by Olivia Grey
And then, someone like me walks in. And I use that one word she never thought she’d ever hear, ‘pretty’. Hypnotized, it didn’t matter what was said next. She didn’t care about being offended, or belittled or used. Like a tape stuck on repeat, all she heard was, ‘pretty. Pretty. Pretty.’ Bit by bit I reeled her in. One compliment after the other and she was mine. All mine. Until, of course, I enabled her to think that she wasn’t. Eventually, she realized that she was under my wing. Social gatherings no longer glimmered in that same fascinating light and she needed to breathe. She needed to feel like she was in control of something. That’s where Axel came in. The both of them, wrapped around my pinky like a piece of worn out bubble gum, they were so sticky with stupidity that they glued their own eyes shut. This blindness prevented them from noticing that the plan they thought they were planning was just the plan I’d already planned. Together, they were walking into a maze they had no idea how to get out of.
A weekend together! An entire three days without Jemma! I could only imagine how ripe with joy their faces were. Frances thought I had no idea. She was willing to play the traitor of a best friend, who sneaks around with a boy she should have never had eyes for; a boy she shouldn’t have touched without my permission. But it was sweet- the forbidden fruit. Jemma had something that she wanted and for the first time, she could win. She could be the one on top, literally. I’d always known that Frances’ panties moistened every time she laid eyes on Axel, hence the reason she became my best friend.
Axel, he thought he was discrete. He’d always try to make me jealous by comparing me to a decent looking but not up to my standard female. Little did he know, I was past the point of jealousy when it came to him. Whatever he thought, simply didn’t matter. Except Frances. The way he looked at her…that counted. No matter how many girls he pretended to be interested in, she was the one who drove him wild. Understanding the reason behind it all was just impossible. I never asked. He didn’t need to know that I knew. I followed the clues he gave me and I dangled Frances on a hook and casted her in waters I knew he’d swim right into.
I raised my middle finger to the invisible stars-the ones like Frances and Axel, who thought they were shining, but didn’t realize that they’d fizzled out and been consumed by the darkness.
There was a knock at the door, bringing my thoughts to a halt. Through the peephole, I could see his exaggerate features- bug-like eyes, a bulgy nose and that smile that made my heart want to run away and my stomach jump inside out. I took a breath, pulled the door open and allowed him to push his way past me.
“Uncle, I didn’t expect you,” I said, watching him stroll toward the bed, plump up a few pillows and flop his head on top of one of them.
“Oh, Jemma, you’re my favorite niece in the whole world, you know I can’t go very long without seeing you,” he smirked.
“Your only niece,” I corrected him, not making any strides toward the bed.
I knew what was coming. I knew why he was here. I knew what he expected every time I was in his presence, but a part of me held on to the hope that tonight wouldn’t have been one of those nights.
“Your mom never told you I was coming, did she?”
“No,” I shook my head.
Of course, mother wouldn’t tell me. She was extremely comfortable with avoiding such topics. It was easier to let it happen, cross her fingers that I wouldn’t disappoint and then pretend that there was a sense of normalcy to everything.
“Why don’t you come sit over here? Tell me all about what you’ve been up to in school.”
I took another deep breath, one that stung my lungs on its way down.
“Well, school’s great,” I said, forcing myself to remain normal. “Teachers suck at times, but, you know, it’s all a part of high school.”
“Such a pity you guys don’t wear uniforms,” he frowned, “I always thought you’d look so good in a little pleated skirt and…”
His words were drowned out by a memory of him dressing me up when I was younger- pigtails, knee high socks and the tiniest of skirts with nothing underneath.
Uncle could have just about any girl he pleased. With an oddly shaped face with cheeks that looked like they’d been stuffed for Thanksgiving dinner and a chin as long as his nose, he couldn’t exactly bank on his looks to help out in that respect. But money. He had lots of money and girls are willing to do anything for the right price. All that didn’t matter. Uncle wanted me. He wanted me since a very young age and my parents… they let him have me. For the right price. Keeping it in the family. That’s what they liked to call it.
Uncle shuffled closer to me, slid his hand down my front with one swoop and latched onto my nipples, showing no mercy. He squeezed and flicked. Squeezed and flicked. I could imagine him licking his lips behind me; the same lips that were on my neck only a few seconds later. The same lips that went everywhere, down and up, front and back. I shut my eyes even tighter, trying to imagine someone who was less him and more anyone else. I tried to pretend that his chin wasn’t drilling its way into me, causing a pain that paled in comparison to the one my heart felt each time he took me.
Stopping him wasn’t an option. My family’s fortune, it depended on him and thus, ultimately, my fortune depended on him too. Too high of a price? They didn’t think so. For a while, I didn’t agree but I saw what it was like to be a middling and I’d decided that a few minutes of torture was worth it. No one had to know. Axel, he knew. But no one else. No one else had to know. And once I made sure that Axel was as close to forgetting as possible, then it would remain what it was intended to be- a family secret.
28
Frances
We’re close to walking across the stage, gown draping over our shoulders, square caps on our head and tassels waiting to be whisked to the other side. Not, the day before kind of close. Graduation was still months away, but according to Jemma, it was enough of a reason to celebrate and no party’s a party without her two favorite people by her side. Axel and me. We were the worst favorites anyone could ever have, considering the circumstances.
To say that I was madly in love would be putting it lightly. I was painfully in love. There was this unnatural connection between us. When he wasn’t with me, I felt like a nerve was missing an ending, uncertain of what to connect with, what to be, sending signals that weren’t received. When together, I was whole again. Still, there was that one thing missing- honesty. Application after application went rejected, requiring Axel to keep his mouth shut and hang a bit closer to Jemma’s coattail. He’d spend some days with her, just to keep her in the dark about us. Other days he’d find an excuse to be with me. I never asked what they did when they were together. My imagination, however, was always steered in a direction that made me smile. I’d picture them arguing from the minute their eyes met, peace only restored once they’d created enough distance between themselves. In all honesty, I was certain it didn’t quite go that way. Women, just as much as men, need to be appeased. After our second and third and fourth time sharing our bodies with each other, I learned just what sex does to a person. It was like a heroine. Once you catch the high, you never want to be brought back down to earth. And Jemma, she had needs. Ones that I was sure Axel was responsible for fulfilling. My only hope was that she’d be too occupied tending to guests to request some alone time with Axel.
“Over there Frances,” she called out, pointing to a big bowl of punch.
“Got it,” I smiled, carefully lifting the rounded glass and setting it on a picnic table on the porch. “Is there alcohol in it?”
Jemma chuckled. “Yeah, just about a whole bottle of rum.”
“Shit, that’s got to be strong.”
‘Mirian made it. She used to be a bartender before she was a housekeeper, so you can bet that it’s as good as it gets. You’ll barely even feel the sting alcohol usually leaves behind. Everyone will be gulping it down like it’s Kool-Aid.” She laughed again.
I never quite understood how her parents le
t her do whatever she wanted. No rules, no boundaries, that’s the life they lived. Age limits were taken as a requirement, sort of like the best before date on food packages. Whatever the case, I didn’t complain. Everyone was going to need a bit of a buzz in order to deal with Jemma. Hopefully, she’d drink enough to pass out before the clock struck twelve.
My phone vibrated against my thigh, causing me to jump. I didn’t reach into my pocket and pull it out, knowing that Jemma wouldn’t hesitate to poke her nose where it didn’t belong. It had to be Axel. And Axel was my secret.
Jemma would never be able to understand what Axel and I had. Our relationship wasn’t about sex- though we did have a lot of it. We connected on a level that hardly anyone would understand. Axel wasn’t afraid to open up to me; to tell me the things he’d never told anyone. Stories about his dad were no longer left in his head to die. I was the person Axel could be honest with. I was the person he trusted with his feelings. And Axel, he knew everything there was to know about me. Confidence issues were shattered to pieces because of him. It was one thing when Jemma called me pretty. But Axel, he didn’t even have to say the word. When he looked at me, he looked at all of me; he loved all of me. Actions, they say, speak louder than words and Axel truly knew the meaning of that.
I straightened a picnic blanket on the lawn, pushed four pegs in the corner to keep it secure and turned to Jemma. “I’ll be back in a minute. Nature calls.”
“Hurry on then. This place has to be perfect before everyone gets here and we’ve only got another twenty-or-so-minutes.”
“Yep. I’ll be back before you know it.”
I kicked my shoes off at the door and took careful strides inside, avoiding all the balloons that hung from the ceiling. It was a pretty crafty idea of hers- to hang the balloons upside down, so that the entire ceiling looks like a ball pit. Of course, it was her idea, but my doing. At least for the most part. I was the one who climbed the ladder because Jemma couldn’t risk falling and scratching her knee. I was the one who tied the strings and stuck balloon after balloon in place. And, I was also the one who got bitched at when it didn’t look right.
In the bathroom, I pulled my phone out. One message from Axel. A smile approached my face and then a wind of guilt threatened to blow it away. I shook my head in an attempt to remove the finger I imagined Jemma would be shaking at me.
I’ve got good news. Can’t wait to see you tonight.
So, Axel was happy. I could imagine what new he had, but refrained from getting my hopes up just in case I was wrong. Replying to Axel would have been foolish. Keeping Jemma in the dark meant being careful and having my phone buzz loudly against my hip wouldn’t help. I flushed the toilet as an alibi and headed back to Jemma who was busy pressing a knife against her finger tips.
“I’m wondering,” she said, not looking up from the blade, “is it a good idea to have something this sharp, this big, laying around at the party?”
“Um… I wouldn’t see why not. You’ll need a knife to cut the cake.”
The way she was eyeing the thing was unnatural. The way she tested its strength against her skin was even more troubling, as though she was daring it to cut her.
She let her hand up, scot-free, set the knife on the marble kitchen counter with a clank and moved over to me.
“You know Katie, right?”
I nodded. “Yep. Your old best friend.”
“Yeah, her. Well, I invited her tonight.” Something gargled in my stomach. Lack of lunch or jealousy? Jemma continued, “she used to be a cutter, and I’m not sure I want all that drama here, if you know what I mean.”
“Used to be a cutter, as in?”
“Cut herself. Carve random lines up her thigh. I saw it once when I forced her to put on a swimsuit. No wonder she was always such a prude about getting naked. Still think I should leave the knife out?”
“You don’t really think she’ll sneak the knife into the bathroom and start cutting away, do you? I mean, if she makes sure each mark is on her thigh then I’d think cutting is something that she wants to hide not highlight.”
“Don’t be such an idiot Frances. She does it for the attention. Doesn’t matter where she decides to cut, she’s just hoping that someone sees it, you know. And with the loner that she’s become lately, I can only imagine how greedy she is for attention.”
“Then put the knife away,” I replied, only to suit Jemma. I didn’t agree with her. Plus, if Katie really wanted to go crazy and create a bloodbath she would bring her own knife.
“Nah, I think I’ll leave it out,” Jemma decided. “Keep things interested.”
“Okay. So, what next. Are we all done or is there anything else you’d like me to take care of?”
“Hmm. Let’s see. You could do with a little makeup. I don’t know what’s been keeping you up lately, but those bags underneath your eyes are definitely not attractive.”
Jesus fucking Christ, she was something else.
Jemma took my cheek between her fingers and pinched them pink. “Gosh, you’ve put on some weight too. There I was, telling Thomas that there was no doubt in my mind that you had a crush on him. Now I’m worried that once he sees you, he won’t recognize you anymore. Whatever happened to that diet I put you on.”
“Thomas likes me?” I asked, ignoring her other statements.
I’d abandoned Jemma’s diet a very long time ago. No one can survive on an apple and a serving of mushy quinoa crap.
“Trust me, I was just as surprised as you are,” she replied, no remorse in her tone.
29
Jemma
Feeling Frances out was always fun. She’d changed ever since Axel started stroking her heart strings like a violin. She didn’t seem as hot and bothered when I gave her a compliment and she was quite fine with my critique. It was a transition I expected, but still found hard to swallow. Regardless, it was necessary for her to get that steam running in her blood. She could hate me all she wanted, hate was good. Soon enough, it would be time for me to redirect all that fire to someone who truly deserved it.
“I’m not sure I need a boyfriend,” she said.
Her eyelids fluttered, making it seemingly impossible for her mascara to go on right.
“You gotta hold still Frances or you’ll look like someone punched you in the eyes.2
She took a deep breath, holding it until I’d finished lengthening and darkening her right lashes.
“Great. Now pucker up. Let’s make your lips kissable.”
“I’m not going to kiss him, Jemma.”
“You’re not supposed to. He’s the one who should be kissing you.”
“Look,” she said, in a tone I never thought she was capable of, “I don’t have a thing for Thomas and I don’t want a boyfriend.”
Infuriated, she pushed her lips out in a pout.
“Fine. I know that you’re still a little bit touchy about the whole threesome thing, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t have a little fun. The second time around doesn’t hurt quite as much as the first. Plus, there won’t even be any blood.”
“I’m not having sex with Thomas…” she started.
I pressed the lipstick against her lips, shutting her up. Such a beautiful red, even on her. If I were a boy, I wouldn’t think twice about transferring some of that color to myself.
“Whatever you say. Just talk to him, will you. There’s absolutely no pressure. It can’t hurt though.”
“I’ll talk to him but nothing else,” she agreed.
Little did Frances know, her reaction to Thomas was just what I wanted to see. He was way too handsome for her, she knew that. The fact that I’d lied that he was even the slightest bit interested in her as a person- as opposed to what she could offer him sexually- didn’t matter. What mattered was that she hated the idea of getting all lovey-dovey with a boy that wasn’t Axel.
It was a complicated thing, this game that I was playing. There were nights where I sat around, certain that it wouldn’t work. There were tim
es when I thought about changing my mind. Of course, Axel would always do something to remind me that I hated him and that I should continue to hate him. I wasn’t a bad person, just someone who had a situation to rectify. And well, Axel, he was my situation. Sometimes, when a fire is set, other people have to get burned before the true right one is claimed. In this case, the other person was Frances.
“Jemma,” her voice intruded my thoughts.
I looked up to see that she was by my bedroom door, motioning for me to follow her.
“Someone’s ringing the doorbell,” she said.
“Is it time already? Don’t these people know that they’re supposed to be at least thirty minutes late? Make a lasting impression and all that.”
“You’re the one throwing the party, Jemma. No one wants to piss you off.”
She was right about that.
I checked myself in the mirror. Perfect. I’d spent enough on this bodycon dress for it to be nothing else. It was the perfect shade of red, one that demanded attention. Red was a good color for me, especially if Katie was going to splash blood on all of us. She wouldn’t. But the idea of it was humorous. What a party that would be. Outside of the fact that I wanted people to remember me- and not her- I wouldn’t have been opposed to it.
“You look great,” Frances offered.
“I know, right. The shoulder on this thing is heaven. It’s so low, but doesn’t even dare to move out of place.”
Together, Frances and I headed down the wooden stairs, my heels making enough noise to keep the short trip entertaining.
I pushed my hair over my shoulder, ran my tongue across my teeth to ensure that there was no lipstick ruining my smile.
!Welcome. Welcome. It’s so great to see you all,” I said to the group of four who had their arms stretched out with the same horrible looking giftwrap.
Jane, Clark and Amma. Sweet girls. Except Clark. Clark was a guy. A guy who wouldn’t mind being a girl, but still a guy. I’ve got to admit though, looking at the three of them, he was the one my eyes were drawn to. There was something about gay people that just made them more remarkable than everyone else- me excluded.
