Her breathing stops. Then it begins.
“The hell you aren’t! You think I’m going to let my only son stay in school for the rest of the year without even coming over to see his mom for winter? What weed do they give the kids these days? Or did you try the white-”
“Mom! Calm down and please…please let me explain.”
“What’s there to explain Spencer? We have never gone this long without a hello or even a goodbye. What could you possibly say that would make me understand this?”
“Jasmine and I broke up,” I whisper, barely audible to me, but enough to solicit a gush of sympathy all the way home.
“Spencer…I-”
“It’s okay mom. I’ve been working through it with time.”
“When did…you know. When did you two stop being together? Did she come to see you and give you a reason?”
“Mom, it’s been months ever since we last spoke. Heck, the last time I saw her was when we rushed into that cab.”
“Oh no,” a sudden realization ebbs in her mellow voice. It’s a tone she only uses when she wants to break bad news to me. Like why the red and blue lights were flashing outside my window all those years back, and why she was crying with the draped flag in her hand, her knees kissing the floor… and why I would never see dad again.
“What is it, mom? Spit it out.” I feel restless. Maybe she has news of her, maybe she’s seen her, or even better yet, talked to her. Why the fuck would this surge of hope feel this good? She ended it, but…I still need to know if she’s okay.
“Spencer, don’t get mad. Please promise me. I hate it when that happens,” she implores. I can hear the slow wringing of the pencil in her hand. There is no doubt my legs will take any of this. I swing them over and out to the back of the building, and sweep my gaze around for any sign of an uninvited guest who could have silently crept up behind me and waited for this opportune moment to surprise me with food.
No one but the wind greets me. Oh well, a guy can be a hopeless foodie.
“I promise,” I breathe out. It’s been a while since I said those two words. Deep inside, I pray she does not kill me further than my kindness can allow.
“Okay son. So I was walking down the thrift shop by the corner of Lex and Blythe with Suzie and her girls. You know, they’re really growing up these days. I think it must be the canned pineapple she gives them, or the random survivalist exercises her husband Joe gives them on the weekends. Then her hair was all a mess, and we were talking randomly on how we could make it longer and straighten it, then-”
“Mom…”
“Sorry dear. So we were getting some clothes to refurbish the quilts we make on Sundays, and then, in the little bistro on 3rd, I saw her.”
I know who she’s talking about, but,
“Who did you see mom?”
A lengthy sigh follows, one that wishes it would not be the bearer of bad news.
“Jasmine. I saw Jasmine.”
I know it was bound to come up. I just…I just have to know. I realize I’m pacing around, throwing my boots anywhere they might land.
“How was she? Did she seem okay?”
“Spencer, I thought it was her cousin or something. You know how secretive that family gets, especially her dick father. But now that you broke up so long ago…I thought…I’m sorry son…”
“I could use the truth right about now, mom. Who was she with?”
“A man. Slightly older than you, but…”
“Don’t stop mom. Tell me everything.”
“They were holding hands. I’m so sorry Spencer; I didn’t think anything of it till now. Please…you promised.”
Our first kiss could always have been the last. Our last kiss should never have been. It is the one thing I cannot get out of my mind. And it is hard, harder than kicking the wall in front of me till my toes hurt. Maybe it could work if I use my fists too. I try. It bloody fucking hurts. She’s yelling through the line. Not far from here, a girl screams in ecstasy, and there is a group shouting in applause.
“Spencer! You promised! You said you wouldn’t get mad and now I can hear you hitting something. Spencer! Answer the damn phone! Ans-”
“I’m here. And I’m not angry.”
“Don’t you dare lie to me Spencer. I’ve raised you well enough to know when your fist is bumped against a wall.”
I calmly sit down on the rough patch of asphalt. My face is wet, and so is my fist. Different fluids; both salty and free. Pain must be freedom, I surmise. My spirit is yelling at me to stop, to just talk it out, to scream it and throw it away. Fuck my spirit.
“Mom, I’m going to be honest with you, and I want you to shut up as I talk. You will say nothing, nothing at all. By the time I’m done, I want you to assure me that everything is going to be alright. I need you now more than ever, and I don’t know if I can do this without physically harming myself. Your promise, mom. I need it.”
“You have it Spencer. I’m here,” the silence on the other end is deafening. Her fingers are no longer wrapped around her pencil or tax returns or on her lips, but by her heart. It is mutual on my end.
“I loved Jasmine with all my heart, mom. She was my first in everything we did; every adventure, every run, every tear. I was there for her when she needed her dad the most, even when he hated me for it. I was her shield, and she was my sword. When the kids came at me at school, do you know who stopped them with words? Her. She was my ultimate, my end. And do you know what she did, mom? Even after all the love and care I gave, even after her asshole of a dad kept calling us poor and worthless, even after I treasured her with everything, everything, she lets go of our promise.
She was, mom. She never is, but was. Remember that mom. Jasmine Turner, the woman who granted me the one thing all my fantasies couldn’t; a home for my heart. And with one epic email, she spit it away into the fire. Email, mom, was her weapon of choice. I actually took a screenshot of it and framed the message. And do you want to know what I did with it? I’m sure you would.
I keep it in my wallet mom. The tiny card, like an address for super gifts in a warehouse somewhere, I keep the memories in that tiny frame. I need to remember this, I’ve always needed to remember this pain whenever my love and kindness washes over me and lies to me, lies to me to call her and remind her forgetting mind of what we were, and what we vowed we would be. My roommate, Bryce, laughs at the idea, but stays away from me in case I flip and punch him in the neck.
I’m not angry mom, not anymore. I have cursed and waited and grappled with the fact that she moved on, and so should I. I understand that now. But for that to happen I will need tons of space mom. Tons, and this, this will mean I cannot come back home. There is simply no way for me to accept seeing her with another man.
I might just go nuts and flip and tear his face apart, and I fear for what I might do to Jasmine. Her dad always called me an animal, and in this case, I do not know what my hands might do to her. Love and hate can be a fickle presence in a glass, and the line that separates them, is just too thin.
I need you to come see me mom. It’s okay, I’ve saved enough cash from my job here in school, and you can stay for at least three nights, so don’t you worry about how you’ll get by. You are the only one that has never broken my trust, and the only one I can stand to see back home. I just…I can’t mom. Please, just come. It’s all I ask.”
My breath is short, and my lungs spent. The bloody stain on my tongue is like metal; salty but warm. The shouts are less now, and most of the students are in the fucking territory of the night. I might be dehydrated now from all the invisible ninjas chopping onions in my face, but what more can I say? I hear her breathing on the line, and a slight faint sniff. A tissue is ripped, and used.
“I’ll be on the earliest cab there Spencer. Mom’s always here for you.”
“I love you mom. Thank you,” is all I can whisper. My throat is dry, scratchy and exhausted.
“I love you too Spencer. Hold on for me till I get there alri
ght? Promise you won’t do anything rash.”
Without the missing of a heartbeat, “I promise.”
The line is cut, and I am left to enjoy the bitter-sweet laughter that runs out of me in a scream; a sharp, piercing scream that raptures the still quiet of the orgies making the night special. I let it all out, the scratching thinness of my painted fist, the callous treasures of my deepest kindness, the fading but particular memories, the simmering shadow in my loving heart, and spread it out into the wildfire of the stars. I am alone, and forever will be. I don’t know why I smile at the thought. It must be the joke I’ve been too blind to laugh at.
*
“I’ll see you next semester man,” his cocky smile and grateful eyes bid me farewell. His bags are packed and his libido sated. The end of the school semester is finally here. The parties are over, the grades scored, and the students in their cabs, spiraling for home.
“I’ll see you Bryce. Miss ya!”
“No homo, right?” he smiles, swinging his backpack over his shoulder, his hand busy with the brown suitcase filled with his…stuff. Miscellaneous at this point, I can’t even tell what he’s been collecting over the few months we’ve become brothers.
I laugh and grab a quick hug from the man. “No homo.”
“I wish I could stay and see your mom though. You speak so highly of her; I can’t help but w-”
“I will fuck you up Bryce. No moms, we discussed this!” I protest. He punches me in the arm. It kinda soothes the buzzing under the bandage wrapped around my fist. It was a long night after the rooftop. I came back spent and woozy, and slept on the floor. I woke up in the night, startled by a soft touch on my skin, with Bryce dead asleep on his bed with a blonde girl by his side and a naked Stacey Brown tending to my wound. I didn’t think much of it, despite seeing her boobs swinging round and her nicely kept bush wiggling at me from an arm’s length, and slept away. I woke up with a note stapled to my desk:
“Whenever you’re ready”
“Alright man, I was just messing with you,” he quickly quips. “Say hi for me, will ya?”
“I will.”
He turns to the door, and swings it open. My hands are in my pocket, aimlessly twiddling the lint. “Keep in mind that there are way more fish in the sea Spencer. Next semester I don’t care. We tag-teaming those bitches. Am I right or am I right bro?”
His arm is in the air, outstretched and waiting. I was raised to never let that respect go unchecked. A high five and a weird left handshake, he leaves, satisfied with my answer.
It’s been wickedly long, these few months. Trying to cope with reality, growing up; it’s all overrated anyway. Being a young adult, my professor, especially Michaels, my manager, and even the frat boys and sororities like Stacey all came to the conclusion that I am childish and need to, well, grow up. Defiance has never been my strongest quality, but this time, I think I’ll take my sweet time unapologetically.
The dorms are filing out much quicker than I had anticipated. Noise grows less and timid, and the thoughts in my head make up for the loss in company. I am alone now, waiting for mom to arrive. She should be here in the next few hours, so I should find myself something to do. It’s been a while since I touched myself. No, who would I fantasize with? Jasmine? Stacey? Carol? Okay, that last bit can really pan out.
None of the women I want to see in my mind even compare to her. They all lack…something I can’t quite put my finger on yet. She is, was, my exception. But she’s moved on with that other guy, whoever he is. It pricks really badly right about now, but still; history.
She move on first, and so should I. I walk back to my room, and make sure the lock is clasped. I switch on my laptop, and give it a while to boot. It’s been long since I did this, once when some kids were trashing our house and dad needed to nab the perpetrators. I see the program I need to install, right there in the old program by the corner of my screen. The background changes from snowy mountain caps to…
The first time we were at a Halloween party. Her face is masked by a feathery version of Freddie Krueger’s face, lit at the edges by tiny bulbs fashioned into scissors. Her drink is in her hand, and her tongue out, licking my green face. I am a zombie cop, shining my badge in the face of the undead. It, we, were cheesy as hell, but her eyes, those sweet blue eyes that shone brighter than a jellyfish, looked at the camera phone and smiled for me, for me in this time. I click on the program and install the desktop version. My phone is on the same network, so it should be easy to work this out via the Wi-Fi.
Maybe, for old times’ sake, I should give her a call. It won’t hurt to finally say goodbye to her, or at least hear her voice after months of silence. But…no. The program is installed and active on my phone. I should change the desktop too. Her face is something I don’t want to see in a very long time.
The program is to ensure she never reaches me. It’s sort of a safety net for avoiding stalkers and creeps. If she calls, the app will notify me, but I will be unavailable. I might not be the only strong one in this, and in a moment of weakness, she gets to me. I don’t want to go back to my own vomit, however Jazzy it is. It has to be mutual; if she’s done, then so am I.
A squirrel will do. The furry critter’s mouth is full of nuts. I like this better than the Halloween party. I think she would too.
Chapter 8 - Jasmine
Two whole months and no cramps. I’m screwed.
Lucifer’s waterfall should have been here by now, and by now I mean long overdue. The months, the longest months of my life, cannot end this way. First, my shield lets me go, on email, and then never calls to check up on me, even to know if dad killed me or chained me up in the basement. Then my dad washes his God complex all over me as his only daughter, and preferably sells me to his associates for an arranged marriage. The only source of comfort I know of, Serena Winters, sees me with another man and switches to the defensive. I don’t blame her anyway, I can’t. She entrusted me to live out my life with her son, and I failed in that duty, my duty of care. And there I was, holding hands with Carl Glenn as he escorted me to his car.
It’s clear of course, that through all this, the last thing I need is…
“I’m going out,” I deftly spew, grabbing my scarf from the hanger in the closet and powering through the huge door.
“Jasmine wait!” he shouts, jumping to the balls on his sole. I don’t care anyway. He can run after me if he wants. I’m too fast for him anyway. I’m gone before he can grab hold of the door. By the corner of Maine, I look back. He’s at the door, fuming quietly. With the patience of a moose, he locks his own and walks back to his study.
The town is quiet this time of early dawn. I don’t expect to see more than a few strangers waltzing around, and a few strays. A ring-tailed cat runs by, seemingly preoccupied by an invisible rat or mouse. Or perhaps just for the fun of it. I wrap my fingers around the leather fabric in my pocket, slaying the cold from my extra bits. The asphalt is home to many a strange creature in the night. There are homeless derelicts, sucking and sniffing at the oddest of glues hidden in the piles of clothes, think rags, covering them. If I could help the outstretched hand of the soot-faced mother holding her bundle of joy close to her right now, I would. I walk swiftly by, boosting my speed to the convenience store at the center of Brook and Washington.
The door dings, and I walk into the bright lights of capitalism galore. Snacks and sugar troves to binge on for weeks are on display. I nod to the cashier, Greg. He wearily smiles back. His shift must be about to end soon. The dude needs his bed. I know what I’m going for, and it’s in the ever clean sanitary aisle.
I get what I need and take my time to walk over to the cashier. The lady is new, a gentle afro rocking her scalp, an old copy of Effervescence in the Night in hand, and shady glasses to boot on her thin face. Timidity is strange. One might think it only dulls one’s social skills, but truth is; it works both ways.
“Hi,” I start. She looks up and smiles.
“Hey, how can I help
you?” Her voice is quiet, with waves of strength hidden. I can tell she’s been through something that turned her grey eyes cold. Her smile though, it soothes the chills down my back. I show her the item, and she nods understandingly.
“Is the bathroom open?” I point with my nose.
“It’s alright honey. Take all the time you need. Here’s the key.”
I grab it after paying with the little cash I’ve had saved under my sheets. It’s the only place I could be sure he couldn’t look through. She smiles and goes back to reading her story. I walk through the pale gray door, and the silence in the stalls greets me. The stall I choose, the last by the white wall, is clean and empty. I take my seat and begin the process…
A minute passes by…
I think of everything that has happened in between. If this is right, and my fears are justified, then there is only one explanation for it all. Carl and I have been only going out for a few weeks. He’s soft spoken and quite the talker, but his moustache…oh lord no. That’s a sign of no good. He is older and always speaks from his lips, his eyes unmoving. He creeps me out to be honest, and I can see how much likeness he has with my dad. They say he’s the richest dude in our side of the country, but I highly doubt that’s his money. No exercise is ever done on his body I’m sure, for he cannot see his toes. Only suits and money make him look good and appealing to any gold digger. It’s choice I have none. Fancy dresses and all the makeup in the world are all dad ever gets me, to look good for his future son-in-law. I can’t help but feel like a pig, fattened for slaughter.
It’s time; five full minutes. I grab the kit and cross my fingers for it. Two lines.
I am beyond screwed.
What the hell do I do now?
*
I have a serious knack for long walks towards the places I dread the most. This time, it’s home I am not looking forward to. If I run away, who will I go to? Dad estranged us from every other member of the family; both sides. After mom’s funeral, we moved far away from any living relative of ours and came here, to this land of broken dreams and solitude. In one way, I can comfortably say I would never have met Spencer Winters had it not been for my mom dying and my dad’s extreme case of paranoia. But then again, I doubt I would be pregnant if the case was the same.
Triple Pass: An MFMM Reverse Harem Romance Page 41
