Jaden's Chance

by Ashlynn Ally

  “Yeah, I figured that,” Carly goes, letting her fingers barely slip in and out of Justin’s hand before pulling away. These kinds of formalities never were really our thing.

  “Justin, this is my friend Carly,” I speak up, when Carly makes no indication that she’s going to introduce herself.

  Justin smiles politely. “So, do you two know each other from school?”

  At this, Carly lets out a contemptuous scoff. “What are we, third graders? Know each other from school?” Carly imitates his words with a high, cackling laugh. If I were to talk to Justin like that, I’d get a warning of the punishment I had coming if I didn’t get my attitude in check. But Justin barely bats an eye as he appraises Carly with an easy smile.

  “Girl, I told you I’m going to school now,” I explain to my friend in a hushed, somewhat nervous voice, before turning back to Justin. “Anyway, Carly’s my friend from the system. We go way back. I called her to come hang out.”

  I glance at Justin inconspicuously to see his reaction to all of this. He’s too busy gazing out into the water for me to gauge anything interesting though, his expression the usual stoic calm.

  “So what did Jaden say about me anyway?” he says, the words directed at Carly obviously. “Nothing too horrible, I hope.”

  “She said you hate smoking and you pack too much food,” Carly says abruptly.

  Justin shrugs. “Sounds accurate. Hey, I’m gonna go for a swim. You girls coming?”

  I turn to Carly, who eyes Justin absurdly. “Maybe later,” she says, in a voice that tells me she wants him out of earshot so we can talk about him together—girl talk. “Right, JJ?”

  “Uh, sure…” I say half-heartedly.

  “Suit yourselves,” Justin responds, jumping up and sprinting toward the water. He sheds his shirt when he reaches the waves, the muscles of his back gleaming in the sun as he dives in.

  Carly lets out a long, low whistle, watching him the entire time. “Damn, JJ, he pretty. Where’d you find him again?”

  “A party…” I give her the super condensed version.

  “Well, I gotta get me to some more parties. What, were you doing that gig with the wallets?”

  “Yeah, actually,” I admit, realizing Carly knows me way too well. “That’s kind of how we met.”

  “Well, okay?” She gives me a perplexed, one-eyebrow-raised kind of look, like my story doesn’t make a whole lot of sense—which I suppose I can give her that. “Whatever you say. I guess now that you have him, just don’t let him go. Look at the muscles on him! They gotta be gym muscles.”

  Yeah, those are the same muscles that prevent me from doing a whole lot about it when he’s holding me in place and spanking my ass. Of course, I only think this to myself. Out loud, I say, “I told you, it’s nothing romantic,” though even I can detect my tone sounds completely unconvincing.

  “Well, maybe you gotta make it romantic. I mean, I know you’re Miss-Prudish-Jaden over here, always wanted to make sure he’s the one before doing the deed; well, girl, lemme tell you. That right there,” she gestures to where Justin disappeared into the water with her pinky finger, “he’s the one.”

  “Wait a minute,” I say, getting a little annoyed. “You were just telling me a minute ago I gotta be careful because he’s gonna throw me out when I don’t live up to his expectations.”

  “That was before I saw how pretty he is,” Carly says. “Before I thought he was some dweeby stuffy little do-gooder or something. But those muscles, those dazzling green eyes…”

  “Shallow,” I grumble. “There’s a lot more to him than his looks.”

  “Like what?” Carly asks, genuinely curious, making me almost regret I spoke up.

  “Like… like… he’s bossy. Domineering. Kind of a control freak. One time he forced me to eat a bowl of oatmeal.”

  “Oh, the horror,” Carly says with a big roll of her eyes. “Jaden, you would find fault with Brad Pitt. Give the guy a chance.”

  “Brad Pitt is with Angelina,” I remind her.

  “Not now Brad Pitt. Like, circa late ‘90s Brad Pitt. You’d say his eyes were too blue or something…”

  “Justin and I have more of a student-mentor relationship,” I try again to explain my situation to Carly without giving too much away. “I mean, this guy checks my homework every night and reminds me to brush my teeth. He gave me a curfew and a bedtime.”

  Carly gives me that quizzical raised eyebrow look again. “Girl, that’s kind of creepy. But not unbearable,” she adds, after taking a moment to think about it. “He sounds very responsible. Sometimes I wish Billy were more responsible like that.”

  “No, you don’t,” I say shortly. I feel thoroughly irritated now, though I can’t really pinpoint why other than the fact Carly is refusing to see things my way about Justin. Which is odd because even I’m not sure if I see things my way about Justin.

  “JJ, look at me,” Carly commands, all serious now, causing me to automatically, albeit reluctantly, turn to her. “Don’t fuck this up. Take it from me, girl, these things don’t come around that often. More like once in a lifetime. You got food in your belly? You got a warm bed? You gotta a chance at an education? Don’t fuck it up.”

  “Fucking things up is what I do best though,” I say, faking a chipper voice when inside I’m suddenly full of self-doubt and fear. What if she’s right? What if this really is my only chance, and I can’t handle it? “Maybe I would be better off going to Texas with you and Billy.”

  “Girl, don’t make me kick your ass,” she admonishes, a line we often threatened each other with but never actually carried through on—unlike some people. “You know as well as me this whole Texas thing is a crock of bullshit. Billy thinks we can get jobs there, apartments on the cheap. The truth is we’ll be on the streets bumming change the same way we are here. You stay where you are. You got this.”

  “I don’t know…” I hesitate. Then Justin comes back, collapsing his wet body down onto an unoccupied corner of the towel Carly and I are sitting on, shaking droplets of water everywhere. “Hey!” I protest. “You’re getting me all wet!”

  “Silly, that’s what you do at the beach,” Carly giggles, jumping up and shimmying out of her sundress. “C’mon, JJ, let’s go for a swim.”

  “I don’t want to,” I say, indolent and insolent.

  “What, you mad ‘cuz you think I keep taking his side?” Carly reads me like a book. “And now you’re gonna be all pissy about it?”

  I scowl, biting the inside of my cheek while I glance at Justin. He glances at me at the same time, laughing when he sees the expression on my face. “Well, I’m glad your friend at least takes my side.”

  “Some friend,” I mutter bitterly.

  Carly laughs at me too. “JJ, stop being a baby and get your ass in the water. It’s hot as hell today.”

  She reaches down and takes me by the hands, and I can’t help but smile at her tiny frame trying to pry me up out of the sand. “Nope, not going. You were mean to me so I guess now you can go swimming all by yourself.”

  At this, Carly turns to Justin, apparently giving up on trying to get me to budge. “Hey, man, you wanna give me a hand? She thinks I was mean to her because I told her to stay here instead of following me and my loser boyfriend to Texas.”

  “I’d be happy to,” Justin says, scrambling to his feet, smiling and reaching for me.

  “Traitor!” I snap at Carly as Justin gets me by the arm and swings me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

  Even though I kick and yell and pretend like I’m having an awful time as Justin runs me out to the water and dunks me in, Carly laughing at me the whole time, the truth is I couldn’t have been enjoying myself more. Yet I still have the creeping sense I shouldn’t be getting myself too comfortable anymore. That everything can change at any given moment. That was always the recurring plotline in my life. Start to get comfy in a place, and then you’re out again, just like you never belonged there in the first place. So don’t get to
o attached, ever.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  That night, Justin insists Carly stay for dinner. Then, after she polishes off three plates of soba noodle stir-fry and dumplings, he insists on driving her home when she makes mention of the bus. Being the polite hostess that I never knew I could be, I let her sit up front when we all pile into the car.

  “Where are you staying now anyway?” I ask from the back, positioning myself between the two of them with my hands braced on the back of both of their seats. “You said Venice, but…”

  “Oh, you know, that hostel off Ocean Avenue. Me and Billy been staying there a couple weeks now, scrubbing floors and shit to earn our keep. Except, y’know me and Billy. We had a fight a few days ago and he took off on me. Probably staying with those jackasses in WeHo, Jaden, you know the ones…”

  “Uhh…” I hesitate. Carly had so many people in her life she described as ‘jackasses,’ I’m having trouble figuring out who she means. Plus it seems like it’s so long since I’ve been involved in any of that, like it was all someone else’s life, or a dream I once had…

  “Are you sure it’s safe for you to be staying in a hostel all by yourself then?” Justin chimes in. “Maybe you want to stay the night?”

  “Nah, man, I got people to watch my back,” Carly says unconcernedly. “Besides, I got some shit I got to take care of.”

  “Fuck, girl, what kind of shit?” I ask quickly, my guard up now. Carly and Billy have a tendency to get into dealings with drugs, even though that’s dangerous business, especially living in the Venice hostel. Everyone knows that place is sketch.

  “Girl, wouldn’t you like to know,” Carly teases me.

  At the same time, Justin is glaring at me in the rearview window, and I get the sense this whole thing is making him a little tense. “Jaden, sit back and put your seatbelt on,” he commands. “And watch your language while you’re at it.”

  “Oh, sorry,” Carly says, somewhat coyly. “Me and Jaden swear like sailors, don’t we? That’s what happens when you grow up in the system.”

  “Yeah, well, Jaden’s working on that.” He flicks another stern glance at me in the rearview mirror as I’m buckling my seatbelt into place. “Aren’t you, Jaden?”

  “Sure,” I respond, trying to play it cool in front of Carly but appease Justin at the same time.

  “Well, whatever floats your boat,” Carly says with a shrug. Apparently, she doesn’t read between the lines of our conversation, which I’m pretty sure says something along the lines of me getting another mouth soaping if I don’t keep the swear words in check.

  A little bit later, we’re pulling up under the lights that spell out Welcome to Venice in glittery white. Carly directs us down a grungy little side alley until we pull up in front of a big ominous-looking stone building. There are people smoking and chatting out front, and the air smells like a mix of weed, alcohol, and something else—possibly bodily fluids.

  “Well, this is it,” Carly sings, practically jumping from the car as if she were on fire. “Home, sweet hellhole! Hey, I’ll catch you later, JJ-baby, a’ight?”

  I’m getting out of the car myself, and before I can even stand up properly, she grips me into a fierce hug, rocking me back and forth a little. “Don’t fuck this up,” she whispers in my ear. Before I can even get a chance to respond, she’s off, waving goodbye and calling out thanks to Justin for the ride.

  Feeling a bit numb, I slide into the passenger’s seat of the car. Pulling on my seatbelt, I watch Carly disappear into the hostel. I can’t help but think how many people she has to share a room with and how dirty the showers are, and wonder what I could have done to deserve my own room, rent free. All I have to do is follow a few silly rules… but is it really as uncomplicated as all that?

  “Well, she seems very… colorful,” Justin interrupts my thoughts. “A little rough around the edges, but I like her.”

  “You only like her because she teamed up with you against me back at the beach earlier, and because she ate your stupid food,” I say as we navigate our way out of the chaotic streets of Venice. Bicycles pull out from between parked cars and pedestrians crisscross like idiots in the road, annoying me. “And Carly’s a lot harder than I’ll ever be. She once stabbed a kid at her old school in the neck with a protractor because he looked at her wrong. She got a year in juvie for that one. She was eleven.”

  “Jesus,” Justin gasps. I pat myself on the back for actually shocking him for once, even though I never fully believed that stabbing with a protractor story myself. “Well, I hope she’s learned other ways to deal with problems by now other than using senseless acts of violence.”

  “Nope. Just a few months ago she whacked a guy in the head with a rock when he wouldn’t stop hitting on me. That’s why she’s a good friend to have watching your back, y’know?”

  “Jaden, you realize that’s no way to live, right? Having to constantly be in the middle of dangerous situations? You need to be able to feel safe in your environment in order for personal growth and advancement to take place.”

  “Whatevs.” I’m staring out the window now, frowning deeply. For some reason, I’m feeling pretty pissed off, and Justin just seems to be making it worse. “What would you know about it anyway?”

  “You’re in a mood,” he says, slightly under his breath.

  “I’m not in a mood!” I snap back at him. “What’s that supposed to mean anyway?”

  “It means you’re acting bratty, like a child. Now, why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” I grumble out reluctantly, since what I really want to tell him is—everything. I want to ask who the hell this Camille person was, and why his brother Alex had compared the two of us. I want to ask him how many times it’s going to take for me to mess up until he throws me out, just like all the foster homes did before him. But most important, I want to ask if we can ever be anything more than what we are now. Whatever that is.

  “Something’s wrong,” he says. “And you’re either going to tell me or you’re going to lose the attitude right this very second, young lady.”

  I wait for the ‘or I’m going to [insert punishment here]’ part of the scolding, but it never comes. Suddenly I’m not so sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. So I do what I do best, and I push him.

  “Okay, what’s wrong is that I’m freaking hungry. Can we stop some…”

  “We’re not stopping anywhere,” he interrupts me. “There’s plenty of leftover stir-fry at the house, and if you don’t want that, you can have a sandwich or something. So if you think I’m going to buy you junk food, you can get that idea out of your head real quick.”

  “Junk food is better than the junk you have at your house,” I wave the bait in front of his face like a fat squiggly worm on a fishing hook. “What don’t you get about the fact that I hate anything with vegetables in it, anything with weird sauces and any meat that’s not a chicken nugget?”

  “Jaden, if this is how you’re going to behave after hanging out with your friend, Carly…”

  “Carly has nothing to do with it.” I’m quick to defend my friend. “Besides, you can’t tell me who I can and can’t hang out with.”

  Justin lets out a sharp chortle. “Oh, is that what you think? Because last I checked, I was pretty sure I could. Oh, and just so you know, you’re grounded tomorrow, you understand me, young lady? I will not tolerate this attitude.”

  “So? I don’t care! I can leave anytime I want to anyway. You know, Carly’s boyfriend Billy has a brother in Texas—he says we can all go and live with him.”

  “Jaden, that’s enough. When we get home, I’m sending you straight to bed. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I don’t like it one bit.”

  I can’t help but wonder why he doesn’t protest my going to Texas. I also wonder why he isn’t threatening me with a spanking. Is he getting sick of me already? Jesus, what is wrong with me anyway? It’s almost like I want a spanking.

  “
Nothing’s gotten into me,” I respond indifferently. “If you haven’t noticed by now, this is called my personality.”

  Justin ignores me, which makes me much more nervous than when he threatens to wash out my mouth or make me stand in the corner or whatever. Eventually, we come to the house, where Justin gets out of the car, comes around to my side, opens the door, and then pulls me out by the ear. I’m so angry I barely wince, just let him drag me upstairs to the bathroom, where I’m sure I’m going to get it with the bath brush.

  Instead all he does is let go of my ear as he says, “Take a shower. After that, it’s straight into bed with you.”

  “No,” I retort boldly. “I don’t feel like taking a shower tonight.”

  “Fine,” he replies, grabbing hold of my ear again. “Then you can go right to bed. I don’t want to hear a peep out of you for the rest of the night.”

  “What!?” I exclaim, as he drags me into the bedroom and pulls back the sheets of my bed. “It’s like eight o’clock. I can’t go to sleep now.”

  “Then you can lie there and think about ways to improve your behavior, because I’m not putting up with it tonight, do you understand me, young lady? Now change into your pajamas, and get your butt in that bed.”

  I stand there obstinately, sucking my teeth in a face-off. And then I challenge him with two little words. “Make me.”

  He barely blinks an eye. Just strides over to me, throws me down on the bed, and then starts wrestling me out of my clothes. When I realize he’s trying to change me into my pajamas rather than administer a spanking, I begin to struggle wildly.

  “Wait! Stop! Jesus! I can get myself dressed! Get off me!”

  “Okay, fine,” he relents, backing off. “Let’s see it. I want you changed and tucked into that bed by the time I leave this room.”

  Glowering darkly, I stumble my way to the dresser and change out of my dress and bikini and into an old t-shirt and panties with my back to him. After all, it’s not like he hasn’t seen my butt a bunch of times before. Then I flounce back into bed, sit heavily on the edge.