by Caisey Quinn
“How old were you? When that happened, I mean?” Skylar crawls under the covers and pulls me close. Even after a day on a plane, he still smells of the warm after tones of cologne and soap.
“Um, second grade I think. So eight or nine I guess.”
A few muffled sounds come from the living room so I reach over and flip on the small television that sits on the nightstand at the foot of my bed.
“Did you know back then? What your mom did for a living?”
Appropriately Teen Mom is on television. Irony is a sarcastic bitch.
I sigh while settling back into the covers and against his bare heated skin. “I knew she had a lot of boyfriends. A girl named Sonoma told me in fifth grade that my mom was a whore and caused her parents to get divorced. She called us white trash and hit me with a rock in the face at recess.” The shame from that day settles over me as if it was yesterday instead of nearly ten years ago and I curl tighter into myself for comfort. “I asked my mom point blank what a whore was that afternoon. And I got more of an explanation than I ever bargained for.”
“Jesus,” Skylar says under his breath. “You were just a kid. You didn’t deserve—
”
“It’s over now,” I say, feeling fearful that I might drown in his pity. “It was a long time ago and I’ve made my peace with reality. My mom made her choices, did what she felt she had to do.”
“You know that her choices don’t define you, right? Just because that’s the path she chose, it isn’t any reflection on you.”
The truth lingers bitter like battery acid on my tongue.
I made the same choices.
“Skylar…”
This is it. I should just tell him. Get it out there and let him bail as fast as he can. I’m tired of carrying it around. Tired of trying to shove it into a dark corner and pretend it doesn’t exist.
I’m going to lose him—his friendship and his respect and the possibility it could ever be anything more.
But he deserves to know the truth.
“I moved out when I was barely sixteen. Move in with my boyfriend, Eddie. Who happened to be a dirt bag in disguise.”
Skylar props up on one elbow and watches me carefully. “I can see why you wouldn’t want to keep living here with your mom’s…occupational hazards.”
“That’s the thing. After a few months of living with Eddie, I…”
I can’t. I can’t do this. Not like this with him looking down at me the way he is. I sit up straight and press my back to the wall. Swallowing hard and sucking in all the courage I can muster, I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them.
“Eddie ran girls, too. Younger ones. Some still in high school like me. When money got tight and we couldn’t make rent, he started mentioning how much his friend Julien would pay to sleep with me. One month’s rent at least.” Grimy disgust crawls all over my flesh at the memory. I can’t meet Skylar’s eyes. I can’t bear to watch when he stops looking at me as an object of desire and repulsion rolls over his features. Julien was better looking than Eddie, but dangerous in his own way. He liked it rough and everyone knew it, including Eddie. “He just kept on and on, you know? The power got cut off and he raged on about how selfish I was and how he’d taken me in and I should pull my weight. I was waitressing part time and still going to school but it wasn’t enough. He threatened to kick me out and I didn’t want to come back here to this…”
It seems so stupid now. I was old enough to handle what my mom did. I should’ve just come home. But sixteen year-old me couldn’t see that.
“Julien was the first. He paid well but he was rough and I was scared. I cried. The whole time. He didn’t want me anymore after the one time. Eddie was pissed.”
Now that the worst of it is out there, I’m nearly numb.
“His cousin Mike was next. He was my age and he was a virgin. It wasn’t so bad. Almost felt like I was helping him.” I let out a humorless laugh. “Then word got out, or Eddie put it out there, and soon certain nights of the week certain guys would show up and I’d be with them. Eddie made sure to ply me with pills and alcohol so it was like I was in a fog, watching it happen to someone else instead of actually living it. They paid Eddie so I never knew how much. Sometimes he watched. I thought it was something I was doing for him, you know? Earning my keep and proving myself worthy of his love and attention.”
The shame covers me like a blanket of flames. I feel sick about that entire time period of my life. Eddie was right. I was stupid to think I could move away to college and leave any of that behind. It’s part of me, part of who I am. And I am disgusting. Dirty and tainted, which Skylar can clearly see now.
Skylar clears his throat and when I meet his gaze he looks angry. And somehow terrified to touch me at the same time.
“So…now you know. I got pregnant at eighteen. I knew it was Eddie’s because he was the only one that didn’t use protection. Then…” And here I thought I was over the hardest part. The constricting lump in my throat says otherwise. “We had a fight. I told him about the baby and he told me to get rid of it because no one would want me if I was knocked up and we had bills to pay.”
Every vein of Skylar’s in the arm closest to me is standing at attention. I trace the patterns with my eyes before continuing.
“He called me some ugly names and I told him to go to hell. That I was done and that I was leaving. He told me that was fine, that he had no use for a knocked up whore. That word…it got to me the same as it had in fifth grade. I threw a lamp at his head and he sort of tackle-threw me down the stairs.”
My body is trembling uncontrollably now but what’s done is done.
“I lost the baby.” Taking an extremely deep breath, I force a semi-recognizable version of a smile. “Probably for the best. Not like I was fit to raise a kid, you know?” Shrugging, I add, “Then I saw the sign for community college and I applied there and to a few others. When I got into SoCal, I just started packing. It was literally as far away as I could get and I just wanted to start over. Guess I kind of failed at that, huh?” I glance around at where we are. Exactly where I started.
Long awkward silence stretches out between us.
“Corin, I am so sorry—”
“Skylar, I didn’t tell you that to make you feel sorry for me or even—”
“Where is this ‘Eddie’ now?” Skylar’s muscles are tense and I realize he’s angrier than I’ve ever seen him.
“Um, no idea. Probably at some bar recruiting under age girls. Hell if I know.”
Skylar’s jaw clenches and frustration rolls off of him in waves, slamming all around my tiny room with nowhere to go.
“I shouldn’t have been pressuring you, saying the things I was. After everything you’ve—”
“No. Stop.” I put my hand out and touch his arm. “Not the same thing. I get that you thought I was a good time girl—hell, I used to be—so you were trying to get in my pants. We’re attracted to each other and we flirt. Yeah, sometimes it’s a little over the top, but I’m a big girl now. I can handle it. You are nothing like—”
“I’m exactly fucking like him,” Skylar explodes upward, propelling off my bed so hard I’m scared for him. “You moved across the goddamn country to get away from guys like that, guys who only wanted one thing, only to run smack into me. And there I was at every turn trying to convince you to sleep with me.”
I shake my head but I can see that he’s beyond reach. “Still not the same, Sky. You never manipulated or threatened me or made me feel afraid. If I was any other girl, then it wouldn’t even matter.”
“Jesus Christ, Corin. Don’t make excuses for me. How do you even fucking stand me? Because right now, I honestly can’t stand myself.”
With that, Skylar bolts for the door.
“Please don’t,” I call out just before he grabs the knob. “Don’t leave, Sky. Please. I really don’t want to be alone and it’s not exactly safe for you to be walking around at night…in your underwear.”
He eyes meet mine and I can see that he’s torn. He has all this excess energy to burn and nowhere to put it. He’s angry—at me, at himself, at the situation—I can’t be sure. But it’s there, white-hot anger contorting his beautiful, usually carefree features.
“You should slap me. Or knee me in the balls. Something. I deserve some sort of punishment for how I’ve treated you.”
I bite my lip as if contemplating my options, desperate to change the heavy, depressing mood. “I could spank you. Once for each dirty thing you’ve said to me. So…a lot.”
Skylar stares at me for a long, hard minute before relenting and returning to the bed.
His foot bumps something hard under my bed and I cringe. Oh God. My other dark secret.
“What the hell?” He reaches down and pulls out the source of my shame.
I close my eyes as he examines it.
“Who the fuck are the Gilmore Girls?”
I shake my head without opening my eyes. “Nope. No more secrets tonight.”
Skylar bends to look under the bed. “There are so many.”
“It’s only two box sets. There were seven seasons.”
His eyes are wide when I finally peek at him. But at least he isn’t vibrating with rage anymore. “We have to watch this. Now.”
He opens a cardboard sleeve that I think is season four. “Um, no.”
“Yes.”
“No,” I huff out. “I mean, if we’re watching them, we’re watching them in order. Otherwise you’ll never fully appreciate the dynamics of the Lorelei and Rory relationship.”
Skylar looks at me as if I’ve spoken another language. “Okay, Red. We’ll watch it in order. Whatever makes you happy.”
I settle into my covers, stretching my aching joints from where I was balled up so tight, while the very first episode of my favorite show of all time begins. Layla would do a jig if she knew this about me.
“You good?” Skylar wraps an arm around me and I know as soon as I snuggle into his chest, I’m not even going to make it to season two.
“I’m great.”
Corin looks like a sexy pixie while she sleeps. I’m halfway into season one of he Gilmore Girls when she begins to snore lightly.
Two episodes in, I figured out why she loved the show about a neurotic single mother and her insanely smart daughter so much.
It’s the picturesque life Corin would never have. Coffee and verbose conversations with her mom about the trivial things in daily life. Safety, security, and comfort in a small town. Foreign concepts in Corin’s world. But she can probably relate to the whole mom acting like a kid while the kid has to be the adult aspect.
I should sleep. But I can’t. My girl has been through so much and there I was throwing the one thing she was trying to escape right in her face day after day. I’m not usually one to wallow in remorse for my actions, but this time, I am literally sickened at the memory of damn near every word I’ve ever uttered to her.
She deserves so much better than that. My fierce, strong, girl. Who isn’t even technically mine anywhere except in my head.
At some point when diner guy Luke is bitching about whatever pain in the ass thing Lorelei is doing, which obviously makes him want her as much as he wants to choke her, I doze off into a haze of half-sleep. When I come to, the screen is black and the sun is up. But Corin still isn’t.
Retrieving my still very much asleep tingling arm from under her head, I sneak gently out of her bed and get dressed.
I saw a small coffee shop just before the diner we ate at yesterday. I’m hoping they have breakfast-type stuff too so I can start the long road of attempting to make up for being a complete dickhead up until now.
I grab my phone and wallet off the dresser on my way out before shutting the door as soundlessly as I can manage. Thankfully her mom is either gone or behind her closed bedroom door when I step into the living room. Probably not a good idea to have another half-naked run in with Corin’s mom.
The memory of Corin pouring out her soul to me is fresh and has me scrambling for ideas about how I can make it better, make her realize that we’ve all done stupid shit we aren’t proud of, but that it doesn’t change who we are.
My phone buzzes loudly while I’m in line at the coffee shop. Apparently all New Yorkers get up at the crack of dawn and get their daily caffeine fix first thing.
Katie, my screen says above my sister’s face.
I swipe the screen to answer. “Hey, Katie-bug. What’s up?”
“Thank God, you are,” my sister huffs out. “I left you three messages yesterday, Skylar.”
I move forward as the line does. “Sorry. I was probably on the plane. Everything okay?”
“A plane?” she practically screeches at me. “What the hell are you doing on a plane, Skylar? Where are you?” Before I can answer, she rambles on. “You’re supposed to be here to help me set up in a few hours. You promised. The catering company is running late due to traffic on the 405. The company doing the table décor totally screwed up my order and none of the tablecloths are the right size.”
It takes me a few seconds to figure out what in the world she’s talking about. Tablecloths? For what?
“Skylar Andrew Martin, do not tell me you forgot about the auction. I’ve sent you half a dozen reminders. And you still have to pick up your tux. They close at five.”
There is a lethal anger in my sister’s voice. It’s not a tone she uses often but with parents like ours, we typically don’t let each other down. And this time I have. Completely dropped the ball because I was so caught up in this weekend with Corin.
Fuck. The charity auction. I completely forgot. “Katie, listen to me. I screwed up. I’m with…a friend. In New York. But I’ll get on a plane as soon as possible. I’ll do my best, okay?”
“Do better than your best. I am not messing around, Skylar. I need you. Please get here soon.”
The call is disconnected just as it’s my turn to order. I rattle off mine and Corin’s orders and throw in some ham and cheese bagel sandwiches to go. The barista clearly wants to make my life hell by moving at a snail’s pace. I grab the coffees and bag of sandwiches and bust my ass out of the shop. There’s a stand with a guy selling flowers on the corner so I buy a huge bouquet of exotic flowers even though I know we probably can’t bring it with us. I owe Corin a genuine apology, one with groveling and a dinner that will empty my wallet, but due to my screw up, flowers will have to do for now.
The door is locked so I have to knock several times. While I wait, I shift the coffees to the arm holding the bag and bouquet and use my phone to check flights back to LAX. There is one in an hour if I can just get Corin moving without coming off like a complete dick.
I knock a few more times before I hear Corin muttering something unintelligible from behind the door.
“I thought you left,” she says standing in the doorway like a ginger-haired angel wrapped in a fluffy white towel. Her wet hair hangs down her exposed back and my dick registers that we still want to fuck her very much, even at six a.m. in the middle of a crisis.
“I went to get coffee. And breakfast.” I hand over the goods and her towel slips just enough to make my mouth water. “And these. For you.” I hand her the flowers and she looks pleased but maybe a little confused as she places them in a vase that looks like it’s never been used.
“Okay. Well, thanks. The flowers are lovely.” She sips her coffee and moans as she returns to her bedroom to get dressed. I sit at the kitchen table and focus on inhaling my bagel as quickly as possible without choking.
“Not to rush you, but I kind of have a thing back in LA…”
Corin appears around the corner, still in only the torturous towel, and begins picking at her own bagel.
“What kind of ‘thing’?”
“A charity auction sponsored by the law firm my sister works for. It’s at my house, actually. I completely forgot until she called me this morning.”
Corin eyes me carefully while slipping
her coffee. “I see. So you probably need to head on back, then.”
I stand and throw away my cup and paper sandwich wrapper. “We need to head on back. You’re my date, obviously.”
Corin’s ass is propped against the table and my vision begins to swim.
We need to go.
I need to change our plane tickets.
We should be grabbing our shit and heading to the airport.
But she’s naked under that towel and in no hurry to get dressed. That has to mean something. Her gaze collides with mine and I see a matching hunger there that has nothing to do with food.
“No one’s ever gotten me flowers before. Why did you?”
Her question pulls me slightly out of my fog. “Um, to apologize? For making you come here when you didn’t want to. For being such a dick all the time and for...you know.”
“I honestly don’t know.” She’s looking at me weird, like I’m a stranger instead of the guy she’s known since last fall.
I lower myself into the chair beside where she’s propped even though my dick is screaming DANGER ZONE at being this close to her bare skin.
“You came to SoCal to start over and I acted like every guy from your past. Just wanting to…fuck you. Which, yeah, I do. Badly. But that’s not all I want from you and if you decide to be a nun and never have sex again, I’m not going to bail on you. I mean…that would suck because I think we’d be pretty amazing in the sack. But I realized these past few months, with everything with O’Brien, and the team, and scouts, you’re the first person I want to tell stuff to. Somehow, strange as it may seem, you’re my best friend.”
Corin looks like I’ve drugged her with my words and apparently I can’t shut up.
“And I don’t want to mess that up. So I’m going to behave myself and—”
Corin’s mouth fastens to mine in a scorching kiss that I don’t see coming. Sweet Jesus, she does taste like strawberries. And mint. And coffee now. It’s erotic as hell and I can’t get enough. Her tongue lashes against mine and I stroke it slowly. My mind screams at me to slow down but my raging hard on tells it to shut up.
