by Heidi Acosta
She starts to stumble under me, her feet trying to walk. She is starting to come around. I have to keep her walking until I know she is not going to die on me. I coax her down the hall. I hit the light switch in the kitchen. I see what tried to kill her tonight. A white straw with red and blue lines sits next to a plate with white residue on it. Damn I am so angry, I want to scream. She never had tried anything like this before Ronnie. Now he has her snorting the damn pills nearly killing herself. Where the hell is he, now that she was dying? I am mad at Momma for doing this. I hate her as much as I hate him. Thank god Everett is asleep so he does not have to see his mother the addict. I hate her.
I wake and immediately reach over to feel the rise and fall of her chest, her heart beats to a steady rhythm. After I was sure she wasn’t going to die. I put her in bed and searched the whole entire house pulling random items from there spot leaving them where they might fall. I was on a mission to purge this house of anything that she might use to get high. I even dumped the bleach in a panicked state down the drain. She can’t kill herself. Not yet. No, she has to wait until I am old enough that the state will not take Everett from me. Then she can do whatever she wants. She can kill herself for all I care. She mumbles something in her sleep and I snuggle up to her wanting to feel the warmth of her body. But she is ice cold. I wrap my arm over her and try to warm her up. I fall back into a dreamless sleep listening to the beat of her heart.
When I wake again it is to Everett tapping me on the leg. Momma still breathes. Alive. “Hey buddy,” my voice holds a raspy quality to it from all the tears that I shed last night. He points to me and then to Momma. He wants to know why I am in her bed. He has never seen me touch my mother let along snuggled up in bed with her.
“Momma is not feeling well,” I offer him. He looks to the corner of the room tapping his fingers against his leg processing what I just told him. It is if he is playing an invisible piano with his fingers and he is the only one that can hear the music. I wish I could know what he thinks, how he feels. What does he make of this situation? I roll away from Momma and pull him onto the bed with me. He lies there, still, and steady.
Chapter 20.
Sparks
It bothers the shit out of me that Barbie did not want me to know where she lives. It makes me wonder what she is hiding from me. Is she embarrassed to be with me? I think how she seems not to care who at school knows about us, freely kissing me, holding my hand as we walk in the hallways. I am being ridiculous. She wants to be with me. There is something else going on with her and I am determined to get to the bottom of it. I will ask her when I see her at lunch. She will not be happy about me bringing up the subject but I need to know.
“Dylan you will be paired with Katie. Get your books and move to the front please,” Mrs. English announces. I grab my books and shuffle to the front. I would have given anything to be paired with Katie last week, but now all I can do is dwell on Barbie. I slide in next to Katie. She wears her pink cardigan the one I used to love. I watch as she writes in perfect handwriting the instructions for the lab we are working on.
I pour in the clear liquid to the beacon. We are to figure out the elements that we are using by mixing the ingredients properly and analyzing the results of the finished project. Simple.
“It says three quarters,” Katie says, she is keeping a journal of our experiment.
“Huh?” I look at her
“The instructions say to add three quarters and you just added about two cups,” she points to the beacon that is about to spill over.
“Oh, sorry, I am distracted,” I say pouring some of the liquid back.
“Trouble in paradise?” she smirks.
“No. well…okay you’re a girl. What does it mean when a girl will not let her boyfriend come to her house?” I run my hand through my hair. I hope the secret ingredient to this is not hair remover.
“Um… thanks…I think” she replies. “I don’t know protective parents. Crazy ex-boyfriend…Deranged drug dealer.” I ignore the last remark about Barbie, because I know she does not do drugs at least not when I am around.
“Dylan, Barbie has a reputation you know that.” She stops writing and looks at me. “Who know why she does not want you around,” she shrugs.
“She is not messing around with anybody else,” I say reassuring myself. Maybe asking Katie was a bad idea. I don’t know how thrilled Barbie would be telling Katie our problems.
“If you say so,” she shrugs again. “All I know is if I had a boyfriend like you I would not be hiding you.”
Barbie is not hiding me. Is she?
Barbie is waiting at her locker. As I walk up Tyler has one of his arms up over Barbie as she leans her back against her locker. Her hair pulled back exposing her long neck. She wears a loose white T-shirt that hangs off one shoulder, black leggings and her purple wedges that make her as tall as me. Katie’s words swim in my head, maybe she was right. Tyler tucks the strip of pink hair behind her ear. Anger flares inside of me. My possessive side that I never had before Barbie is back for a visit. Tyler is more her type, the complete opposite of me. I am stupid for thinking this could work out. As if she can hear my thought her eyes catch mine as I walk up. She keeps them on me; a coy smile plays on her face.
“Hi Tyler,” I walk past him and pull her to me and gently kiss her. She kisses me back completely relaxed in my arms. Letting the fireworks burn any doubt about us away.
“I’ll catch you later,” Tyler stomps off pouting. Good she is mine.
“What is his problem?” I ask even though I know the reason.
“You just proved to him why I am with you.” She kisses me back and my chest swells.
“Yeah…and why is that?” I ask as she kisses me again.
“Well for one, when I kiss you these little sparks travel through my body.”
I step closer backing her into the locker. “Yeah?” I kiss the side of her mouth.
“Yeah,” her voice sounds husky.
“And when you are this close I lose all reasoning,” I kiss her again wanting to take her further than I had before.
* * *
Barbie’s bare feet are crossed at the ankles my lap. I try to go over this week’s homework; she has her head resting on her text book. She draws a little bird on her pointer finger with a pen. I toss my book aside and lay down next her.
“Do you even listen when I speak?” I rub my hand up her leg.
“Of course I do. You sound a lot like when the teacher speaks on Charlie Brown,” she gives me a wicked grin.
“Oh really,” I grab her side tickling her, loving the way she squirms under me and the sound of her giggle.
“Okay, okay, truth. I will behave and listen.” She shifts her body swinging one leg over me so that she is straddling my chest. I move her hair out of her face so I can see her deep blue eyes. “Do you trust me?” she smiles.
With every part of me, “Ummm…”
She pushes me in the arm. “Just close your eyes. All the way—”
I shut my eyes. My breath hitches as she does an exotic dance with her fingers moving them down my chin and neck. She makes me feel things I have never felt before. And a deep moan escapes me. I feel alive when I am with her. Her fingers run the outline of my lips making them spark alive.
“Okay open your eyes,” she whispers in my ear chills run down my spine. I open my eyes and she holds a small compact mirror for me “You look very distinguished,” she laughs.
On my face she drew a handle bar mustache in blue ink above my lip, I reach out to grab her but she wiggles free, hopping to the ground. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you payback is a bitch?” I jump to my feet and chase after her. She squeals and darts between the trees. She is fast flittering between trees just barely out of my reach. I chase her to the back of the orchard; I have her cornered between two trees and a fence.
“Just remember I love you,” she says holding up one of her small hands.
My heart stops beating. She loves me
. And I love her. I think I love her more than anyone else in my life. And I want to tell her how I feel, but I can’t. “If I give up you have to promise to be nice.” She grips her side. “Trust me,” I smirk at her.
“I trust you,” she takes a tentative step toward me.
“Wrong move,” I dart forward scooping her up.
“Dylan you promised,” she squeals and tries to squirm out of my arms, but I hold her tight.
“I have every intention to make you pay for what you did.” I walk her back to my truck. Setting her down on the tailgate I put my arms on both sides of her, her legs between mine.
“What do you have in mind?” she bites at her bottom lip, a move that drives me crazy. I lean in; my breath hitches at her closeness. Her hand reaches under my shirt and a soft moan vibrates out of my lips making me want to do things to her I have only dreamed about. She tugs at the hem of my shirt. I break away only long enough to help her pull my shirt over my head and help her out of hers tossing them to the side. Our kissing deepens; she wraps her legs around my hips pulling me closer to her. My hands explore her soft skin. I play with the thin fabric that separates us from being skin to skin. Her mouth is back on mine her tongue slowly flicking on my lips. Driving me crazy. My head is spinning as she devours me.
Chapter 21.
Touch
He kisses me as if he is dying in the desert and I am a glass of cool water. He is my savior. My body is alive, humming with anticipation of his next move. Each touch is so slow and gentle, it is almost painful. My body longing for more, driving me crazy, I want him to touch me everywhere. He makes me want to do things I have never done before. I have never been touched like this. I used to be so scared to feel anything, I needed to be numb, but with Dylan I want feel everything. I want to be alive to feel and the pain because with the pain I know will come the cool soothing that he gives me. Every part of me is buzzing as he leans us back against the cold metal scorching my hot skin. I wrap my legs around him pulling him closer. I run my hands across his firm chest. I feel like I cannot get close enough. Damn me for wearing these skinny jeans. I fiddle with the button his hand stills over mine.
“I need to ask you something.” He breathing comes in deep gasps.
“I didn’t just bring you out here to study,” he places his hand over mine stilling it.
“Why you evil, evil genius, you, bringing me out here so you can have your way with me,” I tease.
“You figured my master plan out.” He does an evil laugh. I pull on his belt loops bringing him closer.
“Actually it was all mine, I knew you could resist me.” I reach up and nip at his bottom lip.
He grabs my hands bringing them back to his chest. Thank you God. Mowing lawns does a boy good. I run my hands over his tight chest. He hovers above me, his arms flexed under him, leaning over I kiss his biceps. For no other reason other than being in his arms makes me feel safe. I almost forget what waits for me at home. He lets out a deep moan from the back of his throat. “I need to ask you something,” his face hardens and my stomach flips. He is going to tell me he does not want me anymore, and why would he. “Barbie,” my throat burns with the sting of tears in my eyes. “I never properly got to ask you but…will you be my girl?” He leans his forehead against mine. The tears now fall. I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face in his chest.
“Are you crying?” he tries to look at me, but I keep my face tucked under. I am happy. I nod, afraid of how my voice will sound if I answer him. “Why?” He shifts us in one swift motion so I am sitting in his lap. I keep my head tucked under his chin. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I shake my head, “It is not that… It is… You make me happy,” I say in a broken whisper.
He hugs me tight to his chest. “You make me happy.” He tightens his arms around me. I want to stay this way forever. Wrapped in his arms. Just him and me. My worries so far behind me. I only know how I feel with him.
May
My choice is you…
Chapter 22.
Choices
“Mrs. Starr,” a tall thin lady with long brown hair, waves her hand frantically in our direction. Her willowy arm looks like it might snap at any moment. She calls my name again over the sounds of the starting bus engine. I look away trying to pretend I do not see her frantic waves. Too late I hesitated too long. She steps in front of a bus and nearly misses becoming a hood ornament to a big yellow bus. She does not stop; she keeps coming, jogging in her black leather heels. I stop and wait for her to catch up to us. I mean she practically died, I can at least see what she has to say. “Oh good you heard me, I was afraid I was going to chase you all the way home,” she says breathless. She seems crazy enough she probably would have.
“Well you caught me,” annoyance laces my voice.
“That I did, Mrs. Starr,” she holds her hand out for me to shake. I don’t. After a moment she lets it fall to her side. I am in no mood for whatever this lady is offering, she must be fresh meat right out of college; she is not much older than me. She wears an eager expression, and her clothes are pressed and reek of a department store. Unlike the other faculty members with their rumpled cheap clothing. An ever present coffee in their hand, a look of retirement not that far away in their eyes.
“Well I wanted to introduce myself. I am Everett’s new teacher, Ms. White,” she says her red-painted lips spread into a smile.
“Uh huh.” I know, I have seen the many letters she sent home in his backpack. “I was just trying to meet all the parents of my new students,” she whips a hand down her black pencil skirt. “I tried calling but it seems your phone is out of service… Is there a good time I can talk with your mother?”
How about never. “She is really busy; she works the night shift at the hospital, and sleeps during the day. You know being a single mom and all… Look I will let her know that Evie has a new teacher.” I turn to high tail it out of there before Mrs. Perky can try to interrogate me anymore.
“Miss. Starr it is really important that I meet with her. There are a lot of services that Everett should be getting. It seems like he is just getting the basic at school.” She digs in her pocket pulling out a glossy card. I take it from her and look over it. There is a picture of a red apple with her name and phone number on it. “Tell your mother to give me a call so we can go over these options for him.” I stuff the card in my back pocket.
“Sure thing,” I take Everett and get the hell out of there as quick as I can.
* * *
I tap on Third’s window, his blue curtains rustle before his round face comes into view. His brows shot up into his thin blond hair. He opens the window, “Barbie? What are you doing?”
Momma has been worse than ever. I thought she would slow down after she nearly died. It only seemed to increase her habit use. She has been so out of it lately, worse than normal. I have been calling out of work for her claiming she had the flu. She has been spending the nights stumbling around the house searching cabinets and closets insisting I have pills hidden. Tonight she yanked Everett out of bed shaking him so hard. Screaming at him to tell her where I hid the pills. If I had some I would have given them to her just to make her stop.
“I didn’t want to wake your parents.” I shift from one foot to the other.
“Oh. What are you doing here? It is midnight,” he says confused.
“My mom went to work and locked us out…accidently.” The words tumble out, “Do you mind if we hang out until she gets back to unlock the door?” I lie; it is so natural to lie sometimes I almost believe them myself. He glances behind me at Everett who is spinning in a circle. “Come around to the front I will open the door for you.”
Not only does Third answer the door, but so does his mother in her slippers and her fuchsia moo moo. Her hair is a bright Crayola red hair with pink foam rollers. Embarrassment burns on my cheeks. “Come in, you poor things,” she hurries us in. “Third told me how y’all been locked out. You poor babies,” she pulls me into
her chest hugging me tight. She smells like cheap rose perfume and chocolate cookies.
“Yeah I forgot my keys.”
She shakes her head, “Third said that your momma is in an emergency surgery,” she clucks.
I look at Third who shrugs as if saying, “What?”
“Here, sit down. I’ll get y’all something to eat, to help settle the upset.” We go into the kitchen where she starts pulling out frying pans. “I hope you like grilled cheese; they are Bartholomew’s favorite late night snack.” I smile and suppress the laugh at Third’s real name.
“Love them,” I reply.
After a healthy round of grilled cheese, Everett falls asleep on the pullout sleeper in the living room. I sit on the end of the bed knees to my chest.
“Can I ask you something? Why did you come here and not to Dylan’s?” Third sits next to me on the end of the bed.
“I don’t know. I guess I was embarrassed.” How do I tell him about my life, what if he would not want me anymore? “I have seen you at your worst, so I guess it is easier for you to see me at my low point.” I lean my chin on my knees.
