by Brown, Tara
"Get in, you pain in the ass."
I glance at him and roll my eyes, "It's like a few blocks." I point.
"If you get raped in one block, I'm a dead man."
I mutter rebuttals but climb in the front seat next to him.
"I heard that." He mutters and drives.
"I hate him."
His lips wriggle back and forth, "I know. I also know you all can't live without each other. You saved each other when you were kids and it isn’t any different now. You just gotta find a way to save each other again."
I look straight ahead and let my filter turn down all my arguments.
I stumble up the steps and feel lost in too many ways to process. I'm exhausted.
When I hit the sheets I sleep instantly.
I wake to Michelle humming. I glance at the clock and grimace. She frowns at me, "Dude, when did you get home?"
I can barely get my eyes open, "Booooo. Stop being cheerful and humming."
She sits on my bed and bounces it. I grumble and pull the covers up.
"Did you make the crawl of shame?"
I open one eye and smirk, "What?"
She pulls back the covers and plucks my t-shirt, "What is this?"
I swallow and stretch and moan a little, "My…" I clear my throat, "Uhm. T-shirt."
I make duck lips and watch her. She arches her eyebrow and shakes her head, pointing at my shirt and waggling her finger. "Nuh uh. No. I know all your dirty skeezy little orphan clothes and this shit isn’t yours." She bats her eyelashes blankly, "Spill bitch."
I roll on my side and try to imagine the words I would use to describe it. There are none.
"Fine. Keep your secrets. Just say it was Sebastian. I want details eventually, I kind of have an idea how it goes anyway." She closes her eyes and grinds her hips on my bed, "Oh. Yeah I got some visuals for that one."
I shove her and laugh, "Dirty. No. I was with Eli."
Her green eyes pop open, "No. What have you done? Did you wreck it with Sebastian?"
I shake my head, "I don’t know. Maybe. I'm seeing him again tonight."
"Sweet Jesus. Somebody lost her V-Card and went wild with it." She looks around, "Where is your phone?"
"Why?"
She grins, "Cause Catholic girls gone wild is gonna be calling."
I laugh, "I left it there. I told him. I don’t want anything from him. I was going to go to financial aid today and apply for a loan for summer semester."
Her perfectly manicured dark eyebrows knit, "Huh? You humped him and wore his shit home, but he can't pay for your schooling anymore?"
I cover my eyes and moan, "Noooooo. Don't say humped. So nasty." Who am I to call anything sexual, nasty? I open my eyes and bite my lip.
"Dude, did you take those pills I gave you?"
I nod.
"Good. You don't want to be having sex without protection. You don't know where Eli has been."
My heart burns when I think about his room. He has that for a reason. He uses it on other girls. I gag a little.
"For reals Sarah, are you done with Eli or not?"
I shake my head again, "I don’t know. Yes. No. I don’t know. I just want to sleep longer and then go to financial aid. I have a paper due next week and I haven’t even started. I'm meeting Sebastian tonight. I know that much."
Her eyes twinkle, "Wanna take this new found awesome-sauce you have and try going to a bar again?"
I'm about to shove her right off the bed and say no, but I don’t. I stop and think. I nod once.
She squeals and butt hops on my bed.
"We can double. I'll ask Vince to come."
"Who?"
Her eyes widen in delight, "Rebound boy. I love me some rebound boy."
"What about Stuart?" I think about what he said earlier. I like Stuart. I feel loyal to him.
"What about Sebastian?" She mocks me.
"Dick."
She sticks her tongue out and leaves for class. I stare up at the stark white of the ceiling. The images I never saw because of the blindfold, but can imagine, flood the empty space in my mind. His hands holding me and the silver flash of metal spanking me. I squeeze my thighs together and sigh. I need closure. I need to not want him.
I get up and pull on my own yoga pants that Shell said I needed and a lime green hoodie. I slip on my Uggs and my white down coat. I turn the lock and walk out of the room. I'm partway down the stairs when I think I see him. I stop and watch a man in a pea coat and dress pants talking to someone. It's him. His dark hair is in the faux hawk. He's pointing with a leather glove at my building and shaking his head. I grimace and watch him. His blue eyes look intense and angry. It makes my stomach twinge.
I creep to the door and push it softly. I pull my hood up and walk to the path to the left, instead of toward the sidewalk where he is.
I hear him speaking to the man like he is lesser, "I don’t care what the problem is with it, it's how I want it. Change the policy." The arrogance in his voice makes me shudder.
I hustle along the sidewalks through the paths made by other people's footsteps. The wind is cold and bitter.
I climb the steps of the building and walk to the financial aid office. I walk in and smile at the secretary. She is older with brown hair and a mom look. She isn’t trendy like Doctor Bradley. She's just a mom. Cuddly and soft.
"Hi sweetie." She says. I like her instantly.
I have a seat and smile, "Hi."
"Can I help you?"
I nod, "I hope so. Here's my student ID. I need to discuss a student loan for next semester and beyond that."
She smiles, "Grants and scholarships running out?"
I cross my arms, "Something like that."
She takes the card and pulls on glasses, "Let's see what we have here." She puts my number in. She frowns, "Honey, you have paid your tuition up to the end of your degree. There is a note on the account that if you choose to stay on for your masters or doctorate, we are to contact your guardian, a Mr. Elijah Adams." She squints, "Does that sound right?"
I sigh, "Something like that."
She hands me back the ID. She looks bug eyed with the glasses on. I take it back and stand up, defeated. "Thanks."
I'm sure she thinks I'm nuts. I walk back out into the cold and look in the direction of my building.
I don’t have anything without him. I need a job. I walk to my dorm. I sneak past the sidewalk where he isn't anymore.
I climb the stairs and wonder what to do. I'm foggy from plotting and disappointment, when I open the door and miss the man on my bed. I close the door and stop when I see the shoes. They're the ones that kicked me in the parking lot. I press my back against the door and let my eyes travel his pants slowly.
He looks beautiful and moody. I like it when he's moody. No matter how hard I fight it, I do.
He cocks his eyebrow and holds my phone up, "You forgot something last night."
"Why did you pay for all my tuition for the next four years?"
He ignores me, "Stop being a pain in the ass. Do you know how hard it is to track you without the cell phone? Stuart and I literally have to follow you everywhere you go. It's annoying. Luckily, I had a meeting here today so I could return it."
"I don’t want anymore help from you. I don’t want money or stuff or Stuart driving my ass around."
He stands up and fixes his coat. He walks to the door and bends to kiss my cheek, "Are you angry?" he asks in a soft voice. His words brush against my skin, making me shiver.
I nod.
"Good." He takes my hand and opens the door to the dorm, "I have something I want to show you and I sort of need you angry for it." He pulls me from the dorm. My stomach flutters with excitement.
I let him drag me but I mutter, "I want those damned shoes burned."
He laughs, "Deal."
"I still can't believe you kicked me."
"I didn’t want to. I needed you to believe."
I glance at him as we leave the dorms, "Keep tel
ling yourself that."
He grins his cocky, shitty grin, "Keep telling yourself the paddle doesn’t turn you on."
I snort and hate that he knows so much about me. My cheeks are on fire just hearing the word paddle.
Chapter Nineteen
His hand doesn’t leave mine, not even in the SUV. Stuart pulls up to the curb of a dodgy-looking building. His eyes meet mine and I sense worry coming off of him. We climb out. I notice Stuart doesn’t get out and open the door for Eli. Eli's grip on my hand tightens. I'm feeling a disturbing fear. He wants me angry. He wants to show me something. I have no idea what it could be. I see a bulky guy walking up to the door. He beams when he sees Eli.
"Adams, yo. You're back." They slap hands like they grew up in the same hood. I'm officially freaking out. The guy eyes me up. He nods at me.
Eli points to me, "This is Sarah Mastermen."
I've never heard of that girl, except in the article. It feels weird to be her.
"Sarah, this is Angelo. He's a lightweight champ."
I eye him up and down. He's a beast. He doesn't look like a lightweight.
Angelo grins, "I can strip weight off like a mutha."
I nod and smile like my Spanish teacher always told me to do when I was lost.
Angelo gets the door for us, like he wants to open the door for Eli.
They both watch me, waiting for me to go in. I nervously walk into the room.
It's grey. Grey walls, grey floors, grey air. It feels warm and heavy.
I clutch my coat. Then I hear it. Grunts and slaps. I gulp.
His hand on the small of my back is warm and relaxing. He guides me through to a room with benches. Angelo watches me, grinning and shaking his head. He starts taping up his hands and stripping clothes off.
Eli is doing the same. Seeing him down to a tight white undershirt is a delightful distraction from the feeling I might pee my pants any second. I can see his tats through it. He is sexy. Angelo is even more so. His abs are sculpted and ridged. I feel the blush on my cheeks and look down at the floor. Angelo leaves the room and winks at me, "See you out there Tinkerbell. Unless you chicken out. I understand if you’re too scared to do this."
I scowl as my head whips around to watch him leave. I can feel my mind accepting his challenge before the common sense part of my brain can disagree.
I look back at Eli, "Tinkerbell?"
He smiles, "You do kind of look like her. Big blue eyes and light-yellow, blonde hair. I can see it." He hands me a bag and nods to the corner, "Go put this on."
I snatch the bag and stalk off. I fling the change room door open and sit on the bench inside of the small closet-like room. I look at myself in the mirror. I only see me. I almost wish for a second I could see her still. I strip my clothes off and pull on the things in the bag. Everything fits perfectly, including the runners.
I jump when he bangs on the door, "Let's go Tink."
I laugh and shake my head, "Fuck you Eli."
The change room is silent. I fling the door open, stuffing my things in the bag. His face is red and his square jaw is tight.
"Do I ever speak to you that way?"
"Let's not discuss the things you do to me."
He laughs bitterly.
I shoulder past him and walk through the doors Angelo went through. I'm in a long hallway. I hear the door swing again when he walks through it. He shoulders me back and turns, "In this place, you get what you give."
I grin, "Well then, let's play. I have some serious shit I'd love to give back to you."
He licks his lips and fights a grin. The dimple distracts me for a second.
He nods and walks through another door at the end of the hall. The noise blasts into the hallway from the door. I slow down and feel my stomach gnawing at me. I push through and gulp. It's several rings, wrestling or boxing rings. There is music playing somewhere from a shitty sound system and guys grunting everywhere. I see a girl with man muscles. I grimace.
"Don’t look so horrified. She is a pro female boxer."
I lean into him, "Heavy weight?"
He laughs and shoves me along. His fingers bite into my skin. I pull away. He looks at me and the red marks on my arm. "Sorry. I get pretty hyped in here."
My arms wrap around me. It's involuntary.
I've boxed in gym class. I actually liked it. It was fun to hit things. People. I haven’t done it in years though and never with guys like this. Eli, who has to be six two and two-twenty, is not a big guy here. He's not even average. He's lean. People wave to him and pound his knuckles. Everyone knows him. The old guys who look like bikers and the young guys who look like UFC champs.
He strolls over to the far corner where an older man is talking to some younger guys. They're skinny and more my size. I realize they're more like twelve, as we get closer. I sigh. He's going to make me take self-defense classes with little boys? I wonder if maybe they're Catholic too, and chuckle in my head at my joke.
I stop chuckling, reminding myself how sane people don’t laugh at their own jokes inside of their head. They tell them aloud and laugh. I look at the crowd and instantly my filter shuts that one down.
The older man smiles at me, "You must be Sarah." He claps his hands and beams at me.
I force my lips to turn up and be polite. He has enough joy inside of him for us both. He's old but still sparkly eyed and feisty.
"I'm Lance, in case Eli there hasn’t told you and this is beginner's boxing."
The boys look at me, appraising me.
Hands grip my shoulders. "You boys go easy on Tinkerbell here okay?" Angelo squeezes me. "You still have a chance to run away Tink." He slaps me on the ass and walks off laughing. My eyes are wide and horrified.
Lance laughs, "If that’s gonna offend you Tink, you're gonna need to toughen up. Or take a seat on the pine over there."
Fire burns in my eyes when I glance at Eli. He is pressing his lips together. He looks like he's about to burst.
Lance claps his hands again. "Three laps around the gym. Fast. I want a quick warm up." I stretch my legs and flex everything. When Lance blows his whistle I blow past Eli. I could kill him. I think of the millions of things I want to say to him. How I don’t want to obey him and be under his thumb. The things get less and less important as my legs finish their stretch and I kick it into high gear. I'm lapping the kids and Lance.
As I lap Eli I laugh, "Still can't catch me huh." I shoulder him and keep running. I hear his pace pick up, but I have loads of room left in my legs to stretch out. I kick it up. He doesn't stand a chance, I finish my last lap and start stretching.
Lance comes in next, he beats Eli and the kids. I eye up Eli as he comes in next. He gives me a death glare but I shrug it off, "Somebody let an old man kick his ass."
"In the ring Tink." Lance points at me.
I sigh, "Lance…uhm…sir. My name is Sarah."
He waves me off, "We all have nicknames here. I'll never remember Sarah. But with your hair in that bun, you look like Tinkerbell."
I look back at Eli who is still sucking wind, "What's his nickname?"
Lance looks confused, "That’s Eli. We don’t nickname him."
I point at Angelo kicking the crap out of a guy in the ring next to us, ""Him?"
He winks, "Angelo."
"What his real name?" I ask and pull myself into the ring.
"Angelo?" He says it like I'm the dumb one. I'm exasperated.
The ring feels funny. I bounce and hop and get why boxers can spring around so easily on TV when they fight.
The kids start to filter in. Lance throws tape at me. "Tape up."
Eli saunters over and takes the tape. He wraps my hands. They feel funny. He sticks the tape in his pocket and winks at me, "For later."
My right eye twitches. He laughs and walks away.
The kids and me stretch, practice air boxing and practice some more. My shoulders and arms are burning. I feel like I might pass out any second. I'm the one wheezing and sucking air
. Eli has left. I look around for him. I catch the cross tat in the far corner. He's naked from the waist up and fighting a beast of a man. Eli is fast. I wouldn’t have even known it was him, if it weren’t for the huge cross. He fights with severity and passion. It makes heat in my belly.
"He's good huh?" I glance over at the kid next to me and nod.
I look around at the fighters and sigh, "Kinda scary. These guys are all good."
He hits my butt with his glove and nods, "We'll be that good one day Tink."
I glance at Lance and shoot daggers with my eyes. He grins at me.
"Okay, first up for sparing. Tink and Brandon."
I look around for the kid grinning and thanking his lucky stars he gets to beat on a girl.
Brandon is taller than I am and not nearly as skinny as I would like him to be. I purse my lips and wince, "Can't I have that kid?" I point to a scrawny kid in the corner whose face matches mine.
Lance rolls his bright twinkled eyes, "Tink. He's eleven. Brandon is fourteen. He's closer in age to you."
Brandon has a shit-eating grin. I want to make him eat it. I know what's more realistic though. I'm going to get beaten up by a little boy. Lance straps my helmet on and knocks it. I focus my eyes, "Ouch."
"That’s so you know how it feels." He slides a guard in my mouth. I start to panic and gag. "Shith hurtsh." I point with my glove at the guard in my mouth-that he touched.
He ignores me. I try to ignore the fingers that touched my mouth guard. I am not that girl anymore.
"Shtupid mouth guard gives me a lishp." I mutter.
He grabs my heavy-ass gloved hand and drags my to the middle of the ring. Brandon looks like he's king of the hill. I just want to kick him in the pills and end it.
"Clean fight, no kicking in the junk, no biting, and no kissing Brandon." I look horrified and Brandon's face is beet red. He snickers and nods at the smug-ass kid behind me.
"Mitts in." I putt my mitts in and Brandon pounds my hands. My skinny arms drop. The gloves weigh a ton.
Lance throws a hand up, "Fight!" he shouts. I step back immediately. Brandon swings wildly. I turtle and cry out, "Ow, you little shit. Shtop it. Let me have a chanshe."
His fists pummel me. I realize after a bit he isn’t hitting that hard. Eli hits harder with a paddle.
