don't
you dare get out of the car, I'll meet you in the driveway."
"Don't keep me waiting," he replied before hanging up.
I sighed as I hung up the phone, slipping it into my purse and walking out of my bedroom to wait for him in the living room.
By the time he pulled in, I was in a miserable mood. I slid into the passenger seat of his car and he didn't bother greeting me, although I don't know why I thought he would. After all, it wasn't a social occasion, it wasn't a date, it was just a cheap tryst.
Thinking about that made me grumpy, so I glanced over at him, trying to muster some empathy.
I understood that he hated me because my mother had killed his mother, but I still didn't feel that it was fair. After all, I didn't hate him just because his father was the man who broke my mother's heart, or because his conception had been the reason his father broke my mother's heart, so why should he blame me for something my mother did? I still loved her, yes, but I wasn't saying what she did wasn't wrong. It was wrong, and I had spent years paying for it, but she was still my mother and from her journals I also understood how she felt.
Honestly, I was still curious. That main part of my mother's short life still fascinated me, but there was only so much information in her journals. Even though I had never known Derek before high school, I had known about him and his family my whole life.
I don't think I meant to say it, in fact I'm sure I didn't, but somehow one of my questions slipped right out of my mouth. "Do you remember your mother?"
I could tell that was the last thing he expected me to ask, and judging from the look on his face, it was exactly the question I should not have asked. "You have no right to ask me about her," he said carefully, his jaw locked so tight it looked like it might crack.
"I was just curious," I hurried to explain. "I wasn't going to say anything about her, I just wondered... I know I have memories of my mother, and I just thought—"
"Well, stop thinking," he said angrily, cutting me off.
Neither of us said another word until we got to McDonald's, and once we were there, he told me to stay in the car, as he didn't want anyone to see me with him, and he asked what I wanted.
I sat in the car sulking as he went in to get the food. He had no right to keep belittling me the way he did, and it was starting to piss me off. Did he think I was proud to be out with him? Not hardly. I didn’t like him either, I just had a little more sympathy for him, which was probably my mistake. Maybe he didn't deserve my sympathy, not even a little bit.
When he came back out he handed me the bag and I thanked him automatically, then bit my own tongue, cursing my good manners. He nodded and started eating his own double cheeseburger.
We ate in complete silence. I had no idea what he was thinking, although he appeared to still be mad at me. I alternated between thinking about our mothers and what might take place when we got done eating. Would it be the same without the alcohol? Even though I "didn't remember" anything (a trait I inherited from Alex, who could "forget" anything he did with any woman) I did remember at least enjoying myself. I did remember what it felt like to have my fingers tangled in his hair, his body pressing into mine... and even though I thought he was a jerk, thinking about it still warmed my body, made my fingers itch to delve into that soft head of hair once more.
I still hated him though.
It was purely a physical attraction, and definitely not a strong one.
It was definitely nothing to worry about, just a few unruly hormones.
After leaving McDonald's he headed back in the direction he had come from. I didn't think too much of it at first, I just listened to the radio and decided I didn't like his music taste at all.
It wasn't until he turned back into the trailer park that I realized he really did appear to be heading back to my place. When he pulled onto my road, I knew he was.
"Um... we can't go into my house," I said, refusing to let him invade the sanctuary of my room.
He didn't respond at all, just drove down the road and pulled into my driveway.
"Get out," he said simply, not even looking at me.
My eyes widened a little. "What?"
"Get out," he said slowly, enunciating each word.
"But..."
"What?" he asked, finally looking at me. "You're so overwhelmed with desire for me that you'll perish if I don't touch you tonight?"
I ignored his sarcastic question. "What about the video?"
He shook his head, looking away from me. "I'm not gonna show anyone, I just don't feel like dealing with you tonight. Maybe I'll pick you up tomorrow."
I could not get out of that car fast enough. He was letting me off the hook and not showing the tapes, so I didn't want to stay there long enough for him to change his mind.
I was so busy thinking about how relieved I was that I had somehow gotten out of my blackmail for the night that until I sat down on my bed and pulled my journal out to tell it about my grand misadventure, I didn't realize that I didn't feel happy.
Oddly enough, I kind of felt guilty. Not about getting out of sex, I wouldn't feel guilty about that, but when I thought of the foul mood I had put him in by asking about his mother, I realized he was probably thinking about her after my question. I probably caused him to realize exactly how much he missed her, and I had probably made him sad.
As mean as Derek was to me, I didn't like thinking that I had made him sad. Angry, fine, but not sad. I knew sadness, especially over the thought of what you were missing out on by not having a mother, and I knew it wasn't a good feeling.
That was why it frustrated me that he had to be such an asshole all the time. If he would stop being a jerk long enough to talk to me like a human being, he might realize how much we had in common. It would be a strange friendship, with lots of sordid history that we would be best to avoid talking about too much, but I thought it might work.
But maybe I was wrong. Maybe Alex was right. He told me I spent too much time reading my mother's journals, looking through old photographs. He told me one time that I was too busy thinking about her life to go out and live my own. If he knew I had gone out with Derek Noble, that would surely solidify his belief.
But that wasn't how I thought about it.
I couldn't help if my mother and I were similar creatures. We even looked strangely alike, although she had blue eyes and I had green. We had a similar figure, the exact same auburn hair, the same straight, upturned nose, and stubby fingers. I got Alex's eyes, and apparently his ability to forget things he didn't want to remember, but that was about the end of our similarities. For the most part, I was my mother's daughter all the way. As for our personalities, I wasn't at all like her in matters of the heart, but that was probably because of how she was. If she wasn't crazy about someone, she didn't want to be with them.
As for me—I didn't want to be with anyone who could drive me crazy.
Chapter Three-
I didn’t hear from Derek for the rest of the weekend, which I wasn’t too upset about.
On Monday, I had to go to school and Alex had to go to work. I probably could’ve called Andy, but since the party I didn't feel right asking Andy for favors.
Normally I would have just walked to school, but on this particular morning it was raining and I didn't want to show up at school drenched. So, as I did quite often, I got up a little earlier and took Alex to work, then drove myself to school in Alex's car.
Derek was in my first class but he didn't pay much attention to me, merely glancing up at me as I sat down before turning his attention right back to the girl he had been talking to before I walked in.
I was hardly offended, if that had been his intention.
I went through my next few classes never once thinking of Derek, just talking to Stephanie in one class, Andy in the next, and before I knew it, it was time for lunch.
I was buying lunch but when I went for my money, I realized that I left it in the car, so I told Andy I would find him when I got back and I went outside
to get my cash.
It wasn't raining anymore, and actually hadn't been for a while. I probably could have walked to school, but it truly had looked like it was going to rain all day.
When I saw Alex's car I frowned a little, thinking it looked like there was something on the window, but too far away to be able to tell what it was. It didn't look like bird poop, because it looked red... maybe it was just a reflection.
I hastened over to the car, and saw that in red marker, someone had written "whore" in capital letters across the driver seat window. I was so busy looking at the windows that I didn't realize until a moment later that my car for some reason looked shorter.
When I looked down at the tires, I saw that the left front driver side tire was flat... I backed up, noticing that the back tire was flat, too...
I could feel the anger coursing through my veins when I realized that all four tires were flat, and not like I ran over glass; all four tires had multiple vicious gashes in them.
Alex's tires.
That I would have to pay to replace.
I felt like I might burst into tears, but rather than do that I decided to go inside and take my fury out on the culprit.
I stormed back into the lunch room, growing angrier with each step. I quickly scanned the room, locating Derek, and made my way to his table, digging my nails into my own palms with the anger that I could practically feel seething from my pores.
Without saying anything else, I stopped at the head of his table and demanded, "Did you do that to my car?"
If he had been mad at me before, he saw by my expression that I had just won the anger match. "What are you talking about?" he asked me.
"Don't play stupid," I spat angrily. "Are you the one that did that to my car?" I asked, my voice actually breaking.
"Nicole, I have no idea what—”
I cut him off, grabbing his arm and yanking. "Here, let me refresh your memory."
He frowned, but followed after me anyway, allowing me to drag him by his shirtsleeve. "Nicole, I didn't do a damn thing to your car," he said.
"Then who did?" I demanded. "Who else but you would write 'whore' on my window?"
