Feels
Like the
First Time
By:
Casey McMillin
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the author.
Copyright © 2014
Casey McMillin
All rights reserved.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
Chapter 1
"I was thinking we could start at the very beginning," she said.
I just stared at her in disbelief. She was a psychiatrist, and I was there against my will, so I didn't really feel like talking. I remained quiet for a long time—long enough that she readjusted herself in the chair twice before finally deciding to speak again.
"Your grandfather mentioned that you haven’t said a word to him since you got here. Is that true?"
It was a simple enough question, so I nodded.
"Is there a reason why you haven't spoken with him or your step-grandmother?"
I shook my head almost imperceptibly.
She and I sat in silence for the next minute, and I could tell she thought I'd give in and say something if she looked at me the right way. But I was perfectly content to just sit there and stare at her for the entire hour.
"Jovi, you're a smart girl. I know you've been through a lot, but you have to think about letting someone know what's going on in that head of yours—otherwise we'll assume the worst."
"What happens if you assume the worst?" I asked. I hadn't used my voice in quite a while, and it came out as little more than a whisper. She smiled at me as if there had already been some sort of breakthrough. "I'm only talking because I don't want you to take your little notepad and write a prescription to send me to the looney bin."
"I wouldn't do that," she said. She seemed like she was telling the truth but there was just no way to tell with these kinds of doctors.
"I'm not talking to my grandfather because I just met him and his wife for the first time two days ago and we have nothing to talk about besides how fuckin' weird it is that I'm here in the first place. My dad mentioned his real dad living in Arkansas one time, but I always just pictured him as some old hillbilly with overalls and no teeth sucking on a corncob pipe."
"What'd you think about him when you got to meet him a few days ago?"
"I thought his mustache makes him look like a walrus, but other than that, he's just a normal old man with a normal old wife. It still doesn't change the fact that it's awkward. I'm the weird, damaged spawn of his estranged son and now I'm all of a sudden moving in. I'm just trying to be quiet and stay out of their way."
She scribbled something down on her tablet. "Do you feel unwelcome at your grandfather's house?" she asked, looking back up at me.
"Not really. They're nice enough, I guess." I was quiet for a second, deciding how much I wanted to say. Talking about Earl and Coleen would keep me from having to talk about myself, so I decided to tell her what he told me the other night when I first arrived at his house. "He told me the whole story about how my dad's mom, his first wife, took everything he had, including the kids, and left him. Apparently, she thought she could make it as a singer on Broadway and blamed Earl, and Arkansas in general, for holding her back."
"So, your dad didn't grow up knowing his father?"
"Earl said my grandma left him when the twins were little, so I don't even think my dad remembers him at all. I think he just knew he had a dad somewhere in Arkansas."
The doctor wrote something down, but quickly looked up at me. "What'd you think when they told you your grandfather and his wife were willing to have you come stay with them?"
I made a face that might have come across a little too sarcastic. "I didn't really have many options, now did I?"
"You'll be eighteen in a few months," she said.
"Yeah but that doesn't change the fact that I was alone in New York which happens to be a really expensive place to live—especially when you don't have a job."
"I don't blame you for coming here, Jovi. I think that was the wisest decision you could have made. I just thought it's important that we talk about how you're feeling now that you're here. Do they treat you like an outsider? Have they tried to bring up your past or the chain of events that led to you getting taken away from your aunt?"
And so it begins. I knew she would start in on these kinds of questions, and I really didn't feel like talking about it. I was quiet for a good, long time, considering what I felt like saying.
Then, as if she were reading my mind, she said, "I have your files, Jovi, and I know you haven’t talked to anyone about your experience. It's very hard to share this type of thing, but I want you to know that I only want the best for you. You can trust me."
"What's gonna happen if I don't want to talk about it?" I asked.
"Nothing. Nobody's forcing you to share if you don't want to." She gave me a sincere smile. "But you should know that talking about it is the first step in the healing process."
I laughed. "That's the most fucked up thing about this whole situation. I thought my life was just fine until everything went down a few weeks ago. You have to understand how weird it is to find out that your existence is incredibly dysfunctional when you thought it was pretty normal."
"Is that what your aunt told you—that what you were doing was normal?"
"No, not really. She didn't have to say how normal it was. It was just what we did."
"How did it all start, Jovi? Can you remember that?"
I could remember it like it was yesterday, but I shrugged, not letting on. Dr. Briggs got out of her chair and came to sit on the couch next to me, which I'm sure it was breaking some sort of doctor code. She turned to look straight at me but I just stared straight ahead uncomfortably. "Listen, Jovi, you can tell me as much or as little as you want, but you should know that I'm on your side. Anything you say during these sessions is strictly confidential."
I looked over at her and contemplated whether or not I felt like talking about it. I'd never told the story before, and didn't really even know where to begin. I stared at her for several long seconds before deciding to try to put everything in words.
"Me and my dad barely saw my aunt before my mom died. She didn't live too far from us, but I guess her and my dad weren't really that close."
"How old were you when your mom passed away?"
"Thirteen."
"That's a hard age."
"You probably say that about all the ages," I said.
Dr. Briggs smiled, but it faded when I started to speak again.
"Anyway my mom OD'ed on coke when I was thirteen and a few months later, my dad started to hang out with my aunt a lot. I think maybe he ran out of money because I'd hear him saying things to make her feel guilty about not helping out her twin brother."
"Is that how you ended up living with your aunt?"
"Yeah, one day he dropped me off at her house. He called two days later and told my aunt that he wasn't coming back."
"How'd your aunt take the news?"
I shrugged, thinking back. "She seemed happy with i
t. She took me to the store and bought me some clothes since dad just sent me with a few things."
"Did you ever try to go back to your old place to get your things?"
"I think she tried, but the landlord said everything had already been cleared out."
Doctor Briggs stayed on the couch next to me, but shifted to a more professional distance for us to finish our conversation. "When did she first tell you what she did for a living?" she asked.
"I guess I sort of knew from the start. It wasn't like she was trying to keep it a secret. She was the type of escort who made it seem classy. She had expensive things and it was obvious she made good money. I remember seeing her getting dressed to go to work. She'd always put on the most elegant dresses, and I thought she was the most beautiful woman in the whole world. Anyway, she was sitting in front of her mirror one day, about a week after I got there, and she said, 'Jovi, you could do what I do, you know. You're a really beautiful young woman and you could make more money than you ever dreamed if you capitalize on that.' I didn't even know what capitalize meant, but I had a pretty good idea what sort of escort she was, and I—okay here's the part where you'll probably have me committed Dr. Briggs, but honestly, I wanted to start working with her. It seemed intriguing to me. She didn't force me into it."
"Jovi, that doesn't surprise me at all," she said, surprising me. "I can understand how that lifestyle would appeal to a thirteen year old girl. You'd just been abandoned by your father, and—"
"Don't blame my father. Don't blame my aunt either. All she did was find men who were willing to pay a lot money to sleep with me. I was the one who chose to do it." I expected her to go back over to her desk and start writing a novel on what a messed up individual I was, but she didn't make a move to leave the couch. She just gave me a comforting half-smile, inviting me to continue. "Now's the part where you tell me what a terrible person I am."
"Jovi, you have to understand that none of this is your fault. You were entirely too young to be put into a situation like this."
"Yeah, everyone keeps telling me that. But all I can say is, I was the same person then as I am now and I felt perfectly capable of making my own decisions. My aunt didn't force me to have sex with those men. I did it because I chose to."
"You're not going to shock me by saying that Jovi. I told you I'm not surprised. Most thirteen-year-old girls would have done the same in your situation."
I laughed. "Yeah right."
"It's true. You saw your aunts lifestyle as glamorous, and it's easy to understand how you wanted that for yourself."
"Well, you're the only person in the world who thinks that. Everyone else on the face of the earth thinks a teenage prostitute is pretty much the grossest thing they've ever heard of."
"I'm not going to lie to you. The events that transpired over the last four years were a crime. You know that. You will never catch me saying you had a normal childhood, but listen to me when I tell you this… you are not a criminal. You are a victim. You're a tough girl who's capable of making her own choices, and I understand that you feel like you're owning up to decisions you've made in your past, but Jovi, you shouldn't have ever been faced with those types of choices."
I sat there and stared at her for a full minute before I finally spoke again. "You're like the tenth person who's told me that lately." I paused. "I'm fine with the idea of giving my aunt the blame. I just feel like everyone wants me to have some sort of breakdown about how terrible my life was and how badly I was abused, but honestly, I didn't hate my life. I know that makes me fucked up and everything, but that's just the way it is."
Dr. Briggs sighed and smiled at me. She opened her mouth to say something but then hesitated for a second. "Jovi this might sound weird, but I'm actually glad to hear that you weren't miserable doing what you were doing. And you shouldn't feel sorry that you don't feel regret—I appreciate you being honest. I'm perfectly okay with you never breaking down in my office. I don't need to see tears to know that we're making progress."
"That's just it. You said making progress as if I need to recover from something, and it's freaking me out that I don't feel like I need recovery."
She looked at me for a few seconds before speaking. "Jovi, you've been here for three days and you haven't said a word to the people you're living with."
I stared straight ahead, knowing she had me on that one.
She smiled. "But the good news is that you seem to be over that now. That's what I meant by making progress. It's normal to be introspective during a time when there's a lot of change. Do you think you'll be willing to open up a little communication with your grandparents when you leave here today?"
I shrugged. "I guess," I said.
"How do you feel about starting school next week?"
"Okay I guess."
"Do you have your schedule squared away?"
"Not yet. We're supposed to go by there when we leave here, I think."
"And it's your senior year, is that right?"
"Yeah."
"Your file said you were attending high school in New York."
I cut her a frustrated glance. "I went to school like a normal person. I only took four or five appointments a week, and it was at night or on weekends."
"Did you ever tell any of your friends from school about your job?"
I looked her over, wondering if she could actually be serious. "Of course not. I was perfectly aware that everyone involved would get in trouble. I told you that."
"Wasn't it hard not being able to relate to girls your age?"
"Not really."
"Did you have anyone you could talk to?"
"My aunt." I hesitated. "And my boyfriends."
"Are you talking about your male clients?"
"They were all male, and yes, that's who I'm talking about. A lot of them were regulars, and I jokingly referred to them as my boyfriends." I stopped and smirked at her. "You should probably go write that down."
"I already told you I'm glad you weren't miserable, Jovi. You can stop trying to shock me, because it's not going to work. I think you're an incredible young woman, and I'm looking forward to getting to know you."
"I already told you all there is to tell. I went to school like a normal girl and got paid for sex on the side."
"Do you ever consider continuing to do it?"
I let out a little laugh. "I thought about it. I wouldn't have had to leave New York. I don't know how I'm ever gonna get used to working days or even weeks at a normal job to make the same amount as one night with one of my boyfriends, but I guess I'll have to do it because I don’t think Earl and Coleen plan on buying me a car or paying my phone bill. It's not like they invited me. I just sort of ended up on their doorstep and they were too nice to say no."
"Well, I had the chance to speak to your grandfather and he seems pretty eager to get to know you."
I smiled at her because I knew that's the response she wanted, but I wasn't quite as optimistic about things working out like she thought. I really didn't feel like sharing anymore. The hour was soon up, and Dr. Briggs gave me a hug, which, must be a southern thing because I couldn't imagine one of the social workers I talked to in New York taking me into her arms. It was awkward, but I hugged her back since it took me off guard that she would even do something like that in the first place. She said she would see me twice a week for the first few weeks to make sure I'm settling in, but that we could go down to once a week after that, and then at some point, be done all together.
Chapter 2
My granddad, who recently retired from his career as a train engineer, was sitting in the waiting room at Dr. Brigg's office when I came out. He smiled expectantly under that big, bushy mustache, hoping that the doctor had done something miraculous that made me talk. I just couldn’t make myself say anything—at least not in the waiting room. It would have been stupid and embarrassing for me to go out there and start chatting it up like she'd just unlocked the key to my vocal chords or something. So, I decided to mai
ntain a quiet demeanor until I was ready.
"Coleen called up to the school to see who we needed to talk to, and they said for us to go to the counselor's office," he said in the truck on the way to the local high school.
I had no idea what to expect of my new school. Earl's house was five miles outside the city limits, so it was the first time I'd laid eyes on the place. I'd never been out of Manhattan, and the lack of concrete in northern Arkansas was utterly shocking. We were downtown in the nearest city to Earl's house, and there wasn't a single building more than a few stories high. The sidewalks were basically deserted and everyone was driving a car. I'd seen towns like this on TV, but it felt really weird being there.
I tentatively walked into the high school almost feeling like there were going to be aliens on the other side of the doors. I still hadn't spoken to Earl, but mostly because he hadn't asked me a direct question. Apparently, he'd gotten used to me not talking and just spoke to me in phrases that didn't need answering.
Earl led me into the main office to ask for directions. There were two women sitting behind the desk and one of them knew Earl by name. He talked with her for a minute before she told us where to go to find the school counselor.
He was in good shape for an old man and he walked even faster than I did down the long hallway. He held the door open for me when we got there and I walked through to find a woman sitting at the other end of a narrow office. She smiled broadly at me but her smile grew even bigger when she noticed Earl walk in behind me.
"Coleen told me you'd be coming by today and I totally forgot," the woman said. "You must be Jovi," she continued. She stood up and came around the desk, and just like Dr. Briggs, she put her arms around me and squeezed. She pulled back and held me at arms length looking me over as if I was some long-lost family member. I just stared at her not really knowing what to do or say. She smiled at me and squeezed me again, unfazed by my indifference. "Earl and Coleen are our neighbors and very dear friends," she explained. "My name is Bonnie Cross. My husband is Ben and we have three children, although my middle is going off to college next week, and I'll only have one left at home." She looked at Earl and stuck out her lip to indicate her sadness at the idea of an empty nest then she looked back at me and smiled. "We live in the white house next door to these guys."
Feels Like the First Time Page 1
