

The Egg Shaker

Sherry Wood

Copyright 2015 Sherry Wood

Smashwords Edition

For Jason

In Loving Memory of Brandon

Last time I didn't know  
How was I supposed to know?  
This time I found it  
I know how to scream

I don't owe you anything  
I'm not part of you  
You can't take away everything  
I'm not one of you

-The Last Song, Sleater-Kinney

Part 1

Nevermore

Part 2

The Pink Agency

Part 3

Channel Surfing Brandon

Part 4

The Radio Doesn't Care About Us

Part 1

Nevermore

1

"It's potentially life-threatening and everyone should just stay home," the DJ warned of the relentless heat wave gripping Chicago. My cab driver quickly changed the station and blasted a Brandy song, Baby, so loud I had to practically scream for him to hear me.

"You should have turned left," I abruptly spoke, leaning over the front seat so he could hear. It was 103 degrees for the fifth day in a row so things like having to shout felt like exercise.

"You say right," he fussed, tossing his hand up in the air before slamming on the brakes and turning around in the McDonalds parking lot.

We headed the opposite way through Chinatown. It was busy this time of day with busses and cabs. Kids ran around in busted fire hydrants, darting out into the street like they never heard of cars. Bars proudly displayed signs with drinking specials in their windows and on chalkboards on the sidewalk, along with an important note that read WE HAVE AC!

I would not have AC. Virginia, my new roommate, couldn't afford one yet. The plan was for me to move in and help out and then we could buy an AC together.

I was finally feeling the effects of my motion sickness pill when the cab slowed in front of my building on Wentworth. It was next to a liquor store and really close to the Argyle L train stop.

"This is it!" This time I shouted because I was happy. I reached down for my box of things and opened the door.

"You pay!" the driver shouted.

"Oh, sorry." I was preoccupied with the move. This would be my first time living with someone I was not related to. First it was leaving my parents in Holden, North Carolina and then it was moving out of my cousin's place. I finally felt like I was free. Virginia and I were friends. I would not have someone watching what I did and reporting it back to my parents this time around.

I reached into my back pocket for a twenty, not bothering with change. It was too hot. The Chicago wind whipped up after I shut the door, throwing hot air in my face along with a stray plastic bag. I had my hands full so I just waited for the wind to take the bag elsewhere. This heat was inescapable and had already claimed hundreds of lives. Every day there was a new warning to stay indoors if possible, drink plenty of water, check on elderly and pets.

I noticed the deli on the first floor of my building had its gate down. I wanted to go in there and get a soda. It was a small bodega that carried items like beer, roman noodles and Jesus candles. Usually a big fluffy cat was lying around on smashed cardboard.

"Hey," Virginia met me at the door with a smile and helped me with the box so I could finally wipe the sweat from my face. I went into the lobby and noticed the temperature didn't change. I knew we didn't have AC in the apartment, but it felt like the entire building didn't.

We waited at the elevator, which Virginia had warned me about when I decided to move in with her. If it went to the floor you instructed it to go to, it was nothing but pure luck. Usually it went straight up to the 9th floor no matter what. Some tenants believed it was haunted.

"What happened to the deli?" I asked Virginia as we waited on the moody elevator.

"I don't know," she said, "It's been that way since yesterday. I think the heat spoiled everything in there and they just shut down."

Virginia seemed well-adjusted to all the building's little glitches and disappointments. The heat didn't even seem to bother her as we finally stepped in the elevator.

I studied Virginia as the elevator took us up to the 9th floor. Virginia hadn't gained any weight since her stay at the hospital. It was worrisome, but no one could force-feed her. Part of the reason Virginia's sister begged me to move in with her was because I loved to eat and she hoped it would rub off on Virginia. Maybe she would eat more, love herself more and be happier. I was from The South and ate all the bad stuff like burgers, fries, shakes, pizza. I didn't see food as the enemy. I was twenty-one and had a very curvy figure which I thought was sexy. Virginia was one year older than me. She was tall and extremely skinny, almost to an unhealthy degree. I never had a conversation with her that didn't involve talk about how much weight she lost. I was pretty sure the box of my clothes she was carrying weighed more than her even.

I didn't own much. But the stuff I did own – books, posters and clothes – were all special treasures to me. Someday I would buy furniture and things like that but right now all I cared about were clothes and hair dye. I recently shaved my blonde hair to a buzz cut and dyed it bright pink. The extreme haircut made the heat more tolerable.

"So I bought another fan." Virginia announced as we headed out of the elevator once it finally agreed to drop us off on the 5th floor. "I've been sitting in front of the open fridge all day." I guessed that was fine since she really didn't buy any food that would spoil.

She unlocked the door to my new home and as soon as we were both inside, she handed me my copy of the key. The main room was barely big enough for our two beds, with a little path in between to get to the bathroom and kitchen. The kitchen, which actually seemed bigger than the bedroom, was to the right of the bedroom. The bathroom and walk-in closet were to the left. We divided the main room with her things on one side and mine on the other. While I started to take a few things out of one box, like my favorite book I'd had since I was a kid and my poster of Axl Rose, Virginia went into the kitchen. City sounds came rushing in through the windows. There was a construction site nearby, and a McDonalds. The air blew in the smell of salty meat but it was quickly erased by the smell of Virginia's cigarette smoke.

"What's that?" Virginia asked. I was standing on my bed and taping the poster to the ceiling.

"Axl Rose." The scotch tape did not want to stick. Nothing seemed to work in this heat.

"Axl Rose?" Virginia sounded disgusted. "Really?"

"Yup." Wasn't it obvious? He was in biker shorts on stage with a microphone. Did she think it was Tom Cruise or something?  
I jumped down from the bed, wishing I hadn't. Too much movement in this fiery heat made me dizzy. I tugged on my shirt and went into the kitchen. Virginia finally removed her eyes from the poster and continued to smoke. The poster was a bit obnoxious, with Axl in his red, white and blue leather jacket as he shoved his bulge into a fan's face. We had agreed that half of the room was mine to do whatever I wanted with, though, so I didn't think she had the right to complain. I didn't comment on her collection of weight loss books or her giant poster of her favorite band, Vixen. The fact that we both liked bands from the 80s was maybe the only thing we had in common. I was tired of living with my cousin. I had to make this work.

I took my black composition notebook I always wrote stuff in and opened it, looking

down at some poetry I wrote yesterday.

"Oh good," Virginia said of the notebook. "Let's go ahead and figure out bills."

This wasn't for bills but I was too exasperated to fetch anything else to write on. I wrote down numbers as she went over everything. We'd split rent evenly – 150 dollars each. Then there were bills to figure out. Once we got it all squared away (I barely made enough money at the flower shop to pay for all of that) we knew we couldn't yet afford an air conditioner.

"I'll call my parents and ask them for a loan," Virginia said, pulling on her tank top in an attempt to offer some relief from the heat. We had to have an air conditioner – this was just unbearable. It was too hot to move and it was too hot to sit still.

"We could go out in the meantime – just go out," I said, desperate to be somewhere I didn't just sweat constantly. I couldn't unpack anymore right now. I didn't care enough to.

"And do what?" she asked, taking another cigarette out of the pack on our glass kitchen table the second she finished the last one. I felt buried in heat and cigarette smoke.

"I don't know," I jumped up, feeling restless. I knew this would only make me hotter but I was sticking to the weird black leather stool in the kitchen and I couldn't take it. I stuck to it so much I was afraid it peeled off a layer of my skin when I jumped up. I even checked to make sure it hadn't. "Just go out. Go to Boystown."

"There are these jeans I want to buy there at Magic Tears," Virginia considered. "But I can't fit into them yet. I am a size two – I'm almost a zero. You should see all the girls I work with at Toast. They are insanely skinny and get all the good tips," she rolled her eyes.

I guessed guys liked skin and bones, but I loved my curves and always felt like if I worked at a restaurant like Toast I would still make great tips.

"Seeing them again will give you motivation," I quickly said. I just couldn't stay here – I didn't know how I was actually going to live here all summer but I was a bit in denial about everything. I would just go have a drink and convince myself I could survive. I'd have a few more drinks and convince myself I was immortal.

"Maybe," Virginia said, never one to be easily talked into anything.

"Well I'm going," I said in any case. "I'm going out as soon as I take a shower. I hope you come with me."

2

Our bathroom was tiny with the toilet wedged in between the door and the bathtub. There were no razors because of Virginia. The whole reason she was in the hospital was because she tried to kill herself. She was actually in two hospitals – one to recover from her slicing her wrists open and another for a psychiatric evaluation. When she got out, her sister came up from St. Louis to make sure there were no sharp objects in Virginia's apartment. I forgot to pack my razor so I would have to get one later and hide it from her.

After my cold shower, I dried off, put on a little bit of my Strawberry and Chocolate scented lotion and got dressed. I was sweating again before I was even out the door and smelled and felt like melting ice cream.

"Would you like a quick tour of the neighborhood?" Virginia offered once we were back outside in the baking heat.

"No." I didn't mean to sound so bratty but it was too hot, plus there wasn't much to know – there was the big park across the street, the liquor store on the corner and a few discount stores. The train was around the corner next to a shop that repaired watches with a wooden sign hanging out front that read WE REPAIR TIME.

"So do you have a boyfriend yet?" Virginia quizzed me as we climbed the stairs to the subway's platform.

"No." Everyone thought I was a lesbian because I rarely dated boys. The truth was I hadn't found a boy that interested me since I was ten years old. There were a few guys here and there but they all turned out to be dopes. "Do you?" I returned the question.

"No. It's because I'm fat."

I couldn't believe she said that. I would have laughed if the heat didn't steal the energy away to even do that. I walked over to the edge of the platform, impatient. I saw the silver train approaching like a metal snake, rounding the curve as it pulled out of the previous station.

"It's coming!" I collected the final drops of sweat from my upper lip as I waited. It was so hazy it looked like the train was made of water.

The Belmont Avenue subway station was only a couple stops from Argyle so the relief of the AC was brief. We got off the train and into the crowd of people waiting on the platform, rushing up and down the wooden steps.

I only had forty dollars to get me through the rest of the week. I pondered buying train coins. I probably should since I only had two left. I stopped at the machine and bought a roll and stashed them in my bag before pushing through the turnstile and joining Virginia on the sidewalk. There were a few gutter punks out, mixed in with twenty-something workaholics and some hippies playing a game of hacky sack. Boystown smelled like incense and hot dogs all the time. It was a busy, trendy area with cafes, bars, nightclubs and thrift stores. Boys sported Mohawks or dreadlocks. Girls sported short hair like mine, any color of the rainbow. Some girls also had dreadlocks. We headed to Magic Tears – a cool vintage store with mostly punk rock attire, skinny jeans, leather jackets and Rocket Dog and Doc Marten shoes.

"Hey Rose," Virginia greeted the girl who worked at the neighborhood tattoo shop on our way to Magic Tears. She was usually outside smoking and mingling with the gutter punks. She waved and smiled at us both as we hurried along. The whole time I kept wishing I had more money to shop with and regretted buying those coins even though I needed them to get to work. I daydreamed about getting a tattoo even though I didn't know what I really wanted.

"Rose is cool," Virginia admired.

"Yeah..."

"She comes in Toast now and then, tips so great," Virginia boasted.

We walked up the stainless steel stairs of Magic Tears and Virginia went right over to her coveted jeans. While she was in the dressing room, I wishfully shopped.

"THEY FIT!" Virginia hollered from the dressing room. She hurled those old sized two jeans for fatties over the door and came prancing out in the new, hip-hugging jeans. They fit her like a new layer of skin.

"They fit!" she needlessly said again. Everyone in the store was looking over at us now. I tried on a hat meant for winter. It was cold in here and I just wanted to feel different for a minute. Smashing Pumpkins Spaceboy played and I didn't want to leave until the song ended.

"I heard; that's great," I mumbled. I really wanted to buy clothes but I shouldn't. There was a really cheap thrift store a couple blocks away with cool rock t-shirts for two dollars and all kinds of other cool stuff. I could score a whole new outfit for under ten dollars.

"Joey, we have to celebrate," Virginia told me.

"Yeah, okay." I walked around the store and caught a glance of myself in the mirror. Not bad – my pink and red platform shoes made the outfit. I had on pink shorts and the Velvet Underground t-shirt with a banana on it I took from this guy I met at a party and made out with just so he'd take the shirt off and when he passed out, I took off with it. My pink hair matched the pink in my outfit. I had a round face and big blue eyes. I was short and curvy and couldn't understand why a girl would want to be rail-thin and bony like Virginia. The only thing she ever ate was carrots. Every once in a while she'd breakdown and have a taco, but it had to be a special occasion.

"Where do you wanna go?" Virginia asked as our clunky shoes thundered against the stainless steel steps upon leaving Magic Tears.

"I don't know." I hated leaving a store empty-handed. Maybe a drink would cheer me up.

"Taco Me?" I suggested. Taco Me was a cheap Mexican restaurant on Clark Street between West Belmont and West Addison Street. "It's Two Dollar Margarita Day," I said.

"Yes." Virginia's response was immediate. Air conditioning and cheap frozen margaritas was all we could ask for right now.

3

On our way to the restaurant, Virginia tossed her old jeans into the trashcan.

"So long fat jeans," she gave her heartfelt goodbye. I guess Virginia did look good for people who went for the tall, extremely thin type. She had her hair cut short too, but not in a cool buzz cut like mine. Hers was more of a boyish shag that complimented her big almond eyes.

"So are you going to actually eat food?" I picked on her as we grabbed a booth near the back. Taco Me was festive with colors of orange and red with little Mexican flags everywhere that flapped around because of the AC and ceiling fan. There was an old Wurlitzer jukebox in the back too and I really wanted to put some music on.

It was a rowdy day in Boystown. The gutter punks were out, shirtless and spanging. Most of them hung out in front of Dunkin' Doughnuts aka "Punkin' Doughnuts" sporting Mohawks as they shook coffee cups at passerby for money.

"I might get nachos," Virginia confessed, making it sound so naughty – like she was about to try heroin for the first time. "I might even get extra sour cream – no I can't," she immediately started freaking out again. "I just bought these jeans!"

I was already so tired of hearing about her new jeans. I wanted to tell her to chill out, but she just got on my nerves too much sometimes to care. Instead, I enjoyed my strawberry margarita and looked back at the window where two shirtless skater boys were hanging out, smoking cigarettes and leaning against the window. Their dirty jeans sagged so I could see the waistband of their boxer shorts. They had various tattoos that looked bad as prison tattoos. One of them had blonde dreadlocks and the other had dirty-blonde hair that swept to one side in a big, fluffy Morrissey-style wave. They would talk and then explode in laughter, slap their boards down on the sidewalk every few seconds and overall create so much noise they drowned the Prodigy song playing on the jukebox.

"Why are boys so loud?" Virginia muttered, looking over the menu. I glanced out at their messy rage before looking down at the drink options.

The waiter came around and I ordered another frozen margarita and two ground beef tacos, chips and guacamole. Virginia got nachos but no extra sides.

"You wanna go and put some songs on the jukebox?" I asked, hopeful. I absolutely loved music, especially when I was drinking.

"I don't have any ones and I'm not spending a five on that thing," Virginia said.

Boy, what a blast she was. I watched as the door opened and those sweaty skater boys came in.

"How much is beer, dude?" the one with the dreadlocks abruptly called out, letting his board fall so it gave a loud slap against the floor. He kept it still with his worn-out black converse sneaker. The waiter handed them a menu, not wanting to spend much time bothering with them. Their smell permeated the place, but I did think the one with blonde dreads was kind of cute.

"Boy alert," I whispered to Virginia as they came over to our booth. I looked up at the one with dreads. He had pale blue eyes and pierced nipples and the typical skinny skateboarder body. His dreads were thick and sprouted from his head in an unruly mess. The smell coming off of him was pretty rank. This heat divided people into two groups, the first was people that showered and still had a little body odor because it just couldn't be helped at this point. The second group did not shower and were way beyond offensive when it came to their odor. The blonde dreadlocked boy belonged in the second category.

"Hey," he said to me. "You mind if we join you?"

"Cool," I said, scooting over to the window. He let his board roll under the table and didn't seem to care where it went. He looked at me as Virginia reluctantly slid over to the window so his friend could sit next to her.

"What's up, I'm Daniel," the guy with dreadlocks introduced himself.

"Joey," I said, shaking his soft, sweaty hand.

"Joey – like a boy," he grinned and I noticed one of his front teeth was chipped. "But you're def a girl."

I felt Virginia roll her eyes. I sat there and sipped my margarita.

"That looks good," Daniel pointed to my drink. Then the waiter walked by to adjust the air conditioner, which was rattling and sounded on the verge of blowing up.

It was in me to be polite. I slid the drink over towards him.

"Want some?"  
"Aw, you're sweet." Daniel picked it up and gulped it down like it was beer. It left a cherry-colored stain on his lips. "Yo can we get some water," he rudely shouted at the waiter before leaning into me and softening his voice. "Love this song," he looked at me. The song he was referring to was Prodigy's Smack My Bitch Up. It soon faded out and the cool drums of Smashing Pumpkins 1979 took over.

Cool kids never have the time...

"I like this song," I decided to share.

"Yeah I like this too – but you know who's dope though?" Daniel nudged my side with his elbow and I was ticklish so I smiled. "Awe, you have a cute smile." He practically poked me in the face when he pointed at me.

I thought that was sweet. "Thank you." I wanted to return the compliment so I said, "You have nice eyes."

He batted them at me comically and I laughed some more.

"But fuggin Rage." That was all he said. Then his friend started laughing.

"Butt-fucking rage," his friend nearly choked on his own laughter. Then they both laughed really hard and Virginia rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might not return to normal.

"Fuggin Rage Against The Machine is dope as hell though," Daniel said once their giggling calmed.

"Oh right." I was timid and I think he wanted more enthusiasm. I sipped my drink and looked over at him and he winked at me. I looked up at Virginia, who looked extremely uncomfortable. I don't know if it was Daniel's friend or the food she felt bad for eating.

"Yo, Graham, introduce yourself," Daniel told him.

"I did," Graham said. Daniel looked at me.

"Is your friend, like, a mute?" Daniel's eyes roamed my face. He never seemed to blink.

Virginia turned and looked at Daniel. "No. I'm just tired."

"Tired?" Daniel pried.

"It's the heat," I said.

"Go to the beach," he said, reaching in and grabbing some of our chips with his dirty fingers. "Go for a fuggin swim."

His eyes landed on my drink again as he licked his lips. He wasn't drinking the water he asked for.

"Want another sip?" I asked. He nodded and took a sip of my margarita and put it back down in front of me.

"Your friend's not as nice as you," he grinned. I glanced at Virginia, who was as still as the salt and pepper on the table. She looked out of the window and avoided us at all cost.

"Hey – I know the alphabet," Daniel announced. "It goes A-B-C-D-E-Fuck-U." His friend started laughing again. I wasn't sure to laugh or not so I did. Daniel nudged me in the side again where I was really ticklish so I laughed even more.

"You wanna go put some songs on the jukebox?"

"Yes," I smiled and my enthusiasm was starting to show. I warmed up to Daniel. I figured he wasn't so bad – just rough around the edges. He suggested I go to the beach, which was cool. Now he wanted to play music on the jukebox. He bent over so his jeans were almost nearly down to his hips. He had on faded blue boxer shorts. He pulled his skateboard out and skated over to the jukebox, nearly running head-on into the waiter carrying drinks to the backroom. Daniel didn't even so much as blink at the close call. He pressed the tip of his shoe against his board and it flew up into his hand in one swift motion.

He nodded at the jukebox. "You go first," he said, momentarily distracted by the wadded up bills he took from his pocket as they fell on the floor.

"Here," he handed me a few ones. They were damp and it took a minute to straighten them out so the machine would eat them.

"So you live around here?" he asked, standing right behind me as I browsed the CD jackets.

"Yeah, well kind of...I live over in Chinatown."

"Chinatown!" he seemed to approve. "Hey, put on some Thin Lizzy."

I turned and looked at him, surprised because that was one of my favorite bands.

"I love Thin Lizzy!"

He just stared down at me with a cute, mysterious grin. "You have the best smile. Damn," he beamed. "So you like it over there?" He got a little closer.

"Uh, not really. We don't have an AC."

"Oh shit." Whenever Daniel cursed he sounded like he was experiencing a sudden pain throughout his entire body.

"Well, at least you got cool hair though," he snickered. I laughed a little.

"So why you live there?" he asked me. "Sounds like it sucks."

I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to tell him I was staying there as a favor to Virginia's sister because Virginia was emotionally unstable.

"Well...I had to live somewhere," I said.

He kept his blue eyes on me and smiled. He was cute. My eyes fell to his pierced nipples and a strange tattoo of the words Stoned Sally written across his beautiful torso.

"How 'bout some Garbage?" I said.

"Hell yeah, you play whatever, I'm gonna get you another drink. I wanna fuggin beer." He trudged off to the bar where the reluctant waiter approached him.

4

"I can't believe you gave him your number – and told him where we live," Virginia lectured on the train ride back. She was drunk – more so than I because she didn't eat much of her food. I was feeling a little depressed and didn't want her preaching to me. I wasn't able to buy new clothes. And now we were going to go back to that hot, cramped apartment.

A boy to get to know made me feel a little better.

"It's not a big deal – Daniel's cool." I was convinced he was cool – a bit rowdy, yes, but cool. All the boys that hung around Boystown were like that.

I shifted my gaze over to Virginia, hoping to see her face had relaxed and she wasn't so bent. She still looked upset.

"Why didn't you talk to Graham? Why do you have to be stuck up all the time?"

"What?!" She was flabbergasted. "I'm not stuck up. I guess I prefer boys a little more mature – I mean that butt fucking joke?"

I turned away from her and looked at other people on the train. They were all minding their own business.

"I'm sorry," I said. "But it's really not a big deal. I won't have him over if you don't want."

"Well...I don't know what other options there might be; he didn't look like he had a place to live."

"That's mean," I said. But I also wondered if she was right.

"You don't know the pressure I'm under," she said under her breath. She sounded on the verge of crying.

"What? What pressure?"

"Work – and I just ate nachos." She was really about to cry.

"You're fine." Geez Louise. She only ate three nachos with only a little cream cheese on one. "I thought waiting tables was just bringing people their food and stuff..." She acted like it was a modeling career.

5

As we left the subway station and headed home, I ended up apologizing again. The fire-breathing dragon of a sun was finally weakening, but it was still hot outside.

I walked into the apartment and looked around. I wanted it to feel more like my home; I wanted to see my things. I wanted to at least claim half of the main room. My Axl Rose poster had fallen from the ceiling onto my bed. I placed it on the floor. I couldn't be bothered with it right now. I turned on the little fan in the kitchen window and sat at the table as I tried to work up the energy to unpack. We had a huge glass table in the kitchen which took up a lot of space. I thought a smaller table would be more appropriate. This was another thing I thought to say but the heat stole the will away.

"I like to take turns washing dishes," Virginia said. I could tell she was still upset with me about Daniel. "I did them last night, can you do them tonight?"

"Sure." There weren't many dishes since she didn't really eat – just some wine glasses that were stained with red skin.

I was supposed to work tomorrow at the flower shop, but I was really tired of it. I needed to make more money, and I tried to think of some other job that I could actually get, that I actually had experience doing, when the phone rang. I sat on the floor and answered the red rotary as Virginia went into the bathroom to get ready for her shift as Toast.

"Hello?"

"Hey." I barely recognized Daniel's voice. It was deep and scratchy. There was a loud banging noise wherever he was. I pictured him out skating around some dangerous construction site. "What are you doing?" Somehow – even with all the noise surrounding him – he could be heard just fine without having to raise his voice.

"Not much – just got home – it's hot, I don't have air conditioning." I realized I already told him that and cringed. I didn't want to be such a whiner.

"Why'd you go home? Shoulda stayed out. Coulda chilled."

"I have no idea..."

Ha laughed for a minute, loudly. I wasn't sure if he was laughing at me or someone else. I got the feeling he and Graham were always together. "Hey," he said after a minute, "Wanna hang out?" His voice was more of a rough whisper that time, like he was right next to me.

"Sure...I don't have a lot of money though."

"It's cool, I can come over. We could chill, watch a movie."

I didn't respond right away. He laughed at something else. "Shut the fuck up," he told someone with him. Then he spoke through the phone, "Ae? You there?"

"Yeah. We could watch The Shining."

"Yeah cool."

I had rented the movie two days ago and because of the move, never got around to watching it. It was due back at Hollywood Video tomorrow.

"Yes."

"Yes I can come over?" he sounded rushed. "I'll bring you a pop – you gotta have something cold up in that place."

"Oh, thanks." That was sweet. A cold soda sounded so nice right now. With all the moving I had been doing, I hadn't gone grocery shopping yet. I looked around our messy apartment. "How about eight?" I suggested. That would give me an hour to clean up.

"Yeah cool, yeah. Okay." He hung up. Being from The South, I never got used to how big city people never bothered saying goodbye.

"Who was that?" Virginia asked as she came out of the shower completely nude – skin and bones, her boobs barely there – little mounds of soft flesh. Her collarbone jutted out as well as her hips. Her ass was just a quick interruption of soft flesh between her long legs and back. I felt like the softer feminine parts of her were apologizing for existing.

"Daniel." I tried not to gawk at her skeletal figure. She didn't say anything. She just put on her sized zero jeans and this thin black top she always wore. You would think a top so skimpy and thin would show off her breasts but you still couldn't spot them at all. They'd been pretty much starved off of her.

"Well...what are you going to do tonight?" she inquired.

Should I tell her? I watched as she went into the kitchen and took out her sandwich bag of carrots. Every time before she went to work she ate carrots and smoked one of her cloves in the kitchen. She moved my notebook out of the way.

"I think Daniel's coming over."

She hit me with her cold Romanian stare. Her eyes looked all slanted and even darker than usual, and her mouth drew a straight line of worry.

"I really don't think that's a good idea, Joey. He seems...off."

"He's just a boy."

"What are you going to do with him?" she asked.

"Watch a movie..."

She made a dismissive face and flicked ash from her smoke into the ashtray. She waved her hand around as if it would interrupt the smoke from coming my way. We were right in front of each other.

I watched as she stood up and smashed her cigarette to a little wasted white dot in the ashtray. "Alright well, be careful," she said before closing the door behind her.

6

After Virginia left, I tried to air out the place. I did the dishes and accidentally knocked a wine glass off the counter. Maybe I was nervous. The glass broke into three big chunks. I swept it over into the corner and looked around for the dustpan when there was a knock on the door.

It was only seven-fifteen – he was early. Most boys were usually late.

Daniel came on in as soon as I opened the door. He had his skateboard with him and smelled worse than he did earlier today. I guess he hadn't bothered showering for this occasion. He still wasn't wearing a shirt, but a ripped up shirt that didn't look whole enough to wear hung out of the back pocket of his sagging jeans. He dropped his board and kicked it so it rolled under my bookshelf.

"Hey..." I didn't know what to do, should I hug him? I suddenly felt very awkward. Partly because he was early and I wasn't yet ready. I also got my period half an hour ago, and the cramps mixed with the heat made me feel tired.

"Hey." He hugged me without question. It was a long, tight hug. "You smell like strawberries." He smirked when I politely pulled away from him. "You smell like a damn ice cream store."

I shrugged. The fact that he smiled but sounded hostile was odd. I couldn't shut off Virginia's voice in my head. He seems...off.

"It's good though," he said about a minute later. "You got anything to drink?"

"Um, yeah..." But I didn't, which was why I was happy when he said he'd bring me a pop. He hadn't brought me anything though.

"Damn, you weren't lyin about no AC huh?" He followed me into the kitchen. He was right behind me – I could feel his breath on my neck.

"No." Why would I lie about that? I didn't have anything to drink but the bottle of water Virginia had been drinking. I turned around to give it to him and he was right there, glaring at me. I think he was drunk. He had a strange smile on his face. He just stood there not moving or speaking. He blocked the doorway behind him. His eyes were blank – taking nothing in, giving nothing away. He took the bottle from my hand and squeezed it. It sounded loud – the way the plastic smashed in his fist. It was a sound that never quite faded from my memory.

"It's warm." He dropped the water and grabbed my arm and reached down under my knee and forced my leg up so my knee hit the glass kitchen table so hard it cracked.

"Owe!" I twisted around to get away but his fingers were locked around both wrists now.

"Calm the fuck down," he told me. "Just calm down." He was smiling and his breath was all over my face. I felt everything in my world change and I couldn't catch up. I couldn't move.

"Shh, come on, I'm tryin' to have fun." His face was against my neck. "Don't you want to have fun?"

"Let's watch a movie," I said, trying to get away but he was holding me tight.

Then he chuckled, "A movie?"

"Yes...I don't feel good," I said. He let me go and I stood there – overwhelmed. The heat, my knee, the cramps, his smell...

He tossed his hands up in the air in some snarky surrender and turned around. I looked down at the red marks on my wrists from his fingers. I had to pee and started to go to the bathroom and he came at me and pushed me towards the bed. It was happening. I could not get out of the fearful fact that something bad was about to happen. The realization was paralyzing. He pushed me again and I fell on the bed, my head hitting the books I had there. I was tired and felt nauseous. I heard the sound of him stumping on my poster on the floor before he got on top of me and turned me over and started kissing me on the mouth. He tasted of cigarettes and liquor. He started to take my shorts off. I tried to stop breathing so to not smell him.

"No," I pleaded.

"Shut up!" I saw the anger on his face which scared me more than the way he yelled at me. I froze for a second. He pulled my shorts completely off and now embarrassment over the pad in my underwear took over. He didn't even care; he just threw it all down – my shorts, my underwear and the bloody pad – before getting back on top of me.

"No!" I felt his fingers jabbing at my thigh and scratching me before working to get inside of me. "NO!" He grabbed my arm when I tried to get up and he got right in my face, his teeth inches from my nose.

"I'll headbutt you, I'll headbutt you," he kept saying.

"No," I just started crying. He was pulling my hair so if I moved my head he would rip it out. "Please." I shut my eyes. I shut down. He was hurting me. He grabbed my hand and put it on his cock. He wasn't even hard. I didn't understand why he was doing this.

"You're fucking not doing it right," he snapped. He jabbed his fingers inside of me and moved them around, scratching me. It was horrific. I started to pee a little. He had to have at least three fingers inside of me.

"AHH! PLEASE! PLEASE!"

"Said shut the fuck up!" he shouted, getting his spit in my face when he did.

I started crying from the pain and pleaded once again. "No! Please..."

There was a part of me that still refused to believe this was happening. I wanted to be with that part. I got lost. I shut my eyes and started crying. I kept begging him to just stop. Stop. He didn't seem to hear me. His hand kept moving around inside of me like it was searching for something. My knee was throbbing from being smacked against the glass table. He was still clutching my hair with his other hand so strands were trapped between his fingers. "PLEASE!" I tried to reach up to wipe the tears from my face and he slapped my wrist away and pulled my other hand back to his balls.

"Stop," I said. He was hurting me – clawing at me on the inside.

"You stop, slut," he said. Then he actually laughed.

"Stop – please – I don't feel good..."

"You fucking bloody bitch!" he yelled before hitting me in the face. The hit wasn't that hard because he hit more of the wall than me. Some word exploded from my mouth then. I wasn't even sure if it was a real word. It was more of a sound – a sound so pained and desperate – like a shot animal. I thought he was going to hit me again. I just kept shutting my eyes, trying to go somewhere where he couldn't hit me. I started to move my legs in protest because his fingers were still in me, but I trained myself not to move in case he did hit me again.

The next awful few minutes consisted of him just watching me as his hand stayed inside. He was waiting for my face to change.

"Stop...stop..." I just cried. I went somewhere deep inside of myself. He brought his face near mine and laughed in my ear. When he finally took his fingers out of me, they were all bloody and he showed them to me as if to prove a point. He got off of me and went into the kitchen. I sat up and wiped the tears from my face and picked up my underwear and jeans. Blood ran down my leg as I stood up and put my jeans on. I felt dizzy from the heat but fought off the faint feeling I had because I didn't want to be unconscious around him.

I was dizzy and a bit in shock. I looked up into the kitchen and didn't see Daniel. My body clinched in fear. I didn't see him anywhere but his skateboard was still here. Then I saw him bending over the broken glass I'd swept up. He picked up a shard of it and straightened back up.

7

He wouldn't leave unless I gave him money. I didn't have any money except what I made sure to save for groceries. Daniel sat in my kitchen with a piece of glass in his hand. He just sat still and stared down at it. I think he cut himself with it but either didn't notice or he meant to do it. After a few minutes, he took my notebook I'd been writing in and started scribbling something on a blank page with a red pen, pressing down on the page so hard the page ripped. He tossed the pen down and got up and I tensed up as he came towards the bed with that piece of glass he was still holding. His dreadlocks blocked his expression like a house hidden behind a forest. I didn't have it in me to say anything else. He was very still, just looking at me. He only blinked once. He moved his hair out of his face before turning around and bending over to collect his skateboard.

Please go, I kept thinking. I'm sorry I invited you over. Please just go.

He stood in front of my bookshelf for what felt like an entire day. He was looking at the roll of train coins I bought this morning. He picked it up and turned to look at me.

"I'm taking these, cool?" It was as if he didn't think he did anything wrong. Blood ran down the side of his hand and he still had my blood on his fingernails. I just shrugged and waited for him to leave. I went up and locked the door as soon as he did.

The rest of that night was a blur. I sat around and cried. I was scared Daniel was going to come back. I usually didn't mind being alone, but after that night I hated it. I grabbed a big chunk of broken glass from the kitchen just in case.

Virginia came back around midnight and immediately knew something was wrong. Of course she did. She knew something was wrong before it happened.

"What is it?" she dropped her keys when she saw my face, when she saw the scary drawing Daniel had drew in my notebook.

"Jesus." She walked over to me and hugged me. "What did he do? Are you okay?" I sat there rather catatonic for a minute.

"Joey?" Virginia called out. "What happened?"

"No..." I just said. It was just a word I wanted to keep saying until someone listened. I cried a little longer and she took me to the bathroom. I watched as a water bug crawled into a crack on the floor and she gently pressed a warm rag to my face. I looked into the mirror and saw one corner of my mouth was swollen where he hit me. "Why is their blood on your jeans?" she asked. Every time she looked at me, she noticed something else – an injury, blood. Worry flooded her tone.

I just shook my head.

"My knee hurts...my...it hurts..." I started to reach down and touch it and that was when all the tears came. It was like touching my swollen knee was a trigger for the tears. They just came and I started crying so hard I couldn't breathe. "Hurts...! It hurts."

Virginia pushed my jeans up to my knee. "Oh my god," she gasped. I looked down and saw how swollen it was. "It hurts..." Tears and snot ran into my mouth.

"Okay, shh." Virginia kept wetting the rag with soothing warm water and pressed it against my face. "Okay."

"Okay, it's okay." Virginia held me up and ran the rag under more water. "Come." Virginia put her arm around me and carefully walked me over to the bathtub and sat me down on the edge of it. She stared at the spot of blood on my jeans because I was bleeding through my pad now.

"Did he cut you?" She shook her head, trying to pick which wound to put the rag on next.

"Joey, baby, you gotta talk to me; we need to go to the police." She glanced up at me but I wasn't there, not really. I didn't want to be there. Only when I felt pain – the sting of my cut on my knee or the soreness from his hand – did I come back into my body and move a little.

"He...attacked me." I was still in shock. A part of me wanted to believe it didn't happen – like hearing about a bad movie you didn't ever have to see.

"We're telling the police. I'll go with you. We'll get you patched up and call a cab."

"No." A cab? Cops? The outside world? No, no, no. "No." The word shot from my mouth. I was like a kid who only knew one word so I kept repeating it.

"Joey – you have to! Look what he did to you!" Her yelling – I couldn't take it.

"No. Please..." I started crying again and she reached up and gently touched my face.

"Shh, okay, it's okay. We won't go anywhere tonight."

I kept crying harder and harder. "I'll get you an aspirin for the pain."

I tried to calm down and feel myself in my body – not the pain – but just me – the way I felt before him. But it was not there. I took the aspirin and water she handed me and swallowed.

Virginia walked me over to my bed. "You want to change clothes?"

I just shook my head and climbed into my bed. I put my two books – The Mouse and the Motorcycle and On the Road, in a neat pile at the foot of my bed and went to sleep in the same bloody jeans.

8

I slept through my alarm the next day. Even when Virginia got up to do her morning aerobics, I didn't get up. She worked out to that same Brandy song I heard in the cab the other day. Yesterday? Was that just yesterday?

I wanted nothing to do with the representations of a new day – the bright morning sun, the alarm clock, the responsibility. I wanted to put it all in a box and throw it out of the window.

"Joey?" she eventually called my name from the kitchen. When I didn't respond, she looked down at that notebook before pushing it aside. Her face glistened with sweat. She looked at her watch and reached for a clove. She was trying to be patient with me when she asked, "Are you not going to your job today?"

I just turned over in bed and started crying. The smell of cigarette smoke took over the room. It was hot but I was covered with a blanket. I'd bled through my jeans onto the sheets and I didn't care.

"Joey," she called my name again, her tone shorter. "You should go to the police – I'm sorry about it, but you can't quit your job."

"Leave me alone!" I shouted, throwing one of the books from my bed at her. She stared at

the book for a minute in disbelief.

"Okay," she gasped. She put her cigarette out in the ashtray and left the book on the floor "You can't take this out on me – I'm the one that warned you," she lectured.

I just wanted her to shut up. Go to the police? Go tell strange men with guns about what Daniel did to me? None of this seemed fair. I wanted to hide from memories, not talk to fucking cops.

Virginia got up and went into the closet to get dressed. "Okay listen, I'm working lunch shift today. When I get home...we should talk. Make sure you keep the door locked."

I stayed in bed long after she left. I felt warm blood ooze out of me and collect on the dried crusty blood that had soaked my thighs. I wanted to completely bleed out. I reached over for an aspirin by my bed and went back to sleep. Sleep was the only thing that seemed to care enough to rescue me from reality, at least for a little while. Occasionally the stupid phone would ring but I didn't answer it. Daniel had my phone number. Or maybe it was my boss wondering what the heck happened.

Virginia came home around four o'clock, waking me up and hurling me back into the nightmare that was my reality. How could I be so stupid? To invite someone over like that? I didn't know him. I hated myself.

I was lightheaded and very hungry but I wasn't going to let myself eat. Maybe I could be a size zero too. Then I could just get skinnier and skinnier until I was gone. Nothing but a spot of blood left on the bed.

"Okay Joey," Virginia said as she opened the fridge. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do – the truth is you're starting to smell. It's the blood..."

I got up, whipped the blanket off of me and limped into the bathroom. My knee was so swollen and hurt even more than before. My rag was warm and heavy with blood from yesterday. I'd also cut my arm because that piece of glass I kept in case Daniel came back was still in my bed.

I finally threw away the old maxi pad and took out a fresh one. I didn't bother wiping the blood from my thighs. My face was swollen – my mouth puffed up from being hit and my eyes were practically swollen shut from crying. It hurt when I peed because Daniel had scratched me down there. I started crying in the bathroom.

"Joey?" Virginia knocked on the door. I wished she'd call me a different name. She kept knocking and eventually she went into the kitchen.

"You need to eat," she said when I went back to my bed. "You have to eat," Virginia nagged. I was so sore and tired and just wanted to sleep and stay asleep. It was funny hearing Virginia tell someone else they had to eat, but I didn't have it in me to laugh.

"I picked up some things from the store – things for you. Spaghetti, hot dogs – what would you like?"

"No," I just said.

"I'm not letting you sleep anymore," Virginia said. She turned on the TV. "You're going to get up – you have to face things."

"Face what?" I blurted, crying again. My eyes hurt from crying. "I can't..."

"Yes you can." I had to admit her confidence in me had a slight effect on me sitting up in bed again.

"Listen," she went on, "I'm going to give you a couple of days to pull yourself together – and then I think you should find another job. You didn't like that job anyway." She sounded hopeful. She sat in her chair next to the spot on the table where Daniel had slammed my knee. She looked down at the crack but didn't say anything.

"Do you want to go to the doctor and have your knee looked at?" she asked. She was trying to help – she didn't know how to handle this. I knew that, but I was still in shock. Plus walking now was quite a task with my knee hurt.

"No. I don't want to go anywhere."

"Joey..." she started until I interrupted her.

"Can you stop...saying my name, please."

I shut my eyes, and finally I was able to sleep.

When I woke up, Virginia was in bed reading. She glanced over at me.

"Hey," she said. Her tone wasn't as harsh as before. She didn't sound like she was about to suggest what I should do tomorrow or that I needed to go to the cops. She didn't sound like she was about to say, "I told you so," when it came to my stupid decision to invite Daniel over.

All she said was, "Are you okay?"  
I sat up and nodded.

"At least drink some water, eat some carrots?"

"I'll take some water," I said. She went into the kitchen and took out a bottle of Evian.

"Hollywood Video left a message about a movie." I knew what it was but I didn't say anything. "I'll return it tomorrow," she just said.

I cringed when I heard the plastic water bottle crumple in Virginia's hand like it did in his dirty hand. She glanced down at that notebook. I got up and went over to it. I'd never seen anything more frightening than the picture Daniel had drawn. It was a drawing of a woman screaming at someone. Her mouth and eyes were wide open and she had big red hair, which he'd drawn in big angry red circles that ran off the page. When he did the hair, the red ink also tore through the page. Above it, he'd scribbled the word "Stepmom."

9

Two months went by. I wouldn't say things got better, but they changed a little. I had another meltdown in September, when I was cleaning the apartment and found Daniel's ripped up t-shirt. Virginia must have known what it was because she quickly took it from me and threw it away. I managed to go back out and do things in the city. I didn't do anything too crazy – I might grab something to eat here or there. Virginia and I went grocery shopping together and sometimes I ventured to Boystown to buy clothes.

By October, I finally had a new job. The air was cool and cleansing. I never went to the police about Daniel, but I did start going to therapy. It didn't really help me much, especially when my therapist started giving me Prozac. Why should I have to take something? I felt like she was trying to fix me. I wasn't the one that raped somebody. I didn't take the Prozac. I just put it up in the cupboard to rot. I got an office job at this place on Clark Street called Paper Cut. The job meant absolutely nothing to me, which was kind of why I liked it. I sat at a small desk in a small room with four other people just calling up businesses and asking the same questions: Who do you get your paper supply from? Are you completely satisfied with your paper supplier? May I take a few minutes to tell you about our special monthly offer? I am sure you will save more money with us – Paper Cut – than you do with your current paper supplier.

The words meant nothing. They just fell from my lips in a strange, detached tone of cheeriness. I made decent money but I wasn't really doing much with it. I didn't go out anymore. I just went to work and went back home and gave Virginia any money I owed her for bills. Everyone said I was doing great – but I just wasn't there. I didn't even listen to music anymore. I didn't like sounds of any kind – especially the loud banging sound from the construction site behind our apartment building and the yelling of teenagers when I got on the train as school let out. I hated anything jarring. Daniel was jarring.

Paper Cut was a very tiny office above a dentist office. It didn't feel like it had been there for very long nor did it feel like it was going to prosper. I didn't care. At least the big plant in the middle of the room was prospering. If it got any bigger it would be impossible for anyone to move from their cubicle to the water cooler. When our boss Pete watered it, the entire little office smelled of wet dirt.

One day I went to work and went straight to my desk like I always did. I sat down and started to put on my headset and repeat the same thing for the next five hours when I and noticed a black egg shaker setting there, halfway hidden under some papers. I didn't even know what it was. I had no idea who put it there. It was the most peculiar little thing.

I looked around the room at the three people working that day. If I had to guess who left me the egg shaker, I'd say Brace. He was tall and dressed in dirty jeans and a black t-shirt. On other days he wore a nice cream-colored shirt with black leather pants, but it was always one of the two outfits. Both outfits showed off his nice lean physique. Today was a shirt and jeans day. He had dreadlocks, but they weren't as messy as Daniel's. They were a little longer, down to his shoulders. He had sideburns and deep brown yes. He had the cutest pug nose that was slightly crooked with one nostril just a few inches higher than the other. He had a black star tattoo on his right arm, right on his sexy drummer muscle. I was a sucker for brown eyes. My very first crush had brown eyes. Brace had body odor that was a little intense, like he only showered once a week. I knew he played drums in a band so maybe he never bothered showering afterwards. To be honest, the shameless robust scent of him turned me on a bit. He said hey to me one day at the water cooler and I muttered a hello back and quickly returned to my desk. He had a very pleasant voice, which was why he did so well pushing paper off to businesses. He was subtle, not intrusive, and incredibly patient whenever someone he called went on a long rant about paper. I could listen to him reply, "I understand," for the rest of my life.

As I picked up the egg shaker, it made that awesome shaking sound like it was full of little bits of something – I imagined the tiny pieces were broken diamonds – pretty broken diamonds inside a little black egg. The sound was small and yet wondrous. It calmed me down and excited me all at once.

So who gave me this cute little treasure? No one had given me a gift in a very long time.

I tried to see Brace but that insane plant was in the way and I felt like I was trying to see on the other side of a jungle. Then Pete caught me awkwardly peeping up over the plant to spy on people. I sank back down and picked up my phone and went on about my work. Pete was a cool guy who liked to take his employees out for drinks on Fridays, but at work he could be a bit intense. Every Monday we had a meeting and he said pretty much the same thing: "It's vital that Paper Cut starts bringing in more funds so every day I need you guys on the phone constantly, pounding out calls – every single call is a chance to prosper."

I felt like Pete was a bit on edge lately so I made sure to stay on the phone and give my little speech as he got up and went to the water cooler. Once he went out to the snack machine though, I got wrapped up in the mystery of the egg shaker again.

My eyes widened as Brace stood up. He was really tall and skinny. His dreadlocks came down to his shoulders. My eyes followed his dreadlocks down to his nice muscular arms and the hair sticking out under his armpits. He was always drinking water. He went over to the water cooler and glanced at me and gave me a sweet little smile before he sat back at his desk. Nothing about the smile let me know that he gave me the egg shaker. But I didn't think John, the other guy working today, had given it to me. He was about forty years old and only talked to Pete. He ignored everyone else in the office and carried a briefcase around with him like he was a very important person. Maybe he wanted to be and maybe he strived to be but it just never worked out.

Brace got up again and went to say something to Pete once Pete returned to his desk with a packet of cheese and peanut butter crackers. I couldn't hear all of what he was saying, but I heard Pete say something about a limo. Brace went back to his desk and the day dragged on until five o'clock finally arrived. I took my time gathering my things. I was never really in a hurry to get home. Things between me and Virginia were good but not warm. She had her own friends and I didn't go out ever. I stayed in bed and read a lot.

"Don't forget the egg shaker." Brace's nice voice poured over my desk and his carnal smell traveled up my nose. He reached for the egg shaker and shook it in my ear. It was such a delightful sound and brought a smile to my face even if I didn't feel like smiling.

"So it was you," I smiled without looking up at him. I didn't trust anyone and trouble always started with eye contact.

"Yeah. I have a ton," he let me know. "And...I don't know...your desk doesn't have anything fun on it." He looked around, his nice warm chocolate-brown eyes jumping about as he checked out my boring desk.

"Yeah, I know." I didn't know what to say. I wanted him there but I didn't.

"It makes me happy to have things on my desk that have to do with me," he said.

"Maybe I just don't want..." I started to say something but stopped. "No, you're right."

"Okay, well, enjoy that." He pointed to the egg shaker and started to leave but then he looked down at me again and my eyes slowly traveled up his slender body, over the bulge in his jeans to his nice jaw line.

"You like music right?" he asked. "Music is everything, I'm a musician," he politely gestured to his chest. "Drummer." He said that like his name was Drummer.

"I know," I said. I wasn't speaking up and wondered if he heard me. The office was empty now – just us and the plant, which I was sure was a monster and could hear us and might even talk soon too. "I heard you say it once." I wish I had something to say about myself but I really didn't. I was cut off from myself, and I didn't want to be reminded of anything about me. I didn't write poetry anymore. I didn't have any friends. That was why I didn't have anything on my desk. I was gone.

I collected my things, slipping the egg shaker in my tote bag. Brace waited for me and we walked out together towards the crappy elevator at the end of the hall.

"What bands do you like?" he asked.

"Not Prodigy," I stated. "Anyone else."

He gave a little laugh in agreement. "Yeah, Prodigy's awful." I liked the way he walked, slipping his hands into the back pocket of his jeans.

"I like Deftones." I said. "Loud Lucy...Garbage...Veruca Salt." Once I started naming bands I liked, I couldn't stop. Music was my friend – I realized I shouldn't have just abandoned my friend like that. "Um, I really like Guns N Roses a lot too."

"Oh fuck yeah," he laughed excitedly and took one hand out of his pocket and moved it around. "My band, Cannibal Island, we are heavy into GnR." Okay, maybe I could get over the terrible name of his band. We waited together for the elevator.

"Oh crap – forgot my drum sticks – hang on." He ran back into the office and I waited. When he came back out, my eyes drifted down his jeans to his black combat boots.

"You have band practice now?" I asked once he was standing next to me.

"Yeah, well not right away – actually a few people from work are heading over to Sons on Clark – you know, the pool hall?"

"Mmhm." I didn't want to go out. I didn't know what to say.

"Wanna come?" Brace asked when I didn't say anything.

"I should go home," I just said.

"Okay." Brace was very nice and didn't seem hurt by me not going with them.

"I hate elevators," I said. It was not much, but it felt like a little piece of information I'd given Brace about myself. He glanced down at me. He had a very nice smile and a certain ease about him.

"We could take the stairs – it wouldn't be unheard of."

I just shrugged.

"It would give us a chance to talk more," he said.

I wasn't so sure if I wanted to talk more. I didn't have much to say these days. The elevator door opened and I got in.

10

I slept with the egg shaker. Every night before I went to sleep, I'd shake it next to my ear and let that awesome sound swallow my world up. It made any other sounds like the sirens going off in my neighborhood or Virginia's stupid aerobics mix tape sound fuzzy. I'd put it under my pillow and in the morning, I dug it out and shook it again. I took it with me everywhere. I slept right next to it so when I opened my eyes, it was the first thing I saw. It was my little friend.

I also took Brace's advice and put a few things on my desk at work. I put my copy of The Mouse and the Motorcycle on it as well as a picture of Shirley Manson, lead singer of the band Garbage. I also started finding little presents on my desk at least once a week. Brace would place them under my papers or somewhere else hard to find. It was like going on some scavenger hunt, but I always found something by the end of the day he left there. One day he left me a mix tape and shyly approached me later on in the day to talk about it.

"That's a tape of songs I like and you like. It's a cool way...to get to know each other," he said of the tape, leisurely pointing at it. "Like there's some rare live songs from Guns N Roses on there. Deftones...some b-sides, see," he politely took the tape from my hand and turned it over and showed me.

"If Only Tonight We Could Sleep," I read the name of one of the songs out loud. He'd taken the time to write the names of the songs and the artists on the j-card.

"Yeah, there's some live stuff too." He gave me the tape back and hung out by my desk. "Loud Lucy..." he sounded pleased with himself as he pointed out the bands I told him I liked. Today he was wearing that nice cream-colored shirt and his black leather pants. I allowed myself three seconds of staring at his bulge. Wow.

"What's this?" he had no problem rummaging through things on my desk. I liked the fact that he was interested in me. He picked up my cherished book, The Mouse and the Motorcycle.

"What is this?" he smiled. "A children's book?" he didn't ask in an insulting manner, just curious.

"It was my favorite when I was little."

He read the description on the back. "Oh cool." He flipped through it.

"It's like...about a boy who befriends a mouse because they both like...motorcycles." The words slowly left my lips.

"That's really cool."

"I like how...imaginative it is...adventurous."

He placed it back on my desk exactly where it had been.

"Thank you for the tape...it's really sweet." I could tell the way his cheeks puffed out and his lips were shut tight that he wanted to say something. He was going to ask me out. I was not ready.

"Um..." he leaned on my desk, putting his hand on it so his fingers spread apart. "So I'm having this party...soon. It's to celebrate my band's new record. I wanted to invite you."

"Oh...okay."

He looked at me, trying to fight off any doubt. "Does that...is that a yes?" He pointed at me with his index finger. His nervous mannerisms were cute.

"When is it?"

"Oh, sorry," he smiled. "Halloween – our fuckin' favorite time of the year. We're renting a limo, it's gonna be badass. My birthday is, like, the next week so we're celebrating a bunch of stuff. And they're playing our CD at Wax Trax." I could tell he didn't like to brag about himself but he also carried a certain confidence about himself.

"Wow...that's really cool. How old...are you turning?"

"Twenty-four."

I gave him a smile and hopefully he knew I was genuinely happy for him. He seemed very excited, as he should be. He put his hands on the edge of my cubicle and leaned backwards. I watched his nice shirt rise and saw a trail of hair that vanished under his leather pants.

"Um..." he started to say something when Pete's voice shot across the epic plant.

"Back to work guys!"

"Okay well," Brace tapped my desk with his hand. "Let me know."

11

The second that changed 4:59 pm to 5 pm was the second I jumped from my desk to head for the train. I just didn't know what to say to Brace. He was nice and he was very attractive but I just wasn't ready.

I stood on the platform of Belmont Avenue and put the tape he made into my walkman and put the headphones over my ears. Brace had replaced the silence that gripped my life after Daniel with music and the egg shaker. There just didn't seem a right way to thank him for such a great thing and saying no to him if he asked me out seemed so mean.

I loved every single song on the tape. It started with Night Train by Guns N Roses, a kickass song which really made me feel better. The loud guitars and drums and Axl's pure don't-give-a-fuck attitude started to pull me up from my down in the dumps mood I'd been trapped in. I turned it up and up until it couldn't get any louder, until it was so loud the person next to me could hear the crazy static from the cheap headphones. I didn't read the j-card to see what was next because I wanted it to be a surprise. Night Train was followed by more Guns N Roses to keep the mood steady and then it switched to Garbage and then Deftones. On the other side were a lot of songs from cool Chicago bands like Smashing Pumpkins, Red Red Meat and Loud Lucy.

I wanted to go back to work and find him and hug him for this tape. I would definitely let him know tomorrow. I thought about that party he invited me to. I should go. Maybe I would. Halloween was my favorite holiday. I loved it. I wondered if it showed in my eyes when I didn't let him know. I didn't like going out and I didn't know how to explain any of it to Brace. Going out was how I met Daniel.

Home was getting stranger and stranger because Virginia was becoming unstable again. She was taking medication for her chemical imbalance and it had odd side effects. A lot of times I'd catch her just sitting at the kitchen table, staring down at it. Eventually her big eyes would lift and look at me and she would ask me when I came home even though I'd been home for hours, even having a conversation with her since I got back. The meds also made her skin itch and she scratched herself constantly. Every night before she went to bed she wrapped her hands up in plastic wrap and then she put socks over her hands to keep from clawing away at herself. It looked funny and a little scary at night because she would also sleepwalk. She'd warned me that she did it before, but I never actually saw it until last night. I woke up to a noise and was terrified it was Daniel. The vision of him blocking me in the kitchen and staring at me with those serpentine eyes of his never quite faded. It was a strange relief to find it was Virginia making the racket. She was in the kitchen and then she turned around, her arms straight out in front of her, looking mummified in the wrappings and socks. She came right over to my bed, mumbling nonsense. I just put the egg shaker to my ear and shook it until she stopped with her strange zombie mumbling and went back to sleep.

12

Halloween was approaching and I still hadn't decided if I was going to go to Brace's party. He still made me awesome mix tapes though. Nothing seemed to upset him or keep him from being my friend. One Friday I went into work and found a toy motorcycle on my desk with a toy mouse sitting on it. I laughed so hard I nearly cried.

"Like the book," he came by my desk at his usual time of day to explain his gift.

"I know." I looked up at him and allowed my eyes to stay on him longer than usual. He had warm, kind eyes. They were not empty. There were searching. Brace was nice. Pete was aware something was starting to develop between us but never approached the issue. When work was over, everyone happily put on their jackets and got ready for a fall Friday night out in the city. I kept urging myself all day to go out, have fun. Open a window in your life before you suffocate.

Pete whipped around the gigantic plant, putting his fall coat on.

"Goin' to Sons on Clark if you wanna come along," Pete invited me, slipping his arms into the sleeves of his coat. He sounded doubtful because I never went.

"Yeah, I'll go."

Brace looked so pleasantly surprised. He smiled as I put the egg shaker in my bag before reaching up for my coat on the coat rack that was a bit too tall for me to manage.

"I got it," he offered. Brace was so much taller than me or anyone else here. He was about 6'2. He easily pulled my jacket off the hook and handed it to me. Then he started to get the scarf nearby. "This yours?" he assumed, already handing it to me. It wasn't mine but I took it anyway.

I smiled at him and we walked out together.

"So was it the mouse and the motorcycle?" he joked, wondering what made me finally cave and go out tonight.

"I want to go. You're so nice."

He smiled and I wasn't sure if guys thought that was a compliment or not.

"Do you play pool?" Brace asked me as we headed up Clark Street to the dive bar.

"I would like to...I've always wanted to," I shared. "My dad actually played pool. He used to play pool for money."

"No way," Brace was amused. "Maybe it's in your blood."

"Maybe." That made me excited. Maybe there was something I had yet to discover about myself. Brace and I were walking side by side but not that close. I felt like he wanted to hold my hand. All of the sudden he started giggling and I didn't know at what. I didn't like it because Daniel would laugh at nothing all of the sudden.

"What?" I asked.

"It's cute how you take the egg shaker around with you," he said. "That's all." His voice was nice and soft. I never wanted to be around anything loud again. I never wanted anyone to yell at me like Daniel did. I could still see the vulgar anger on his face right before he hit me. I had to take a minute, shut my eyes and learn how to breathe all over again when I thought about it. I had to feel the cold, crisp new day against my skin and the hard ground beneath my feet.

Brace took my hand just then. I didn't fight it, I squeezed it back and we waited to cross the street together. We went through the unmarked white door of Sons on Clark. The bar was a big space with a pool table in one room, surrounded by burgundy leather couches. In the other room was the bar, bar stools and the restrooms. The family-owned bar had three beers on tap – one of them so happened to be my favorite – a spicy rich ale called Wolf's Tooth Ale. The other two tap options were Sam Adams and Budweiser. There was a Blondie poster on the wall and Rolling Stones blared from the speakers.

Brace got us beers and took them over to the pool table.

"Wolf's Tooth is awesome," he said as we sat on the comfy broken-in leather couch.

"I know," I smiled.

"Wisconsin brewed," he tossed the fact out there before placing his beer on the table in front of us. "Gotta put music on the jukebox," he said with great urgency. "I'll play stuff you like."

I sipped my beer and for the first time in months, I felt safe – good even. My favorite Garbage song, Only Happy When It Rains, came on. Brace spent five minutes at the jukebox, flipping back and forth through the jackets. It was cute how seriously he took it.

"I live for the day my music's on that jukebox," Brace said once he returned to the couch. "Yeah, that would be cool to have your stuff on a jukebox."

"No," he grazed my hand with his – it was a quick stroke of warmth. My body had a crazy response to it. I got wet for the first time in almost three months. My eyes took him in at their leisure in this safe spot of neon lights and casual low voices. Safe. Keep me here.

"That jukebox," he stated, heartfelt, as he pointed to where he just was with his beer. "This place has heart and soul..." he turned and pointed to the silver-haired bartender. "See that dude?"

"Yes..."

"His name is Tom Holgarty and three years ago his son died – killed by a drunk driver. Tom wanted to close this place afterwards – you know, because he was afraid people would leave and drive drunk home. I said no, no way, you can't let one person's horribleness ruin everything you love."

I wanted to write that down. I had nothing to write with. I never took that notebook around with me after Daniel tainted it. Brace looked at me and I guess I should have responded but I was too much in love with what he just said to say anything at all.

"So what do you do besides talk about awesome paper on the phone all day?" he asked, his amusing sarcasm when he said "awesome" made me laugh.

"Um, I...I write."

"Oh yeah?" he seemed excited about that.

"Yeah."

He moved a little so we were sitting closer. "What do you write?"

"I don't know," I nervously replied. "I used to...write poetry."

"Why did you stop?" he watched me as he sipped his beer. He listened with his eyes, Brace. His voice was both soft and deep and I wanted to curl up inside of it.

I just shrugged. "So...what happened to the guy...the drunk driver that killed...Tom's son?" I asked instead.

"He went to prison," Brace said.

"He deserves to be punished."

"Yeah." Brace reached for his beer.

"Do you think...if you do something awful when you're a kid...that you should be punished for it when you're older?" I asked.

He frowned. I knew it was an awkward question. Not easily understood. The Mouse and the Motorcycle...

"I suppose it depends on what it was. Why?" He waited and I reached for my beer, wishing I hadn't said it.

"Nothing – never mind. Do you wanna play some pool?"

I looked up at him and his face was still frozen in inquiry. He hadn't bothered shaving today. He smelled as bad as ever tonight and it made me hungry for him. I wondered if his sideburns felt bristly. I kept thinking about that nice trail of hair under his shirt that vanished into his pants.

"Um, sure." He got up and I followed him over to the cue stick holder.

Veruca Salt's Seether blasted through the corner speakers as Brace set up the balls.

"I want to say to you...that egg means a lot." I was struggling to talk now. Don't die inside. Shine, talk to him.

He looked up at me from where he stood on the other end of the pool table.

"It's not a big deal," he said. "But I'm glad you like it."

"Okay, ready?" he came over to where I was standing. It was just starting to get cold in the city, and it was a little drafty in the bar too. The window over in the corner where the restrooms were was cracked.

Brace handed me one of the cues and put the little block of chalk down. I could feel his body heat as he stood near me.

"Yes." This was my first time playing pool ever.

He looked at me. "You wanna go first?"

"Sure." I had no idea what I was doing. I stood awkwardly at the end of the pool table and placed the stick down in front of the balls. The stick felt so long and it was all awkward.

"It's kind of all about how you hold the stick...you want me to show you?" he spoke slower and hypnotic. He waited until I gave him permission and after I nodded, he leaned forward and took the stick so his arms were on either side of me. He turned to look at me when he spoke.

"You wanna bend forward a little," he suggested, his voice a hoarse whisper in my ear. Those eyes. He not only listened with them but seemed to talk with them too. His mouth just followed. I bent forward a little and he got closer to me so his dreadlocks were touching my face and his body was against mine. He showed me how to hold the cue stick.

"The key to, like, anything is to look like you know what you're doing – even if you don't. It comes in handy...and it fools people." His voice was very low and hoarse. I glanced up at that cute pug nose of his. He looked right into my eyes and said, "You can like trick your mind into thinking you can already do something."

I laughed – mostly because I was so nervous.

"It's true," he said, a straight mouth and twinkle in his bedroom eyes. "Relax," he said. He was looking at me again and I really wanted him to kiss me. He looked back at the cue balls. "Focus, just be calm and focus."

The cue gently moved back between a hole I made with my fingers as he pulled it back and then, together, we pushed it forward and the balls separated but nothing went into a pocket.

"Not enough gusto," he said in the deepest, sexiest voice. "But it's a start." He looked at me in a positive manner as he walked over to the side of the table, eyed a ball and made the quickest, most effortless shot and got that ball and another in different pockets. He made it look so easy. I wanted to play like that – my dad could play like that.

He aimed for another solid and I thought there was no way he would miss. It was only a few inches from the middle pocket, but he grazed it with the stick and it barely moved. I was sure he missed on purpose so I could go again.

"Okay, so you're stripes," he reminded. I wanted him to come back over and stand behind me again but he stayed where he was.

"Remember, just act like you do this all the time," he coached.

"Okay." I tried to coolly lean forward like they did in that movie, The Color of Money, but when I hit the ball it went straight up from the table and awkwardly bounced and would have landed on the floor if Brace didn't coolly catch it in the palm of his hand.

"Oh my god," I said, going over to drink my beer. Brace came over to where I was sitting on the leather couch.

"You can't just give up like that," he said. "I'm not going to let you give up because then I can't win." He just sat there and smiled. "Come on." He nodded at the table, proving he had a stubborn streak. I got up and went back over to him. I was starting to enjoy being close to him. I got in front of him and leaned back against him for another lesson. I could feel his warm skin beneath his clothes. He still didn't kiss me – what was he waiting for?

I faced the stripes and he got really close to me. He was excellent at reading my body language. I think he was also a bit of a tease. I felt his hand on my hip for just a second and then he leaned forward, pressing against me so I had no choice but to press against the table even harder.

"The way you lean..." he started to say something dirty but stopped himself. I could feel him getting excited in those amazing leather pants. "Okay – pick a ball," he said. I moved against him a little. "Look at what's closest to a pocket." He tried not to laugh. He was actually close to my back pocket.

There were plenty of stripes left on the table, but I did notice the orange one was close to one of the center pockets.

"I guess that one," I pointed to it.

"Yeah, yeah, good, okay..." his mouth was close to my ear and he leaned against me even more. God. I felt him stroke my upper back with his knuckles. My body was on fire for him, but he seemed to like to take things nice and slow. I loved having his voice right there – almost as much as I enjoyed the egg shaker. I moved a little bit and he did too, and now we were in a very intimate position. I was no longer nervous about this pool game and this time I actually got in a stripe!

"There you go," he said, kissing me on the cheek. I smiled and turned so I was facing him. This time I wasn't going to move until he gave me a real kiss, and he did. I loved how he kissed, openmouthed at first and then he stopped – just giving me a closemouthed kiss until I pulled him close and felt him getting harder and he kissed me deeply. I felt a warning inside of it, like a voice asking, Are you sure you're up for this? But I kept holding him and he kissed me so long I felt the stubble around his mouth. I put my face against his chest afterwards and he wrapped his arms around me nice and tight.

"You're so warm," I said.

"Yeah." He kissed me on my cheek again. Then I looked up, asking for another kiss and he kissed me on the mouth again, this time gently. I leaned back against the pool table – practically on it. He kept his arms around me and smiled and looked down at me so our foreheads touched.

"How are you?" he asked, stroking my cheek. "You hungry? What do you wanna do?" He was so gentle; a calm smile gracing his face as he softly stroked my face.

"Um...yeah, actually, I am a little hungry."

"I don't think they have any food here but, like, peanuts and popcorn – wanna go to Melrose?"

Melrose! That was my favorite diner in all of Chicago and I smiled really big for the first time in months.

13

Melrose Diner was on Belmont Avenue, conveniently across from the Belmont L subway station. The diner was really cool looking, with pictures of Hollywood icons like Marilyn Monroe and James Dean on the walls. Cheesy Halloween decorations like fake cobwebs lined the walls and I laughed when a plastic black spider fell from it into Brace's soup.

"Oh you think that's funny?" he said, smiling. He threw it at me and I threw it back. He set it aside after looking up at the fake web like he might put it back up there.

"You like working at Paper Cut?" Brace tried to get a conversation started. I was quiet but that didn't mean I didn't have a lot to say, thoughts swirled around in my head and I couldn't pick one to express. That kiss back at Sons on Clark really messed my head up.

"Yeah, actually...before that I worked at this flower shop."

"How was that?" he asked, looking directly at me.

"It was okay."

"Where are you from?" he asked his next question as he reached over for the strawberry milkshake we were sharing.

"This really small town in North Carolina called Holden."

"Never heard of it," he said. Then he grinned. "They all got cute little accents like you?"

I blushed. "I have an accent?"

He held up his hand to display a small spaced between his thumb and index finger. "A little tiny one that comes out sometimes...when you talk."

"I know I'm quiet."

He kept giving me hard looks, like he wanted to know what I was thinking.

"So tell me about your band," I said before he could ask me anything else.

"Well, we all met in prison..." he said. I thought he was serious because he kept a really good game face until it finally broke and he laughed and held out his hand out at me very courteously to let me know he was kidding.

"My singer's from Wisconsin, he's very...moody, mysterious. He came up with the name of the band. Most of his songs are about his ex-girlfriend. He's, like, really into Cannibal Corpse. I don't know if you heard of them but before this band he was in a band called Killer Looks."

I shook my head.

"Anyway," he went on, "Me and the guitarist were able to calm him down a little bit and go for a softer sound – like Guns N Roses."

I laughed. "That's funny – a softer sound like Guns N Roses."

"Dude is nuts," Brace said, shaking his head and displayed a wild, dark amusement over it. He sat back; his long legs stretched out under the table and crossed at the ankles. They were pretty close to my feet. "Like his girlfriend cheated on him and now she's married and pretends to be this squeaky clean goodie goodie – drives him nuts."

"Your singer?"

He nodded.

"Do you ever write any songs?" I wondered.

"I write songs – Doug doesn't sing 'em though. He's...fixated on his ex so everything he sings has to be about her. But yeah...I used to work at Guitar Center and when it was slow I'd jot down lyrics." I really liked listening to Brace talk.

"I did that at the flower shop..." I reached up and rubbed the back of my neck. I didn't like talking about how I was before Daniel because I wasn't like that now. "Write poetry..."

Brace was studying me closely again. After a minute his brown eyes jumped away and looked around the diner. I tried to finish my pasta but it was cold – it didn't even arrive that warm.

"I can cook better than this, you know?" he said, not exactly bragging but in a cool, sly way. He bit his nails for a minute. Then he stopped and laced his fingers behind his head and I stared at the hair under his armpits and the curves of his arm muscles. "You should come over."

"Where do you live?"

"Over by Randolph," he said. "You know that giant Salvation Army Store?"

"No...I never get out that way."

"Downtown? That's too bad – you have to come over, it's a whole different vibe."

"Yeah, okay." We exchanged a soft smile and Brace took out some money for the check.

Brace and I took different trains since he lived downtown. We stood outside the Belmont Avenue L station and he gave me a hug goodbye.

"I had fun tonight," I let him know.

"Yeah, we should do it again sometime...except Halloween...because you know I got that party..." after he said that, he made the funniest face – obviously waiting for me to say whether I'd go or not. I laughed and thought okay, you can do this. You want to do this.

"Yeah...I was going to say..." I was looking down at the ground as people rushed by us, exiting and entering the station. It was late but people moved at a fast pace as though it was rush hour. The train roared above us and I hated the noise. I wanted a quiet place. I wanted the egg shaker sound in my ear forever.

"Hey – I'm not...I don't want to..." he struggled to say it was okay if I didn't want to go until I interrupted him, putting my hand on his chest.

"I'll go – I want to."

"Yes!" he hugged me again. It was the longest, strongest hug I'd ever received in my life. I could tell he was about to say something else that had nothing to do with the party. When I started to pull away, he held me tenderly but firmly and whispered something in my ear I'd never forget.

"Whatever it is...you should forgive yourself for it."

14

I could still feel his arms around me long after we separated and I was on my way back to the Argyle Station. I got a little nervous walking home alone even though I had a short walk – just down the street and around the corner. The wind rocked the WE REPAIR TIME sign. I stared up at it, wishing the sign was true. Maybe it was, I thought. I could still feel Brace's arms around me. How he smelled.

I had to make the horrible decision of whether to take the cursed elevator or the stairs. The stairs was always quiet, especially this time of night. I decided to take the elevator. I got on and looked around even though it was obvious no one else was on it. My eyes jumped around anyway, not even trusting themselves.

I pushed the button for the 5th floor once I was in the elevator and the door closed and the thing went straight up to the 9th floor. The elevator always went to the 9th floor and I hated it. Two years ago there was a fire in this building and someone died on the 9th floor. No one lived up there because the apartments had so much damage the landlord just gave up on any repairs and never rented them out. There was a ghost story that the woman who died on the 9th floor was always trying to take the elevator down, which was why it constantly went up there.

I waited as it stopped on the 9th floor. It jerked downward for a split second like it might fall all the way down the shaft. I shut my eyes as the door opened in a hostile motion like someone was trying to rip it clear off. The 9th floor was completely dark. No one lived up here so no one bothered with the light in the hallway. I hated this – it was way too quiet. I pushed the 5 button so hard my finger hurt. Sometimes the elevator would stop between floors and the door would open to a concrete wall. That was almost worse than being taken to the 9th floor against my will. Luckily this time it went straight to my floor and I was finally set free.

Once I was in my apartment, I climbed into bed with my egg shaker and managed to sleep well for the first time in months, thoughts of tonight – the most pleasant night in my life – replaying themselves in my head.

I had Halloween off from work. Virginia did have to work though so I had the little apartment to myself for the morning. I enjoyed walking around my apartment naked, not smelling her horrible cigarettes, and leaving my razor out on the bathroom sink without worrying about her harming herself with it. I played one of Brace's mix tapes really loud and took a shower. Fall finally allowed me to enjoy a long, hot shower. I had nothing to wear for tonight's CD release party so I ventured out to Boystown, cashed my check and decided to treat myself.

I went to Magic Tears first. I had no idea where I would find a cocktail dress but Brace suggested I wear one because he was going to dress up in a tux. I could get a leather jacket here – I always wanted one and I was so tired of my army jacket. Besides, it was too cold now for an army jacket and it was missing buttons. I was so excited and smiling a lot for the first time in months. I even bought a new clutch. I knew I was going a little over my budget but I couldn't help it – this materialistic high took hold and it felt so good to treat myself. I was getting ready for what I felt like would be one of the best nights of my life.

My train was late and it was quite cold but I didn't mind because I had on my brand new leather jacket. I made sure I had my egg shaker, looking in my bag as I sat under the heating lamp. I shook the little guy in my ear for a minute, washing out my thoughts when it came to being a little short for rent and bills. Virginia could just borrow the money from her parents.

"Nice jacket," a voice made its way through the percussion sound in my ear. I opened my mouth to say thanks, turned around and saw Daniel standing there, his blue eyes only half-open like he was drunk. I never wanted to see that face again – that dirty hair and those pale blue eyes. I didn't know what to do, he caught me by surprise. I stood up and made sure he didn't block me as I walked to the edge of the platform, hoping to see the train making its way to the station. It wasn't.

There are a lot of people around, you're fine, I told myself.

"What's that?" he was right next to me, like he glided over like a ghost. He pointed at my bag. He acted like we were friends who just happened to run into each other.

"Nothing." I put my arm against my bag to keep it close to me. I watched as he reached in and grabbed the egg shaker before I could stop him.

"Give it back!" I shouted, reaching out for it but he held it away from me. I was mindful of the fact that I was close to the edge of the platform. Daniel was too but he didn't seem to care. He held his hands up at me, motioning to keep calm. "Chill." He actually laughed at me. People walked by and glanced at us then kept going. He shook the egg around and looked at me like he had in the kitchen that time. I couldn't stand his grubby hands on it.

"This is cool." He looked at the egg shaker and kept shaking it aggressively.

"Give it the fuck back," I warned. I didn't yell, but my voice shook with anger.

He ignored what I said and asked, "How you been?" I looked up and saw the silver light of the train as it snaked around the curve.

"The train's coming," I said. "Just give me the egg back." It was all I wanted. I just wanted it back. I wasn't going to say please to him again. I wasn't going to beg. "Give it back, Daniel."

"Oh? You want this?" he teased me, showing me the egg shaker before he held it out over the tracks. Everything in me tensed up. The train was seconds from the station.

"Daniel! GIVE IT BACK!" As I screamed I watched his fingers straighten out and the egg shaker drop from his hand to the tracks. The train drowned out my screaming as it crushed the little egg shaker to pieces.

15

I kept looking in my bag. I would never get used to the void. It used to be right there setting on the scarf Brace gave me that night that wasn't even mine. I kept it there like a baby. I felt numb inside as I walked home. I felt empty. I'd trade everything I just bought to have that egg shaker back. I couldn't even allow myself to cry because I knew if I did I wouldn't be able to stop. I rolled my eyes at the stupid WE REPAIR TIME sign and turned the corner.

"Hey!" Virginia greeted me as I walked into our apartment. She had her new friend from work over and they'd been drinking and were both in merry moods.

"Hey," I forcefully said as I went over to my bed. I wanted it back – the only thing in the world I wanted back was that egg shaker.

"Whoa, nice jacket," Virginia said. I could hear the animosity in her tone. She wasn't happy that for the first time in my life I actually had a nice, warm leather jacket. She was being snide because rent was due.

I pressed my face into my pillow. I deserved that I guess – the biggest pain was seeing that egg shaker drop and I deserved it. I would never stop paying for what I did when I was a child.

"Joey?" Virginia called from her cloud of cigarette smoke in the kitchen. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." I just wanted to be left alone.

"Why are you in a bad mood?" she picked. "I'd be in a good mood if I had a nice jacket like that."

I got up, so tired of her, and fought my way out of the jacket and hurled it at her, knocking the cigarette right out of her hand.

"Hold on a minute here!" she snapped. Her friend who had blonde hair almost curlier than Shirley Temple, looked shocked by the fight about to erupt and didn't move or even blink. "What is your problem?!" Virginia hollered.

"What's yours?" I responded. I was shaking. She picked up the leather jacket and calmly walked over and handed it back. Then she fetched her cigarette from the floor and put it out in the ashtray.

"I need rent," she simply said. "Then I think it's best if you start looking for a new place. Leslie here is moving in." Leslie's eyes expanded and I could tell she didn't want to be thrown into this.

I didn't care if she was moving in. That was fine with me.

"Okay." I went back to bed. I was supposed to meet Brace in a couple of hours but I couldn't fathom going to a party now. I felt like I just watched my best little friend get killed. I couldn't possibly explain this ache to anyone, they would not understand.

"Hey Joey?" Virginia called. I just wanted her to go away.

"What?" I mumbled from under the blanket. I heard her friend ask where the bathroom was. Like, was it that hard to figure out? Look around, it was obviously on the other end of the apartment.

After Leslie went to the bathroom, Virginia came over and sat on my bed.

"Joey? Can you please try and act normal? This is weird."

I sat up in bed, and I could not figure out how to say how I felt.

"It's Halloween," Virginia said.

"I know."

"Me and Leslie are going to have some people over – is that cool?"

I nodded and looked at my alarm clock. I should be dressed by now. I should be getting on the train in fifteen minutes if I wanted to be on time. I sat up and slowly starting digging around in my bag for my wallet. If I was lucky, I had enough money to give her for rent but bills would have to wait. I took out the wad of twenties. I'd missed the smell of money. I handed her seven twenty dollar bills.

"This is not enough," she clearly said. This whole night had become awkward. I couldn't imagine what she would say once I put on my fancy cocktail dress and shoes I bought for tonight. Leslie came out of the bathroom, pretending she couldn't hear our ugly discussion.

"It's all I have," I just informed.

"You actually went shopping knowing you had to give me two-hundred dollars today? I never go shopping."

I didn't know what to say. I knew she was right but I didn't care.

"You want me to move out then I'll move out but that's all I can give you," I made it clear.

"You're a very selfish person, Joey. I know you went through something horrible but you can't let that be your excuse. I hope you know that." She sounded like she was warning me about something. I couldn't take lectures right now.

I didn't say anything and she backed off and went into the kitchen. She ignored me until I left. I packed a change of clothes for the night because I wouldn't be coming back.

I might never go back.

16

It was freezing and that Chicago wind tried to blow me back to where I was coming from. At least I had my leather jacket and I didn't feel guilty about it. I checked myself in the mirror as I waited under the heat lamp for the train. My pink hair was growing out so it was all nice and fuzzy – one of the things I liked doing other than listen to that egg shaker was running my hand over my head.

It was obvious I'd been crying – even makeup couldn't hide the fact. I put the mirror away and kept a suspicious eye out for anyone lurking. My nerves were not settled. They didn't get much better when I was on the train. I couldn't stand looking in my bag without seeing the black egg shaker with the little word Gibson written across it.

I took the train to Boystown. It was always Boystown. It was always where everyone wanted to meet. I hoped Daniel wouldn't be there. I kept an eye out for him as I hurriedly walked down Belmont, bumping shoulders with ghouls and princesses, warriors and zombies. The stretch down Clark Street to the pool hall felt like the longest walk and I kept looking over my shoulder. What if Daniel was stalking me? He knew where I lived, so I was not exactly broken up over the fact that I had to move out soon.

I was very relieved once I made it to the pool hall; once I pushed the unmarked white door open and the dark coziness of Sons on Clark enveloped me. There were more people here than last time because it was Halloween. Costumes. Most people were in costumes tonight – what if Daniel was? Panic gripped me until I heard Brace's voice and felt his arms around me as he gave me a big hug from behind.

"Hey," his voice and calm energy washed over my world. "There you are."

I turned around and stayed in his arms, wanting to stay there forever.

"You okay?" I think he sensed my fear.

"Yeah." Get it together. "Just glad to see you...I had a fight with my roommate."

"Oh..." he smiled softly and ran his hand through my hair. "I'm sorry."  
"It's okay."

He touched my chin and kept his eyes on me. "Look at you," he bragged. He winked at me. I was so thankful to be with him that it made me want to cry too.

"You want a drink?" he asked. I nodded and he turned and went over to the bar. He looked really hot but was only wearing half of the tuxedo – just the dress shirt and dress jacket. He wore ripped up black jeans and his usual black combat boots. After he handed me my beer, he took my hand and pulled me towards the table where everyone from Paper Cut was sitting. Pete threw his arms in the air and hailed, "Joey!" before going back to his pint of beer. Everyone else followed with a greeting for me that didn't quite match Pete's enthusiasm.

I wasn't very enthusiastic myself. "Hello."

Brace squeezed my hand as if he could tell I wasn't feeling quite right. The only other boy to ever hold my hand like that was Brandon.

"Can we play pool?" I asked Brace – almost pleading.

"Of course." Brace had the coolest walk – he was confident, not cocky. It was very graceful to watch. His tall, slender body looked so good in those jeans.

"So...what happened to the tux pants?" I asked as I sipped my Wolf's Tooth Ale and tried to get into the mood.

"Here you go doll," he handed me a cue stick. "Uh, they were too tight...around a certain area." The way he smiled at me then was adorable, like he was trying to look all innocent as he discussed the size of his cock.

"Oh." I blushed and stared at the pool table. I didn't see anything though. All I could think about was him. All I could see was a giant cock trying to be stuffed into black, slick tuxedo pants.

"Yeah, I shoulda tried it on but I ordered it from one of these catalogues – Doug did that once – he showed up to his ex's wedding to piss her off. Anyway, the jacket looks good though, right?" He posed really funny and made me laugh.

"Yes – you look good." You always do.

"Okay, we kinda have to make this quick," he let me know, nodding at the pool table. "The limo will be here soon." He looked so happy when he brought up the limo. "By the way – I'm an ass for not saying this yet – but you look hot as hell."

"Thanks." I smiled and felt a little nervous. Did this cocktail dress really look good on my curvy body? Every time I saw someone in the movies with a dress like this on, they were tall and skinny. The dress was strapless and sparkly. I paired it with a pair of vintage black platform shoes from the 60s.

Then he said, "Marilyn Monroe with pink hair. That fuckin' jacket is rad."

Ha. So there you go. Forget Virginia.

"Stop," I said, but I did love how he was making a fuss over me. "The shoes...I'm not so sure about." Nothing seemed right anymore, nothing felt right without that egg shaker.

I felt Brace's arm land on my shoulder. "Babe, you look great – now hurry up and kick my ass at pool because the limo is coming."

"Okay." I tried to shake it off and smile. This was his night and I wasn't going to let Daniel ruin it. This time Brace didn't get behind me for any coaching lessons. He just leaned against the wall in those sexy jeans and watched; the pool stick standing straight up in front of his body and his hands over the top of it.

I focused on the solids and aimed for the green. I pulled the stick back and got the speed just right and the balls parted. Nothing went in – but it wasn't a bad break.

"Okay, that was pretty good," Brace said, walking over to take his shot. He looked so hot playing pool. And of course he was playing well, getting a ball in on the first try. He was not playing sympathetically tonight – he was just going for it. This made me happy – I never wanted anyone to let me win because I would never know if I was good or not.

I finally got to go after he got three balls in. I was determined to beat him. I didn't know why – but I really wanted to. I decided to go for the red this time. The orange was not far away – it wasn't perfectly lined up but it was close enough so if I tapped it at the right angle, it could hit the red and the red could go into the pocket at the end of the table in the right corner and I could hear that awesome sound. I loved that hollow sound of the ball going completely in, falling down and disappearing forever.

I was sweating. I knew I was taking way too long with this – I should just shoot. It would go in or not. Another hour or two would pass by and no one in the world would care whether Joey Mills got the red solid in the pocket. No one. But me.

Okay, just do it. I felt Brace staring at me and I knew he was wondering what the hell I was doing. I slipped the cue in and out of the hole I made with my index finger and thumb two more times and then I did it. I did it!

"I did it!" I shouted when the red and green ball both went in, doubling that hollow sound I loved. "I fucking did it! I DID IT!" I was jumping around in my six-inch platform shoes, nearly falling over. Brace was looking at me and clapping. I could tell he was a little freaked out but he came over anyway and gave me a celebratory hug.

"That's so awesome." His smell and voice sheltered me. I stayed in his arms for a minute until wriggling out of them because I wanted to finish this game. This time the purple guy was up. I aimed at the blue stripe and almost got the purple one in. It was right there on the edge of the dark pocket and I couldn't understand why it didn't want to fall in. I would fall in. I was obsessed with pool.

Brace leaned forward. To him this was just a game. He got the purple stripe in and then the yellow one.

"Hey guys!" Pete called from the door where everyone was gathered with their jackets on. I saw the stretch limo outside. It was white and had lights on the bottom that lit up the dark street below it. "Limo's here!"

Brace went over and put his cue stick up and finished his beer.

"Okay, I'll go then," I said. I aimed for the solid yellow, which was pretty much right in the perfect center of the table. I hit it anyway and watched it hit the end of the table before returning to the same spot where it had been. That was so irritating.

"Hey Joey?" Brace said, putting his hand on my shoulder. "The limo's here."

"I'd like to finish playing," I said.

"How 'bout this – we come back after the party, yeah?" he put his hand on my shoulder, his patience always impressed me. "I promise."

"Why can't we just finish? You paid for the limo, it'll wait."

"We have to go." Brace sounded a little stern right then. I'd never heard him speak to me like that. I put my cue stick away and followed everyone outside.

17

"The driver went to get smokes," Pete informed us. He sounded antsy. He lit a smoke and kept his voice low while he talked to John. They seemed like best buddies all of the sudden. They were about the same age. Pete's salt and pepper beard and John's bald head pointed that out.

I noticed someone watching me from across the street. He was dressed in regular black clothes but he was wearing a tiger mask. He stood still like a Disney character waiting to wave at a patron, but he never waved. It was impossible to tell from this distance, but I felt like he was watching me and that was his whole purpose for standing there under the L station by Wrigley Field.

"Oh man, I'm so excited." Brace was practically jumping up and down. He pulled me against him and hugged me. I couldn't take my eyes off of the person in the tiger mask. He crossed the street, heading directly towards us.

"So if you want, I'm having some people over to my place after we go to Wax Trax," Brace said. I couldn't hear him though – he was standing right in front of me and speaking at a normal volume but I couldn't hear what else he said. I knew who that guy in the tiger mask was. He had shaved his head and had little nicks all over it, but I knew who it was. Then the heavy bass sound from the limo's music speakers started thumping. "There's a place to play pool nearby," Brace said. Then the guy in the tiger mask got right between us and just stared at me. The mask was a cheap drugstore kind and looked a little like Tony the Tiger. He was the same height and the same smell – Daniel.

He leaned into me and I couldn't move. I wished I could, but every time he came around I just tensed up so bad it was like I was paralyzed.

"I'm never far away," Daniel said; the words muffled behind the plastic mask.

"Hey psycho, you got a problem?" Brace was ready to fight. He put his hand on Daniel's shoulder and spun him right around. Daniel just adjusted his mask and turned back around to sneer at me. The mask lifted on one side of his face when he did so. Then he just walked off.

Pete hadn't noticed anything at all. He called for us to get into the limo. "Driver's back, kids."

18

"Who was that guy?" Brace asked after we were in the limo, on the way to Wax Trax. "Did you know him?"

I just shook my head. It was never-ending. Daniel was right, he was never far away. If he wasn't there right in front of me bullying me then he was in my head bullying me.

"Just some random creep?" Brace guessed. I was despondent. He put his hand on my knee. "Hey?" Brace was trying to get me to look at him while Pete, who always seemed oblivious to everything, started pouring champagne into outrageously huge flutes.

"Thanks man," Brace said as he took a champagne flute and handed it to me. He reached over and took one for himself and sat back. I stared at the glowing white table in front of the black leather j-style seating. There were packs of cigarettes and tons of champagne bottles and a swanky pair of sunglasses with blue lenses on the table.

"These are for you," Brace said, picking the sunglasses up and handing them to me before asking Pete to give the driver a CD for the ride.

"I made a mix of stuff for the ride," Brace said, sitting back and putting his arm around me. I just sat there wishing I had something fun to say to Brace, something to make him smile. He was usually smiling anyway. I watched as the CD got passed up to the driver and slipped the sunglasses on. They were designer and made me feel a little better – like I had a mask on. Daniel wasn't the only one who could wear a mask.

"I feel like a rock star," I said. They made me feel like someone else. I liked hiding behind them.

"That's the point of tonight," Brace said. He poured us more champagne when Good Things by Sleater-Kinney came on.

"I love this band," I said, surprised he did.

"You were wearing their shirt one day."

Brace, he was so amazing. I leaned into him and he kissed me on the head.

"I'm so glad you're here," he said in a different voice, a deeper one just for me. He ran his hand up and down my knee as he said it. I turned so my nose was almost touching his neck. I wished we were alone. Brace looked like a cross between Jeff Buckley and Zack de la Rohca and he was making me really horny.

"Awe, your nose is cold," he noticed. He put his hand on the back of my head to keep my nose against his neck so it would warm.

"Okay kids," Pete said, taking out a tiny bag from his pocket and putting a mirror down on the table. I watched as he lined up the cocaine. Brace started whispering in my ear and his dreadlocks covered my face and his hand was still rubbing my knee.

"You look so hot," he whispered, his hand running up and down my leg. "I'm so glad you decided to come."

"Kiss me." He only waited a few seconds to fulfill my request, his eyes slowly closing as he sank into my mouth. There was this deep yearning for him inside of me all of the sudden. This was a magic world in this limo. We were different people. We were rock stars. We were gods. It felt so amazing. The only thing that would make it better was if the limo ran Daniel over.

Brace kissed me slow at first, with haunting grace. His lips grazed mine and his hand touched the back of my neck. Then our mouths opened simultaneously and I became addicted, chasing each kiss with a harder one.

"You coming home with me tonight?" he whispered, his thumb stroking my cheek as he gently pressed his forehead against mine and looked me in the eye. "Please say yes."

"Yes." I shut my eyes as he kissed me again. I could hear Pete and John snorting lines of coke. I felt Brace's arm unwrap from me as he leaned forward to do a line himself. He looked up at me with his brown eyes; they looked a lot bigger than usual.

He sat back next to me and pointed at a line of cocaine on the mirror. "Want some?"

"Um..." I'd never done coke before.

"Come on, it's a rock star night – we're all rock stars tonight."

I just got down on my knees and crawled over and Brace laughed in a very pleased way as he watched me crawl around. I could tell he liked it. I put my hand on the back of his leg and snorted the line right up.

"Alright!" he gave a celebratory cackle before doing another line. Then I did another and then Pete and John. Brace poured more champagne.

"Man," Pete said, placing his hand over his nose for a minute and clamping his nostrils shut. He dropped his hand and smiled at Brace. "If this is what it's like being a rock star then what the hell am I doing in the paper business?"

"I don't know dude," Brace shook his head and smiled playfully. "But I read this article that said, like, twenty years from now, paper won't even be necessary. It's going to be all technology and douchebags. Everyone will smell like computers. Their eyes will all be a milky screen-like blue. Info zombies and shit. Tonight, though, tonight is all we got." He looked down at me and his voice softened. "All we need."

I grabbed his hand as soon as he sat back and kissed him hard.

"Yeah," he whispered with his fingers on my throat. After the kiss ended, Brace did more coke.

"Have you ever been to Wax Trax?" he asked. His voice sounded a bit jumpy.

"No," I answered excitedly. Pete was laughing very loud at something John had said and I noticed John was fiddling with his wedding ring like it was irritating him.

"Rock stars don't get married, do they?" John looked at Brace.

"No way, dude." As soon as Brace answered, John slipped his wedding ring off and dropped it into his champagne.

"UH OH!" Pete laughed loudly at where this night was going and then Brace started kissing me really hard, his warm hands sliding up under my cocktail dress. My knees parted and in that very moment, I wanted his entire body to run straight up inside of me. I lied down across the seat and he got on top of me as the limo started to slow down. Brace tasted like champagne and cigarettes. He was really kissing me tonight. I reached up and took my sunglasses off my head and carefully placed them on the table by the coke and bubbly. We both rearranged my dress so it was above my bottom and I could spread my legs and feel him better. The kisses were so addicting, pouring into the next. He felt so warm and safe. If we were naked, he would be inside of me.

I noticed the limo had stopped. Pete and John were getting out and shut the door as Brace touched my neck again, his fingers caressing my throat, which I found out that night I really liked. No one had done that before.

"Mmm," I moaned to let him know I liked having my neck touched. He was brilliantly observant with body language and kept doing it, the touch becoming just the right amount of firm. I pushed up against him. He was so hard and it was clear why those tuxedo pants didn't work out.

"Brace," I sighed. I felt his warm, firm fingers pull my underwear down a little right before he reached back up to lovingly touch my face.

"Brace..." I put my hands on his ass and pushed him into me. Whenever he put his hand down on my throat, my body pushed up and rubbed against his cock

"Brace," I sighed, moving so he could lick my neck as I pulled at his dreadlocks.

"You're so sexy."

"You're sexy," he said, biting my neck a little to make me twitch so my body hit his in the best way. He squeezed my bottom and kissed me hard on the mouth. Then I felt his hand against my pussy.

"This okay?" he asked before going on.

"Yeah..." but I wasn't ready to have sex. Especially in this limo when Pete and John could come back any minute. I did like the thought of having Brace touch me there though. Because the last person to touch me there was Daniel.

Brace was careful and very good with his hand.

"Oh..." I felt the tip of his finger test me out and I pushed my tongue into his mouth.

"You're nice and wet," he noted, touching my throat again. He did everything so perfect.

I turned over because I wanted him to play with me from behind.

"Oh my god," he flipped my dress up and licked the delicate curve where my leg ended and my bottom began. Then he kissed me along my side and my neck and pressed against me so I was smashed between him and the seat.

"We need to stop before we go crazy," he said. I agreed. "But later on, at my place..." he left the rest to my imagination. He kissed me when I turned over and then I decided I wanted more coke. He got off of me and I crawled around on the floor again.

"I love you crawling like that," he expressed in a different kind of voice. I did two lines and crawled back to my boy. I looked up at him and he reached down and touched my thick layer of pink hair as my hand ran up his leg almost touching his cock in its black denim prison when the limo door slid open and Pete and John got back in, their middle-aged madcap energy filling the limo. Brace took my hands and scooped me up in his lap, flexing those drummer muscles of his. I snuggled my face against his neck and we started kissing again. When Brace was turned on, he wouldn't stop kissing.

"Get a room you two," Pete poked fun. John giggled right before diving a rolled up twenty into a fresh line of powder. I had not even noticed the limo was in motion again.

"Yeah and then we can have the limo," John said. "Pick up our own chicks."

Brace and I stopped kissing. Pete and John had sort of ruined the moment.

"How'd it go?" Brace asked Pete.

"Good, got all the party favors." Pete showed us some cocaine he and John had picked up. I stared out at the cold scenery – nightclubs, people huddled together in overcoats. I just wanted to keep going as far as possible until there was no chance of ever seeing Daniel again. I dropped down to my knees and did some more coke.

19

Brace jumped out of the limo the second it stopped. There were a lot of people standing outside of Wax Trax! Records and Brace knew them all. He always introduced me as "my girl, Joey." He pulled on my hand excitedly and took me into the store. Brace had all the characteristics of a rock star; all he needed was the record deal.

"Shit, you gotta meet Doug," he said. He talked fast and moved fast. Everything felt fast and somehow far away too.

"Okay." I went along with him and he stopped in front of a guy with curly black hair. He was short and skinny and sort of goofy looking.

"Doug," Brace said with the cutest, excited grin on his face. Doug turned around and adjusted his glasses, which were sort of big for his face. He seemed like the type that always frowned no matter his mood, and he had a wrinkle between his eyes because of it. Doug was cute in that geeky, almost creepy sort of way. He glanced at me before hugging Brace. They didn't hug like usual guy friends; Doug embraced Brace like he hadn't seen him in a very long time and missed him dearly.

"I wanna perform Picture tonight," Doug stated as the hug finally came to an end.

"Okay cool, this is Joey." I waved at Doug who barely even glanced at me before stepping outside to smoke. He hunched over when he walked like a superhero that didn't want to reveal his true identity.

"Don't let his antisocial skills bother you," Brace told me. "He's like that with everyone but the band. When we first met Doug, we joked that he lived in a shoe." I don't know why I found that so funny, but I couldn't stop laughing.

"What kind of shoe?" Was my voice loud? It seemed loud and yet, somehow, I didn't feel as though I was hearing it right. I kept laughing.

"A dirty old big one," Brace said. I laughed even harder. I felt weird. A tall girl with fire engine red dreadlocks came over and put her arms around Brace.

"Ash," Brace smiled and spoke to her in his calm voice. I got very jealous as I waited for the hug to end. They seemed to be longtime friends or longtime something. I was only happy again when Brace stepped back and put his arm around me. "Joey, this is Ashley – Ashley, Joey."

"Joey," Ashley said my name like she knew a lot about me. "Nice to meet you."

"You too," I said. I was very self-conscious of my voice for some reason. Ashley held her hand out to shake mine. She was skinny like Virginia and all the girls Virginia hung out with now, except Ashley was cooler and very pretty. She had a bunch of tattoos and her clothes hung off of her body in an elegant manner. She had a little blue star tattoo under her right eye. Her eyes were big and bright green. She was like a big splash of pretty colors.

"See Doug?" Ashley asked Brace, mildly amused.

"Yeah – he's even more intense than usual."

"Mary's pregnant again," Ashley just said. Brace looked at me to clue me in.

"Mary is the ex – the inspiration behind all the songs," he just said. Then he looked at Ashley. "Did he just find that out?"

"Yup." Ashley was almost laughing.

"How?" Brace wondered.

"Do we want to know? I'm sure he stalks her," Ashley replied. "Tonight should be a spectacle. I'm getting a drink." She looked at me. "Nice to meet you, Joey," she smiled before walking off. The introductions continued as a bunch of cool people I didn't know came up to talk to Brace. Some of them sported Killer Looks t-shirts. We eventually moved on to a small venue nearby where Cannibal Island was about to play.

20

Brace was quite social and had such a relaxed air about him. He kept me near him the whole time and excitedly showed me their CD. It was impressive, especially for a debut. There was a black and white picture of men in black robes standing in front of a body of water. It was simple and yet dark and intriguing.

Brace hopped up on stage with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. His shirt was off. He looked so good behind his drum set.

Doug didn't waste time with small talk before he started performing, lost in his own misery.

"You can take your nice little life," his voice was low and mesmerizing. The talent in him wasn't necessarily his voice but how captivating he was. He revealed his dangerous side like someone slowly pulling a knife out of the deep pocket of a trench coat. "Slice it down the middle, And all your family pictures, Babe," he sang with shameless bitterness. "Cos I don't get the picture, Babe," the drums and keyboard stalked his eerie singing. "You'll get sad...you'll go mad, And you'll get nowhere..." The drums kicked in and really made the song haunting and the guitar followed with an electric howl that cut across the dark, dingy club. Then his voice deepened.

"My arms around you, Now I...just wanna choke you, But I'm not the...one who broke you, oh my darling, where do we go, oh my darling, when we just let go now..."

They were good – but I'd say there were more like Nine Inch Nails than Guns N Roses. I really liked them though. The band really kicked in and the song evolved, strangling the air with electric guitar and hard drums. Brace was a pro, not looking down at anyone in the audience but off the side instead, where there was a blur of a blue from the spotlight shining down on the band. Smoke from the fog machine whipped up, erasing the band so, with Doug being invisible, his dark vocals had more of an impact. "And I could raise all hell, but it couldn't compare, To what you do to yourself...Oh Darlin take care, Oh Darlin take care, nails down the wrong back but go ahead and attack..." the electric guitar swarmed around Doug's vocals and he started dancing like he was possessed, stomping his feet and whipping the microphone cord around like rope. The song felt like a vicious attack. "Oh Darlin....take care, I got your address, you were always just the best...Oh Darlin...take care."

"Man, they are REALLY good," Pete shouted. John nodded and raised his wedding-ring-free-fist into the air.

"So take your nice little life, Slice it right down the middle, And all your family pictures, Babe, Cos I just don't get the picture, Babe, Get in your family van and drive on, Down the same road where it all goes wrong, Jesus on the dashboard, Devil on your back, let's go...Oh Darlin you coulda had me, Oh Darlin, oh well now I'm free Oh Darlin...watch your back."

The song came to an abrupt stop and all the loyal fans were chanting the band's name in unison until they ripped into their next song. This one was a blistering fast song; another one about heartache and betrayal.

"This song's called Round of Fuck Mary," Doug sharply introduced before singing, "Why do I love you? There is no reason, terrible weather, for every season, tell me what to wear, burn me alive, I really don't care cause no one survives...fuck, Mary, kill! Fuck Mary kill! Kill Mary fuck! Fuck Mary kill..." The song was fast and headache-inducing and blinding white lights flashed on the stage. It was one of the most unnerving, fascinating things I'd seen and I had no problem relating to the anger of the song. "Fuck Mary kill! Kill Mary fuck! FUCK MARY KILL, KILL MARY FUCK MARY FUCK KILL KILL KILL!!!"

21

After they finished the song, Doug actually spoke to the crowd though it was in a shy manner, especially compared to his volatile singing.

"Uh so our drummer..." he looked over his shoulder at Brace and pointed. "That idiot Brace," he said in a loving manner, "Wants to say something to you guys." Doug awkwardly walked off, all hunched over, trying to find the nearest corner to hide in.

Brace smiled and rolled his eyes at the same time as he approached the microphone.

"Uh yeah, well first I want to thank everyone for coming out to this to celebrate with us since that jackass didn't thank you," Brace said, pointing at Doug. Then they both playfully flipped each other off. "I would also like to say no one was hurt during the making of our album including the subject of all of our songs, Mary..." Everyone laughed at Brace and he smiled as he went on. "And now..." Brace sported a mischievous grin as he looked right at me. "I want to invite anyone to the stage who wants to sing this next song with me – that's right – I'm gonna sing. We'll be covering our favorite Guns N Roses song." The crowd erupted into loud cheers while Brace paused as if he was rethinking it. But then he said, "And I hope my awesome little girlfriend Joey will join me for this too."

"YEAH JOEY!!!" A drunken Pete and an even drunker John cheered and someone gave me a little push towards the stage.

Doug and Brace switched places, with Doug behind the drums now. Their guitarist, who was amazing, started playing the intro to Guns N Roses I Used To Love Her and I ran up on stage as if I'd been released from a sling shot. That song, I loved it. I was really starting to feel the big kick of all that cocaine I did in the limo. I was still very shy but I was also very drunk and high and so was everyone else here. The always-confident smile on Brace's face helped me feel a little confident too. He leaned into me to whisper over the loud band. "If you want to change the words to him, we can."

I nodded and we tore into the song together.

22

"Oh my god that was so much fun – that was so much fun!" I yelled. We were outside, and the crisp fall air helped to cool my cheeks.

"You sang your heart out in there," Brace said, both surprised and proud. He put his hand on my shoulder. I was hot. I was in shock. I'd gone somewhere else on that stage.

"You sing really well," I told him. He didn't seem to think so and just politely shrugged.

"Joey!" Pete yelled from where he was standing next to John, smoking. "Didn't know you had it in ya!"

Me neither, I thought. Everyone in the crowd cheered me on. I couldn't tell if they were doing it because they were embarrassed for me or if they sincerely liked it.

Doug came shuffling along, tossing his cigarette down in the street in a hot tantrum.

"Yo thanks for showing us up," he said to me. He sounded quite mad before he walked off to Wax Trax.

"Ignore him, he's a hot potato," Brace said. I laughed and Brace took my hand for no reason and just held it.

We eventually piled into the limo and went downtown to Brace's loft. The area he lived in was industrial, with empty warehouses that had just been gutted, and some coming to life as artists rented them out and tried to make them cozy. Chunks of cement lined the canal nearby, and the air smelled like chocolate from the chocolate factory a few blocks away.

His building was very cold and he lived on the top floor. The building was simple – white walls and barred windows. There was garlic on his front door and I would have asked why but I was too antsy from the coke and just wanted to get inside. I just wanted to do something but I had no idea what.

"I feel weird," I said as we stood around Brace's kitchen. The kitchen was just a corner with a fridge covered with band stickers, fliers and magnets. There was a nice bar with brand new bamboo wood and a nice selection of wine. They didn't have much in the way of furniture and stuff in general, so it was easy to keep the place clean. There was enough space in the open living room to even roller skate. The only odd thing – besides the garlic on the front door – was the collection of scythes that hung on the wall.

"I don't feel right..." I said again, when I felt soft fingers wrap around my wrist.

"Come with me to the bathroom." It was Ashley, the girl with the red dreadlocks. She took me down a hallway of bedrooms and into the bathroom. She seemed to know Brace's loft very well, which made me suspicious. I didn't care right now though; I just wanted to chew on something.

"Too much to drink?" she asked as she shut us in the bathroom together.

"I did coke."

"Have you ever done coke before?" she opened the medicine cabinet.

"No – I need to chew on something. My heart is racing and I feel lightheaded..." I was certain I was going to have a stroke or at least pass out. She remained calm as she took a washcloth and folded it three times and wet it with cool water. "Bite on this – don't worry, it's clean. I'll get you an aspirin – it'll take some of the edge off."

I watched her as she took a bottle of aspirin down as I kept biting down on the cloth, wondering when this weird feeling would go away and I'd feel normal again. My thoughts were jumbled and my head hurt, the loud music and collaborative voices from the kitchen weren't helping.

"Don't worry – just try and stay calm and drink this." Ashley handed me a glass with watermelons painted on it. I took the rag out and drink the water and handed it back to her. She gently pulled on my wrist and had me sit on the edge of the tub.

"How many lines did you do?" she asked. She was very kind. I didn't know if I liked that or not – I was sure something was going on between her and Brace.

"I don't know." I dug my nails into my legs. "Like five...I think." I put the rag back in my mouth.

"You're going to be okay, that's kind of a lot though for your first time. You won't have an appetite tomorrow and you'll still feel a bit weird...like you drank too much coffee..." A knock at the door interrupted her.

"Yeah?" Ashley called out.

"It's Brace."

"Come in."

Ashley refilled the glass of water as Brace walked down and looked at both of us.

"You okay?" he was immediately concerned.

"It's her first time doing coke and you let her do five lines?" Ashley preached. I was surprised she cared.

"I didn't know it was her first time." Brace didn't. His eyes jumped from Ashley to me and he came over and sat down next to me and ran his hand up and down my leg. "I didn't know it was your fist time," he said, very apologetic. "You okay?"

I nodded, the wet rag sticking out of my mouth. I opened my mouth to talk and the rag was warm with my saliva. Brace ran his hand over my face and through my hair in a loving stroke.

"The party will be over soon," he just said.

"She should drink plenty of water – she'll probably feel pretty rough tomorrow," Ashley alerted.

"Okay, Nurse Ashley," Brace said, smiling a little as we stood up. I just wanted the party to end so I could have Brace to myself. So the night would go silent. Let people turn quiet dreaming.

23

I lied down on Brace's blue futon and waited for him. He went back out to the living room to play party host until everyone left. I felt so bad for not being able to be a cool girlfriend and mingle with everyone, but I just felt too weird.

Doug would burst into song every now and then and sometimes he'd scream "FUCK MARY!" and Brace would holler excitedly and randomly during conversations. The sound of bottle caps hitting the floor provided constant background noise.

"This shit!" Brace called out about the CD playing. "This is the band I wanna open for!" I had no idea who the band was – some industrial racket.

As I waited for the night to calm, I looked around Brace's room. He was very organized. There was nothing out of place. He had a neat little stack of books on his table, held tightly between book holders. He had a converse shoebox full of egg shakers. Over in the corner was a CD tower, a pile of neatly folded black hooded sweatshirts on a chair, and his drum sticks on his desk. He had a Guns n Roses poster on the wall. I smiled because I had one too, even though I never bothered hanging it. He also had a Jim Morrison poster on the ceiling. It was sexy and sort of spooky the way Jim Morrison was looking right down at me.

I had to pee from all the drinks I had so I got up and went out into the loft. I realized that most of the loud voices came from the band, and they all left at the same time. By the time I came out of the bathroom, no one was left but Brace, who was sweeping up all the bottle caps on the floor. He stopped when he saw me.

"Baby," he came right over, hands reaching out for me until he was close enough to take my hands. "You feelin better?"

"Yes but I want you to come to bed," I said, direct.

"Okay..." he leaned forward when I waited for a kiss and gave me one. "Let me finish cleaning up and I'll meet you in my room."

I tried to be patient. Brace came to his room about twenty minutes later, and everything in his loft was perfectly quiet. He had Christmas lights up in his room. They ran along the wall and the frame of the door. It was nice and dark except for those lights.

"Sorry for all the noise," he said as he got into bed with me. Finally. We started kissing like nothing else mattered. I wanted my hands under his shirt, against his warm skin. I wanted his hands all over me too, and they soon were. We kissed hard just like in the limo, at least until he started laughing.

"What?" I was mortified. Was I a bad kisser? He reached down for something next to me and held the rag up I'd been chewing on through my cocaine comedown.

"I'm sorry..."

"It's okay, it's just funny." He set it aside and we looked at each other.

"Kiss me."

A faint smile crossed his face. "I adore how you say that," he said. I was addicted to his kisses, under some great spell. He kissed me as his hand traveled up my leg to my underwear. I moved around letting him know it was okay to touch me there. I spread my legs as his fingers climbed up inside of my panties.

"Brace," I breathed his name against his sideburn. I licked his neck, the salty taste of his warm skin stayed on my tongue. "Mm, Brace." My mouth stayed open after saying his name and his mouth met mine in a crazy kiss as his finger went inside of me. "Oh!"

His hand left my mouth and searched for something. There was enough light in his room to see the hair under his armpit as he started to take a condom out of the bedside table's drawer. I wasn't ready to have sex. I tried to think of something to say.

"It's so quiet now." I snuggled against him. He stopped fingering me and his damp fingers rested on my thigh. "So does Ashley come here a lot? She seems to know where everything in your bathroom is."

"Yes, she comes here a lot...she lives here." He was smiling, and I guess it was funny, but I wasn't thrilled that they lived together.

"She's my roommate, I'm sorry...did I not tell you that earlier tonight?"

"I don't know," I laughed a little because tonight was so crazy. "I don't think so."

"Yeah, I have two other roommates but they're on tour right now – guys – I think musicians should live with other musicians because musicians can get on non-musicians nerves...and speaking of musicians - you're a fucking rock star...man, what the fuck?! How come you never told me you could sing?"

I just stared at him, my mouth hanging open in a weird smile.

"What?" He wondered why I was so quiet.

"I want you to say musicians one more time," I grinned.

"Oh!" he played along. "So she's a singer and a smartass?" I laughed harder and he grabbed hold of me in a tight squeeze and I loved it, I loved being a prisoner in his arms. He started tickling me and screaming in my ear in a deep death metal roar: "MUSICIANS! MUSICIANS! ! MUSICIANS!"

"AH-AAAHAHAAAAA!" My laugh was a crazy high-pitched shrill that climbed up the wall and I wanted to stop but I couldn't. I was extremely ticklish. "HAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

"What was that?" he was laughing about the way I laughed. "What was that?" I was laughing so hard my stomach hurt and I was crying. Then someone banged on the wall.

"Ashley's pissed," he whispered. I tried to be quiet. He left me alone for the time being and reached over for the rag. "Maybe I should gag you with this," he said. That got me hot and we kissed some more, sinking back in to this raw lust. He was still holding me and I was rubbing against him.

"Where you think you're going, huh?" He took hold of my arms, holding them tight.

"Brace..." I sighed.

"Look at me." He loosened his arms so I could turn around in them and he kissed me as soon as I was facing him. He reached back and unzipped my dress and I felt his warm fingertips trace down my spine. I turned so I was face-down on the bed and the rag was fumbling about on the bed, stopping between my legs. I started humping it.

"Oh Jesus," Brace watched, his hands caressing my bottom as he got on top of me. "Oh yeah," he kissed my neck as I masturbated the rag. I couldn't stop – there wasn't enough friction in the world to satisfy me in that moment. It felt great to feel this way again. Brace unzipped his jeans and pushed them down and I felt his cock against my bottom.

"God I wanna fuck you," he sighed against my shoulder.

"Mmm..." I did want Brace, but I wasn't ready.

I felt his fingers push against the rag as his cock pressed down against my bottom.

"I'm not ready...to have sex."

"Okay...can I touch you?" he wanted to know. He kept kissing me gently on the face and neck, such a sweet boy.

"Yes." I turned around and we switched positions. I climbed on top of him. He picked up the rag and smelled it and bit it before tossing it on the floor and pulling me close to him and kissing me. I was obsessed with Brace's body – he didn't have any hair on his chest but he had that sexy trail of hair that started below his belly button and went under his boxer shorts. I kept licking it and running my hand along his cock that stood proudly out of his boxers slit.

"Brace..." I sighed. I trailed my tongue all the way up the sexy crease in his stomach to his neck and we started kissing again, harder than before. I straddled him and he took my dress completely off. We kissed some more and I touched him and he shut his eyes.

"Mmm...Joey..." I cupped his balls and stroked his cock. "Joey..."

I was on my back, my legs parted. Feeling him against my sex made me really horny but I wasn't ready. He ran his hand along my thigh and brushed his knuckles against my pussy. I pushed against them and we kissed severely hard and his knuckle slipped in me a little.

"I do want you," I told him.

"I know, doll." His cockiness was very subtle. He kissed me on my neck and started jerking off. I turned over and rubbed my ass against him. "You're driving me crazy," he told me, jerking harder and harder until I felt his warm cum run down the crease between my leg and my bottom.

24

"You okay?" he asked later, when I cuddled up next to him. He cleaned me off with the wet cloth and wiped his hand on it before unplugging the Christmas lights so we were in total darkness.

"Yeah..." I rested my head on his chest.

"You want to ask me what's up with the garlic and scythes it's okay." He had such a relaxing way of speaking, and I was glad he brought that up so I didn't have to.

"I was wondering about that," I admitted.

He ran his hand along my arm gently as he looked up at the ceiling. "It's a weird story."

"I want to hear it – I want to hear a really interesting story." I wanted to think about something else besides the stuff I was always thinking about.

"Okay." He reached over for his cigarettes, suggesting this was going to be a heck of a story. "You know Ashley?"

"Yes..."

"When she was ten, she kept having this nightmare about someone breaking into her house. She told everyone..." he paused to let smoke crawl out of his mouth. It made a sexy thick wave as it left his lips almost like it wanted to curl back into his mouth. "Everyone just said it's just a dream, don't worry about it. But she kept having it," he looked down at me. "The same dream, you know? It may have varied in detail here and there, but it was always the same type of man breaking into her house."

"Uh huh..."

"And two weeks later, someone broke into her house."

"Oh man, was anyone hurt?"

"No, no one was home," he said. "It got burglarized though and they never caught the guy – Ashley couldn't sleep very well after that, she was afraid the man was going to come back. Anyway, skip ten years and she moves here and she starts having this nightmare about a vampire – I know," he paused to get across. "Vampires. But that's what she has a nightmare about. This one varies sometimes too, she might be leaving a show – packing up her shit in the van – or maybe she's coming home with groceries, but the dreams always end the same...she comes here – into this loft – and there's this vampire in the kitchen. She's described him to me countless times because I'm the only one that will listen to her and take it seriously. The other guys, our roommates, just laugh. She described the vampire to me as this guy with a white face and these really long sharp fangs. He just stands in the kitchen as she comes in and he has this eerie confidence that he'll kill her and she knows he will – in the dream she just knows...she's obsessed with the fact that he always wears a long black coat."

"That's really creepy," I said after a long silence. I could almost picture it, too, a creepy man with fangs standing in their small, clean kitchen, just waiting. The dim lighting would point him out in all his subtle gruesomeness.

"I think so too," Brace agreed before taking another long drag of his smoke.

"How long has she been having this dream?"

"Ever since she moved here – for about six months. So I come home one day from work and there's garlic on the door and scythes on the wall," he sounded slightly amused but also concerned. "Our other roommates hate it but...it makes her feel better, it helps her sleep at night. The only time she can't sleep now is when I have this girl over and she lets out this very weird laugh."

I gave him a playful punch in the arm and he just laughed.

"It's cool that you're so supportive – understanding," I eventually said.

He held me close. I could sense he was a little scared too. "Maybe I...I don't know."

"You think there's something to her dream?"

He got very quiet, like he wasn't even there. Then he gave me a very unconvincing, "Nah."

25

I slept next to Brace straight through the night, never waking up once. Ashley was the first to get up the next morning. I could hear her footsteps when she went to the bathroom.

"Hey," Brace greeted me in his husky morning voice.

"Hey." I snuggled against him. He was warm and his loft was so cold I didn't know how I'd bring myself to get up and get dressed.

"What do you have to do today?" he asked.

"Nothing."

"Me neither – wanna hang? Do stuff in the city?"

"Yes!" I kissed him before he got up to go the bathroom. His cock was half full with morning wood. I wanted him to come back but he slipped on some black jogging pants and left, exchanging a "good morning" with Ashley in the hallway. I eventually got dressed and ventured out into the belly of his loft when he never returned from the bathroom. I sat on the nice blue suede sofa. It was in a cute living room area with a coffee table with some magazines on it and a TV in front of the couch along with some VHS tapes of mostly Dario Argento films. The living room faced the kitchen and to the side was an enormous space of windows and sunlight bathing the floor. There was enough open space in the loft for another room but no one had bothered furnishing it.

Brace stood in the kitchen, rubbing his hands together and blowing on them because it was that cold. I could see the outline of his penis in his jogging pants and couldn't stop looking at it. I wondered if he didn't come back to me because he wanted to have sex and knew I wasn't ready.

"You wanna go out for breakfast?" he asked me from the kitchen, as if the idea just came to him.

"Yeah!" I got up from the couch, hoping I didn't sound too enthusiastic to leave but it was freezing in here. I also wanted to check out his neighborhood. It was so different from mine. His was by the river and cobblestone streets and off in the distance I could see the skyscrapers downtown.

Brace grabbed his coat and we went outside where the smell of garlic on the door hit me again.

"We could go shopping too," Brace said. "Or do you have anything to do today?"

We both had the day off from Paper Cut and I had no plans at all. "No – I'm free all day."

"Good, baby." I loved how he said baby put his arm around me as we headed out.

The diner he took me too was cozier than Melrose Diner. It seemed a lot older too, with a lot more soul. The wallpaper on the wall felt soggy. The kitchen was small and the wall behind the stove had burn marks on it. Brace knew a lot about Chicago – more than I did anyway. He told me the corner diner we were at had been around since the 1960s.

"No way!"

He nodded and looked at me. He kept looking at me like he wanted to say something that had nothing to do with the diner or anything else we'd been discussing.

"Joey?"

"Yeah?" I looked up from my waffles, afraid of what he was about to ask because he sounded quite serious.

"Is there someone else?" he asked as polite as he could. "I mean because if there is...it's okay. I just want to know. I like you and...I just want to know where this is going."

I didn't know what to say. Suddenly the clanking of other people's silverware seemed very loud. Patsy Cline played on the jukebox and the old timey cash register slammed shut every few minutes.

"Because we haven't had sex?" I assumed. Although the stuff we did last night was pretty close.

"No, no," he sounded offended. He shook his head and frowned and shut his eyes. "I'm not an asshole," he wanted to get across. "I just...well..." then he paused. "I do wonder – I feel like something is holding you back."

I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to say it.

"Because sometimes – like when we played pool that first time – it seemed like you really liked me, and then it was like no, and then it was like yes – I just want to know which it is – who was that guy that night in the tiger mask? He seemed like he knew you."

"He doesn't know me." The words flew from my mouth like daggers. I tried to calm down.

"Who was he?"

"Brace," I begged. "I can't talk about this right now." It was too early. It would always be too early.

He slowly backed off. I could see pain in his brown eyes. I never wanted to hurt Brace. I never wanted to hurt Brandon. Why was this so hard?

"Okay, I'm sorry." I could see his patience thinning. He glanced out of the window and narrowed his eyes. "It's snowing," he pointed.

"No!" I tried to see it but I couldn't. Snow seemed like a nice, pretty distraction to our little tiff. I really wanted to see it fall.

"Look at the darkest thing you see and then you'll see snow," Brace said.

I focused on the black awning across the street and finally saw a few little flakes flying around confusingly as the wind kept them from hitting the ground. They looked so free. And soon winter would be in full swing and freeze everything, stop everything – halt subways, stop the noise, and maybe people like Daniel would slip on some black ice. It would slow everything down to a complete stop.

I wanted everything to stop.

"It's so nice," I muttered. I felt like I should say something to Brace to make him feel better. I hated that he thought there was another guy I liked more than him. There wasn't.

"Brace, I like you. I really do...you've been...so sweet."

I knew guys didn't like to be called sweet or funny. They wanted to be dangerous. Why? I reached across the table and put my hand on his.

"Did you like the CD I played last night? I mean when you were around to hear it."

"Yes – you're a great drummer." I wanted to make him feel better. I really did like him. "Your band is cool."

He put on a smile but I could tell it was forced. "I wanna go antique shopping," he suddenly said, with a little sparkle in his eye. "I like to do that on Saturdays, do you feel up to it?"

I was so relieved he still wanted to hang out. "Yes."

The snow was falling at a steadier rate now and the wind pushed it in our faces like it hated us. It was starting to stick to the ground so Brace held my hand because my shoes were slippery against the slick cobblestones.

"I really like you," I kept repeating.

"It's fine, Joey," he said, putting his arm around me and kissing me on the head. We walked on towards the thrift store. The red stones looked so pretty covered in a thin layer of soft, fresh snow. On the way there we walked by a slew of tiny nightclubs. Some of them looked sketchy.

"Ashley doesn't like this street," Brace said. "It's always in...those nightmares."

I didn't say anything. I just looked up at Brace and wondered what he was really thinking.

"This is the coolest Salvation Army Store anywhere in the world," he boasted. "I get this feeling sometimes right before I go shopping that I'm going to find something fucking cool – I have that feeling today."

He held the door open for me when we got to the thrift store. The place was overwhelming at first. The musty smell of used furniture and the sales clerk's cheap cologne hit me all at once. There were three floors that divided clothes, toys and furniture. The furniture was down in the basement, where Brace escaped to as soon as we walked in. He was like a kid in a toy store, his eyes darting around anxiously. He really wanted to find something special here.

"Oh my god!" he shouted from the corner. "Joey!" he called for me as I made my way through a tight aisle stacked with creepy cribs and baby strollers.

"What is..." I stopped when I saw what he was gawking at. At first I thought it was a big dog cage but then I saw the mattress inside.

"What is that?" I didn't really want to know – but I had to know.

"It's a cage bed," Brace said, touching the rusty netting of the cage. My eyes fell to the stained mattress inside of it. The mattress was a sunshine-yellow with a slightly brown stain in the middle. There was even a hospital wristband inside of it!

"Great, can we look at clothes now?" I asked. But the salesman was already on his way over, sensing Brace's shameless excitement. Something in this corner smelled like pee and death and I really wanted to go.

"Just got it," the cheerful salesman alerted as he walked right up to us. "That old asylum over on Randolph shut down and they sent a lot of stuff over here."

"No way," Brace was thrilled. "Where's the other stuff?"

"Oh, out back, we haven't got the space for it all yet – but this I just had to display."

Brace looked at the price tag. It was three-hundred dollars.

"That's such a good deal," he said. I thought he was joking until I saw him take his wallet out.

"Alright!" The salesman couldn't be happier. "Always good to see ya, Brace." The guy gave Brace a friendly pat on the arm and Brace kept this small but cute smile on his face as he walked over to the checkout counter. He looked so pleased. Then he stopped and looked at me.

"Hey, you want anything? We can still look around but I'm gonna go ahead and pay for this. I have to have it."

For what? I wanted to ask but he looked so happy that I didn't.

I shrugged and stayed there as Brace went over to the counter to make delivery plans. The sales clerk whipped up a form for Brace's info and I slowly made my way back up the aisle and waited as Brace filled it out. "I'll be home later today – can you deliver at four?"

"Four's great!" the salesman answered.

I just inhaled the wintry air and felt the snowflakes on my face once we were back outside. Brace wanted to go behind the building where the canal river was. There was a small lot where the big Salvation Army delivery trucks were. A poor little teddy bear had been tossed into the dumpster but didn't quite make it, falling on the cement walkway by the back door instead. Brace wanted to scope out the other stuff from the asylum but the trucks were locked up. We started kissing behind the building. That cage bed must have really turned Brace on because I could feel the result in his leather pants.

This particular Salvation Army Store was surrounded by empty lots, vacant warehouses, and chunks of cement block along the canal. No one was ever back here except for delivery drivers but they were nowhere to be seen. Brace picked me up and put me on top of one of the cement blocks by the water. It was big enough for both of us to lie on and even have sex, although I still wasn't ready. It was hot how he picked me up so effortlessly, like a doll, and just started kissing me. I loved how he ran his hand up my leg and then touched my face so his palm cupped my chin and his fingers touched my cheeks. His kisses were slow today, and very sexy.

"Brace..." I held onto him, my hands staying warm under his clothes as I touched his body. Brace was the most confident kisser I'd ever met, and for good reason. The fact that we hadn't had sex yet made these make out sessions more intense. I ran my hands up and down his body, making his kisses harder.

"I want you on the rock," I kept saying. We didn't care that it was snowing; in fact it made the whole thing hotter. Brace obeyed my request and spread his sexy body across the rock. I ran my hand up the long, hard lump under his leather pants and he moved a little, panting and looking up at me as I got on top of him. The fact that he smelled made his skin tastier. I licked his torso, ran my tongue over his jutted hips and across that trail of hair again as he lied splayed out across the rock. I let him out of his leather pants and pressed my palm against the tip of his cock. It felt so warm and seemed so monstrous out here in this otherwise cold, grey surrounding.

"I wanna eat you," I sighed, biting his earlobe. I placed my thumb against the tip of his cock. The way he moved – the way his head lifted from the rock when I touched him there – was so sexy. I wondered if he was thinking about that cage bed. Did he want to keep me in it? Did he want us to have sex in such a restricted space? The thoughts did excite me – they excited the parts of me I didn't know was there until this morning.

I looked at his brown eyes and kissed him really hard.

"Mmm, Brace," I sighed. I straddled him and because of the way he was positioned so his head was almost touching the grass and his boots were on the ground, the middle of his body was at my disposal. I pushed against him, feeling a slow tingle between my legs.

"Oh..." he moaned as I pressed against him harder and harder. Every second was a sexual delight. He was my toy. I pushed and pushed.

When he tried to move, I pulled on his dreadlocks to keep him down.

"Brace," I sighed his name. It was everything.

"You're gonna make me cum on you again," he warned.

"Good." I licked him again. "I want you to," I whispered in his ear. "I want you to cum hard." I licked his neck and a smile broke out on his face to let me know he was really enjoying this. But then his face quickly collapsed into a frown again as I pressed against the tip of his cock.

"Oh...oh my god..." he sighed.

"Shush." I stuck two fingers in his mouth and he sucked like a good boy. I ran my other hand down the length of his cock and played with his balls. I think he said my name but my fingers in his mouth blocked the word from developing. I took my wet fingers out of his mouth and put them on the tip of his cock.

"Oh Jesus..." snow collected on Brace's tongue when he sighed, quickly dissolving in his warm saliva. He slithered about beneath me as I took him in my mouth. The tip of his cock was salty and syrupy and warm and I sucked hard for a teasing moment.

"Yeah..." he sighed and then he moved a little when I took him out and left it in the cold. He lifted his head, wanting me to keep going.

I never felt so turned on. I imagined him spilling across my tongue; the warmth of it would make up for the wintry air around me. This was the greatest thing – making out outside in the snow. The cold, clean air made his smell all the more delicious.

"We could do it right here," he panted. We were pulling at each other's hair with the will to rip it out. That bed, that bed. Maybe it would be nice to be locked away...

"Tell me what you'd do to me in that cage bed," I told him.

"Oh god..." I don't know if his reaction was caused by what I said or my warm, wet pussy teasing the tip of his hot cock.

"I want us locked up there together, god...Joey..." he shut his eyes tight, close to popping off. I looked up at a boat in the canal. It was moving so slowly, way out there in the grey water. It was still snowing a little. "The next time we have a couple of days off together – just stay in there with you, naked, just stay..." I kissed him so the next words he was going to so say melted on my tongue. His eyes were shut; he was completely lost in pleasure. I ran my hands through his sideburns, studied his long eyelashes and kissed his forehead as I moved around against him some more.

"Joey..." he sighed. His eyes shut tight and his Adams apple jutted forward as I pressed against him the hardest I ever had. "I'm gonna cum..."

Cum. I waited and pushed some more, wanting to feel his warm, salty cum all over me. "Cum then," I whispered.

He sighed as his head lifted and the rest of him was trapped under my selfish sex. It only took a few more seconds until it shot out between my fingers, causing the cum to spray in different directions. I cupped my hand over his mouth to keep him from screaming too loud, his own cum wet his lips and cheek.

"Oh god..." he sighed afterwards. He moved in the sexiest way, one booted foot left the ground for an entire minute. Then he just lied completely still. I looked up as that boat in the canal vanished in a wintry mix of fog and snow.

26

Ashley was home when we got back. She was wearing pajama pants and a see-through white t-shirt. I could see her nipples. Her red dreadlocks were all over the place. In the dim light of the kitchen, they looked like red snakes sprouting up from her head.

"Hey," she greeted us as we came in. I just wanted to take the boy to his room and play some more, but Brace stopped to talk to Ashley. I wondered if she could smell the cum on his face or the snow on his jacket. I loved all of his smells wafting off of him.

"Guess what's on the way here?" he said to her. He obviously wanted to talk about that freaky bed. "You'll never believe it."

"A record deal?" she joked.

"No – something better – you know how that asylum just got shut down on Randolph?"

"Yeah, god it's creepy." She stared down at the kitchen counter and shook her head. "I walked the long way home the other night just to avoid it." Maybe Ashley wasn't as gothic as she looked. Then I heard her mutter, "It was in my dream the other night..."

"Yeah well we got a piece of history," Brace went on. I didn't have a good feeling about any of this. Ashley looked up from her brownie mix. The leftover chocolate in the bowl looked really yummy. I couldn't believe I was already hungry again.

"What is it?" she asked, rather dreadfully. I could tell she wasn't one for surprises or having to ask questions twice. Brace leaned against the counter while he talked to her. The body language between them was so relaxed.

"A cage bed from the asylum."

"Brace...are you serious?" Ashley glanced over at me. She looked concerned.

"Got it from the Salvation Army – I'm gonna talk to Doug, we have to put it in a music video. We can get that girl Melanie from that sex shop in Evanston to be in it."

Who? I tried to keep up. I also tried to keep up with their body language. Ashley gave Brace quite a look until he announced he was going to wash his face. Ashley looked over at me after he walked off. I still had my coat on because it was still freezing in here.

"You want to eat this brownie mix with me?" she asked me. I think she could tell I was a little out of sorts by everything.

"Yes." This excited me. I hadn't "licked the bowl" since I was little. My mom used to make brownies all the time.

"I thought the smell of chocolate was coming from the chocolate factory," I said as I walked over to her. I stood in front of the light in the oven where it was very warm.

"Yeah, that's actually what made me want to do this." She let me have the giant spoon and I collected some chocolate mix from the side of the bowl. "I crave chocolate all the time because I live here."

I didn't say anything. In a few short hours, that cage bed would be here.

"You okay?" she asked. "He's starting to show his weird side – that's kind of what did it for me."

"What...what do you mean?" I licked the spoon. Were we going to share it? I guess so, she took it and scooped some up and put it right in her mouth.

She looked at me and batted her pale green eyes. "Seriously? He hasn't told you we dated?"

So chocolate wasn't the only thing we shared.

"No, actually." I was so pissed. I couldn't believe it. Brace came back from the bathroom to collect me and could tell something was wrong.

"What?" he shrugged. I went into his room to collect my things to go home. The thought of seeing Virginia filled me with dread but I couldn't stay here now. He hadn't told me that – he obviously hadn't told me for a reason.

"What is it?" he came into his room and shut the door. He was so tall he nearly blocked the whole thing.

"I need to go home." He just stood there and watched me, his long dreadlocks shadowing his face. I didn't look back at him; I just collected my clothes from his floor.

"Please tell me why first – what did she say?"

I turned around and he was still standing in front of the door with his hand on the doorknob.

"Do not block me from the door please," I simply requested. He moved but then I didn't. I didn't want to go, but I deserved an explanation.

"You said she was your roommate – you never said she was your girlfriend." I was so heated, but I wasn't going to yell. I didn't like yelling from other people or myself.

"Ex," he confirmed. "She's my ex-girlfriend and I was going to tell you."

"When?" I demanded. I knew Ashley could hear us fighting. Was that what she wanted? The thought suddenly crossed my mind. I think she still liked Brace. I mean, why would someone live with their ex if they didn't?

"When you told me what's really going on with you." He raised his voice a little. I didn't like it.

"I can't tell you – I'm sorry. I'm not ready to talk about it, but I promise you it's not what you think."

"Okay great. How do you know what I think?"  
"You think I'm seeing someone else and I'm not. And I'm certainly not living with an ex!" The thought of me and Virginia ever dating almost made me laugh. Almost.

We both stood there in great silence, hating the fact that we were having our first real fight.

"It's hard...if not impossible to be in a relationship with someone who is keeping something from you," he eventually said.

"We both are keeping stuff..."

"I promise you that there's nothing going on between Ashley and me now. I know it's weird, but we're still friends. We dated for a couple of months and then she moved in and then we – we had a volatile relationship – but she can't find a place yet and I'm not just going to kick her out in the cold."

"You are sweet," I said, almost like it was an insult.

"I care about her," he went on. "And she's looking for a place to move but she hasn't saved enough money yet. I care about people, Joey. It doesn't change when we break things off. I'm the type to..." he paused before two more words fell from his lips in the softest mumble, "Get attached."

"There aren't nights when...you're both home and you get drunk and you just figure...hey, why not have sex, like what's the big deal? We've already done it..." I wiped a tear from my face. "You live together – it just seems so convenient."

"That's not how it works," he said, devastated I would think that way.

I was really starting to like Brace. I tried to stop it, every day leaving right at the first second of 5 pm, practically running out of Paper Cut to the L. He wanted to have sex with me before telling me about him and Ashley.

"You're going to latch onto this aren't you?" he said. "Because there's something keeping you from getting close to me and now you've found your exit."

"No." There goes that word again. I wiped another tear from my face.

"Joey?" He wanted me to look at him before he said anything else. I took my eyes off of the shoebox of egg shakers and looked at him. "There's nothing convenient about this. I haven't had sex with Ashley in six months – I like you. I'm with you because I like you. It's kind of awkward to run into your ex every day when you go to the bathroom."

"You two seem to get along fine," I said, furious. I tried to calm down. I also tried not to look at him because it was a distraction and I knew I wouldn't be able to stay mad. I believed him when it came to Ashley but now I knew it was my turn to tell him what was going on with me and I wasn't ready.

"Will you come here and hold me?" I eventually asked.

"Come here and let me hold you," he said, somewhat combative. There was a little boy in there, a little boy with secrets.

I walked over to him and pressed my body against his. I ended up pushing him against the door and unbuttoning his pants. He had great stamina and was already ready to go again. He pulled me down to the floor and moved some stuff out of the way.

"Please let me fuck you," he said. "Or at least taste you." What was happening? That fight was like a curtain we just ripped through to see out of the window. He was pulling my jeans down already. I felt his breath on my thigh as he pulled my panties down.

"Oh Brace..." I was on fire again for him. I spread my legs and felt his tongue lick my pussy. "Oh! Brace..."

He knew how to lick the anger away.

He grabbed my wrists to keep me from flailing about. He looked up at me.

"Relax, enjoy this, baby," he told me. I relaxed and felt his warm, wet tongue lick me and his thumbs open me up. The heel of my foot pressed down against his spine as he got me very open. My other leg was around his neck. Nothing ever felt this good. He was perfect. He pressed his hands against my bottom and pushed his tongue way up inside of me. My hands slapped against the door.

"AH! Brace...god...oh..." This was almost too intense to take. "Brace!" He kept his tongue wiggling inside of me as his thumbs kept me open. My hand hit the door like an object that had been hurled from the other side of the room. He just kept going, undistracted, and I was incredibly wet – partly from his mouth and partly from my own juices.

"Brace god Brace..." I was actually scratching the door like a wild cat. Could Ashley hear? Good.

"Mmm," he moaned as my taste coated his tongue. Then I felt the most amazing sensation. It took hold of every part of me and blew away all that ailed me. All the awful hurt Daniel caused was gone, at least for that moment, gone from my body, shot up to nevermore. My body jiggled like crazy as his hands held my soft thighs and watched me shake and twitch.

"BRACE!" I cried his name out in that tiny bedroom with all the emotion I had in me. Different kind of tears rolled down my cheeks. Thankful ones. That was the first time anyone had given me an orgasm besides myself. I even hit my head against the door during the brilliant chaos when it happened.

"Oh, baby..." Brace quickly got up to check on me. "Are you okay?" He gently touched the top of my head. "Baby," he sympathized and kissed the top of my head as I kept saying his name in worship and shock.

"Brace..." he held my hands in his and kissed my head again.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yes." I fell into him, laughing a little. "Yes I'm okay."

I was okay. Exhausted and numb but in the best way. He wrapped his arms around me and I saw how erect he was. I kissed him and lied down on the floor.

"I'm ready," I said.

"You sure?"

"Yes." I pulled him down against me and wrapped my legs around him. He was very gentle, entering me slowly and not letting go of my gaze on him. It felt much better than I expected.

"Brace..."

I loved how he held my hands against my chest as he pushed up inside of me and looked into my eyes. I closed my eyes for a second because it was a little painful, but a brilliant pain.

"You okay?" he checked.

"Yes...yes...Brace..." I wanted to hold him, but I loved how safe my wrists felt in his hand. I also loved how he touched my bottom and kissed me as he fucked me.

And then it happened again.

27

Afterwards, we just lied around his room. It was nice. He pulled the blanket off of his futon to wrap around us. We were sticky and naked and tired. He was holding me and kissing me on the head.

I realized as we laid there in the dark, our bodies smelling like each other, that I didn't really know much about Brace's childhood.

"Did you always want to be a musician?" I asked. I waited for him to take his cigarette out of his mouth. It was so quiet that I could hear the paper crinkle when he inhaled.

"No...actually." His voice was so awesomely hoarse and mellow. "I had no idea what I wanted to be. But then...when I was, like, sixteen, this kid took me to this concert and I was like, okay yeah, I can get with this."

I loved how Brace talked. It calmed me down.

"Can I ask you...about the bed?"

"You can ask me anything you want, Joey."

"Why do you want it – is it really just for a video?"

He got quiet for a minute. I knew what he was about to say would involve Ashley just like the air involved his cigarette smoke.

"Ashley told you some stuff, huh?"

"No...she did say you had a freaky side."

"I like to explore...I have dark fantasies, but if you're not into it then it's totally fine." He looked at me, really wanting me to know that. "I just wanted it. I don't know – I know it's weird..."

Brace got very quiet and finished his cigarette, keeping one arm around me as his other reached for the ashtray. His smell was all over the place, it coated me too. I turned and put my hand on his chest to tell him it was alright. Everything was. I felt something troubling him deep inside. I think we both had something we couldn't tell each other yet.

"Are you ticklish?" I asked, getting excited about it.

"I think you'd know if I was ticklish by now – you've touched me everywhere." A slight smile took hold of his face just then.

"Not everywhere..." I said, kissing his neck as he put his hands on my bottom.

"Oh wow..." he shut his eyes and moved against me. The boy just stayed hard.

"You're not the only one with a freaky side," I said. We started kissing some more, hard and heavy like we wanted to disappear down each other's throats.

"You wanna do bad stuff to me?" he said in his sexy, scratchy voice.

"Yes," I sighed.

"I can't believe we finally had sex," he said between kisses.

"I'm sorry it took so long..."

"No – don't be sorry," he stopped kissing to say. "I would've waited longer...but damn..." we kissed some more, until Ashley's voice erupted from the other side of the door.

"Yo! That freakin' bed's here."

Brace and I looked at each other with the same frozen smile of excitement.

28

I still needed to go back home. I needed to get some more things from the apartment. I hoped Virginia would be at work, but when I got home she was in her usual spot in the kitchen, smoking. She leaned forward to look at me when I walked in.

"Hey." Not even two seconds after she said hey, the cigarette was back in her mouth. She had her legs crossed and her foot was moving in a twitching motion like she was upset about something.

"I'm going to take a shower," I said. I knew I smelled pretty rank – like him. I didn't exactly want to wash the smell off, but I wasn't planning on staying here tonight. In fact, I wasn't planning on ever coming back. I didn't have a plan and I didn't even care. I'd crash at Brace's and figure things out.

"I need to talk to you," Virginia said like she was trying to cut my good mood up with her dreary tone.

"I'm going to get you the money I owe you, I swear. I just need a couple of..."

"It's Daniel," she said. Ugh, that name. I hated that name. I stopped and looked at her. "You know that girl at the tattoo shop with the rose tattoo on her arm?"

"Rose?" Everyone called her Rose. She was always smoking outside of the shop.

She was very pretty and nice and everyone loved her. If Boystown ever had a Punk Prom just for the hell of it, all the boys would ask her out; and some girls too.

"Yes."

"She was raped – Daniel raped her two nights ago." The words hit me one by one, and they were loud, like grenades exploding around my feet, deafening and blinding. So this was my fault. It was. It was all my fault.

"Why didn't you just go to the cops?" Virginia said.

"You try going to the police station and talking to a strange man about being attacked – you try it..." the tears were already falling down my cheeks.

"IT DIDN'T HAPPEN TO ME!" she shouted right back. "Because I'm not stupid enough to invite someone over here that I DON'T know!" Virginia was pointing at herself and yelling so loud. I couldn't take it. I could not deal with any of this.

"I know! Just please stop! Please!" I covered my face and sat on the bed and started crying. After a minute I managed to calm myself down. When I cried about Daniel the tears were warmer and ran faster.

I got off the bed. The bed where he'd been. "Is she going to the cops?" I asked.

"They came to her," Virginia shot back. "They visited her in the hospital. She told them."

I stood there for a minute. I couldn't feel the floor under my feet. I couldn't feel anything. Then I felt regret. And I felt stupid. Why? Why did I have to invite him over? Why couldn't I have just come home? Why couldn't I have met Brace instead of Daniel? Why? I felt very angry just then. I grinded my teeth together like I could make them sink into my gums. I think I even growled like a dog.

"Joey?" Virginia called my name. Everything got very, very quiet. I felt like hurting myself. The hospital. I didn't want to hear anymore. My stomach hurt. I had to go somewhere. I didn't even care where. I didn't care what happened to me.

I could feel Virginia's eyes on me as I collected what few things I owned and threw them in a pink roller derby bag I bought at a thrift store that read You Snooze You Bruise across it. I wished I had that teddy bear I saw behind the Salvation Army. I should have taken him.

"You really have nothing more to say?" Virginia snapped. "You know – you don't come home, you never have enough money for bills and now some psycho knows where I live. I know you didn't cause the damage to Rose but you could have helped stop it. He's sick, Joey – and he's smart. She met him at the same place we did, he said the same stuff to her."

I plugged my ears. I just wanted it to go away. And then I started screaming. I didn't want to scream, I never wanted to hear the rage that was inside me but it just poured out.

"SHUT UPPPPPPPPP!!!!!! SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!!! SHUT UP!!!!! JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP PLEASE!!!!!!!! PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!!" My throat was sore from being so upset. I felt like someone climbed down my throat and set it on fire. Virginia had left. It took me about five minutes to realize it because this rage was blinding. My whole body was shaking from it. I didn't feel the floor beneath my feet. I had to pack. I had to leave. I felt sick and dizzy like I was trapped in that vicious summer all over again. I wanted to hurt myself. I didn't deserve anything good. I certainly didn't deserve Brace. Maybe I should just leave the city. Leave everything. Brace was better off without me.

Part 2

The Pink Agency

29

I couldn't see Brace anymore. I didn't deserve him. He deserved a girl that could love him without all these demons on her shoulders. I deserved to stay lost.

I stayed at the hostel in Boystown as much as I could stand it. Everyone else in the city was gearing up for the holidays while I walked around in my same jacket and jeans and Doc Martens and staked out pool halls, spending the next three weeks drinking and getting better at pool. One night I thought I saw Daniel until I remembered he shaved his head and the guy I thought was him turned out to be the lead singer of Korn.

I kept walking, feeling the cold snatch up the last bit of my sanity until I ended up at this place called Riverside Racket. I was sick inside. I was really very sick. I started wondering if Daniel raped someone before me and maybe they didn't report it so he got to me. I was sick inside.

I wondered up to the bar in a stupor, bumping into people and not caring. The bar was on Randolph Street, not too far from where Brace lived. I would drink until I could forget it all.

"Wolf's Tooth Ale," I ordered.

"We don't have that," I was clearly informed by the bartender. I quickly scanned the options.

"Rabbit Hole then." Rabbit Hole Ale was a new ale out of Boston. I watched as the golden beer filled the glass, leaving a nice head at the top. I had four hundred dollars to last until I got a new job or simply ended. I put a twenty on the counter and just walked off.

"Hey? Want your change?" The bartender called out. I didn't want my change. He shrugged and pushed it down into his tip jar. I had cashed my last paycheck from Paper Cut and stopped showing up to work. Once the money ran out I didn't know what I would do and I didn't care.

Some guys were playing a pretty intense game of pool. There were five of them surrounding the table and it looked like money was involved. Most of the guys had beards and tattoos, wore baseball caps and flannel, and looked like all they ever did was play pool. There was money stacked on the little shelf where they had their beers. While two guys played an intense game, everyone else watched, their eyes committed to the balls as they rolled around on the table. I knew the guy winning was Thomas because the other guys kept saying stuff like, "Thomas is unbeatable. Thomas is gonna make everyone go broke."

I wanted to play Thomas.

I looked at the guy leaning against the pinball machine who was part of the gang. He had blonde curly hair that sprouted up in unruly holiness from under his baseball cap. He was attractive but I wasn't interested – I just wanted to find out more about the game. I tried to be nonchalant as I approached him, walking over there with my beer and nearly getting stabbed in the gut by the cue stick when Thomas took another successful shot, getting three balls in different pockets. That was how I wanted to play. I wanted an effortless win.

"So...how does this work?" I asked the blonde curly-haired guy. He looked down at me and stopped leaning against the pinball machine. The other guys glanced over at me but immediately returned their gaze to the game. Thomas was about ten seconds from winning and strutted around the table like a guy in a beer commercial.

"How does what work?" the blonde guy asked.

"The game – you guys are playing for money?"

"Always," he just said, looking back at the pool table.

"I want to play." I could tell he wanted to laugh. He kept his amusement contained to a small, wry smile and looked at the table.

"I have money," I said, talking a little louder this time, so my voice rose above the loud Seven Mary Three song playing.

"How much?" Blonde boy was cocky.

"Four hundred dollars, I want to play with it." I realized what I said sounded weird. "With the money," I quickly explained.

He gave me a side-glance and slowly walked over to Thomas, who had just won the game and was collecting the cash next to his beer.

Thomas looked over at me. He didn't smirk or make any type of expression. He just shrugged and drank his beer as blonde boy came back over.

"Okay, you're all set," he told me.

They didn't think I was going to win. Well, I'd show 'em. I stared at the tribal tattoo on Thomas's wrist as I chalked my cue stick.

"How much you wanna bet?" He got straight down to business.

"Four hundred." I couldn't believe I said it – the words just jumped from my mouth.

Thomas's eyebrows rose and he just stared at me, openmouthed. He reached into his back pocket and took out the four-hundred he just won and slapped it on the table. I walked over and dropped all the money I had on top of it. Thomas looked over at the blonde and pointed at him.

"Your ass is mine after this, Bradley," Thomas said.

The blonde just laughed and said, "I'm ready whenever, dude."

"I want to break," I announced. My serious tone made the laughter around me fade a bit.

"Yeah, cool." Thomas couldn't care less. He set the balls up as I got ready. I wanted to shoot like Thomas. I wanted to release the stick as fast as he did, as sharp and quick and yet casual, and make the balls roll chaotically until they fell down into the dark pockets. I would love to get at least three balls in on my break.

Breathe, be calm.

I positioned myself at the end of the pool table so I was facing Bradley. I leaned forward and remembered what Brace had told me about looking like I knew what I was doing even if I didn't. You can fool people. I wished I wasn't so nervous, but there were a lot of eyes on me.

I moved the stick back and then released and watched as the balls scattered like they couldn't wait to get away from one another. My eyes tried to keep up as a green solid went into a pocket and a solid red went into another. Some of the guys around us straightened up a bit, becoming more engrossed. I didn't jump up and down the way I wanted to. I wanted to be serious yet cool. One of the guys.

Thomas moved when I went over where he was standing. I wanted to go for the orange ball this time because it was halfway between the pocket I just made and the one in the left corner. All I could think about was if I won, that was a lot of money. I might not have to spend the night at Melrose Diner tonight or go back to the depressing hostel next to the Abbott Hotel. I'd almost rather sleep in the creepy park nearby. Eight hundred dollars was a lot of money.

"Okay, pool shark, let's go," Thomas joked. "Bar closes at three."

I couldn't believe it when the orange went in! Play it cool. I didn't even look up at any of the men surrounding me. I wouldn't let them intimidate me with wisecracks. I pretended Brace and I were playing, his sweet voice in my ear and his protective bedroom eyes always on me. I missed him terribly. Good, I deserved to be sad.

I stared down at the table and planned. Which one next? I tried to choose as my heart kept pounding. My palms were sweaty now which made playing a bit tricky. I already felt like I wasn't going to get a fourth ball in, which was a horrible way to think. I knew once Thomas had a chance, he'd dominate until the game was over. It was just keeping the game mine that mattered.

One of the guys cleared his throat impatiently as I waited too long to decide my next move. I finally decided to attack the purple one. If it bumped the yellow, the yellow might go in too. I hit the striped blue which was closest and the purple ball ran along the edge of the table but didn't make it into the pocket. I thought it was all over.

I watched as Thomas just leaned forward and hit a ball right away. Maybe he thought too much of himself, because he got nothing in and just like that, the game was mine again.

"Won't be long, dude," Thomas said to Bradley when Bradley seemed to be losing confidence in Thomas.

For my next shot, all I had to do was clip the blue ball with a stripe and I was certain it would go in. But it wasn't just that – if I could clip the blue ball and the yellow then I could possibly get both balls in and that would be extraordinary. Then we'd almost be tied when it came to how many stripes and solids were left on the table.

The speed of the cue when I struck the ball was everything. As I stood there, bent over so my butt was almost touching Thomas's leg, I heard one of the guys snicker at something but the sound of the balls rolling and falling into pockets shut them up fast. That awesome hollow thump of two solids going in was all that mattered.

30

There were two stripes and one solid left. All I had to do was make this shot and eight hundred dollars was mine.

"She thinks she's a badass, bro," Bradley snickered as I went over to where he was standing to shoot. There was just enough space between the table and the pinball machine to get in position.

Bradley leaned forward to whisper some bullying words in my ear. "You think you're a badass?"

I didn't say anything. I didn't think I was a badass; all I wanted to do was win this game. It was a pretty clear shot too – all I had to do was hit it just right and it would go in the right center pocket. I didn't even need to focus as much as I was. I just gave it a slight hit and it went right in the pocket.

Only a few seconds occurred before I realized what just happened and my fists flew up into the air.

"I WON! I FUCKING WON!" The guys weren't saying anything, but a few people up at the bar turned and looked at me and this drunk woman with black hair shouted, "YOU GO GIRL!" before turning back to nurse her beer. "I FUCKING WON I FUCKING WON EIGHT HUNDRED FUCKING DOLLARS!"

I threw my cue stick down and grabbed the cash before they could stop me and got the hell out of there.

"I FUCKING WON!" I just screamed into the street. The street was abandoned because of snow. It looked so pretty – how the streetlights turned the white stuff into a glow. The winter sky was purple. The cold seemed to freeze everything into a brand new start. And I won. I fucking won.

I turned the corner and walked down a quiet street of warehouses and saw two people walking in the middle of the street towards the river. They both had dreadlocks and tall, lanky bodies.

"BRACE!! BRACE!! ASHLEY!" I called out and ran up to them. They both turned and saw me but were reluctant to slow down at first. "Brace!" I screamed his name until I was out of breath. "I just won eight hundred dollars playing pool!"

They just stared at me. I thought he'd be really happy for me, or at least mildly impressed, but he didn't move or crack a smile. He just slipped his hands into his black overcoat. He had on plain black jeans and black boots and that nice cream-colored shirt he usually wore with his leather pants.

"I won..."

"Where have you been?" he cut me off. He wasn't rude as much as hurt.

"I don't...I moved and..."

"You stopped coming to work – I've been trying to get in touch with you. I haven't heard from you in almost three weeks." He was obviously pissed.

I glanced at Ashley. She stood right next to Brace and hadn't said anything to me yet. She had this curious frown on her face. They were out awfully late together and looked like they'd been bonding over something serious. Two people talking about things no one else in the world could understand.

"I'm going to go on down to the river," Ashley said, giving Brace and I some time alone. Brace nodded and looked like he even wanted to kiss her goodbye or something.

"You can't just do that to people, Joey," he said once Ashley was gone. I could see tears in his warm, dark eyes. "I thought I was your boyfriend – I guess we broke up and no one told me."

"No! No, it's just that...you deserve better than me..."

"I don't want better – I want you..." he turned away, frustrated. "God, Joey! What the fuck..." He turned back around, his fingers laced together and his hands behind his head like he was under arrest.

"I'm sorry, I'm going through something and I don't know how to deal with it yet or talk about it." My eyes fell down his body. He looked so great, all the time. "Brace..."

"I've been through a lot too and so has Ashley and so has every other person I've met in this city but we don't take it out on other people and make it worse for them, we don't screw people over at work either. I had to work eight days in a row because you just disappeared...Pete's been fuckin' freaking out." He was really mad. I took a few steps back but the ground was slick and I nearly slipped. Even in his anger with me, he reached out and took my arm to keep me from falling. Then he put his hands right back behind his head.

"You gotta tell me what's going on with you, Joey," he made clear, his eyes turned down on me. "That's the only way this is going to work. Whatever it is..." he looked up at the swollen wintry clouds. "Just tell me."

"I'm sorry – I missed you, I really did." I saw the tears in his eyes develop more until they fell down his cheeks.

"Not what I want to hear." He didn't sound like he was crying, but he was.

"Brace, I'm sorry."  
"You can't just do that to people – abandon them."

"I'm sorry..." I took a few steps so I was closer to him again and started to put my hand on his chest. He moved away and his brown eyes just stared me down.

"We all have our...things, Joey." He was talking so soft I could barely hear him. "I really don't like being left alone." He swallowed over the lump in his throat I could practically see, and just let the tears fall. They fell from his chin to the soft white ground. Brace was so beautiful – the haunting kind of beautiful. "That's my thing," he said, his voice soft as the snow.

"Baby, I'm sorry."

"If you want this, you gotta start talking to me, you can't just leave people and avoid your problems and quit your job – that's not how life works." He aimed his eyes at me and now they were solid and dry. "You understand?"

I liked his stern voice.

"I don't think you love yourself, Joey," he said. "That's upsetting."

"Please, I'm sorry, please, I don't want to be alone tonight. I'll tell you everything, please...let's go get a drink somewhere – I can pay for it."

Brace looked around, uncertain. It was as if he was silently debating – dissecting every word I said to him. As I stood there in front of him, I realized how much I needed him. I couldn't just leave this like this.

Put your eyes back on me and let's just go somewhere.

"You have to give me one more chance," I begged. "Please."

He just looked at me. He didn't seem to have heard what I said. I really thought he was just going to turn around and walk away.

"You won't do that again?" he checked. He looked like such a sad little boy.

"No."

I watched as his hand slowly left his side and reached for mine. My hand held his in the space between our bodies as the snow fell on our fingers.

"I'm taking Ashley with us, cool?" he said.

"Yes."

31

Ashley took us to a low-key bar just around the corner from where they lived. Brace held my hand as we crossed the slippery cobblestone street. It was so dark inside the bar I couldn't see my feet. It was like my legs didn't exist beyond the knees. While she got us all drinks, Brace and I grabbed a booth. I could tell he was still a little emotional about everything.

"So you and Ash hanging out tonight?" I tried not to pry, I figured I didn't have the right, but I was curious.

"Yeah," he said after a minute. "She's having those nightmares again...the vampire ones." He looked up at me after a minute.

"Oh..." I watched as Ashley brought all three beers over to the table. She even smiled as she placed them down for us and sat next to me instead of Brace.

"So, what were you saying about winning money?" she inquired. She had an upbeat way about her that rescued us all from the tension.

"I won eight-hundred dollars playing pool," I gasped. I still couldn't quite believe it. Amazement filled Ashley's freakishly beautiful green eyes as she gawked at Brace.

"I'd forgive her," she simply said to him before sipping her beer. We all shared a laugh and the night finally felt salvageable.

"I do." Brace let me know he meant it by looking right into my eyes when he said it. His brown eyes sparkled with mystery and passion. Then his eyes landed on my duffel bag and he gave it a curious frown.

"What's in there? More money?"

"No...I sort of don't...live anywhere right now."

Ashley's eyes expanded and dropped on me. "You're homeless?"

"No...kind of...but now I have all of this money," I said.

"You can stay with us," Brace said before looking at Ashley questionably. "If that's cool..."

"It's totally cool," Ashley insisted. "We can look for new places together."

"Thanks." I was very grateful for her friendship. "And I want to pay for the next round."

"I'm going to the jukebox," Ashley announced. "Any requests?"

"If they have any Garbage – any Garbage song," I said.

"Some Sleater-Kinney and some Clash," Brace said before his eyes hit mine and he lit a cigarette. I felt like he had something else to say to me but he was waiting for privacy. Once Ashley left, he leaned over the table.

"Should I put you in that cage bed?" he asked and immediately all the stress in my body turned to lust.

"Maybe...yeah..." His boot found my leg under the table. He sipped his beer and looked away for a minute. I could see the polite Brace in there somewhere, but he seemed hostile tonight.

"Yes," I gave my official answer. "You can lock me in the bed." He brought his eyes back over to me and his boot traveled up to my knee.

"I want us to both spend some time in it together though. We have to make up for lost time." I felt so horny I almost felt sick. My heart fluttered with both fear and excitement as a Garbage song kicked in and Ashley returned with a second round of drinks.

"You sure?" Brace asked. "Cause I want to. I have tomorrow off – I think you do too." He finally smiled and I felt his anger towards me fade.

"How'd you know?" I joked. We took each other's hand and held on tight.

"Hey?" he wanted me to look at him. "I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do."

"I want to."

He winked at me and Ashley slyly put her arm around me as Brace pressed his boot against my crotch. I slid down so I could be closer to it, until the pressure was almost too great.

"We missed you," Ashley said, holding my free hand.

When we got back to the loft, Ashley went into the kitchen for a glass of water and Brace disappeared into his room for a minute. It had been a while since I'd been here. I missed it. I missed the big, bare windows. I missed the wide open space. I even missed how cold it was here. I definitely missed the faint aroma of chocolate.

"Come in here for a second," Ashley called for me. What did she want? I felt all night that this might turn into some weird threesome. I slowly walked across the cold room into the kitchen.

"He has real abandonment issues," Ashley whispered. "Has he told you anything about his childhood?"

I shook my head. "Not really." She made his past sound like a big mystery novel.

Apparently she knew a lot more about him than I did.

"He wants to put you in that cage now...to make sure you don't go anywhere." She made it sound like I made a huge mistake by ignoring him for three weeks. "I don't know..." she shook her head for a minute, unable to find the right words. "Don't hurt him again," she ended up saying. "Brace is a good guy but...don't hurt him."

I wasn't sure if it was a warning or what. I heard Brace's bedroom door open as he came back out in his black jogging pants.

"Come to bed," he called. Which one? I wondered as I went off to his room.

32

We both somehow managed to squeeze into the cage. Brace had changed the sheets and got rid of the creepy hospital bracelet that was in it. A pair of handcuffs hung from the cage's netting above us. That was new. I also noticed how the netting in one corner was dented like someone tried to kick their way out of the cage.

"You want in them?" Brace asked, his brown eyes darting up to the cuffs. "Or you want me in them? I don't care as long as we're both here together."

I just tried to breathe. I also tried to stop wondering about who had been in this cage bed prior to us. I knew one thing that could get my mind off of it.

"Kiss me," I said.

He perked up. "I love the way you say that – I missed it." He gave me his best kiss yet.

"I love you, boy." I moved my hand across his chest and down his leg, teasing him, not yet touching him where I knew he was dying to be touched. "You..." I whispered. "Put your hands in those cuffs." I managed to get the whole sentence out right before our mouths clashed into a crazy hungry kiss. I swear it was so hard we could have broken bones.

"I love you too," he whispered. His words were soft and warmed my ear.

"Baby..."

He slipped his wrists through the cuffs and I clamped them shut and marveled over the fact that his body was mine. He smelled the way he always did. I took my time pushing his cream colored shirt up his stomach, exposing that sexy trail of hair leading down to his penis. I ran my hand over the hair and found him in the black cotton jogging pants. I wanted to play with him all night. I licked his skin as I unbuttoned my jeans. I pushed them down over my feet and set them aside.

"Mmm, Brace." He moved around a little as our bodies pressed together longingly. I looked up at his flesh squeezed in the metal cuffs. "Brace," I sighed his name into his ear and finally touched his jogging pants where I could feel his cock swelling and turning.

He moved his body in the sexiest way, pushing himself against my hand, begging for another touch.

"You want it?" I teased him.

"Yes, please." I put my fingers in his mouth. Everything about him was so warm and his brown eyes reflected the fact. I teased him, pushing his jogging pants down a little around his sexy jutted hips and then stopping.

"Please, Joey," he begged, writhing about.

"Say please again."

"Please," the boy knew how to beg.

"Five times in a row," I demanded.

He let out a heavy sigh for a minute as I pushed my hand down on him from the outside of his jogging pants. "I'll take you out and suck you if you say please five times the right way."

The word shot out of his mouth in the heaviest of sighs.

"Please, please...please...please...please."

"Good boy." I reached in and my hand warmed up instantly from him. "Brace," I sighed his name against his neck as I wrapped my hand around his cock. "So big..." I kissed him hard before slithering down his body. His whole body expressed how bad he wanted to be touched and loved.

"Oh god, please, please." The boy had no shame when it came to begging. Usually he was confident and calm, so seeing him beg like this was engrossing. It drove me crazy. He lifted his head to see me as I licked the tip.

"Joey...oh god..." he tried to move around, his knee banging against the cage.

"You're mine," I said. "And I'm not letting you go until I've tasted every single part of you."

"Ahhh..." he sighed and moved as I took him back in my mouth just for a minute. My tongue wanted to roam other parts of him too. My tongue ran over the hill of his drummer muscle, his arm pit, and down his side and he laughed a little.

"You are ticklish!" I exclaimed like some mad scientist. "Oh..." I climbed around on him, gloating in my discovery. "The boy is ticklish," I said, licking him some more. He moved around and let out heavy sighs like a hot machine about to blow. I ran my other hand down his sideburn and pulled at his dreadlocks to keep his head back and I licked his neck with a nice long stroke of my tongue.

"You like me licking you like that?" I asked.

"Yes...yes..."

"You want me to lick you like that on your cock again?"

"Yes god yes..." He tried to move but his legs were so long his feet kept hitting the cage.

"You didn't say please."

"Please, baby, please..." he was aching for it. I wasn't going to tease him anymore. I ran my tongue along his balls and up the length of his penis. His shirt was pushed up to his neck and I had the most important part of him out of his clothes now. I got on top of him and bit his nipple.

"Oh! Joey..." I loved how he reacted to everything I was doing to him. It was magic being locked in this cage with him. I felt the world leave us alone. We could be prisoners up in space, sex prisoners, and the world was gone. I put him inside of me quick and smooth and fell over him.

"Joey!" I could feel in his voice how he would touch me if he could. "Joey...oh god Joey..." his head was back so his neck was nice and strained and I gave it another hungry, slow lick. The taste of him was all over my tongue. "Joey."  
"Spill in me baby," I told him as I rode him. "Spill."

I moved nice and slow up and down him. He shut his eyes and released a slow sigh and mine quickly followed. I put my hand on his mouth to feel his breath.

"Oh...OH!" I reached up and curled my fingers around the rusty netting and hit my head a few times as I rode him harder. This space was incredibly limited. "Brace!" He was a little painful, but once I got used to his girth and moved a certain way, he started to feel nice – almost too good. I felt like I'd go insane.

"Oh my god, Brace..."

Even though he was helpless in the handcuffs, he tried to fuck me, pushing himself up inside of me as I rode him, his cock taking over everything.

"God...oh..." I fell forward over him so his tongue swept across my breast and my fingers gripped the rusty netting, snagging my skin a little. I moved a little, his cock penetrating me. My breath was all choppy and I knew I was being too loud and Ashley could hear everything and the cage was rocking side to side and it rattled like a fence. "Brace..." I panted. "Oh..."

"Mm," He pressed his lips together and shut his eyes tight.

"You gonna cum, baby?" I slipped my fingers into his mouth and he sucked hard. "You gonna cum in me?" I said so helplessly and he moved a little and I moved a lot and felt him when he popped off. I never wanted his cum in any other girl but me.

33

The next morning we woke up in his cage. I had undone the cuffs so I could sleep in his arms. I moved a little against his body. Sometimes he would move too, until the cage rattled when he hit it, reminding us that we were such confined lovers.

"Hey," he said, soft and mellow. He kissed me on my cheek. I was sore and sticky from him.

"Hey."

"Hungry?" he asked.

"Yeah." I looked up at him and kissed his chin. He needed a shave but I didn't mind the stubble. "How will we get food?"

"The guards will bring us some if we're good," he said. I caught onto his role-playing and almost wondered if he'd arranged for someone to play the guard. Ashley?

"I want to fuck you now, I want to put you in the cuffs," he said, dominant and eager. He moved around but couldn't get on top of me without hitting the side of the cage. He was really serious about spending all day in here.

"Oh Brace," I sighed. My tired body spread out around him as much as it could and I lifted my arms to the handcuffs, sleepily giving in. He reached up and locked my hands in the cuffs and looked around the room. He suddenly seemed detached.

"Hey? Ashley?" he called out.

I stayed still – I didn't really have a choice. I watched as the door opened and Ashley came in, unlocked the caged door and walked back out. Brace got out of the cage and locked me inside. He walked over to his desk and put the key in a ring box. He turned around and just looked at me. He looked so tall from the compounds of this caged bed. I felt so small down on my back, my arms suspended in the air. What was he going to do? He seemed to be silently rummaging through the options. He walked around the cage, calm and dominant as he peered down at me. He could play both submissive and dominant so well it was uncanny. To him it was like changing clothes. It was strange how all this made me feel safe. I felt safe being locked in here with Brace watching me. Daniel couldn't get to me like this – no one could.

"What are you going to do...?" I asked. He put his fingers on the cage and dragged them along the netting before kneeling down on his knees to give me a long, hard stare. His fingers curled through the netting as he kept staring at me. His eyes never looked so brown and sexy.

"Watch you," he eventually answered in that deep voice of his. "And take solace in...knowing you can't go anywhere."

I was so riled up. I was wet and I knew he could smell it and see my sex glisten. I watched him grow and touch himself as he looked at me there before leaning over and placing his hands down on top of the cage. His musty morning aroma hung in the air as I writhed about.

"Oh..." I sighed in playful despair. "I have to pee..." I actually did. He probably thought it was just part of role-play.

He didn't seem to care either way.

"Put your soft feet up against the cage," he told me. I did what he said, pressing the pink soles of my ticklish feet against the rusty cage. Oh my god, did he have a foot fetish? So many things still to explore about each other and now I would helplessly learn what he liked to do to me.

He was right in front of me feet, studying their soft pink bottoms. The only thing that separated us, of course, was the cage. I slipped my toes through the netting and he stuck his tongue out and licked them.

"Bite," I begged. I just wanted to be touched, bitten, some kind of playful torture.

"Don't tell me what to do – I'm your guard," he reminded. "You're our patient we experiment on to find out what makes you crazy." He sounded very different. I writhed about; I was so hot like something was pinching me down there. The stillness in his eyes gave me shivers. "You belong to us; don't make me take you to the chair." I moved around, my body jiggling in the tight little space he had me imprisoned in. I felt his perfect strong teeth slip over my toe.

"Bite it," I kept my eyes shut. "Please." I felt his teeth press down as he jerked off.

"AH!" I wiggled about as his teeth pressed down harder. He wasn't letting go.

34

We spent the evening spooning on the couch and watching a horror movie. He had his arms around my tummy. I wondered if he noticed I'd gained some weight since I last saw him.

"That was so much fun," he said of the role-playing we did. He sounded like himself again. He kissed me on the cheek. "Thank you for playing. God...that was fantastic." I could tell it was something he wanted to explore for a while.

"I liked it." I didn't understand why though, after what I'd been through with Daniel. I didn't understand myself anymore. I wasn't sure if I wanted to.

He put his fingers in my hair. It was really growing out now, and the roots were baby blonde again and the tips were a soft, pale pink.

"You look good, baby," he complimented. "Like a punk rock baby doll." I could tell he was smiling even though I had my back to him.

"I'm fat," I said. Might as well say it out loud.

"No, you're perfect." He squeezed me tighter. "God, I missed you." He was so cute, pressing his nose into my neck. "I missed you so much, I was worried. I thought maybe something happened to you. I fell asleep every night wanting you in my arms. But I guess you just decided...you didn't want to see me for a while."

"I'm sorry..."

"No," he jumped to say. "Its fine, I have you now."

He seemed possessive and desperate and tried to be sweet. His complexities were surfacing now.

"So you had fun today...in the cage?" he asked. "Please be honest – I don't want to scare you or do anything that you don't like."

I wiggled about until I was facing him and he wrapped his arms back around me in a split second, holding me just as tight as before if not tighter.

"You ever have such a great moment that you wish your life was a movie?"I softly whispered. I wanted this moment to be ours. I didn't want anyone else in the world to ruin it. "And...um...the movie would end right then and the credits roll to a great song and then nothing bad could happen again?" I wiped tears from my face and felt his eyes all over me. It was time to tell him.

"Yeah...sometimes..." He waited patiently for the real story to come out. I wanted to be against him. I burrowed against him like I could get inside him and hide from the world. I was like a little mole trying to scurry into a crack between a building and the cracking foundation beneath it. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me on the head, sensing I needed to feel protected.

"It's okay, it's not a movie – so good stuff can keep happening too." It was a sweet thing to say but it just made me cry harder. "Oh baby, what is it?"

I sat up, trying to muster the strength. He took my hand and held it as he looked right at me. After a minute, he reached for the remote and aimed it at the TV to pause the movie. I wished he hadn't. Now, even if I whispered, what I was going to tell him would still sound so loud. He had a serious frown on his face like I was already telling him the ugly story.

"In August...I met this guy and...I made a really stupid decision to invite him over." I couldn't say the next three words. I just didn't want to do this. I felt this agony wash over me. It was awful, I felt my skin crawl.

I reached for the remote to play the movie.

"Hey, hey," Brace finagled the remote out of my hand and stopped the movie altogether. He even ejected it from the VCR and sat up on the couch. "No, you can't start telling me and then stop. Please, Joey. You need to tell me or this won't work." He took my hand again, bringing it over so it was in his lap. "I'm here and that won't change – whatever it is..."

"He hurt me," I said. "He...I was attacked." There. Three words, they were out there now. I studied his face. The frown didn't soften. His brown eyes looked a little wet.

"Who?"

"This guy...he wouldn't stop..." I started crying. "I kept begging him but he wouldn't stop...and now...it's like when you fall hard and you know it's bad but you don't know how bad...and you slowly stand up and..." I could barely get the words out as tears poured down my face into my mouth. "And you realize how bad you're hurt..." I cried hard that time, wetting his shirt.

"Hey, hey, hey," Brace threw his arms around me and held me as I wrapped myself in a little ball and cried on his shirt. "It's okay."

"No it's not – he keeps showing up when I'm out somewhere – the guy in the tiger mask."

"I knew there was something about him – you shoulda told me that night – I would have taken care of it...I have a black belt in karate. Joey, I would have taken care of it."

"No...Brace..." I pulled at his shirt. I didn't know what I wanted. I hated this. He looked down at me and put his hand on top of my head. I cried and pulled at his shirt some more so when I finally let it go, it was all crumpled like paper.

"It's gotten worse – he followed me around – he took that egg shaker you gave me and threw it on the tracks and it got ran over by a train."

"What?" Brace was shocked and repulsed.

"He attacked someone else because of me – she's in the hospital. Brace..."

"Hey." He put his hands back on my wrists. He wanted me to look at him. "Joey, this is not your fault." The clarity in his voice was amazing. I almost believed him. "None of it. He's the one doing it."

"But if I went to the police..."

"Listen to me, Joey," he wrapped his fingers around my wrist and then he put his other hand on my chin. "Look at me and listen to me – okay?"

I looked up at him. "You can't carry this around with you – it might've happened to her whether or not it happened to you. You were a victim," he stated, wanting to get those last four words carefully across. He pushed wet strands of my hair out of my face and gently cupped my chin with his fingers. "No matter what happened, you can't carry this around with you because it's not helping anyone."

"But I could've stopped it."

"It shouldn't have happened," he shook his head. "Period. You get that? It shouldn't have happened to you. Baby, you did nothing wrong. It shouldn't have happened." I cried and he held me tighter.

"I wish it hadn't, I wake up every day wishing all over again that it didn't happen."

I rested my head against his chest.

"You're okay. I gotcha." He wrapped his arms around me and I crawled around until I was as close to him as possible. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to – you deserve at least that."

.

35

I woke up on the blue sofa with Brace's arms still around me. The morning sun touched down on the hardwood floor and gave the scythes on the wall a painful silver shine. Ashley was making quiet noise in the kitchen. I think she really was trying to be quiet, but the softest sounds easily traveled in the otherwise peaceful loft. The kitchen was also just steps away from the couch. I looked over at her and she momentarily smiled as she took a box of pancake mix down from the cupboard and some eggs from the fridge and I thought maybe this was hard for her too – seeing Brace with a new girl.

"Pancakes?" Ashley asked, waking Brace up. Pancakes – I hadn't had pancakes since I was a kid. Brace sat up and looked adorably drowsy, his dreadlocks all over the place as his sleepy brown eyes slowly adjusted to the new day. I snuggled against him, taking in his manly morning scent. I kissed his cheek and ran my nose against his stubble and he ran his hand up and down my back and a smile grew on his face.

"Hey, lovebirds," Ashley called out to us again. "Hungry or no?"

"Yes," Brace said; his voice all hoarse. He cleared his throat and stood up and stretched. He put his hand down in my hair and messed it up in a playful manner.

"Gotta pee," he told me. Then he leaned into whisper, "I want to talk to you about something in a little bit." He gently stroked the left side of my face with his knuckles. Then he looked over at Ashley and pointed at her, raising his voice a bit. "Whatever she cooks, don't eat it. Unless you have a death wish."

"Hey Brace? We both know I can cook by now," Ashley called out in a devil-may-care tone. I couldn't tell if she was really mad at him or just playing around. I also couldn't tell whose hair looked cooler in the morning. I looked up at Brace. I wanted to kiss him, love him. I remembered everything he said last night and I felt a lot better today. Then I remembered I was eight-hundred dollars richer! I stood up and felt fresh energy run through my body. Some days were just days and some days felt like new beginnings. This was the latter.

"Don't listen to him – I know what I'm doing," Ashley told me as I walked into the kitchen.

"I know. I had your brownies, remember?" She smiled at me and I felt like we were becoming good friends.

"Well this is all easy stuff," she said. "Brownies, pancakes – things essentially from a box, but I've cooked that boy great dinners before. Boys don't remember the good stuff."

I watched her crack an egg and let it drop into the pancake mix. It looked fun to mix it all up. "Why do you think he always takes you to a diner?" she added as she started beating the fat egg so it made the mix wet and brown. "I bet he told you he could cook, huh? Yeah maybe – maybe for dogs." She kept beating the egg harder and harder until I couldn't see it anymore. She seemed a little upset, like she wished Brace was that egg. Brace came out of the bathroom and made his way to his room. He was so sleepy – it was cute. He moved his dreads out of his face and ran his hand over his mouth when he yawned.

He stopped just before he got to his room and looked out at us.

"Hey, can you cook?" he asked me. He sounded like he hoped I'd say yes.

"Ha, no. Not at all."

"Oh?" he walked into the kitchen and crossed his arms over his chest. He looked sexy in his black jogging pants. Sometimes he came across as suddenly dominant. Other times he was just a sweet, polite boy. This dominant side I was still getting used to.

He was still looking at me. His eyes possessed a sovereign glow.

"If you don't go try..." he paused like he was trying to think of something clever to say and then he grabbed me and started tickling me. "I'LL TICKLE YOU TO DEATH!"

"NO!" I shrieked so loud it was embarrassing. I saw Ashley cringe at the sound as she cracked another egg. I struggled in Brace's arms as his fingers poked me and he put his lips against my neck and made motor lips. "AHHH!" My cackle turned into a crazy shrill and Brace laughed at it.

"Funny girl," he said, giving me a solid pop on my bottom before releasing me. I felt my cheeks go up in flames because I swear the echo of my strange howling laugh was all over the place. I cleared my throat and tried to act normal.

"You really want me to try and cook?" I eventually said to him. It kind of sounded like a threat.

"Yeah," he said, absolutely positive. He looked over Ashley's shoulder like a kitchen manager. Then he noticed she was barefoot.

He looked at me, his mouth curled up in one corner. "And I want you barefoot like her," he said.

"Sadist," Ashley muttered.

"It's too cold in here," I just said.

"Behave boy," Ashley called out. "Or we'll put you in the cage and make you eat whatever we decide to feed you."

I looked at her, realizing we were on the same page. "But would he like that though?" She looked at me and played along.

"I know, right? You can't win with him."

"Okay, I'll be right back to check on you two in a minute," Brace said before going back into his room.

"You've made pancakes before right?" Ashley asked me, because who hadn't?

"Not really." I was sort of embarrassed.

"It's easy," Ashley spoke. "You just mix this into a batter and then you pour it into the frying pan, wait for it to brown." She pushed the bowl my way and let me mix it into a nice creamy batter. There was something very therapeutic about it – taking numerous things and turning them into one thing. "We have to make sure we clean after or he will and when Brace starts cleaning, he doesn't know when to stop."

"I know – the other night at that party I was waiting forever for him to stop sweeping." I was glad I had someone to discuss that with. I was a little hurt because I thought he'd put the broom away – because he'd rather spend time with me.

"Yeah," Ashley sighed. "On one hand it's nice to actually live with a guy who's clean – at least with the house...but sometimes it just gets...but he can't help it, it's ingrained in him."

"Ingrained? Did he have strict parents?" I didn't think so, that just didn't seem to fit. He never talked about his parents. Ashley silently took the bowl away from me and lit the burner.

"He really hasn't told you anything, has he?" she muttered.

"No..."

"Okay – you wanna pour it?" Ashley asked. She smelled nice, like vanilla. The more I looked at Ashley, the more attractive I found her. She was like a very pretty, punk Pippi Longstocking. I liked cooking with her, but I wanted to keep talking about Brace.

"How's it going with you two – that's enough," she interrupted herself to let me know I'd poured enough mix into the pan, maybe too much. She kept it from running with the spatula.

"Um, good."

"Yeah?" she was curious.

"How long did you too date?" I blurted.

"Date?" she grinned mysteriously. "I don't know if we ever dated – I know how it is with him, he's sexy – and fuckin' hung like an Asian elephant...and it just turns into this...sexual affair. It's like a spell. You can be fighting about something and then you're suddenly kissing. He's a sex god – that's why one day he'll be a rock star." She glanced up at me, her alert eyes like shiny green glass. "I guess we were together for seven months," she finally confessed. Seven. He said six. "God, I need a new place. Okay, see here how the edges are darkening?" she pointed to the pan. I tried to keep up with how she suddenly changed the topic.

"Yeah – I can't believe I don't know how to do this."

"It's not a big deal, it's all about circumstance," she said. "My mom was big on cooking."

Mine was not, though she tried.

"Brace – it's like walking into a dark room and then someone suddenly turns on the light and you see things you had no clue was there. How thick do you want it?"

I tried not to laugh, but her questions sounded sexual.

"Uh..."

"Just be careful," she jumped to say.

"Okay, you wanna just do it?" I wasn't that into cooking. If I had the choice, I'd rather go to a diner and listen to Patsy Cline while someone else cooked.

"No," she said, keeping her voice very low now. "With Brace. Be careful."

Just then Brace came back out, sporting his best outfit of black leather pants and that soft cream colored shirt that was so soft against my cheek and soaked up his scent. God, that boy.

I think he had new boots because I'd never seen them before. They were a dark rustic shiny brown. They were very sexy. He'd also shaved. He threw his arms around me from behind. I loved how affectionate he was, always squeezing me tight and giving me kisses on the cheek. His smell was a mix of his usual body odor and fresh peppermint aftershave.

"I have a surprise for you," he whispered in my ear. "I need you for the whole day and night too."

I turned around and looked at him. I felt close with him and safe and yet I was starting to realize I really didn't know much about him.

"What are we doing?"

"It's a surprise," he said. More mystery. "Say yes," he said.

"Yes."

"Awesome!" Brace went over to the living room area and tidied up a bit, putting the magazines in a neat stack and picking up a bottle cap from the floor I would have never noticed.

"So are you just, like, a pool shark now?" Ashley wondered, scooping some pancakes out and putting them on a plate. "Like Tom Cruise in..."

"Yes!" I laughed.

"No, seriously, eight hundred dollars? That's epic." I loved her enthusiasm.

"I know." I didn't want to brag, but it was pretty cool. Brace came back over, cuffed my wrists in his fingers so my hands were down at my sides and kept me against him. He started licking my neck right there in front of Ashley.

"Thank you for making me breakfast," he said. His cock was stirring about in his black cotton jogging pants. He looked at Ashley as she grabbed the syrup and we followed her to the sofa. "And thank you too, Ashley." His voice was extra deep today.

"What movie did you watch last night?" Ashley asked as we all sat down together.

"Oh, that zombie movie we were talking about," Brace told her. She nodded and took a bite of food.

"How was it?" Ashley asked.

"Better than these pancakes," Brace quickly answered.

"Ha ha," Ashley said. Brace winked at me.

"I'm just kidding, they're fantastic." He nudged me in the side with his elbow.

We ate in silence for a minute until something on the coffee table caught Brace's eye.

"What's that?" Brace put his plate down and excitedly picked up yesterday's copy of Chicago Times.

"Yesterday's paper," Ashley said.

"I didn't see it – look, it's an article on that asylum," he showed Ashley as he lightly slapped me on the arm, wanting me to see too. "Look."

Randolph Asylum, it read. The article was accompanied with pictures of the creepy hospital that was now abandoned. There were pictures of patients that had been kept there. Their eyes were huge and expressed shock or loneliness or, sometimes, just spaces that would never be filled. There were pictures of the inside of the asylum as well – plain white rooms and long dark hallways.

Randolph Asylum, which served the mentally ill since the late 70s, finally closed its doors last month, the article read. Many patients were kept there through the years, spending their days in rooms with barred windows overlooking the river. For now the hospital serves as an eyesore while developers have high hopes for eventually turning it into spacious lofts to rent. While the River West area is still very industrial, that just means it holds a lot of promise for the future of real estate."

"God, I can't imagine living there," Ashley mumbled between bites of food. "Hey, maybe there's a picture of the person that slept in your bed." I found Ashley's sarcasm amusing while Brace ignored it altogether. He flipped through the paper, his long legs spread out as he sat between us. This was starting to feel a bit too comfortable...

"So when are we going on this adventure?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah, soon," Brace confirmed, collecting the plates the minute the last bit of food was cleared. He took them into the kitchen and started washing them. I picked up the newspaper and reluctantly started looking at the asylum article. I looked down at a picture of a patient from the asylum. It was a woman with unruly red curly hair and eyes that seemed wide as empty rooms. I immediately thought of that drawing Larry did of his stepmom.

36

It was cold out but it didn't seem as cold to me as it did in Brace's loft, maybe because I was all bundled up in winter garb and my adventure side had kicked in. Or maybe it was Ashley's subtle cold shoulder...

"Is Ashley a Gemini?" I asked.

"Yeah – why do you ask?" Brace smiled a little.

"Because sometimes she has a nice relaxed smile on her face and other times it looks like she's trying to push a baby out of her asshole."

Brace stopped walking because he was laughing too hard to move. It was awesome hearing him laugh and I realized just then that it was a rare occurrence too. I made sure to cherish the moment, studying every detail of his face. I started thinking about Brace's sign, Scorpio, and realized I had missed his birthday. I didn't know what to say. I looked up at him but he looked happy in the moment so I decided not to bring it up.

"So are you going to tell me where we're going?" I asked instead.

"Evanston." He was going to be secretive otherwise.

We took the train all the way to the Howard Station and another to Evanston. The ride was long, nice and scenic. It looked like it might snow, but it wasn't quite cold enough. The sky was so puffy with clouds I wondered if I'd ever see the real blue again.

We cuddled on the train and held hands. Brace leant his amazing voice to me, whispering in my ear.

"Last night – the fact that you told me that – it means a lot to me," he let me know, his long legs spread as much as they could as he looked down at me. "I hope you know that," he said.

"I do," I smiled at him and looked down at his hand. We'd been together long enough for me to remember every detail of his body when I closed my eyes, like the length and width of his fingers, his smell and the mole on his neck next to his right ear.

"I can teach you karate," he offered.

"When did you take lessons?" I asked. I was seeking for any details about his past.

"Uh...when I was fifteen." I could tell he didn't want to talk about that. "Anyway, it's a big step," he said, watching our fingers entwine. Nothing sounded more pleasant than his voice at this volume. "I have things...to tell you too. I've been holding back. That's part of what this trip is about."

"Really?" I was very surprised. He was finally going to let me in.

"Yes. I wanna be the one to tell you before Ashley. What has she told you?"

"Not much, nothing really. She just asked me if you told my anything yet."

He gave a slight nod and glanced out of the window. The sight of skyscrapers was no longer in view as we headed towards the woodsy suburbs.

"Your childhood?" I could tell I was jumping the gun with my questions. "Is that what..." He wasn't ready. A nervous sparkle lit up his otherwise dark brown eyes.

"There's stuff...yes." He paused and then found it in him to continue. "There's just stuff...I want to talk to you about – I feel like I need to take you out of the city to tell you – does that make sense?" he hoped it did. I'd never seen him bite his bottom lip before. He seemed nervous. "The noises..." he tightened his hand around mine. "I want you to myself."

"Its fine – I need to get out of the city." That was an understatement.

Evanston was a quiet suburb twelve miles north of downtown Chicago, but it felt further from the city than that. Parts of Evanston felt and looked like it was stuck in the 1950s. There wasn't much progression when it came to some of the bookstores, which smelled dank like basements. Their books were so old they made creasing sounds when you opened them and had silverfish as bookmarks. One shouldn't be surprised if a silverfish should appear.

The diners still looked the same they did decades ago. Walls were stained with time, ceiling fans moved at an achingly slow rate. Kids played outside on the sidewalks as their parents shopped in antique stores or finished up their shift at one of the many family-run cafes. There was a huge baseball park in the middle of the town and the smell of freshly cut grass followed us around wherever we went. When we walked by the old movie theatre, the smell of popcorn mixed in with it. It was so quiet here.

"I like Evanston," I said. Brace was silent, chewing on his lip as he listened to me. "I bet in the summer there are a lot of fireflies out."

"There are," he said in his pleasant quiet voice.

He finally looked up and his brown eyes lit up a bit. "This is it!" My eyes lifted from the ground and all that stuff I thought about when it came to Evanston being an innocent place to raise kids sort of vanished when I saw the lingerie and sex shop we were about to go into. It was somewhat subtle, but the neon pink curtains on the windows made it stand out from the decade-old diners and shops. If one stared long enough, they'd spot the dildos and leather whips inside.

"The Pink Agency?" I just said. "What's this?"

Brace giggled and took my hand and held the door open for me. This was not what I was expecting. I thought he was going to open up to me about something concerning his childhood but he just seemed to be thinking about sex all the time lately. Once I let him have sex with me, it just turned into a really sexual relationship – like Ashley had said.

It was dark inside the lingerie and sex toy shop, with lamps here and there with scarves over the lampshades. Skinny Puppy played from a CD player behind the counter and incense burned. A girl with curly blonde hair greeted us when we walked in.

"Hello," she said, about to go back to what she was doing, just fixing some fliers on the counter into a neat stack, when she looked at us a second time and my boyfriend's name exploded from her mouth. "BRACE!" She came running around the counter to greet him with a huge hug. "Brace! What are you doing here?"

He opened his arms out when she slammed against his body gleefully. "Brace!"

"Hey Melanie," he laughed her name out and hugged her. I wondered if her hair was real or a wig. It had an unnatural shine to it.

"Oh man, gotta get out of the city," he said in his cool tone of voice as she finally stepped back from him. "This is my girlfriend Joey," he introduced me. "Joey, this is Melanie."

"Hey Melanie," I said.

"Hey!" she glanced at me with a frozen smile on her face as she looked back at Brace.

Melanie. I connected that name in my mind with the girl he mentioned weeks ago – the girl he wanted to put in his band's video. Melanie was awfully bubbly for a girl dressed in gothic clothing.

She returned her romantic gaze to Brace.

"How's the band?" she asked, her eyes moving up and down his body. She reached out and touched his arm. "God, so good to see you!"

"Thanks." He put his hands in the deep pockets of his black coat, politely turning down her physical contact. "The band's good."

"And Doug? Is he still stalking his ex?"

"Always," Brace said with a slight grin. "Our CD's out – we just had a release party at Wax Trax."

"You got Spunk Gnosis to come to that show, I heard. He's legend."

I had no idea who she was talking about.

"Oh right, yeah." Brace smiled and nodded and held my hand.

"Go you!" Melanie cheered. "What else is going on?" Melanie was very short and when she replied to Brace she stood on her tiptoes like she wanted to jump into his mouth. She crossed her arms and her chest nearly popped out of her tight bodice.

"I have a cool loft in the city now." Brace was trying not to brag but it was cute to see how proud of himself he was.

"Oh good, Brace, I'm so proud of you. You're doing everything you always wanted to do. How's Ashley?"

"She's good," Brace just said.

"You two were so good together." I couldn't believe she said that right in front of me.

"Yeah, well that's over." Brace's tone was surprisingly short and cold just then. He put his arm around me and brought me closer to him and declared, "This is my girl now." There were times where I loved his domineering side and this was one. I practically melted against him.

"Well it's good seein' ya – you doing some shopping?" she inquired. She finally looked back at me.

"Yes. Shopping and dinner," Brace confirmed.

"Oh! Nice. We just got some cute Christmas lingerie – ho ho ho!" She laughed wildly at herself. "And new sex toys in the back." She switched over to her salesgirl lingo. "Let me know if you need any assistance."

Brace headed straight to the backroom in the same quick strut he did at the Salvation Army Store when he saw that bed. He always seemed to know exactly what he wanted.

"Come on, baby," he pulled me along. I stared up at a mannequin with nothing on except a strap-on. The purple dildo stuck straight out into the air and a disco ball spun above it, creating glowing checkers against the wall. Closer by Nine Inch Nails came on, making the back speakers sound like they might blow. The backroom was filled with whips, ball gags and handcuffs. There were even a few stun-guns with warnings on their boxes exclaiming USE CAREFULLY. "You should pick out some lingerie," Brace suggested as he looked around at everything. He sounded so excited – like me trying on lingerie might save the world. "It's on me – everything tonight is. I'm going to get some toys."

"You don't have to do that," I said. "I have eight-hun..."

"Keep it," he politely interrupted, taking my hands in his. "You need it until you find a job. Besides, I want to pay for everything tonight. I'm the guy. This is our special night." He went off to look at sex toys and I shyly ventured back out to where Melanie was lighting a new stick of incense and blowing bubble gum. I thought the gum's bubble might catch fire from the stick and wondered how that would look – purple bubblegum and fire, maybe like the sunset tonight.

I never wore lingerie. It was just something I never did. I also never had a guy who wanted me to. I had no idea what I was doing as I rummaged through the pasties and skimpy bras and panties. It must have been obvious too because Melanie came right over.

"Okay, you have to try this on," she picked out tulle lingerie with tattoo-style red French embroidery. I could barely hear her over the I wanna fuck you like an animal verse of Closer.

I looked at the lingerie. It was very sexy, but then I saw the price tag dangling from it.

"Its seven-hundred dollars," I gasped at the price. The fabric was gorgeous though – the beautiful color was somewhere between blue and purple. I wanted it.

"And worth every penny!" she automatically responded. "Besides, I know Brace well – I'll cut you guys a deal."

"Did you date?" The words just jumped out of my mouth. She looked a little caught off guard.

"Yeah," she finally admitted before leaning into me and whispering, "You are so lucky – when he finally starts to show his kinky side – look out!"

Boy. Everyone seemed to know about his kinky side.

"I know, he just bought this cage bed he found and we spent the whole day having sex in it yesterday. I'm exhausted – even shopping for stuff he wants to buy me seems daunting!" There. Now she could be jealous of me.

She stared at me blankly before a little forced laughter trickled off her lips.

"Well you should try this on," she said, handing me the expensive lingerie. "The fitting room is right there." She pointed to a thick velvet curtain that was too long and dragged along the floor. "Let me know if you have any questions!" she went back behind the counter and started organizing some hangers and tossing them into a box.

I walked over to the dressing room and pushed the curtain to the side. There was a cute vanity bench in the room and a framed poster of James Dean. His eyes were on me as I undressed and put the sexy lingerie on. It fit me well enough except it made my already round, fat bottom look even bigger. It was always the attention-seeker – my bottom – almost making the rest of my body seem nonexistent.

"I wanna see," Brace said, waiting outside the dressing room. I poked my head out to look at him without allowing him to see me completely. He had a glossy Pink Agency shopping bag in his hand.

"Show me the toys you bought first," I played. He sported a mischievous grin.

"No." He was determined to get his way tonight. "Show me, doll face," he just said. I didn't feel as inhibited as I did when we first walked in. I just wasn't used to this type of thing. I shyly stepped through the curtains and his eyes shamelessly fell to my breasts and then my bottom and he ran his hand over his mouth and shock.

"Oh my god, you have to get that, god, you're sexy. I wanna do a trillion nasty things to you right here right now." He came over to me like he really was going to do it right there in The Pink Agency.

"This...is seven-hundred dollars," I told him, his smell and warmth consuming me. "That's like almost a year's worth of rent where I used to live."

"Tonight is not about where you used to live." Sometimes Brace said things that were so poetic but I don't think he realized it. He should keep writing songs. "Don't worry about money tonight," Brace said. "Please – please don't worry. I want to buy you something nice – you deserve it." He leaned forward and kissed me. I could feel his excitement stirring in his tight leather pants. I knew this gift was just as much a gift for him as it was for me. But it was nice. His warm firm hands groped my bottom.

"Goddamn," he sighed. "When I get you home...get this, please, baby. I'll follow you around on my knees all over Evanston begging you if you don't get it right now."

"Okay, boy, calm down," I chuckled, touching him there and making it worse. He sighed against me. I turned and looked at my behind in the mirror. "My butt looks crazy in this."

"You have to get it, trust me," Brace said. He turned and looked at Melanie as she casually approached the fitting room area, chewing that gum of hers.

"Looks good," she winked before walking back out to the sales floor.

"See?" Brace shrugged with one shoulder and that amused smile of his just wouldn't go away. I turned and kissed him and I knew if we didn't stop, we'd end up having sex right there. I put my hand on his chest and gently pushed him off and went back into the fitting room to change.

37

By now I was starving, those pancakes had long worn off. I wanted good food and beer – my nightlife appetite had kicked in. I liked being in a place I knew nothing about, with secret sex toys in the big glossy Pink Agency bag. I couldn't stop looking at it as Brace carried it along; wanting to know what was inside. I tried to make out the shape of the merchandise but the dark streets of Evanston wouldn't allow it. How far did Brace want to take this? How dark was his sexual appetite? Did he buy one of those stun guns? This night was going places.

We did a lot of shopping, checked out some more antique stores. Brace grew quiet again. His mysterious silence reminded me of nights back south, when the sky would swell with dark clouds right before a thunderstorm exploded.

"You seem very familiar with Evanston," I finally spoke. "You come here a lot?"

He took my hand and pulled me down a street without saying anything. We were on our way to Champions, a bar and burger joint, and I could see its vertical neon marquee ahead but he pulled me in a different direction now. I was starving and almost fought to turn around but he seemed very adamant about going this way. The street he pulled me towards was more like a long driveway with a tall, black fence at the end. Huge trees on either side shadowed the walk. There were a few park benches along the way and some rosebushes. The night air smelled like honeysuckle and food from Champions.

"I want to show you something," he shared. "Last night you told me something very personal about you – something difficult to say. Now...it's my turn."

The current sounds of Evanston, like Elvis Presley playing from Champions and the occasional traffic on the only busy street anywhere around, faded as we walked on and neared the gate. I noticed a sign on the gate that read Chittling Orphanage. We stood there for what felt like a very long time in silence. Brace peered through the gate at the big brick house behind it. It looked abandoned. He slowly reached up and touched the gate the same way he touched that cage bed.

"Brace?" I whispered his name and took his hand.

"I grew up here," he said. My heart dropped into my stomach.

"You were an orphan?" I was so surprised. Brace may have had his issues but he seemed well-adjusted to me. He was so chivalrous and patient. I would have never guessed this.

"Yeah," he admitted. I could hear the suppressed emotion in his voice. "When I was nine my parents told me we were going on a trip and that I should pack my bags...and I thought, oh that's why they've been having those...late night conversations about for the last two weeks. That's why they sent me to my room while they talked – they wanted the trip to be a surprise." This heartbreaking smile came over his face as he tried not to cry. "So I packed my bag and got in the car and...I'll never forget that morning – the temperature, the way the air smelled. I mean everything. It was summer..." He slowly revealed his story as he stared at the house. "They brought me here. I said to my mom, what is this? I thought it was a hotel or..." he shrugged. "Then I saw the sign. I tried to run but she grabbed my wrist and said...now Brace, this is the only way. We're broke. This is..." he paused but managed to keep his eyes dry and warm. "And she goes...this is your new home. Mrs. Rately will take care of you now." The shaking in his voice ceased but his tone darkened. "Mrs. Rately was this...middle-aged woman that ran the home. It's not open now," he curled his fingers around the gate and looked down at me and I could hear relief wash over him. "It's closed like that asylum. But these places have ghosts." He looked back through the gate before loosening his fingers from the gate. He wearily pointed at one of the benches over by the rosebushes. I went over and sat down with him. I put my hand on his leg. Now I knew the source of his pain and he knew mine. "I don't like to be left alone," he let me know, shaking his head. "I know it's dumb but I always feel this...horrible dread inside. Like that morning when everything changed. I was nine and totally on my own. No one's coming back for me...kind of thing. I kept wondering what I did wrong after they left me here. I replayed every day for as far back as I could remember. I blamed myself. I'm grown now, I'm not a little boy, but still...I have bad reactions to it...being left alone." He hit me with those eyes of his. Now I knew why he was so upset with me for just disappearing for three weeks. I knew why he wanted to keep me in that cage bed. "I can keep you safe. If I can keep you."

I didn't want another minute to occur without me kissing him. I practically jumped up into his lap when I kissed him. "You can keep me, my sweet boy," I told him. I ran my hand along the back of his warm neck and kissed him on the cheek like he always did with me.

"It wasn't all bad," he wanted me to know. "Growing up...here. Accepting it was hard...you know? But...Saturdays were good – I wanted to take you to the places I went to when I was sixteen..." he pointed to Champions. "Champions is one. Me and my friend Riley would go there....run from Chittling and go to Champions."

"Riley?"

"Riley was the one boy I liked here," he said, nodding at the eerie old orphanage. I wanted to ask him where Riley was now, but I had a feeling it was too big a question. "We'd go to that baseball park," he pointed back to where we had been walking. "Me and Riley."

"What happened to Riley?" I just asked, stroking his hand.

Brace stared at the ground for a few seconds. "He got adopted." I could hear the mixed emotion in Brace's voice. He was happy Riley got a family, but also sad. "I never saw him again."

"Did he give you his number or anything..."

"It didn't work like that. I guess, according to Mrs. Rately, the couple that wanted Riley came back for him one morning on their way to California. They were in a hurry and just...swiped him up – like fucking picking out a puppy." He calmed down after a minute. "I didn't get the chance to say goodbye."

"Did you ever get adopted?"

"No. By the time I turned sixteen I gave up – no one wants the hassle of adopting a sixteen year-old boy. I turned eighteen and I was out. I was happy just to get out – just to be on my own at that point because after Riley, more boys would come but I just ended up getting into fights. I guess I was just mad they weren't him. I was mad I was still here. Once I started asking myself why I was mad, the answers wouldn't stop. One day...I decided to stop asking and tried to stay calm and focus on...I don't know...music. The day I first played the drums was the best day of my life at that point. Beating the shit out of those drums. That was all that mattered – but then someone told me I was really good at it and I was like, shit? Really? Riley was the only one I bonded with like ever. I know this sounds weird, but..." he glanced at me and then back at the ground. "He, like, took the place of my mother and dad...Riley was like...an old soul. I knew somehow when he was brought to the house to room with me – and had that same look of shock in his eyes as I did when I was dropped off – that we'd be friends. I mean damn, I was here first but he helped me adjust. We just...took to each other...like a kite takes to the wind." He smiled for a minute with tears in his eyes as he looked up at the night sky. "God, that's cheesy."

"No it's not," I responded right away. I put my hand on his shoulder.

"And then..." His hands moved around in his pockets like the words he wanted to say were inside them. Then they jumped so his coat rose from his lap a little. "The day..." he looked down at me, "I saw you at Paper Cut I got the same feeling I got the day I saw Riley for the first time – that everything was going to be good – like hey, there's a cool person. I mean yeah..." his mouth curled up into a sly smile and he looked right at me. "I thought you were cute and stuff, but I just wanted to get to know you. You gave me a good feeling inside. I think it's important that we tell each other stuff, Joey. It's hard, I know, we've both been through crazy things – but I feel so much closer to you right now than a few weeks ago, don't you?"

"Yes. Thank you for telling me this."

"I kept stuff from Ashley and it was wrong. She didn't understand me...maybe if I'd told her about my past she would have. Not that I – fuck – I'm sorry, I hate that I'm bringing her up. This was supposed to be our night."

"It is. Brace..."

He took my hand and kissed it. "Let's go get something to eat."

38

Champions turned out to be a sports bar, which surprised me. Brace was not a sports fan and neither was I, but he said he loved the place so here we were – him in his leather pants and me with my pink hair and our big, glossy Pink Agency bags by our sides. We looked like deranged S&M spies. The cool thing was no one seemed to care. They were invested in the game on the TV. It was a cool laid back neighborhood bar.

"Let's go upstairs," Brace said, knowing the place well. I followed him up the wide, wooden staircase to a much quieter, small room. There was a huge pink and purple Wurlitzer jukebox upstairs as well as a pool table. I headed right for the jukebox. I couldn't wait to check out the selection and fill it with money...and I had so...much...money.

"Wait," Brace approached me from behind, using his soft bedroom voice. He put his hand around my wrist and politely pulled me to the pool table.

"I want to play pool," I said – because I was a pro after all.  
"But I really wanna fill up the jukebox first."

"I don't wanna play yet," he said. "But I want you to see something."

"What?" I walked over to the pool table. The balls were already set up. Everything was ready. But something about the balls looked funny – their shape. As I got closer to the table, I saw they weren't pool balls. They were egg shakers! He'd arranged them in a triangle on the table.

"Brace!" I hugged him and started picking them up and shaking them. "Are all of these mine?"

"Yes..." he touched my chin with his index finger and thumb. "Every single one. This room is ours too." He looked around. "For the night, baby. I know the staff."

"You fucking rented the room out?" I was amazed.

He gave a cool shrug. "Yeah."

"Brace." I kissed him. I was practically in tears – happy tears. This was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for me. We only stopped kissing when the waitress came upstairs.

"You guys okay?" she asked. She was not intrusive, just very sweet. I scooped up an egg shaker, feeling whole again.

"Yeah, Laura." Brace took my hand and pulled me over to the booth by the big window that looked out at the baseball park. "You want a drink, darlin?" Brace asked me.

"Yeah, Wolf's Tooth?" I requested. Laura nodded.

"I'll have one too," Brace said.

"Absolutely." Laura went back downstairs. Brace gazed out of the window. The light was on in what used to be a dark room. Everything was different now.

"I spent a lot of my time here when I was an orphan," he told me. "On Saturdays...if we were good...if we kept our room clean, Mrs. Rately would let us out for a little bit. Riley and I...would run all over the place and pretend we never had to go back." Brace's smile was gorgeous when he talked about Riley. His eyes lit up a golden brown. "Anyway, we'll eat, play some pool, a good night..." his voice trailed off a bit.

"Play footsie," I grinned. I felt his foot against my leg. I looked at the pretty pink egg shaker I'd taken from the group on the pool table.

My wondering eye hit the Pink Agency bag. I really wanted to know what toys he got. I almost bugged him about it again when Laura came over with our beers.

"Guys need a little more time with the menus?" she asked.

"Yeah, is that cool?" Brace looked at her and she smiled.

"Of course." She went off and Brace sipped his beer and sat back as he looked around the room.

"So you and Riley came here?" I asked.

"Yeah." His smile was faint, like a faded memory. I felt like Brace might fade with it. "Riley was a rockin' dude," he grinned. "He had a mullet."

"Really?" I laughed.

"Yeah, he was cute – had a very..." Brace moved his hand in front of his face, "Nice face – very...elegant. Almost too pretty for a boy. The mullet – not even that ugly fucking haircut could take away from his beauty. He always wore this leather jacket and had..." Brace moved his hand to point to the back of his neck. "This scar on the back of his neck, I think that...maybe that was why he grew his hair long in the back. He wouldn't talk about his real parents. He just said it didn't matter now."

You were in love with him, weren't you?

I could feel a draft beating its way through the big bare window when the wind howled.

I picked my beer glass up by the handle and made a toast. "To Riley," I said.

"To Riley." Brace held his glass up and our glasses made a soft clank.

"He wanted to start a band," Brace revealed.

"Riley?"

"Yeah – a punk band." Brace laughed for a minute and explained, "He wore these jeans and on the back, like, on one pocket he wrote fuck and on the other he wrote you. Mrs. Rately hated those jeans. Anyway, we planned on starting this band called Generator, but then, you know, he got swiped. I'd sneak in here after Riley was gone and sometimes the bartender would hook me up. The one good thing about being an orphan was getting sympathy like that – free beer at sixteen. All the girls wanted to take me home like I was a stray puppy."

They still do, I thought.

"That's cool. Do you have any pictures of you from that time?"

He stared at the jukebox and shook his head. "No. Orphans...don't take pictures of things, each other...we just wanted to forget mostly. I wish I had a picture of Ri though. I'd love to show you..." Every time he mentioned Riley a smile took over his amazing face.

Laura returned. This place had American food –hot dogs, hamburgers, fries, shakes. I ordered two hot dogs with the works and chili cheese fries.

"Sometimes...on Saturdays, Mrs. Rately would take us to antique stores. It was our reward if we were good for a month."

"Good like how?"

"Not getting into fights..." Brace said. "Not being disobedient. Cleaning – that was a big

part of it. She'd make us sweep...the whole fucking place. She'd make us stand in a line and...hold our hands out after so she could see if we had splinters in our palms from the damn broomstick. That's how she knew if we did what we supposed to. Anyway, one time I found this cool little radio at the antique store and Riley and I would play it late at night and pretend we were the rock band on the radio – like on tour and stuff. We'd like...map out the places we'd go...the towns. We were free as shit, dude, no one could tell us what to do. Fuck sweeping floors! Fuck you, Mrs. Rately, we're rock stars." He got quiet for a minute. Then he said, "It was our dream and then...he got adopted."

"But look at you now – you're a great drummer." He was still smiling, but his eyes were wishful. He wanted Riley back.

"I don't talk about Riley to a lot of people – you and Ashley know about him but that's it."

I felt like maybe talking about Brandon. I was never an orphan, but when I met Brandon I felt very alone in the world.

"He seems very special to you – you should talk about him." Was I telling Brace that or was I telling myself? Both, I supposed. Brace sank down in his chair and tossed his hand. "He's gone now, there's no point." This was the true source of Brace's issues. He really liked Riley. First, he suffered the blow of being abandoned as a little boy and then he lost his best friend later on.

He was staring out of the window, trying to fight the tears from escaping his eyes.

"There was this boy...Brandon...I knew in the fourth grade," I decided to share.

Brace's eyes widened and he looked at me in a way he never had before. "Fourth grade? You had a boyfriend in fourth grade?"

"Yeah..." I smiled sheepishly.

"I don't know why I'm surprised," he smirked. "Little heartbreaker." Brace managed to smile through his pain, swaying his knees from side to side under the table. Brace was so tall that any space he spent time in seemed too confined.

"He went away too...Brandon," I finally spoke.

"Where?"

"He was pulled out of school...homeschooled. His brother kept getting into trouble and his parents wanted to make sure Brandon turned out okay." But that wasn't really why. You know that wasn't why. "My heart was broke for a long time."

"So ten years old, right? Fourth grade?" Brace said.

"Yup," I said, sipping my beer. My eyes went back to The Pink Agency bag as I slowly traveled back to this day and time from 1986.

"How old were you when you met Riley?" I asked, trying to look away from the bag.

"Fifteen. I knew him for one year..."

"Sometimes that's all it takes...to fall in love."

I thought Brace would get defensive and say, "I wasn't in love," but he didn't. Instead he just looked at me with new tears in his eyes. Tears fell down his cheeks and stopped on his lips. I touched his chin and paused right before kissing him.

"You're a sweet boy," I whispered. "You're such a sweet boy." I kissed him so his tears went into my mouth. We kissed for a long time. Sometimes heavy and sometimes soft, but always long. I could have died right there kissing him against the big cold window and been just fine.

"Wanna dance?" he asked, our foreheads touching.

"Yes, sweet boy."

We got up just as our songs came on the jukebox and cheered us up like Set Adrift on Memory Bliss. Brace was a good dancer – a slow dancer – which didn't surprise me.

"Happy birthday – I'm sorry I missed it," I said.

"That's okay, I have you now," he rejoiced. And he we held hands and slow-danced in Champions.

39

"I have to tell you something else," Brace said when we were halfway through our food. This sounded serious, more serious than anything he'd said so far tonight. Without hesitating or making me wait another minute, he just said, "I'm going on tour."

"That's great! Brace!" I didn't understand why he looked so unhappy. "I'm so proud of..."

"Tomorrow." My enthusiasm disappeared. I didn't want him leaving so soon. I had grown so attached to him, especially after we just opened up to each other on such an intense level. I liked being at his loft, being around him. I was even starting to like being around Ashley.

"Tomorrow?"

"I know it's like..." he paused to chew his food. I no longer had an appetite and left my food alone to get cold. The thought of him leaving was agonizing.

"After everything tonight – talking like this – and tomorrow you're leaving." I felt so betrayed.

"Well I've known for three weeks, but you weren't around." Bitterness flooded his voice for a minute but then he calmed down. "It's just for two weeks, we're going to California. I can't pass this up, Joey. L.A.? That's where Guns N Roses got their start. But when we get back," he took my hand and squeezed it. "We can spend every moment together – New Years Eve – we'll go out, rent a limo again, live it up." I didn't care about a limo. I just wanted him. We could fuck in a beat up Chrysler. I just wanted him.

I didn't say anything. I just stared at the food I was starving for two minutes ago. I pushed my plate away.

"We just put a CD out," he said, in a much softer voice. "We have to go on tour."

"But why now?" I pouted like a little girl.

"So I can be back for Christmas, we can spend Christmas together. Ashley wants to get a huge live tree this year – we have enough space for it, you know, where the windows are?"

He got quiet when I didn't respond. I just didn't want him to go right now.

"We got a gig at The Roxy," he went on when I stayed quiet then he said it again as if I didn't hear. "The Roxy."

"It just seems so sudden – like tomorrow." I looked out of the window, wanting to be more grownup than this. I wanted to love him. I wanted to push through my pain and his pain and love him. God knew he deserved it.

"I know – look, don't think you can't stay at my place. You can. Or you could go home and visit your family."

"I could go with you," I thought. I didn't mean to say it out loud. Well, maybe I did.

"We have this rule...in the band," he reluctantly spoke. "We never take girlfriends with us."

"Why?"

"It's not – Doug came up with it. Doug can be really intense anyway – you don't want to spend two weeks with him, trust me. He's dirt and diamonds; you never know what he might throw in your face."

I just sat there. I thought about going home.

"I haven't talked to my parents in a year," I grumbled.

"Why?" he asked. When I didn't say anything he sat up and reached across the table for my hand. He found his patience and went back to being the polite boy I knew he really was. "Hey, talk to me. Is there anything else you want to talk about?"

I couldn't tell him about Brandon. I couldn't. That was something I would never share.

"I'm going to miss you," I just said.

I saw the back of his head, that brown hair, as the sun fought the dirty window to shine in it the day Brandon stopped sitting next to me on the bus.

Brace tossed the French fry he was about to eat down on his plate.

"Wanna play pool?" he asked. "Mercilessly kick my ass? Would that make you feel better?" He gave me such a puppy dog look right then. Dating musicians was so cool but equally painful. Just up and leave me. Go meet girls that would fall in love with them. Maybe he would get a record deal and party every day and night in L.A. and end up on MTV like Axl Rose and I'd never hear from him again. Two weeks could turn into a lifetime of rock n roll stardom. Doug had it in him to make it too. Who knew what would happen in L.A.?

"Hey, Joey?" he searched for me as my thoughts got the best of me. I did have a lot of money – I could go home if I wanted to. I couldn't imagine what my parents would say when I finally called them.

"Come on," Brace was standing up, nodding at the pool table. "Let's enjoy this last night together."

I trudged over to the pool table. Brace helped me collect all the egg shakers from the pool table and I put them in my shopping bag on top of my lingerie. Every once in a while my eyes would take Brace's tall, gorgeous body in and I would forget why I was mad at him.

"Promise me something," I said before we started the game.

"What?" he looked up at me as he started chalking his cue stick.

"You won't...meet some girl on the road and fall in love with her."

"That's so not what this is about," he let me know, very direct. "Besides, I'm the drummer – no one gives a shit about the drummer...I'm the guy whose face gets half cut off on the magazine covers." He smiled but I didn't. "Come on, it's a tour, to get some exposure. That's it. Two weeks. I'll be back before my smell vanishes from every room I've been in." I laughed a little. So he did know. Then he got serious. "I didn't become a musician to just have sex with whoever – that's not the kind of guy I am. Music saved my life." He looked me straight in the eye. "Do you get that?"

"Yes," I promised.

"After Riley it was all I had," he said. I could see when he finally started to relax and not be so tense about his past. He put his cue stick down on the table and came over to me. He pulled me close to him and I put my face against his neck as he whispered in my ear.

"I love you, Joey." He kissed me on my head. "I want to protect you. I want to hold you. I want to warm your nose against my neck when it's cold. I want to see you every day and know you're good."

I almost started to cry. "I love you too – so much."

"We just had our first fight," he acknowledged, somewhat amused. "I think we're officially in a relationship."

"Oh boy," I said as we laced our fingers together and lazily danced to Red Red Meat's Words.

I looked up at him and just kissed him. I wanted him on the pool table. We had this room to ourselves – we could probably even have sex up here. "Take a toy out of that bag." I got all hot and feisty. "Get on the table," I said, suddenly very turned on. This was my last night to enjoy him for two weeks so I didn't want to waste time. He moved so he was halfway sitting on the table, but his boots were still on the floor.

"On it, all the way on it," I said.

"Listen here, missy," he said, playing around. We both laughed.

"Let's spend the night here," I said. "I don't wanna waste all that time on the stupid train."

He laughed into my mouth as I kissed him. My bratty demands must have been amusing.

"Did you buy more handcuffs? What did you buy? A stun gun?" I asked in a breathless, lusty sigh.

"I bought a lot of things." He got on the table a little more.

"Tell me, boy," I begged, climbing on top of him. I pressed down on his junk and pinned his wrists down to the pool table.

"Oh my god...okay..." he sighed and shut his eyes as I started touching him.

"I hate how you don't answer me sometimes," I said. I put my hand around his throat. His skin was so warm. I wanted to taste him. "I wanna handcuff you."

"We should go back soon," he said, trying to gain control of the situation.

"Why? Because you have to get up early and fly to L.A.?" I was still mad – I couldn't help it.

"Well yeah..." he said, plain and simple and not about to argue. "But I also..."

"What?" I had the horrible feeling it had something to do with Ashley.

"I promised Ashley I wouldn't stay out that late – she's been having those nightmares and our roommates are still out of town..."

I dropped my hands from him and went over to my bag.

"Please don't be mad," he begged. "I know this is a lot for you to accept – she is moving out."

"When? When you two get married and buy a house? This is our last night together before you go on tour and you're worried about her. You still have feelings for her."

"No, I don't," he marched over to me. I could tell that our fights would be hot and dangerous just like our sex. "Not those feelings – god, no, I care about her though. That's just how it is. Joey, please." I just headed downstairs, almost running right into Laura as she came to check on us.

40

The loft was cold and quiet as usual. There were never any dirty dishes because Brace never left any in the sink. He always took the trash out when he left even if it was only half full. The house always smelled like whatever we had for breakfast that morning, along with the faint smell of chocolate from the factory.

Ashley came up the hallway from her room, her dreadlocks in a bun. She was wearing cutesy pajamas and no shoes.

"Hey guys, have fun?" she asked.

"We cut it short to come home for you." I tried not to sound bitter. "And Brace has an early flight."

"I know..." she stopped talking to yawn. "L.A." She sounded happy for him. She reached out and hugged his shoulder with her hand. I wanted to be happy for him too but I just couldn't be. I was mad – mad at myself for that too.

"How was your night?" he asked. I went off to his room. I hoped he'd follow, and we could enjoy these last few hours together.

"Okay." I could hear them whispering. She thanked him for coming home and he said no problem. I roamed his bedroom, looking down at my duffel bag when Brace walked into the room with his Pink Agency bag.

He sat down on his bed next to me. In front of us was the cage bed.

"I'm sorry." He put his hand on my knee and turned to kiss my cheek. "She's just...these nightmares."

"Is that why she still lives here? She feels safe with you? All this stuff...the scythes, even the cage bed – you could put someone in it if they tried to hurt her."

"I care about you more than her," he tried to convince me. Then he tried to kiss me on the mouth but I wasn't in the mood.

"Come on baby," he tried to persuade me. His hand moved up my leg, his fingers between my thighs until he was touching my pussy. "Come on. Put that sexy little thing on for me, please." He put his hand on my face so I was looking at him. "I wanna fuck you so hard you feel it the whole time I'm gone."

Oh my god.

His mouth pressed against my neck and – no matter how my heart or head felt – my body was turned on by him instantly and wanted him desperately. It was just like Ashley talked about – a spell.

I took my lingerie to the bathroom and quickly changed because Brace and I only had five precious hours together before he had to rush off to the airport. I looked into the cold grey light of the loft's space around the kitchen for Ashley on my way back to his room. It seemed like she'd gone to bed. The dim light of the kitchen's stove was just bright enough to show off the scythes along the wall and grey shadows splashed over everything else. The place was eerie this time of night.

It was really cold, especially in this lingerie. For whatever reason, Brace's room seemed the warmest. I was convinced it was him – his warm skin, his hot-blooded sexual appetite, his chocolate-brown eyes. He oozed warmth and mystery. He pulled me into his room the minute I opened the door, meeting my mouth with an impatient kiss. I wanted to play-fight.

"Oh," I sighed when he pushed his hard sex against me. I wanted to play rough (partly because I was still mad at him) so I pushed him away when he became a selfish boy, touching all my special parts.

"I should put you in that cage," I pointed to the ugly, creepy cage bed. "Lock you in so you can't leave tomorrow."

He landed on the bed when I pushed him, and stayed there. A dominant glow reigned in his eyes.

"Come and get me then if you're mad."

The tension in the room was twisted. I stayed against the door and just stared at him.

Come here, boy.

He got up and came over to me. He put his hands on my wrists so they were pinned against the door. He pressed his excited sex against my thigh and kissed my neck.

"What did you get at the sex store?" I sighed. "Tell me, please."

"Shh." He licked my neck and bit my ear. "Face the door." I turned around and he pressed me against the door and groped my bottom. "God you're so hot. I love this thing." He couldn't be happier with the lingerie. I felt his warm fingers trace my bottom's soft curves, digging their way under the lingerie to touch me.

"Oh God...Brace..." in one lusty sigh, my anger for him left.

He pressed up against me. I was no longer cold, not with him against me, not with being all worked up like this. Then I felt the cold metal of the handcuffs as he wrapped one around my wrist.

"I'm the new guard – I heard you got out of your cage tonight? Not good." His tone was different as he stepped into his role-play fantasy. A series of clicks occurred as the handcuff imprisoned my wrist.

"Oh god..." I rested my head against the door, feeling his fingers around my free wrist.

"I'm sorry – please – it was just for a minute – it gets so tight in there," I played too, taking on the tone of apologetic, nervous patient.

He leaned into me, his mouth against my ear. "I bet it does. You might have got away with things with your last guard, but it won't happen with me." He brushed his hand against the side of my face. "When I'm done with you, you'll be too tired to even move anyway."

"Brace."

"That's not my name," he announced. He pulled me towards the cage bed. The door made a loud cry when he opened it.

"In," he ordered. I stared down at those sturdy rustic boots. I bent over and succumbed to the small confines of the cage, getting in with only my skimpy lingerie on. He left the door open and stood over the cage.

"I'm cold," I complained. It was very cold in here, colder than usual.

"Put the empty cuff up here," he ordered, ignoring my complaint and pointing to the top of the cage. Brace took role-play very serious. I looked up at him and placed the cuff in his fingers, my other hand awkwardly above my head. Once he fastened the cuff around the netting and my wrist, I had no choice but to stay where it was.

"Oh Brace..." I sighed as his hand started exploring me.

"I told you that's not my name."

"What is your name?"

He was very quiet. Maybe he hadn't thought one up yet.

"Spunk Gnosis."

Who the heck was that? I recalled Melanie bringing him up.

The feel of his curious finger slipping inside of me snatched my thoughts away.

"Ah!" I cried out. My body had been aching for him so much.

"God, you're so wet...I'm aching to fuck you," he whispered. I looked up at him. He had things in his hand, things he bought at The Pink Agency but I couldn't see what they were.

I stared down at his cock; it was full and proud as it stood straight up against his stomach. My arms were starting to ache as they hung from the cage's netting. The rest of my curvy body was helpless to him in this little cage.

"Put your feet up," he pointed to the netting surrounding the door.

This was a very uncompromising position. It hurt. My feet were now up above my head as well as my arms.

"This is painful," I gasped.

"Good – you're being punished." He reached in and pushed the cotton strip of the lingerie to the side again so it was no longer protecting my softest, most vulnerable parts and slowly moved the feather tickler up and down my pussy.

"Ahhhaaa..."

"Keep your feet against the netting," he reminded. He absolutely didn't want me moving.

"Brace."

"Spunk," he warned.

He kept moving the feather tickler along my sex and then he moved along my feet.

"Move and get fucked," he said, when my body started jiggling from the crazy tickling sensation. But I wanted to get fucked, hard. I was aching for friction – a lot more than the stupid feather tickler.

"Ha...aaahhhaha!" It was impossible to not laugh and twitch.

"Don't move, Joey." His love for me – Brace's love for me – bled through the fake tone of voice he was using as Spunk Gnosis.

"It tickles...it tickles!" My cackle turned into a deafening shrill yet again.

"Should have gagged you," he said. Brace adored my laugh, Spunk did not. He got up, leaving the feather tickler on top of the cage for now. I could do nothing else but wonder what was in store for me now. He put his hand in the Pink Agency bag at last, pulling out the mysterious items. First he took out a ball gag that looked too big for my mouth. He came back over and told me to open my mouth.

"Wider," he instructed, because the ball was too big to go in. I opened it as wide as I could and he pushed the rubber ball in and fastened the little buckle in the back of my head.

He went back to the bag and took out something that looked like a drill but it had an enormous dildo at the end of it instead. It had the handle of a gun and when Brace pulled the trigger, it made a vibrating sound and the dildo spun around.

"Put your feet back up here," he said, dragging his fingers across the netting at the top of the cage. I did as he said so my body was in an awkward position as he reached in between my legs and pulled my lingerie to the side. The rusty cage pinched my little toes. I shut my eyes and listened to the sound of that crazy dildo drill and felt it vibrate against my thigh.

41

I woke up the next morning sore and tired. Brace had undone the handcuffs from the cage and now my hands were cuffed behind my back. I looked around the room for Brace but he wasn't in it. I was cold and sore and desperately had to pee. I moved around. All I wanted were these handcuffs off of me and the ball gag out of my mouth.

I rolled over on my back and tried to open the cage door with my feet but it was locked. Where was Brace? He had to still be here. He wouldn't leave for California without saying goodbye. Would he leave me in this cage while he was in L.A.? No. No way would he do that...right? Maybe he just went to the bathroom. I tried to be patient, but my arms were sore and I was terribly uncomfortable in general. I couldn't stand being in this tight space much longer.

As I waited, I thought about last night. I remembered Brace fucking me through the cage with that dildo. It felt surprisingly good but not as good as he did. He also fucked me, thrusting his cock into me and keeping his promise that I would still feel him long after he set foot in balmy-palmy California. I was so sore and tired and it would be nice to sleep in his bed, on his ocean-blue sheets, on his futon, on his pillow. On him.

I wanted one more embrace before he left. I missed having sex with him – touching him and holding him while he was inside of me. Right now though, I missed things like being able to talk and walk. And pee. I got restless and sick of this and hit the cage with my feet but the door was too sturdy. This bed, after all, was made to keep a crazy person from getting out of it. I hated these thoughts. I hated looking at the dent in the corner and wondering who caused it. Panic set in. What if he really had left already? What if Brace was just a journey down a dark staircase and into a room I probably didn't want to be in?

"MMPH!" I screamed as best I could with the stupid ball gag in my mouth. The quiet loft gave back no response. Ashley knew where the key was – she could let me out if Brace really did leave already. I would not be able to go much longer without peeing. I'd just have to go in the cage. I wondered if that was what the patient that spent time in here before had to do. I turned around and looked at the door when I finally heard footsteps. I tried best I could to express the fact that I had to pee but the words I needed to say were just muffled sounds.

"Mmmph, mmph! mmMPH!"

I watched as the doorknob slowly turned and the door opened just a crack, not revealing who was behind it. It had to be Brace though. Or Ashley – someone that would let me out of this thing. The door opened completely but no one was there. The vampire, I thought. It seemed ridiculous but in that moment, fear had me thinking crazy things. Who was there? I couldn't see out into the shadowy hallway. I lied there, feeling utterly helpless as Daniel walked in. I never wanted to see that face again, those serpentine eyes, but there he was. His head was still shaved bald and he still had that Tiger mask but it hung around his neck.

"Hey Joey," he spoke all friendly, like we were meeting for coffee. Brace! Had he hurt Brace? I tried to move around and slam my body against the cage.

"MMMPH!" I made as much noise as I could, kicking against the cage as he slowly walked over. My pleading drew a weird laugh from him. He was wearing the same dirty jeans and converse sneakers as the day we met. He walked on over, taking big slow steps like a toddler just learning to walk.

"That's great floor out there for skating," he said, all friendly talk. He kneeled down and peered at me through the netting. "Of course, with all the blood on the floor now it's kind of slippery."

Oh my god, he hurt Brace. I just started crying.  
Daniel just looked at me with a squiggle of a smirk on his face. He put his hand down on the top of the cage and took a switchblade out from his back pocket. "I'm going to cut you, little flower, I'm going to cut you all day and night. You better behave too, or I'll let Brace bleed out until he's dead."

NO! He reached in, my hair was just long enough to grab hold of it and pull it so the top of my head hit the cage and I felt the blade of his knife cut my forehead.

"MMMPH!" Blood ran down into my eye as he put the blade against my face to cut it again. "Tell me where the key is," he demanded. "I want to cut you all over."

"MMPH!!! MMMMM, MMPH!!"

"Joey? Joey, Joey," another voice cut through as I struggled to get away, my hair being pulled out of my head as more blood pooled into my eye.

"Joey!" I woke up and saw Brace next to me. I nearly elbowed him in the face as I fought my way out of the horrific dream. I was in his bed. He was clearly next to me and Daniel wasn't but I still wasn't convinced it was all a dream. "He's here, he's here," I was still truly frightened. I looked around the room and touched my forehead to check for blood. I looked at my fingers, which were clean. This still did nothing to calm me down. I was shaking terribly.

"Baby, it's okay..." Brace tried to comfort me. I studied him too. He was perfectly fine. He was dressed and smelled like that peppermint aftershave he used. He also had his bags packed and by the door, all set for California.

"No, Daniel's here – he has a knife!" I sat up in bed and looked around. The room was missing a few of Brace's things because he'd packed them. Everything seemed to be falling apart.

"He's not here, he's not here, it's okay." Brace tried to hold me and comfort me but I couldn't shake this feeling.

"Go look, please. Check...check the kitchen."

"I was just in the kitchen." Brace was trying to be patient. His tone was sympathetic as he tried to be convincing. "No one is here but you and me. I promise, baby." He held my face between his warm hands and kissed me on the forehead where I still felt I'd been cut.

"Are you sure?" I cried. "Please..."

"I'm sure baby," he wrapped his arms around me. "I'm sure. You had a bad dream and I'm sorry, but it's over now."

"Don't go," I begged. "You can't go – please don't go to California." I looked him dead in the eye, shaking my head. "Please. Let's get back in the cage," I pointed to the bed. "Just stay there. Stay there forever and no one can hurt us. Throw away the key. We can just stay..."

He looked at me with an understandably flash of concern in his eyes. "Joey, I have to go.

His voice was stern. "Okay?" He touched my face and I pressed my cheek into his palm. Stay.

"You stay with Ashley when she has nightmares," I reminded him. I knew I was being impossible. He strived to remained patient.

"I have been planning this tour for about a month. Doug would have my ass if I didn't go – besides I want to. This means a lot to me."

"Just stay with me a few more minutes." I burrowed against him, never wanting to be without him. "Please, please don't leave me."

"Joey," he said my name and touched my face. He didn't know what else to say or do in that moment. I took in his smell one last time and wrapped my arms around his warm neck. "Please, please don't go." I was going to beg one last time even though I knew it wasn't fair. I had this bad feeling the trip would change everything.

Brace sat there, practicing all the patience he had left. "It's two weeks. My roommates are coming back tonight. You can stay in my room – you're completely safe here."

"I don't want you to go." I was relentless.

"I have to." I could hear the urgency in his voice. He probably had to go in five minutes if he was going to make his flight. I honestly felt like I'd die if he left.

"He's going to come for me once you leave," I said, new tears building in my eyes.

"No," he kissed me on my head. But how did he know? He was going to freaking California and leaving me here. "The police know about him, remember? Stay here, stay with Ashley, she'll keep you safe."

Ashley, the girl afraid of her own nightmares. I felt the worst thing just then – Brace's arms unwrapping from me, falling from me altogether as he stood up and grabbed his suitcases.

"Baby, I have to go. Don't do this to me – I'm coming back." He watched me sit there and cry. "Look for a job, go to cafes and get back into writing – or start a band!" He got all excited. "You have a great voice. Hang out with Ashley. Okay? Don't be sad." He brushed my cheek with his fingers. "It's just two weeks. Ashley can take you to her favorite café and you can write poetry – you should get back into that." He set his suitcase down and picked up his nice cream colored shirt I was so fond of and brought it over to me. "Keep this, I know you like it."

"But it's your favorite shirt."

He just winked at me. "You're my favorite shirt."

Part 3

Channel Surfing Brandon

42

The smell of the grass was different here. The sky was bluer. Holden, North Carolina was the small town where I was from. I could not stay in that loft after Brace left. It was so lonely without him. When his roommates returned, it was a lot of new energy – male energy – and I couldn't get used to it. They looked at me like they constantly wanted to ask me what I was doing there. Ashley was usually working and I just felt alone. I called my mom two nights after Brace left. She broke down in tears and kept saying my name over and over.

"You're alive? Susie said you just moved out and she didn't know where you went." Susie was my cousin. She was overweight and never changed her underwear. I moved out because, after a while, the smell became too much. Plus she was always calling home to tell her mom to tell my mother that I was still working at the flower shop, that I was not trying to make any progress in my life.

I told my mom to calm down, that I was fine and I was overdue for a visit. I packed my bag that night with a strange emptiness inside of me. I wanted Brace but I was unsure about certain things. Plus, Daniel was not in Holden, North Carolina.

Holden was a Bible Belt town that never changed. It was mostly churches and fast food joints. A part of me was relieved to be back – to be far away from Daniel. Another part was very depressed because I promised myself I'd never come back here. There was nothing in Holden in particular that I was trying to ignore – there was just nothing here I missed.

As I waited at the airport for my parents to pick me up, I thought of Brandon. I was a very shy little girl and didn't have many friends. I rarely spoke to anyone my whole year as a fourth grader. But there was one person, a boy, who caught my eye. Brandon Guy. Even though we didn't go to the same school ever again, that one year we were inseparable. He would eventually be the boy I would tell all my other boyfriends about because things with Brandon never got that tumultuous. At the time, all we thought boys and girls did together was hold hands and gaze out of dirty windows. He never made me cry. I could still see his brown eyes and golden brown hair. I could still see his winning smile and silly patchwork baseball cap he always wore. I remembered clearly his stubborn nature. He never lost his temper around me but I could tell – maybe from his Taurus eyes, broad shoulders and perfect posture – that he wasn't one to cross. Even at ten years old, he always seemed like he was up for some kind of challenge. Maybe he would grow up to be a boxer or a firefighter. I had high, heroic hopes for my Brandon.

My fourth grade class went on a field trip once a month, always on a Friday. We always had to pick a field trip partner. Our field trip partner was who we sat with on the bus and stayed with during the trip.

"Brandon," I always requested when it was my turn to pick my partner. His name would shoot across the room as if I were announcing the winner of a contest, or telling the world of their new savior. Brannndonnnn. It got to the point where my peers would pick on me because of it, but I didn't care.

"Brandon and Joey sitting in a tree k-i-s-s-i-n-g," the kids would tease. Kissing was the first word I learned how to spell because of it.

I would get so excited about field trips too. I roamed my house the night before, placing my clothes out for the next day. I could already feel Brandon's hand holding mine on the school bus. I made sure to have my permission slip for the trip signed and in the front pocket of my backpack.

The trip was to Stewartsville, a small churchy town one-town over from Holden. The name of that little eerie town that seemed to hold no bright colors – just a dreary white sky and twisty black trees – would always haunt me. I never wanted to hear that name again. It was right up there with the name Daniel.

While Holden was all power lines, two-story houses, white picket fences, cable antennas on the roof, public pools and fast food chains, Stewartsville was more woodsy with a lot of farmland and cemeteries. It felt lonesome.

I had no idea what to expect the morning we boarded the school bus for that ominous town, but as we drew closer a bad feeling overtook me. I didn't want to go. I knew this was one field trip I was not going to enjoy and Brandon seemed to sense my fear.

"It's okay, Joey," he told me, but I could hear the shakiness in his voice. Brandon always seemed fearless, until the day we embarked upon Stewartsville...

"Oh look Bill, it wasn't a dream," my mom's voice cut through Pearl Jam's Jeremy playing through the speakers as well as the collected voices of travelers coming and going in Charlotte Douglas International Airport. "Joey is really alive!" my mother rejoiced sarcastically.

Mom, or Sally J if you prefer, always had a sense of humor about her. She was short and plump with curly auburn hair. I got my blonde hair from my dad. Dad was trotting along behind her. He looked worn out.

Mom kept on. "She's really alive. She just didn't call us for an entire year's all."

"Mom, I said I was sorry..." Like countless times. Hundreds of times. I picked up my bags after enduring long hugs.

"Glad to see ya," My dad said, saving me the guilt trip. He turned to mom, who still looked somewhat upset with me. "She's safe and healthy – all that matters," Dad summed up.

Mom gave me another hug, pulling me in after draping her arm around me. My face was trapped against her saggy breasts and she smelled like lotion. She was wearing this Christmas sweater with sparkly little balls on it and they stuck to my shirt when I tried to pull away.

It wasn't even cold in Holden, especially for December. As we piled into dad's station wagon, I wondered where Brace was right now and what he was doing. It had almost been a week since he went to California. I missed him so much.

"Why don't we stop at Sea Treasures?" Mom suggested. Dad was busy driving down the busy highway. I was not ready for Holden. I was not ready for anything. When dad failed to respond, mom tried again.

"Bill? Sea Treasures?" Dad still didn't respond. Sea Treasures was a Red Lobster wannabe seafood restaurant, and had always been too expensive for us to eat at. Dad still tried to get out of it. Nothing had changed.

"Joey probably wants to go home first and unpack," he eventually said. I had no idea what I wanted to do at this point, but that sounded like the most sensible thing to do.

"Do they still make people wear crab and lobster outfits there?" I wondered.

"Yeah," Dad thought that was funny and kept laughing. I wasn't particularly close to my dad, but I was fond of his laugh. He never cared if anyone else was amused, he just laughed and laughed and in the moment, looked happy about everything on earth.

There was a boy in high school who worked Sea Treasures. He asked me out once and I gave him a reluctant yes. It went nowhere, just like his career at Sea Treasures. All the waiters had to wear huge silly costumes, usually either a big crab of lobster one. Assistant managers only had to wear the head of one, maybe a shark head or a dolphin, something sea-ish.

"Well, it was just a suggestion." Mom sounded a little upset.

"Let's go home and I'll get Chevy's." Chevy's was Dad's fast food of choice. How could I have forgotten that most of the talk in Holden was about food? It was why I was so addicted to bad food. Why I'd gained so much weight since the rape. It was how I dealt with it.

43

My parents sold their house and moved to a smaller apartment in a place called Barley Manor after I graduated from high school. It had a swimming pool and a little park at the end of the complexes, by the woods. Christmas was only two weeks away and big pretty Christmas wreaths were on almost every door of the apartment complex.

"Now your room's still the same," Mom informed as we got out of the car. I still couldn't believe I was here. Everything felt closer to the ground here – closer to the earth – than Chicago. Holden felt closer to Hell.

"Okay." I walked towards their apartment. My parents lived close to the end, near the pool. I spent a few months here until I moved to Chicago. At the time, I left because I wanted a change. I definitely got one.

"Now did you leave that horrid Axl Rose poster back in Chicago?" Mom asked, hopeful, as Dad put the key in the door. I gave a subtle nod. I would not talk about it – I would never talk about what happened.

Mom had put out her favorite Christmas decorations – two giant candles that glowed when you plugged them in. She had them for as far back as I could remember. They looked good in front of our old two-story house but they were too big and showy for this apartment and looked awkward next to the rosebushes.

"Here," Dad was thoughtful enough to make me a spare key. He handed it to me on our way in. I needed some time alone so I ventured up to my old room with my suitcase. I unzipped it and looked down at all the egg shakers, the lingerie, the mix tapes and other gifts Brace had given me. No one had spoiled me like Brace had. He loved me. I nearly cried when I took out the little toy motorcycle and mouse and put them on my dresser. My dresser had been my grandmother's and after that, my mother's. It spent many years in different bedrooms. The wood was chipping on the edges and the exposed lighter brown wood underneath was very soft. The mirror had lasted all these decades without a single crack. I looked at my reflection. My mom had actually kept herself from commenting on my hair. Maybe the pink was so faded it wasn't really noticeable. I had two tattoos now. One was of the date August 16th, the day after Daniel attacked me. I got through that day. I would get through the rest. The other was of a snow angel – it was completely white and on the back of my right leg. I got it because I loved winter; it would always remind me of Brace now. I would always think about what he said that day at the diner: Look at the darkest thing you see and then you'll see snow.

I pulled myself together, stopped myself from crying. I opened one of the dresser drawers. There was this toy in it from when I was a little girl. Everything from my childhood pointed to a memory of Brandon. I picked up the spirograph and smelled it. Did it smell like grass? I used to play with it in the backyard of our old house at dusk; right after dad mowed the lawn. Did it smell like the air of 1986? Did it smell like Brandon? Brandon didn't really have a smell though. He was always very clean and the clothes he wore were very neat and wrinkle-free. His mother kept the house nice and tidy, I bet. I never went over there, but in my head she never stopped cleaning – she spent her days organizing, vacuuming and doing laundry. Brandon was a bit of a mama's boy – she always made sure he had everything he needed for the day before he was dropped off at school. Was Brace's mother ever like that before she just abandoned him forever?

"What kinda toy is that?" Allison, the biggest brat in all of fourth grade, asked as I took my spirograph out of my backpack to play with on the bus. It would be a long ride to Stewartsville so I made sure to bring things to keep me entertained.

"It's a spirograph," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"A what?"

"A spi-ro-graph," Brandon said, looking over his shoulder at her and raising his voice a bit as he divided the word to accentuate the syllables. He didn't care for Allison either. He sat back after saying this and looked out of the window, moody. I stared down at my toy.

"What does it do?" Allison badgered. "Does it talk?"

"No, we have you for that," Brandon snapped while keeping his eyes on the window. I tried not to laugh.

"It is not your average toy," I explained a minute later. "It's a toy from the UK developed by a mathematician named Bruno."

Allison and her best pal Cindy laughed. "Bruno? Okay great, I'm so jealous," Allison rolled her eyes and twirled her blonde hair around her finger before finally leaving me alone for a while. Allison was the first person in my life that I truly despised. I would lie awake in my bed at night and picture a world without her snooty expressions and her snide remarks. My life would have been perfect without her. Were there more people like her in the world? The thought truly terrified me.

I looked over at Brandon. His hair was always so shiny. I wondered what kind of shampoo he used. It was parted so his bangs swept over his right eye and it was long enough to cover the tips of his ears. Brandon would be so handsome once he was older – the details of his face made that obvious. He already had a masculine jaw line and a hard dynamite stare that blew my heart to bits.

He turned and looked at me. His eyes matched his hair perfectly. It was so unreal.

"Did you remember your carsick pills?" he asked, always looking out for me.

"Yes, Brannndonnn," I batted my eyes at him. He never knew how to react. He grinned and looked back out of the window.

"Are you okay today?" I asked him. He seemed upset about something.

"My brother got into trouble again," he muttered while he gazed out of the window. "No one could help me with my homework last night because they were dealing with him."

I took his hand and tried to think of something to say. Brandon's older brother, Kyle, was always causing problems.

"Okay class," our teacher's voice swept down the dusty aisle of the bus. Mrs. Abigal started to do a headcount, her hand lightly patting the head of every student as she mumbled a number. "Now make sure you have everything you need," she told us. "Slattesville is a long way from here."

"You mean Stewartsville!" Allison corrected.

"Right, that's what I meant." Mrs. Abigal seemed flustered today. Slattesville was another small North Carolina town. The only difference between that town and Stewartsville was that Slattesville had a Hooters.

"Mrs. Abigal," Allison spoke, "I really hope you know where we're supposed to be going – I mean if you don't and you're the teacher then..." Allison turned to look at her friends sitting behind her – her clique and shrugged and made a face and they all laughed.

"I do, Allison," Mrs. Abigal tried to be patient with her, but it was no secret that everyone hated Allison. "I just said the wrong town, no big deal."

Allison shut up for the time being and Mrs. Abigal went on with her headcount. I shut my eyes when her hand pressed down on the top of my head as she counted, "Thirteen."

"Oh look," Allison's voice jumped around from the back of the bus. "Joey and Brandon are partners again – what a surprise."

"Allison, that's enough," Mrs. Abigal said, finishing the headcount and heading back up the dirty aisle of the hot bus. It was May and the school year was winding down, which made my heart ache. How would I get to see Brandon this summer?

"You get new shoes?" Brandon noticed, pointing down at my shiny black penny loafers. I was so glad he noticed!

"Yes, yesterday." I happily kicked my feet up until they hit the seat in front of me.

"They're cute," he said, taking my hand and holding it. I could hear Allison whispering something to Cindy. Then something hit my head – a stupid spitball. God, I hated her.

I turned around and looked right at her. "If you get my hair wet with your gross spit one more time I'm going to annihilate you," I threatened. She just stared at me because she didn't know what the word "annihilate" meant but Brandon did and snorted a bit as the bus started up. A Speak & Spell was my other favorite toy.

I reached down into my backpack to take out my Dramamine when I realized I'd forgotten it. I sat back up, already feeling the start of my motion sickness kick in. I took Brandon's hand and rested my head on his shoulder.

"I forgot my pills," I told him. "Did you bring music?" Music helped a lot with my carsickness and Brandon sometimes brought a walkman with him for these trips and would share an ear bud with me. It usually had a tape inside of music his brother liked – a mix of rock and rap. Beastie Boys, NWA and Twisted Sister. He would name the mix tapes too. The one that we usually listened to was called Twisted Brother.

"No, it'll be okay, I'll read to you," Brandon comforted me. He reached into his backpack and took out a book, The Mouse and the Motorcycle. I had never heard of it before but its cover fascinated me.

"Oh, Brandon," I squealed, squeezing his hand and resting my head on his shoulder as he opened the book to the first page.

44

The bus rolled up a dirt road towards an old church, our Stewartsville field trip destination. The cemetery seemed to go for miles and miles and made the little church look very small in comparison. The roof of the church was an army green and the rest of it was white. The church and cemetery was surrounded by woods. I found the whole place creepy and did not want to get off the bus. Brandon closed The Mouse and the Motorcycle and started to put it in his backpack.

"No, wait," I whispered excitedly. "I want to see the cover again." The cover of that book was one of my favorite things at the time. It still was, actually. I loved the happy mouse next to the motorcycle. I loved the little inscription by it: Ralph will take the ride of his life!

I wanted the ride of my life to happen but it wasn't going to happen on the stupid school bus.

"Come on, Joey," Brandon gently tugged on my wrist. "It's okay."

I got up and followed Brandon off the bus and he patiently waited for me by the entrance of the trail into the woods.

"Now we'll take a brief walk through the woods that leads to the church," Mrs. Abigal said. "Now the church was used, of course, as a school for a short while. That is...until the morning when the students came down with a mysterious illness and nine of them died. They are buried in the cemetery along with some cattlemen who helped build this place." Mrs. Abigal tried to smile, but I could tell she was as nervous as I was. "Now once we complete our stone rubbing then we will take a tour of the old church and have our lunch inside there."

"I don't want to do this," I whispered to Brandon.

"Its fine," he assured, and we started on the path through the woods as Mrs. Abigal led the way.

"Look at them," I heard Allison say, a few girls behind us. "It's like they're married."

"Ignore her," Brandon told me. "She's just jealous." Brandon had quite the ego about him, but I couldn't blame him. I was sure my constant fawning over him had something to do with it.

45

Eventually I put the spirograph back in the drawer and went downstairs to visit my mom. I felt bad for locking myself away in my room the whole day. I needed time, though, to catch up with the crazy year I had. I had Brace's cream colored shirt on and a pair of Victoria's Secret sweatpants. I wanted my tattoos covered because I wasn't ready to discuss them with mom. I was wearing the same pink and red platform shoes from the summer.

"Nice outfit," Mom quipped as I came into the kitchen. I stared at the kitchen table. It was covered with old Polaroid pictures – pictures of a me I hardly recognized. Mom was obsessing over the past now that I was home. She'd taken all the old Polaroid pictures out of the drawer and had them spread out over the kitchen table. It was like looking at a giant puzzle of my childhood. She started talking about Westside Manor, a place she lived with her sister in her "heyday" before she got married and had a child. Sometimes I felt like I ruined her life. "Oh you should have seen the guys that lived there," she'd swoon when she used to tell me old stories of her dating life. Mom loved to write descriptions on the back of the Polaroid pictures. Some photos had so many details written on the back you could put them together and a have a retro graphic novel of sorts. In some of them my hair was crimped and in others, I sported a nightmare of a perm.

"Here's one of you and Brandon," she said as I sat down. Mom had a warm smile on her face and beaming eyes. Mom always wanted Brandon and me to get married. The idea was for me to stay close to home after high school, get married and raise some kids.

I looked at the picture and didn't recognize the little blonde girl with the huge smile on her face. Brandon had his arm around me and had a dashing smile on his face and that silly patchwork cap he always wore. Its white and blue checkered pattern clashed with the shirts he always wore.

"He always wore that hat," Mom pointed.

"Yeah." I picked up the picture and looked at the back where mom had written Brandon and Joey 1986. 1986. Good lord. Ten years ago. I wondered how much Brandon had changed. And then it was though mom could read my mind.

"He was so cute – oh and you should see him now – all muscle and tanned," Mom rested her elbow on the table and her fist was against her cheek as she shook her head, overwhelmed. "He belongs on the cover of one of those romance novels!" Oh boy. I was pretty sure mom was in love with Brandon. "And what he's doing for his brother," she praised.

"Kyle?" I was amazed Kyle was still alive considering all the trouble he got into when he was a teenager. Brandon would tell me stories on the bus. Kyle didn't get along with their neighbors and was always egging their house or keying their car. "Is he in prison," I assumed. One night Kyle hid behind his neighbors bushes with nothing on beneath his trench coat and jumped out to scare his neighbors when they returned from a dinner party, flashing them his goods. Apparently he was high on cocaine and was arrested for indecent exposure.

"No," Mom sort of laughed and pushed her Pepsi can away. The rim was covered in awful neon pink lipstick. Three seconds later she pulled the can back towards her. "But if he was, Brandon would have to fork over the money to bail him out."

"Does...Brandon have a lot of money?"

"Compared to Kyle? He's a billionaire!" Mom laughed like crazy. I wanted to brag about my pool money but I figured my mom wouldn't find it as awesome as I did.

"So what is the deal?" I asked, losing patience.

"Well somehow between getting arrested and not working, Kyle found the time to get a girl pregnant. Hadn't even married her! The whole Guy Family freaked out. They wouldn't let Kyle hear the end of it so he married the poor thing. Lucy gave birth to a beautiful son Kyle can't even afford to feed! One night he went out to play pool and never came back until the next night!"

"Where did he go to play pool at?" I had to know. If there was a place in Holden to play pool, I had to know. I had to pass the time somehow, after all.

"What does that matter?!" Mom exclaimed. I couldn't take her yelling. "So anyway Brandon has stepped in. Gosh, that boy. You've been gone a long time, Joey, a lot has happened." I'd only been gone for a year but okay. I wasn't going to interrupt because once mom started talking about Brandon Guy, there was no stopping her. My head hurt from all these facts and from Mom's enthusiastic hootin' and hollerin'.

"And Kyle shows no appreciation," she went on, bent. "He walks around like the world owes him something. I saw him at Chevy's the other night and told him to get it together!"

"You didn't..." I was amazed.

"Oh I sure did!" Mom shot back. "Beware, Joey," Mom warned, "Some guys stay fifteen years old forever. They want a girlfriend and a mom all at once!"

"So Brandon's doing okay though?" I asked. I hoped my calm tone would rub off on her. I still wanted to be with Brace. I just wasn't sure if I could go back to the same city Daniel lived in. I should have gone to the cops. I was so haunted by so many things...

"Yes – why wouldn't he be okay?" Mom wondered.

I just shrugged.

"He works a lot, he lives alone...still...I think..." Mom paused and started studying me in a way that made me nervous. "So is there a boy in Chicago?" I was amazed Mom thought to ask.

"Yes. There are a lot of boys in Chicago. It' actually the 3rd most populous city in the US with 2.7 million people and a lot of them are male."

"Okay, missy, your father is bringing burgers back from Chevy's and if you keep being a smart butt I won't let you have one." My mom was never one to curse, so she wouldn't even say smartass. I decided to watch my behavior because Chevy's had to be one of the most delicious burger joints in all of North Carolina and I was starving. I didn't eat anything all day except for the peanuts on the plane.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, but I didn't tell her about Brace. I could not talk about anything that happened in Chicago yet. I'd rather keep talking about Brandon – and I was sure Mom would too.

"Now do you need anything? We can go shopping tomorrow," Mom said after a minute of getting over her sensitive feelings. "I want you to have a nice, relaxing two weeks before you go back." I wasn't sure if I was going back. I had no idea what I was doing. "So...where do you work now?" Mom inquired. That was the question I was really afraid of. That was the question that horrified me. Thank god Dad came in and distracted her, his arms full of groceries and a warm, delicious smelling Chevy's paper bag. He looked stressed out about something.

"They were out of baked potatoes," he told Mom, placing the Chevy's bag down on the table. I wanted to claw at it like a vulture, but I remained calm. The white paper bag had the word Chevy's on it in red and black checkers and a cute little race car next to it. "I got you two cheeseburgers – hope that's okay. Hey, Joey." Dad barely got those last two words out before he collapsed into the old kitchen chair that still had the same sunflower patterned cushion on it from 1972. Its pegs were all rusty. My room wasn't the only thing that hadn't changed about this place – or Holden for that matter. Except apparently Brandon had a tan now.

Dad waved his baseball cap around at the bag before putting it back on his head, covering his messy black hair. My dad always kept a black comb in the front pocket of his shirt. It was always the kind with the word Unbreakable inscribed on it.

I had no idea how hungry I was until the salty smell of the warm food hit my face. I hadn't told my dad to get me and food and now I regretted it.

"You want-want one?" he stuttered. "I got three burgers." Ah, he'd thought of me anyway. There were times I absolutely loved my dad and this was one. I put my hand into the warm bag and pulled out a warm burger wrapped in silvery paper.

Mom loved Chevy's baked potatoes. They came with a heart attack-helping of tons of sour cream and butter. They were very popular and Chevy's was always running out of them.

"Got fries too," Dad boasted. He reached in and brought out a super-sized thing of fries and dropped them on the table. Mom took the rest of the food out. Dad had gotten her a chocolate milkshake, which I guess I was eyeing because she split it with me, taking one of my old E.T. glasses that came with a McDonalds Happy Meal down from the cupboard.

"You still have that glass?" I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"Of course," Mom smiled. "Why would I throw it out?" She dumped half her milkshake into it and I stared at E.T. and Gertie and the words Be Good inscribed on the glass as I sipped the delicious cold chocolate shake. "You were in love with Elliott when you were a little girl," Mom reminded. "He was your favorite boy – well, after Brandon." There she went again.

It felt good to be here right now, which was surprising. Brace was right – I needed this. I pushed up the sleeve of his soft shirt and looked at my tattoo of that date.

"Joey, when someone asks you who you got your pink hair from, who will you name?" Dad chuckled. The other thing I liked about my dad was how he laughed at his own jokes. He never cared if anyone else did or not.

"I don't know," I grinned.

"Say your mom used to have pink hair." He kept laughing.

"Oh Bill," Mom rolled her eyes. "I was telling her all about Brandon..." she steered the conversation back to that, again, surprising no one. I saw dad's eyes go blank. I bet she talked about him all the time, even when I was in Chicago. He was tuning her out. "You know..." Mom paused for almost a minute. "I don't think it was a good idea for them to take him out of school like that. I think he would have gone a lot further in life. That doesn't mean he's not a good boy but his social skills...I feel like he settled for too little."

"Mom, he's only, like, twenty-one. He has time."

"I don't think he realizes it – he's too busy helping Kyle out." Mom looked like she was drowning in despair all of the sudden.

"Mom? He'll be fine," I assured. But would he? You know what happened...

Mom moved her hands across the napkin in her lap, smoothing it out even though it didn't need smoothing.

"He did have a slight drinking problem, you know, after what happened." She glanced at me. "But that's all...better, I think." I wondered if she still had the old newspaper article about what the bus driver did.

I looked down at my food then back at Mom. She actually looked at little teary-eyed.

"Did he ever go to therapy?" I asked.

"No, he's not the type. Besides, he can't afford it with helping Kyle out like he does." Mom kept touching the back of her neck nervously before silently returning to her food.

46

The calm of The South. That was nice to wake up to. My parents were out shopping so I had the whole apartment to myself but all I cared about was the pool. It was heated and no one was out there. There was a giant Christmas wreath on the clubhouse door and fog lifted from the blue chlorine water in a slow hypnotic motion, somewhat pleasant and somewhat looking like a scene from a horror film. In any case, I could not wait to surrender myself to it. I bought a swimsuit at the airport yesterday, along with some other overpriced things I didn't need but I felt like splurging on. I was a bit nervous to put the bathing suit on even though I tried it on in the store. I was easily gaining weight these days and last night's Chevy's dinner certainly didn't help.

The swimsuit was a black one-piece with an oval-shaped hole in the very middle. It showed a great deal of cleavage. The color had a nice effect on the subtle pink in my blonde hair. I also bought a box of blonde hair dye but wasn't ready to fool with it yet.

I went into the bathroom. Dad had bought a cute little water fountain and set it by the bathtub. There were giant, grey egg-shaped stones in it and the little sound it made as the water ran over the rocks was relaxing. There was also a wicker basket full of toiletries and some rosemary in a vase. The bathroom smelled nice. It was also nice to look at the floor and not see anything scurry into a crack like I used to in my apartment with Virginia.

I put my hair dye in the medicine cabinet and put my bathing suit on. The thought of sinking into that heated water in the cool winter air seemed so therapeutic to me, but the main thing was just knowing Daniel was nowhere around. It was almost as if it had all been a nightmare I finally woke up from.

My hair was almost long enough to have to pull back but I didn't bother. Lastly, I slipped on my new black platform shoes. They were totally out-of-season but I didn't care. Besides, it wasn't that cold and I was only walking over to the pool.

On my way out, the phone rang. My parents still had the same landline from the 60s. It was sunshine-yellow and matched the sunflowers on the seats. The avocado wallpaper around the phone was peeling off the wall. Everything here was pretty outdated. They still had one of those TV's from the 1980s with an antenna sticking out of it.

"Hello?" I answered, figuring it would be my crazy Aunt Rose.

"Good morning," a chipper male voice kicked in. "This is Tony from Solar Sun calling to verify your installation appointment today at three pm."

"Uh..."

He got impatient with me and his professional cheery tone fell apart. "You have an appointment or not?"

"I...guess...my mom probably made it."

"Okay!" he went back to his chipper tone but it sounded rather sarcastic. "See you at three then – happy holidays!" he said before slamming the phone down.

I quickly escaped to the pool before I could be bothered again. It smelled of pine needles and chlorine. The pool was heaven. Fog rose from the water and no one was around. Beige lawn chairs were set out around the pool and a pile of floats and toys were over by the pool house with a stack of clean towels. There was a handwritten sign that read FLOATS ARE FOR KIDS! DON'T PUT DIRTY TOWELS BACK HERE! Other than the eyesore of the terrible sign the place was really nice, especially with all the Christmas decorations. There were little plastic deer and Santas hanging on the Christmas wreaths.

I sank into the water and let the warmth hug me before I went all the way in; the sounds of the crazy world completely went away as I sank to the bottom of the pool. I let myself go all the way down until my bottom touched the floor of the pool. I gleefully wrapped my arms around my knees and floated back up to the surface. Joy was a morning swim in a heated pool surrounded by Christmas decorations. I was so happy I might cry, and I never cried happy tears. The combination of the crisp, cold air and the warmth of the water made me think of the time Brace and I made out in the snow.

I swam from one end of the pool to the other; I even did a few backstrokes before diving back under the water. I imagined what my body looked like from above – just a quick blur dashing about.

When I came back up, my peaceful swim was suddenly interrupted by a horrible hammering sound coming from the other side of the fence. It sounded like a hammer banging against a piece of metal. BANG! BANG! BANG! It was the loudest, most unnerving sound I'd ever heard. What on earth.

I got up and took a fresh towel from the stack and wrapped it around me. I stood up on a plastic chair to look over the fence at a young man fixing something on the side of the clubhouse.

"Do you mind with all the racket?" I said.

"Sorry ma'am, just doin' my job." He kept his back turned to me as he said this, his tone somewhat irritable. He also sounded vaguely familiar. I just stared at him. His butt did look cute in his rustic orange work uniform.

I looked over and saw the Solar Sun van parked not too far away. It was parked between two parking spaces so the people who lived in apartments 6B and 7B would not be able to park there.

"Nice parking job," I quipped. He stopped, threw his hammer down and looked up at me. All at once I noticed that square jaw and how his brown eyes matched his brown hair perfectly.

"Oh my god..." I muttered. He was still boyish but his face was alive with handsomeness shadowed by a frown that never seemed to completely fade. He always had broad shoulders, even as child, but he had really turned into a heartbreaker. Mom was right about that.

"It's me...Joey," I just said.

"Brandon," he said, no emotion involved. He went back to his hammer. He did not remember me and nothing hurt – not even Daniel – as much as that.

I slowly climbed down from the chair. My feet didn't even feel the cold of the cement. How could he not remember me? I wasn't going to give up. I got back on the chair and looked down at him. He had a giant leather tool belt around his waist with a screwdriver in it as well as a set of keys. It looked heavy but he didn't seem to be affected by the weight.

"You really don't remember me?" I said, my head hanging over the fence awkwardly as I tried to shout over his relentless hammering. He gave me a closer look, his frown softening to a cute pout. Then his pretty eyes widened a little and he covered his mouth in shock.

"Shit, I was prolly drunk that night; could we talk about this later? I got work expecting me to fix everything under the sun right now." I didn't know what to say. It would have been less hurtful if he ran up and punched me in the face. I jumped off the chair, grabbed my things and headed back to the apartment.

47

My parents were back from their shopping adventure and talking and laughing about something in the kitchen.

"Joey?" Mom called out. "That you?"

"Uh huh." I replied very timidly, hoping she wouldn't hear me and I could sneak off to my room just like I did when I was a teenager. I just wanted to cry into my pillow. How could he not remember me? I gave him all my candy hearts on Valentine's Day. I clutched his hand every single morning that year. It had meant nothing to him. Or maybe he pushed it out of his mind because of Stewartsville.

My mom came out of the kitchen and into the living room with this brazen smile on her face.

"You see him?" her mouth stayed open in a big smile and her eyes gleamed with hope. She set that whole thing up.

"Did you really do that?" I asked. I didn't know why I was so surprised. Mom was a meddler.

"Do what?" She played innocent, with that silly smile still on her face.

"Call Solar Sun so Brandon would come out here!"

"We needed fixtures installed."

"What fixtures?!" I blurted.

"Listen, Joey, you're here for two weeks – you should reconnect with him. I mean what else are you going to do?"

"Play pool."

"What?! Oh get serious. If you don't get serious one day your life will be too serious to take."

Yeah, already happened, Mom.

I just stood there for a minute. Maybe I would call Ashley later and check in.

"So, how was it?" Mom asked as I continued my climb to my room.

"He's a regular Romeo," I muttered before walking into my room and locking the door.

48

I could still hear Brandon's racket from my room – the sounds of a hostile working man. I sat on my vanity bench by the window and looked out at him. He was on the roof of the clubhouse. He'd taken his shirt off even though it was barely 50 degrees. His body was so toned. As soon as he took his shirt up and rolled it into a ball, he put it aside and took whatever he'd put in his mouth out. He had on nice big sturdy boots. He couldn't have had a better body. He clearly worked out, not to the point where he was all veiny and too muscular like the covers of those crazy fitness magazines, but he definitely took care of himself. I could see what mom was fussing about. He still had that same boyish charisma and nice head of hair except it wasn't in the silly bowl cut his mom kept it in when he was a boy. It was just a messy couldn't-be-bothered shag now. Watching him work was my new favorite thing. The way his back muscles flexed when he crawled about on the roof of the pool's clubhouse. The way his muscles flexed when he lifted something heavy.

"Brannndonnn," I sighed his name against the window, saying it just like I'd said it years ago when I announced my pick for field trip partner.

I decided to take a nap. Even with the noise mishap, the swim still left me feeling relaxed. I must have needed sleep because by the time I woke up, it was nearly seven pm. I was still in my bathing suit and smelled vaguely of chlorine. I heard my mom and dad still talking, their voices coming up through the vent on my floor. And I heard another voice – a deep male voice, joining in every so often. He sounded a little bored, giving dull "yeah" and "I do remember" responses.

Brandon. Mom must have invited him over for dinner and was cramming thoughts of yesteryear into his head. I tiptoed into the bathroom and looked at myself. I actually looked decent. I looked like I'd been asleep for a day, my cheeks were rosy and my blonde hair curled a little at the ears. My boobs were even bigger than usual because I was ovulating.

I washed my face and changed clothes. I loved the grey sweater-dress I bought at the airport. It hugged my delicate curves just right and went well with my new black platform shoes. I brushed my hair and put a dab of makeup on – just enough to give me a dewy glow – and went downstairs to join them, my heart pounding happily like it used to on Field Trip Fridays.

I slowly approached the kitchen table, trying to figure out what the mystery soup was mom had on the stove. Never one to shy away from eye contact, Brandon looked right at me, those arresting eyes of his nearly making me trip on my way to the table. I sat down and caught my breath.

I studied Brandon as he studied me. We were very curious about one another but the reasons were different now. They were sexual now. We were now very aware of every function of our bodies. We knew how to love and we knew how to hurt and our eyes glowed with such fascinating discoveries. He still had on his work clothes and smelled faintly of sweat.

I noticed his eyes falling to the tattoo on my wrist as he popped a piece of bread in his mouth. I tugged on the sleeve until the tattoo was covered. He held his spoon like he didn't know what to do with it.

"So..." Mom tried to start a conversation between us. "You two have a lot to catch up on – I mean it's been ten years!"

"You remember me now?" I simply said to him. He gave a quick, apologetic nod.

"Yes," he sounded so submissive just then. "I'm sorry."

Maybe he hated me. He hated me because of Stewartsville. I felt like I should be the one apologizing. Instead, I eyed the strange soup mom had made. No wonder Brandon wasn't using his spoon for anything specific. Dad looked like he was having a wild fantasy about Chevy's.

"See you got some tattoos," Brandon said, wearily moving his hand a little. His voice was so deep and scruffy and southern. I silently tried to tell my body not to like it. You didn't come here for any boy mess. Just some days by the pool and then you'll finally grow up. My heart still wanted to shoot out of my chest and go back to Brace's bed(s).

"You did?" My mom sounded wildly concerned, like having tattoos was worse than having cancer. "What tattoos?"

"They're fake – from the gumball machine." I stared down at the soup and cornbread. I could fee Brandon's dark amusement taking over his face. He knew the tattoo was real. Good lord this was awkward. It was hot in here. My mom always overdid it with the heat in the winter and it wasn't even that cold out to begin with. There was also heat coming off the mystery soup.

"Um..." I moved around in my seat as if I were tied to it and was trying to escape. "Uh...so what do you do now – besides work?" I asked Brandon.

He looked at me and smiled that sweet smile of his. The ghost of a child was in there somewhere. "There more to life?" he asked, drawing some little laughs from Dad. "You know, I don't know." He sat back and my eyes fell to his strong chest. I could not stop looking at him now. My body wanted to hurl itself across the table and mount him right here and now on that sunflower chair until my thighs were plastered together from his mad pop, until that stupid old sunflower faded to a nonsensical smudge.

"Go to the bar," he shrugged. He couldn't tell what I was really thinking. My thoughts were like a traffic street on an empty street at 3 am directing no one. He studied me as he locked his hands behind his head so his arm muscles flexed.

"The bar? Is there just one...bar in Holden?" I asked.

"Uh, yeah. The Mill." He gave me this look like no one else was in the room with us. I realized I was sliding down my seat like I was melting and I straightened back up.

"Should check it out sometime," he said. That voice. It was so deep.

"Uh yeah." Did he mean we should check it out sometime or I should check it out sometime? I hated it when guys left off the first word, the one that made all the difference.

"Joey, do you drink?" Mom asked, all panicky again, as if I drank cyanide. I drank cyanide and had cancer. I wondered if she knew there were a lot of people out there with tattoos and enjoyed drinking here and there.

"Uh yeah...yeah, on occasion. I also play pool." Hell, why not just put that out there? My parents knew by now I wasn't exactly successful when it came to life.

"Really?" At least my dad was impressed. He fidgeted with his Unbreakable comb and kept looking at me to spill more information.

"Yes, I won eight hundred dollars on a game once." I sort of gloated, but Mom was there so I also had to be apologetic. I wondered what I, Brandon, and Dad would talk about if Mom wasn't here.

"Holy shit!" Brandon called out. Then he quickly saw the look on Mom's face and apologized like the good southern boy he was. "Sorry ma'am."

Mom waved her hand a little and said nothing. She looked a bit devastated. And just like back then when nothing else seemed to make sense, Brandon's eyes found mine.

"Do you wanna go outside or something?" He looked very relieved when I nodded. He looked at my mom and politely grazed her shoulder on our way out. "Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Mills," he told her even though he hadn't touched his food. My eyes fell down his jeans that were dirty from a hard day's work. Then I looked at the marks on his roughed up timberlands. Brandon. He probably studied at a community college before settling for his job with Solar Sun. He drove a truck. He shopped at Abercrombie and Fitch and jerked off to a Victoria's Secret catalogue he never asked for that just showed up in the mail one day. And he never questioned any of these things. I could tell this from the way he lit his cigarette once we were out under the porch light in moth territory. I could tell by his body language. I could tell by how slowly he said words before he was even done thinking about what he really wanted to say.

"So...uh...what you wanna do?" he asked. He sounded like he was up for anything but also like he was tired enough to sleep the rest of the week away. I almost instinctively took his hand – the little girl in me reaching out for it – but I stopped myself. I played it cool too.

"Um, I don't know."

"You really win eight hundred dollars playing pool?" he gave me a doubtful side-glance. He flashed that crooked smile of his, one corner of his mouth going up and the other turning down.

"Yes, Brandon." I wish I had proof of that night. It was great the way I walked up to those guys, that sort of confidence in myself was rare. I wanted to show that night to people like it was a movie I was in.

"Okay," Brandon gave his best full-on smile and nodded to his truck. "Prove it to me then."

49

The Mill was almost on the outskirts of Holden and closer to Stewartsville. I looked far away from the sign that read Stewartsville 10 ml and over at Brandon.

"So how have you been?" I asked him.

"Oh busy, I don't know." He didn't sound like the type to dwell. Everything he did seemed automatic. "What about you, city girl?" he grinned as he pulled into the rocky parking lot of The Mill. I was glad to be here mainly so I would no longer have to endure the Phish CD Brandon had been playing the whole time. That was when I really missed Brace. There was not a time when he listened to something I didn't like or vice versa.

Brandon's truck was pretty clean with the exception of some tools in the back and a beer can on the floor. It all clanked a little when I moved my feet and opened the door. The climb down was massive because the truck stood on huge wheels built for any kind of weather.

The Mill looked like a creepy cabin one would find in the woods. The neon beer signs glowed from inside and all the vehicles in the parking lot were trucks. Brandon proved to still be as chivalrous as he was back then and came around and helped me down so my body slid against his rather erotically until my platform shoes met the rocks and I had to sustain some kind of relationship with them. I was barely halfway across the parking lot by the time Brandon was holding the door open for me.

"Should I carry you?" he smirked as I wobbled towards the door.

"Maybe on the way out," I smiled back.

The Mill was sort of intimidating. It certainly wasn't like any of the cool bars in Chicago. The only beer on tap was Budweiser. Most guys drank from bottles and hung out in flannel, sitting at the bar and eying the game on TV. I looked around for the pool table and spotted it over in the corner.

"What you want to drink?" Brandon asked, taking out some cash from his worn brown leather wallet with the stitching of a cowboy hat on the front.

"Ummm..." I really wanted a Wolf's Tooth Ale but that was not an option here. All they had were the generic offerings of watery, bready beer. I wanted something dark and a little spicy.

"Hey," Brandon greeted the bartender as he waited on my response.

"Budweiser," I said, right before I heard that awesome sound of the balls break on the pool table. That first shot. To see where the balls went and who was solids and who was stripes. I really wanted to play pool.

Brandon directed me over to a booth on the other side of the bar. A poster of a girl in a bikini drinking a beer was taped to the wall paneling. As I scooted into the booth my fingers slipped down through the holes of the torn leather seat. I noticed someone had drawn a big penis in the bottom corner of the poster and sporadic lines squirted from the head to demonstrate semen.

"Thanks for the beer," I said. Brandon just nodded and looked at me.

"So," he said, after a minute, dragging the palms of his hands along the table until they slid off the edge. I couldn't get over how good he looked. "Where were we?" he joked, laughing. His smile lit up this dark dive bar as he brought his bottle of beer to his mouth.

"I know right?!" I was relieved that he was laughing because he seemed a bit tense on the drive over. He sipped his beer and glanced up at the blonde girl in the bikini.

"I just always remember us holding hands...on a bus."

"Mrs. Abigal," he recalled, nodding. He sounded a little dark just then.

"I'm sor..."

"Don't," he quickly moved his hand, slicing the space between us with it. He made it clear he didn't want to discuss anything-Stewartsville. "Tell me about Chicago."

I did not want to discuss that. I talked a little about the structure of the buildings and how nice the beaches were in the summer. The pizza was great. I swore it was better than New York pizza. I avoided any personal things about myself. Lake Shore Drive was nice. Navy Pier. The Sears Tower. I sounded like a nervous travel guide. There was an awkward silence after my rambling. I looked over at the two guys playing an intense game of pool. Then that awful thing occurred where two people started to speak at the same time, voices clashing, nothing understood.

He politely gestured for me to go first.

"Do you play pool?"

"Uh yeah," he ran his hand over his boyish face. "Sure. I'm a guy."

What did that mean?

"You're cocky now," he said. This surprised me. I never thought of myself as cocky.

"I am?"

"Yeah," he laughed the word out. "It's good – you were always so shy," he rubbed his arm with his other hand, grinned sheepishly and sat up a little in the booth. Our voices were sleepy and I could feel this strange tension between us. We were fighting it to try and have a relaxed conversation. "I just wanted to look after you...I don't know," he said, taking a cigarette from his pack of Marlboro Lights.

"You did, Brandon."

He kept his eyes on me, subtly looking for something he could never find then or now. He removed his hand from his beer glass and lazily aimed it at me. "You look good – I don't know if I said that before but...most people come back from the hard city all skinny, but you look good."

"Okay..." I had no idea what he meant by that. "Thanks." He nodded and drank his beer.

"Pizza's good there, huh?" he said. I just nodded. Was I that fat? I glanced at my reflection in the cracked mirror on the wall on the other side of the bar. I was definitely nice and curvy. I could almost feel Brace's arms squeeze me and hear him whisper how amazing I was.

I looked back at Brandon, who was holding quite a discouraging frown on his face.

"How's your brother?" I asked, trying to gently steer away from the topic of my weight.

"Oh you know, the same," he shrugged. "He wants to see Beastie Boys next year."

That was it? Beastie Boys? "Mom said he had a baby."

"Oh yeah, he did. Or well his girlfriend did." Brandon kept a straight, rather bored expression the whole time. "Yup. I'm an uncle." There was a gleam of pride in Brandon's eyes for a second when he spoke of being an uncle, but it vanished when he looked back up at me.

"Mom said you were kind of...picking up the pieces...helping out with Kyle's son."

He just nodded and continued to stare at me. His eyes didn't seem to compute what his ears heard. I thought I felt his boot against my platform shoe for a minute but then it – or whatever had been on the floor by it – moved. I saw something scurry across the dark, hardwood floor and tried to ignore it. A rat.

"I'm always picking up the pieces, Joey," Brandon suddenly vented. He paused to pick his beer up and take a sip. He stared at the drink once he set it back down and kept talking. "Like...when I was little, I didn't exist until my brother did something and my dad needed my help. Hey boy, drive me to the store," he mocked his father. "My mama kept things together, you know? Made sure at dinner every one smiled at least once." He held up his index finger and seemed to get taken down by a certain memory.

"Do you wanna play pool?" I decided to ask because this conversation was not going well.

"Okay." Brandon got up and took our drinks over to the table. He watched with an impressive eye as I set up the balls and chalked the tip of my stick. Yup, messin' with a pro now.

I got in position and heard a few of the old bar stools creak as some patrons turned to watch. I guess they never saw a girl play pool before. We were just supposed to do simple things, like push babies out of our vaginas.

I just let the stick go and gave the balls an effortless hit like Thomas that night I won all that money. The balls scattered and the solid blue and solid red went in. In my head I heard Brace cheer me on.

Whatever was ailing Brandon seemed to vanish and he looked up at me wide-eyed and smiled.

"Well goddamn," he said, running his hand over his mouth. His amazement was always a darling thing to witness.

"I gotcha now," I playfully spoke. I felt better now, the oddness of not seeing each other for ten years was slowly fading and Brandon and I felt more relaxed around each other. There was still something icy about the way he watched me though. This Jekyll and Hyde slideshow...

"Okay then," he humorously said when it was finally his turn to shoot. "Now I ain't got no money now," he made sure to tell me, wiggling his fingers around. "This is just for fun."

"Of course."

But it wasn't – every time I played pool now I took it very seriously and acted like I was in a movie and the stakes were high and if I didn't win someone was going to kill my entire family.

Brandon got nothing in. He tried to play it off. It was like watching someone get up after they fell and hoped no one saw. He sipped his beer as I went in for the kill.

"Let me know if you want me to give you some lessons," I said.

"Watch yourself," he said, his voice all gruff with seriousness. That Taurus temper was stirring.

"So what does the winner get?" he wondered as I mercilessly kicked his ass and some straggler wandered over from the bar. I ignored him and just kept going. Right now, there were three solids and about seven stripes on the table.

"Don't you get beat by no girl now," the straggler told Brandon. The South – calm blue sky and misogyny for miles. I paid the guy no mind and went on with the game. He had a beard and a really bad spot on his face that was red and peeling. He set his beer down on the little shelf and leaned against the half wall like we invited him over to watch. He tried to make small talk with Brandon but Brandon gave him the cold shoulder. I remembered that about him back then. If he didn't like someone, there was no changing it.

Brandon came over to me and whispered in my ear, "Let me know if this guy makes you feel uncomfortable." I smiled.

"He makes the wall uncomfortable," I muttered. Brandon laughed and we went back to the game but I couldn't really concentrate. I hated it, but the guy watching me was making me nervous and I could feel Brandon's temper doubling in size. Brandon eventually walked over to him, chiseled jaw up and dark eyes raining down on him.

"Hey man," Brandon tossed his hand out to the guy. "You mind giving us some space?"

The guy gave Brandon a wry look and went nowhere.

"Hey?" I said to Brandon. "Wanna just get out of here?"

"No," Brandon held his hand out to me but kept his eyes on the guy. "We're gonna finish this game."

"It's fine, Brandon."

Brandon stared the guy down and swatted some hair out of his eye. The guy laughed under his breath. I could count all of his teeth on one hand. He eventually trudged back to the bar for another drink. I got it then – Brandon would never be as intimidating as his brother Kyle and that really bothered Brandon. Brandon looked disappointed there would be no fight. He turned to me, fire in his eyes.

"I gotta go by Solar Sun and drop something off," he said, looking at the table and going over to shoot. "Wanna go with me?" he didn't look up as he finally got a couple of balls in. Satisfied, he retired his cue stick and so did I.

50

Solar Sun was downtown, in Holden's busiest area – a couple of banks, a post office, a theatre with a sagging roof no one bothered to fix after a hurricane swept through back in 1990, and a coffee shop.

"Hey?" I tapped the cold window to point at the coffee shop. "Is that new?"

"Fresh Start?" he said the name of the coffee shop as he turned down a dark street between an arcade that closed years ago and was now abandoned and looked like the perfect setting for a zombie film. On the other side was a Belk store and a Woolworths that was still, amazingly enough, in business. "Yeah, I get my coffee there every morning."

"I can't believe Holden finally has a coffee shop."

Brandon didn't see what the big deal was. He parked behind the Belk building. There was a mural of a little girl drinking a coke. There were a lot of images of girls with bottles around these parts.

We got out of Brandon's truck and went through a red door of the Belk building and down a long dark hallway.

"Solar Sun's upstairs," he said. We went to a big freight elevator at the end of the hallway.

"You have a key to the whole building?" I asked. I didn't know why I was whispering, we were the only ones here.

"Ain't no one can let us in," Brandon said. "No one else is here." Brandon was carrying his tool box and looked adorable. He carried it the same way he carried his metal lunchbox back when he was ten. We got off the elevator and walked down a brief hallway. The walls were a grayish blue with an unexciting sign that read Solar Sun, The Future Starts With Us.

He pushed a code to get inside a door at the end of the hall and I followed him into a very tiny storage room with a bunch of fuse boxes in the wall and a desk with a bunch of papers on it, a wrench and an empty Fresh Start coffee cup.

He turned around after he put his tool box down on the table that took up most of the room and reached over me and pushed the heavy steel door shut. It made a loud bang when it closed like it would never open again. We were not going anywhere anytime soon.

I stood against the table and he stood in front of me. Once the door shut his brown eyes fell down on me and took their time studying me all over. Here was a moment – a fat moment pregnant with desire. Or anger.

"Are you mad at me?" I had to ask. His eyes roamed me for another minute or so. He didn't owe me anything, not even a response. The way he looked at me woke up every part of my body.

"Brandon?" I said his name like I wasn't sure it was him.

He brought his hand up and touched my face, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

"I don't know..." I started to say. I didn't know. I loved Brace. I didn't know what I was doing. He put his finger on my lips and took a few steps closer so my body was caught between the table and him. He ran his knuckles down the side of my face as his smell of nicotine and work sweat consumed me.

"You have fun showin' off back there?" he asked, contempt stored in his tone. I didn't know what to say. His tool belt was pressing against my belly. My dress was pretty thin and everything on him felt heavy and rough, like steak knives about to cut through tissue paper.

"Brandon." I lost a piece of myself every time I whispered his name. I lost Brace too. Brandon was the storm that never really burst and never let the sun back out either.

"I finally know what to do with you now," he said, his voice deep and ticklish as it traveled down my ear. I couldn't even swallow. The way he talked so low and moved slowly, taking me down with a lust that had been building for ten years. And anger. His fingers were curious. We just stood there and looked at one another, admiring and reminiscing. He grabbed my face when I looked away because I was feeling shy. He was not aggressive, but his hand was warm and firm as he pressed it against my cheek. I looked into his eyes. I put my hand on his to keep his hand against my face, slipping into its warmth and security. Maybe it was security. Maybe it was revenge.

"Where did you go?" he asked with a little tear in his eye and a little quiver in his voice.

"I don't know...where'd you go?" Our eyes climbed into each other. I stopped breathing for almost a minute. Then he just kissed me. It was a pretty aggressive kiss, my head forced back a little as I felt his stubble that I didn't notice until then, and his tongue pushed mine around in my mouth like he wanted me to swallow my own tongue so his could replace it. He picked me up with a quick, effortless lift and put me on the table and pushed himself between my legs as he kept kissing me. He reached back and lifted my dress up so I was no longer sitting on it and had to deal with the cold of the table against my bottom. Brandon was not nearly as gentle as Brace. Brace knew how to control his domineering side, but Brandon didn't care. His emotions flew around like daggers.

I gently pushed him away a little, wanting him to calm down.

"Slow," I put my finger on his lips and tried to ignore the burning light of furiousness in his eyes. He pulled his shirt up, showing off, like his body would excuse his behavior. I put my hand through his hair, forever trying to calm him down. He was pissed at me for Stewartsville; I could feel it in his kiss. I wanted him to calm down.

"Slow, baby," I whispered in his ear, gently petting his cock, which felt amazing under his dirty jeans. It was as fat as Brace's but not as long. He started kissing me again – not as hard as before but the aggression was still boiling. "Slow..." I was still trying to control him as I pressed my hands against his amazing ass and we shamelessly rubbed against one another.

"Brandon..." I felt the palms of his hands slide up my thighs. He quickly placed his hand in my underwear and eagerly fingered me.

"Oh!" My body reacted in all kinds of ways – liking it and not liking it. He pulled at my dress until it went over my head and met the floor and his hands grabbed my face and kissed me hard.

"Bran...Bran..." My whole body stirred up with excitement. I turned and kissed the palm of his hand. My other hand started to wonder over his body. He had this set of keys from work attached to his belt and they kept making noise as we writhed about in this consuming lust. He got very still as I touched him, looking down at my hand. The way he moved against my hand was so sexy. He shut his eyes as my fingers roamed over things hooked to his tool belt.

"Bran..."

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard," he said, his voice low and hoarse.

"Yeah?" I played. Then I ran my hand across the back of his warm neck and through his hair, messing it up a bit. We let the tension build some more before he got in me.

"Ah!" he entered me without warning and held me still, his hands on my thighs as he looked at me like he just won something. He put his hand around my throat and gently pushed me down on the desk. My knees parted as he pushed himself way up inside of me.

"Ah..." I tried to move but he started to crush my throat. "Okay...okay..." I sank down against the table and there wasn't much room with the phone and the tools until Brandon knocked them off.

"Oh god..." I just sighed as I felt him move around inside of me. This was happening. This was really happening. Gone was the innocence of us. I was full of all kinds of emotions and wondered if he felt the same. I pulled at his hair as he put his lips against my neck and I felt his teeth scrape against my skin.

"Brandon..." I said. I felt his hands grope my breasts as he kept on with his quick, robotic thrusts. He was pretty beasty. Then his warm dry lips brushed against mine and my mouth opened wide and we kissed terribly hard.

"I wanted you to kiss me so bad when we were kids," I said, touching his mouth. I rested my face against his broad shoulder and took in his smell as I slipped my finger between his teeth.

"I wanted to kiss you too," he said, between pumps and kisses. He started fucking me harder, putting his hand back on my throat so I had to lie back and take him that way.

"Ah...ahhh..." I started to feel tingling pleasure take over down there. "Oh..." and just when I was seconds away from thrashing about from what I knew would be one of the most amazing orgasms he ruined it with his bossiness.

"Turn over," he said. He was so impatient. "Turn over; I wanna get at you from behind."

I rolled over, hoping to get that same pleasure back and have an orgasm before he popped off, but it was never easy with me. He went straight for it, filling me up from behind, his cock harder than before. He pulled at me so my knees slid up and down the table as he went at me hard and spanked me on the bottom.

"Brandon!" I tried to sit up and touch his face, pull at his hair, but he had me pretty good and the hard fucking was overwhelming.

"Oh my god..." my body scooted back and forth from the intrusion. "Oh oh..."

He went harder and harder, and we were careening now for a super-crash of sex screams.

"Brandon, Brandon, Brandon, Brandon," I couldn't stop saying his name – it went off like an alarm.

"Brandon-Brandon-Brandon..."

"You're so wet baby," he finally spoke.

"Brandon," I was still sighing his name. He smiled a little.

"Damn...keep sayin my name."

"Bran...don..."

"Oh...oh..." I started sighing and clawing at the table. I'd never been fucked this hard. His sighs started to catch up with mine.

"OH!" He drew one more epic scream from me before he popped off.

51

What happens now? It was the only question that took over my fuzzy mind. I had no idea what time it was. I'm sure the ancient old clock tower out in the middle of Main Street had the right time but there was no window in this office to see it through. It had to be close to four am. Here I was on a cold metal table in some dingy office over a Belk department store. How did I get here? Life took me to some strange places.

Brandon was smoking a cigarette, lying on the table with his jeans around his ankles; his cock slung over his jutted hipbone like a happy wet slug with nowhere to go. His scruffy boots were still on. The air smelled of machinery, sex and cigarette smoke.

I glanced over at him. He was cute and boyish but so guy-next-door. He was so far from the type of guy I went for in Chicago. I kept thinking about what mom said about Brandon and how he had settled. Brace had not settled. There was an eagerness in Brace that I admired. He seemed so determined to get what – and who – he wanted out of life.

"We can't stay here – they find me like this in the morning, I'll be screwed...again." Brandon gave a little naughty snicker as he stood up and pulled his jeans up and picked up his heavy tool belt. I wondered what he was thinking. Did he have any regrets? Were those innocent memories of us being childhood sweethearts just defiled now? A burning Polaroid. Melting plastic where light once bled through to produce the image of smiling faces.

I started to feel a little sad as I got dressed. Brace. I couldn't love anyone. I was incapable of it. Maybe Brandon was too. I had horrible dark moments of remembering Daniel cramming his hand inside of me and I hated everything and everyone.

"I'll give you a ride home," Brandon said, grabbing his smokes and pushing them down into the back pocket of his jeans.

Well I'd hope so, I thought. Holden, North Carolina wasn't exactly known for its bustling public transportation.

As the truck started up, he asked a few questions while Grateful Dead played in the background.

"So why'd you go to Chicago?" he asked, backing out into a very vacant street. I was right – the tower clock had the time: 4:12 AM.

Everyone always asked why I went to Chicago. They never asked me why I left.

"Just to...get out of this little town."

"What's wrong with this little town?" Brandon sounded offended, as if he were the mayor of Holden. "You just needed more options?" he tried to guess.

I wasn't sure what he was getting at. I glanced over at him. He had on a Carolina Tar Heels sweatshirt over his Abercrombie shirt. His clothes didn't bother me though, not as much as his taste in music.

"I guess – I guess I just wanted to see what else was out there..."

"So..." he waited, turning the music down a little. Thank god. I was very tired after that sex and could fall asleep in his truck, but if talking made him turn the music down then I was game. "What else is out there? Because you came back."

He had a point. I almost felt like he wanted to argue about something. He definitely had a combative side.

"I did..." I said. "I guess just more of the same...more coffee shops."

"More pizza?" he smirked. Again with the damn pizza.

Brace. Brace was out there.

"Where's your brother seeing Beastie Boys at?" I changed the subject.

"Palooza," he said, making fish lips and saying the word kind of amusingly. I waited for him to invite me. That sounded like fun. He didn't. As we drove back through the quiet town towards my parents' apartment, I felt like I'd just royally fucked up the last good thing I had in my life – Brace.

Brandon slowed down to a complete stop at a traffic light.

"Hey?" his soft voice reached out for me in the dark car. He didn't sound defensive anymore. He'd let his guard down. It was a plea for me to look at him. I never did mind looking at him.

"I didn't mean to upset you," he wanted me to know. "You're just always so quiet. I always wondered if you were okay."

"I am, Brandon," I smiled and he smiled back at me, but his smile dropped from his face the second he looked at the traffic light.

52

All I wanted to do when I woke up the next day was take a hot oatmeal bath. I had a slight headache and felt achy all over. My mom was waiting in the hallway like some kind of spy when I emerged from my room. She had a huge smile on her face.

"I'm not gonna talk to you about it," I let her know right away, because I knew she wanted to hear all about last night, which I was sore from and just wanted to soak in the bath. I'd barely slept for six hours. And I was never going to talk about my sex life with my mom. What an entirely gross thing to do.

"Well he called for you today already," she happily announced.

Really? I was kind of shocked, but it didn't interrupt my beeline for the bathroom. I smelled like him and I wanted to smell like Brace again. One boy smelled honest and one boy smelled like deceit. I started my bathwater after I shut the door. My rudeness did nothing to keep mom from talking from the other side of the door.

"Sent your father out for some coffee – I'm guessing you could use some." I could hear the amusement in her voice. God, couldn't she just go away? "Might wanna put somein on that hickey!"

I froze in terror. I hadn't looked in the mirror yet. I remembered Brandon sucking on my neck like a leech but I had no idea there was any proof. I turned and looked in the mirror. My hair hadn't been combed in about twenty-four hours. And yes, there was a big red spot on the side of my neck my hair was not long enough to hide.

"I have some foundation if you need..."

"Mom?" I begged. I was about to lose it. I heard her back off, her footsteps fading as she went downstairs.

I planned on dying my hair today and maybe calling Ashley in Chicago. What would I tell Brace though? I got in the tub and felt my entire body thank me as I enveloped myself in the dissolving oatmeal. It even smelled like oatmeal. I felt the soreness where Brandon had been fade a bit. I took the rag and placed it over my face and slowly went completely underwater. The hickey stung a little bit but eventually my whole body went numb. Why did I let last night happen? Did I feel like I needed to be punished for Stewartsville? For Larry? Why did I let Brandon go at me like that?

After my long soak, I got out and started to put Brace's shirt on. I didn't feel right doing it though. I didn't deserve it. I went into my room in just a towel and dug around for clean clothes to put on. I put a little makeup on my neck to cover the hickey and went downstairs. Dad had gone to that coffee shop, Fresh Start. Coffee cups covered the coffee table, along with today's paper The Holden Scoop! I missed reading Chicago Times.

"Your father rented some John Travolta movies," Mom announced, with an enthusiastic assumption that I loved that actor when I had never in my life spoken of him once.

"Cool," I managed to speak. There were many emotions in me on the verge of erupting. I tried to keep it together. I pinched my bottom lip and fought to keep my eyes dry. I reached down for my coffee. "Thanks for the coffee, Dad."

"You're welcome," he said, glancing at me for a second before going back to his paper.

"You call Brandon back?" Mom nagged. I was really about to lose it on her.

"Not yet."

Dad looked at mom and I could tell he wanted to change the subject. I'd never been so grateful. "When do you want to go Christmas shopping?"

"Tomorrow, I guess," Mom said. She picked up a drugstore bag on the couch and started taking things out of it.

"Bought you a few toiletries and stuff," she let me know. She handed me some deodorant. "Now it says for an Active Life, but I think it will still work on you," she cracked. Then she put some new makeup and lotion down on the coffee table. I muttered a thank you. Did I smell? I hadn't been bothering with deodorant lately. I wanted to smell like Brace, but I never would. I was not a tall, sexy drummer boy.

"What should we have for dinner tonight?" Mom asked.

"I don't know," Dad thought it over. "We could go out."

"Yes, why don't we go to Seafood Treasures?" I could hear the anticipation in Mom's voice. She looked at me for feedback and I decided to escape into the kitchen and make some phone calls and maybe find something to eat so I could avoid that horrible seafood chain. I opened the fridge and looked inside. Food – so much food. Back in Chicago I could hardly afford groceries.

"What would you like for dinner?" Mom came around the corner.

"I don't know – I don't really feel like going out."

"Your father suggested beef stew."

"Sounds good." A big pot of stew in this little old kitchen where I could hide from the world sounded good. The phone rang and everyone just stared at it with their own reasons to fear it. Dad thought it was a debt collector and mom was afraid it was her chatty sister. I was sure it was Brandon.

"Why don't you answer it?" Mom pressured me, giving me a hopeful smile.

I picked it up and felt my voice drop down into a dark pit of mystery. "Hello?"

"Hello?!" a frantic woman responded. She sounded old, cranky and terribly confused and it took me no time at all to realize it was my crazy aunt. I simply handed the phone over to my mom.

"It's for you."

"You could've at least said hello," she griped as I went over to the breadbox. The tears were already developing in my eyes so I couldn't even see enough to get the tie off the bread. I betrayed Brace. And Brandon hated me with good reason, but that wasn't going to stop him from enjoying sex.

My dad came into the kitchen and I didn't want him to see my crying. I turned and quickly headed off to the stairs. The tears tumbled down my cheeks and got the bread wet before I even took a bite of the sandwich. If this was my own place, I would throw it down. I would throw it down on the stairs and stomp on it. I wanted someone to ask me why I came back all of the sudden, but I also didn't want to say why.

By the time I got into my room I lost my appetite. I cried so hard. I hadn't cried this hard since the night Daniel attacked me. I hated myself for cheating on Brace, but maybe I was doing him a favor. I felt like I was doing Brandon one too. I knew he was mad at me. What did he want with me now?

53

That night my parents went Christmas shopping. I stayed behind, appreciating the alone time I had. The weather was in an in-between nothing – not cold enough to snow and certainly not hot enough to suntan.

I picked up the sandwich on the dresser from earlier. The bread was hard so I threw it in the trash. I was really nervous when dialing Ashley's number. Brace's number. He wasn't back yet, unless he ended the tour early. I waited as it rung and rung until it went to voicemail. I left a brief message with my name and number before hanging up.

I started to go for a night swim in the heated pool when the phone rang almost right after I hung it up. Ashley. Or Brace, I thought.

"Hello?"

"Hey." It was Brandon.

"Hey – I was going to call you." Was I? I had no idea what I was doing. I was breaking up. I was the aftermath. I felt like Daniel was a bomb that blew me up and these were the pieces left. I was not a whole person.

"Oh yeah?" Brandon said.

"Yeah...mom said you called."

"Yup." He paused and I was afraid we'd end up talking at the same time again. "How are you?" he finally asked.

"I'm good...tired..."

"Yeah, well...that makes sense." Wow, was he bragging? I could hear his cocky smirk

through the phone. "Listen, I have something to ask you – I got this thing...seminar to go to next week. It's in Florida – you wanna go with me?"

"Florida?" I hadn't been to Florida since I was a kid. I really was reliving 1986.

"Yup, The Sunshine State." He sounded happy but also a little impatient. "You wanna go?"

"When?"

"Next week. I gotta leave Sunday – might leave Saturday. We'll be staying at Sunshine Grand Hotel and Conference Center for a week. It's in Orlando. There's a pool, great restaurants. I'm going to be working but at night...I'll be free."

"Okay..." I felt my whole body go hot. Brandon made me excited and nervous. I wish I had some alcohol to drink in this apartment.

"Hey, if you don't wanna go it's fine. I'm just putting it out there." Now he sounded like a defensive little boy.

"No, I want to go – thank you for asking." I was not ready to go back to Chicago and I could feel my dad growing impatient with me staying here. "I haven't been to Florida in...I can't even remember." I had no idea what I would do after Florida. Maybe another distraction would arise. I could just leap from one distraction to the next.

"It's cool – the hotel is really nice and they put me up in it for free. Okay, fuck it, dude, let's go Saturday. I'll go ahead and get you the ticket." I felt a bit bullied into this but I wasn't going to turn down a free vacation.

"Okay, thank you."

I didn't even know what day today was. I looked over at the flower calendar my mom had hanging on the kitchen wall. The huge thumbtack tore a hole in the already flaking wallpaper. There was a flower to represent each month. December was a daffodil. I wondered what the rose was for October, the month I met Brace. I flipped ahead and saw it was a very pretty marigold.

54

"Okay mom, don't freak," I said as I started my big announcement over dinner that evening. I wanted my mom to be proud of me for something and I figured going on a trip with Brandon would do the trick. She looked up at me from the food she cooked that she didn't seem so crazy about. Dad glanced up at from the paper. No one was bothering with the stew.

"You didn't get another tattoo did you?" Mom sounded on the verge of tears.

"No," I assured her, although I couldn't stop thinking about that marigold flower and what a pretty tattoo it would make. "Brandon and I are going away together." I watched mom's eyes expand to a size I thought was impossible. "It'll be the first time we've gone on a trip without a teacher!" I guess I was more excited than I thought. I was also embarrassed by the sound of my squawking voice. At least it wasn't my embarrassing shrill of a laugh, which hadn't climbed the wall since I left Chicago.

"Oh Joey – this is great! Bill, get the camera," Mom ordered.

"What for?" Dad wondered.

"To take a picture of this moment – something is actually happening in Joey's life! She might get married after all."

"What? Whoa – no. No. Married? Mom – chill. It's just a trip to Florida. Rednecks do it all the time."

"Excuse me? We're not rednecks – you're not a redneck."

I kind of felt bad for offending mom. But married?

"Joey, you need to get married in your twenties – no one will want you in your thirties. You're either a mess with kids or a mess without kids by then."

"Okay mom." I'd rather eat her food than listen to her talk. We slowly bowed our heads and went back to finishing dinner.

55

Once, in fourth grade, Brandon and I were walking down the hallway of the school towards the exit door. It was a few days before we went to Stewartsville. The school day was over but I didn't want it to be because I didn't want to let go of his hand. It was in the middle of the afternoon when the sun poured in every window and exploded certain corners into a bright blur.

I remembered chaos erupting at the end of the hallway where we were going. The double doors had just opened and something flew in that sent everybody in a panic. Books flew from hands as everyone scrambled to get inside the nearest classroom.

"BAT!!!" Someone screamed. Holden Middle School was a big, old ten-story building in front of a forest. Seeing a bat every now and then wasn't a big surprise but we'd never seen one in the school before. I looked up and saw its disgusting thick wings flapping as it came right towards me. Brandon jumped in front of me and swatted a book at it. He took my hand and pulled me into Mrs. Abigal's room and kicked the door shut. It was the first heroic moment of my life.

After Stewartsville, Brandon was removed from school to be homeschooled. On my last day of school I went to Mrs. Abigal's classroom to say goodbye. She was busy cleaning her desk and seemed a little nervous like always.

"Yes?" she said as I stood there.

"Do you ever hear from Brandon?" I asked.

"No." She replied too quickly. I knew it was a lie. She looked down at her desk. Most of her things had been stored in a milk crate. She bent down, her hand on the edge of the desk as she dug through some books in the crate. She straightened up, pulling on her beige pencil skirt as she gave me the copy of The Mouse and the Motorcycle.

"I did see him. He came by...not too long after that trip. He wanted me to give you this," she said. I took the book. I knew it was the same copy he read to me from because there was a crease in the mouse's face. I opened it to see if he wrote anything but he hadn't.

As I tried to sleep before my trip with Brandon the next morning, that was all I could think about. The book, the bat, Brandon and Stewartsville. I had all these memories coming back to me now, all at once, like TVs piled on top of each other on different channels. Channel surfing Brandon.

Mom knocked on my door bright and early the next morning, right around the time I finally managed to fall asleep.

"Brandon's going to be here soon – don't you want to look all fresh-faced?"

I got up and rechecked to make sure I packed everything I would need. I opened my suitcase and looked down at the red lingerie Brace bought for me from The Pink Agency. Different emotions pulled and tugged on my heart.

"Joey?" Mom knocked on the door. "You okay?"

I opened the door to find her standing there with her hand on her hip.

"Did Dad get coffee?" I grumbled.

"No, he's not awake yet."

I thought he'd see me off at least. I reached down for my suitcase and carefully walked down the stairs in my platform shoes.

"Do we have any OJ?" I asked once I made it down the stairs in my grogginess.

"Yes..." she sauntered off into the kitchen. "Now you'll take it without champagne? Because we don't have any," she cracked. I couldn't deal with her judgmental cracks this early. I quietly walked into the kitchen and found a half-full carton of pulpy Florida Orange. I finished it before throwing it into the trash.

"You're welcome," Mom quipped. I knew she and dad wanted me to make things work out with Brandon, but that wasn't why I was doing this. I felt like I owed him something. I also still felt like I should be punished. I couldn't love Brace the way he deserved to be loved.

"Oh for goodness sake, brush your hair," Mom fussed. "You know, I'm so jealous." Wow, I was stunned. She wasn't even going to hide the fact that she was in love with Brandon. "When he called me ma'am the other day I just wanted to die."

"He was just being polite." I parted the curtains to look out at the parking lot. I saw his Nissan Truck make its way towards the apartment. The morning sun beat down on the roof, making it look white.

"Well...please make this work out, Joey."

"Make what work out?" I asked. "It's just a vacation." I was trying to convince myself of that.

"Oh let me brush your hair." Mom came at me with a brush of unkind bristles and I opened the door, escaping when I heard Brandon honk his horn.

"Call me when you get there! Let me know what room you're in!" Mom shouted from the door.

"Yup." I shut the door once I climbed into the truck. I was ready for a break from my parents. I looked over at Brandon. He was wearing a nice fitting t-shirt that showed off his tanned, muscular physique. I wanted to ask him if he went to a tanning salon because it was winter, but I was afraid that might offend him. I could stare at his shirt for the rest of my life and not figure out if it was blue or grey. There was a lot of that color in North Carolina. He had on new jeans and black boots. I loved that he didn't wear sandals even in the summer. Boys with boots and brown eyes was my thing apparently. I bet Brandon shopped at Holden Kings Mall. His hair was so long he had it up in a tiny ponytail and he hadn't bothered shaving. Brandon looked like a cross between Stephen Dorf and Kid Rock.

He took me in too. I had on a little black dress with a plunging neckline and my new platform shoes. My hair was very soft from last night's wash. The pink was barely hanging on...

"You look good." He said it like I passed a test or something. He leaned over and gave me a big wet kiss right there for Mom to see. His stubble scratched my face a little.

After the kiss I hung my head and took in his scent that stayed with me. It was a mix of new t-shirt smell and cologne.

"Ready for some fun?" he asked, brushing my cheek with his knuckles.

"Yeah...can we get some coffee first?" My subservience when it came to Brandon made me a little sick of myself.

"Sure," he shrugged and gave a quick goodbye wave to my mom before driving off.

Part 4

The Radio Doesn't Care About Us

56

Brandon slammed the door shut and handed me a tray with coffee cups and napkins. I hadn't noticed the little crosses for t's in the name Fresh Start until I saw the name stamped on the to-go cups.

"What's the crosses for?" I asked as Brandon headed away from Main Street and towards the interstate. I carefully took my latte out and took a sip.

"It's a Christian café," he said, like I should have known. "It's really cool – they take messed up kids, like kids that just got out of reform school or whatever, and give them jobs. Fresh Start."

"Oh, I just thought the name had to do with, like, a new morning."

"It does," Brandon said. No matter what the café stood for, the coffee was quite good.

We drove and listened to Phish for about two hours, until I couldn't take it anymore.

"Could we listen to something else?" I tried to be polite but I think I was just snappy.

He looked over at me and I tried to give him the sweetest smile possible.

"Uh, yeah..." he lazily pointed at the glove compartment. "Open that up, see if you like anything."

I was very curious to see what other CDs Brandon had. Please let it be something not Grateful Dead or Phish. I pulled out a stack of CDs.

"Soundgarden!" I exclaimed, once I got through a bunch of Widespread Panic and Grateful Dead discs. "Good boy." I kept fishing, grabbing stuff from the back. No female singers, no female nothing.

"Make sure you put those back in there, please. Don't leave them on the floor," he said in his sexy southern gruff.

"Do you have any Green Day?" I hoped.

"Nah." He made a face like the milk in his coffee was spoiled. I kept looking.

"Oh my god, Brandon! Oh my god!" I squealed when I discovered the Dee-Lite CD. "Seriously?" I couldn't stop laughing. So he did listen to female singers.

"Okay," he said, somewhere between amused and annoyed. "It makes me happy," he muttered. I decided to stop giving him a hard time. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand like he was trying to wipe his smile right off his face. I took out the Phish CD. It was hot because we'd been playing it for so long. I slipped in Deee-Lite and realized after about five minutes it was like eating too much candy too fast.

"I can't," I said, ejecting the CD. "I'm sorry." I started looking for something else but it was too early to figure out my mood.

"How 'bout the radio," Brandon decided. "The radio doesn't care about us."

I shrugged and he found some fuzzy FM station playing a Phil Collins song. Okay then. I picked up all the CDs from the floor and put them in the glove compartment much neater than they'd been placed before, and shut it. The silence between us after was depressing. Phil Collins wasn't really helping much.

Brandon drove a little over the speed limit as I tried to finish my coffee before it got cold. Things unspoken were very loud between us...

Brandon finally spoke about twenty minutes later. "Let me know when you get hungry – I didn't eat."

"Okay." I glanced over at him. He looked pensive. He pointed to a sign for a steakhouse. It was almost two pm and I was pretty hungry. He pulled off the highway onto the exit and drove kind of fast on the off-ramp. The truck leapt into the air when we hit a speed bump but Brandon didn't even blink.

I moved around in my seat in great discomfort as the song played out.

I wish I could just make you turn around/turn around and see me cry/there's so much I need to say to you/so many reasons why/you're the only one who really knew me at all

I was going to cry soon. This song made me think of Brace. I left him. I hurt him. It was like I reached up into the sky and snatched a beautiful bird down and ripped its wings right off.

Luckily we were at the steakhouse, pulling into the parking lot. The steakhouse looked really new. Muddy piles and construction sites surrounded it along with a banner nailed to some wooden boards flapping in the wind that read Hulksville Mall Coming Soon!!! We had so many hours left to go before we would be in Florida. So many trees and rest areas.

Brandon looked back at me and waited for me to catch up when we got out of his truck, and then put his arm around me. Even when something was bothering him it never got in the way of him being a southern gentleman. He reached for the door, letting me go first. The Stray Cats were playing on the enormous jukebox. I was just glad it wasn't Christmas music.

"Hello," the friendly brunette waitress greeted us, grabbing some huge laminated menus. The restaurant was clean with that just opened shine. There were about thirty taps at the bar. I quickly reviewed them and saw that had Wolf's Tooth.

"Upstairs or down?" she asked.

"Up," I said. She had a giant red bow in her hair, I guess for Christmas, and tight black pants. Brandon glanced down at her derrière as we made our way to the second floor. She had tickets sticking out of the back of her pants so they bounced along with everything else when she walked. She placed us at a roomy booth in the corner of the cozy upstairs room and took our drink order.

"Wolf's Tooth Ale," I happily ordered.

Brandon got a bottle of Budweiser. I looked at Brandon once the waitress pranced off. I was feeling very guilty about the music mishap in the truck.

"I'm sorry – you have the right to listen to anything you want – you're the one driving. And you're taking me on this trip and that's very nice."

He looked surprised. "How did you know that was what I was thinking about?"

"I think...we've always been able to read each other's minds."

"You do?" He didn't seem to think so. He wore his usual frown and looked out of the window. I couldn't stop touching my fork. I was nervous.

"When we was kids?" he suddenly asked, looking back at me. I looked into his eyes and he ran his hand through his hair. He still did the same thing he did when he was ten – mess with his hair until he was sure it was perfect. It was hard to think just a few weeks ago I had a boyfriend with ratty dreadlocks.

"Yes," I said again.

"So what was I thinking?" he broke his serious inquiry to smile at the waitress when she brought our beers over. Brandon was always a flirt.

"Thanks Jill," he said, reading her nametag.

"You're welcome!" the words shot out of her mouth in an enthusiastic southern drawl. "You two decide what you want to eat yet?" She took her ticket book in her hand and a pen in the other. "Just let me know if you need more time – don't mean to rush yall."

I hadn't reviewed the menu yet. There were big pictures of steak in case anyone didn't know what it looked like. There were also burgers and fries, the usual American food.

"It's fine." Brandon looked discouraged. He kept a finger over his left eyebrow as he read off his order. "I'll get the burger, fires, everything on it you have."

"Um, the same," I said. Brandon collected both of our menus and handed them over.

"Thank you," he said.

"You sure are welcome," she flirted back.

I took a long deep breath as she slipped her tickets into the back of her tight pants – the attention getter – and slowly pranced off. Brandon returned his bedroom gaze to me as he fished out a cigarette. Once he had his smoke, he slipped it between his incredibly white teeth and moved from side to side to search his back pockets for his lighter. How could someone look so cool doing something so simple?

"So, you never answered my question," he said, his words all muffled because of the smoke. I watched him light his smoke. Boys looked so sexy smoking. It was the lit cherry on top of their bad boyness.

"I was waiting for your little flirting session with the waitress to end."

"Ah, jealousy," his cocky smirk was brazenly unapologetic. "Jealousy leads to good sex." His face turned down in a thoughtful, almost menacing frown. Thunder should have cracked in the sky above when his eyes bent down and he smiled like that. "I can't wait for you to see the room."

I sipped my beer and was quiet for a minute. I was curious about how this trip would play out.

"Okay, the Phish thing," he said, looking up at me in brand new seriousness. "I listened to that CD a lot when my mom died – I'd just stay in my room and get stoned. It helped me get through shit."

"I didn't know your mom died, Brandon," I said, stunned. "I'm so sorry." Now I felt really terrible.

"No one lives forever, Joey." Again, thunder should have occurred. Why didn't my mom ever mention Brandon's mom passing? That should have been an important detail.

"Our parents are supposed to go first," Brandon darkly reminded. That's just...the natural order." I wondered if Brace's parents were still alive? Did they regret abandoning him at such a young age? Did he wonder about them? My heart ached so much when I thought of him I just had to turn it off. He was better off without me, in sunny California chasing his rock n roll dreams. I just knew he'd be famous one day.

Brandon suddenly waved a hand to tell me not to worry about it. "I'm fine now – so what kind of music do you like?" I wondered how his father was doing but decided not to ask. I also didn't ask how his mother passed.

"Um...Pearl Jam. Garbage...Guns N Roses, rock music."

He made a face like he didn't believe that either – like every word we said to each other was a losing battle.

"Rock music? You never liked that stuff back then." Then his voice rose a little with disbelief and excitement, "I'd bring my brother's tapes to school for them stupid trips and you hated them!" Most of them were aggressive rap songs, but I didn't feel like pointing that out.

"I know...but we change – or maybe our taste in music...as a little girl, a lot intimidated me."

"Hey Joey?" Now he seemed extremely invested in this talk. "You ever wonder if...our experiences make us like the music we like or if...the music we like causes us to have certain experiences?" he said. He sat up a little, putting his cigarette out in the ashtray as smoke trailed from his lips. "Like Kyle – he met his girl on the way to a concert," he licked his lips and jumped into the next set of words he was dying to say. "His life changed that night walkin' in the rain and he got this girl knocked up and everything changed. My mom died and my brother seemed more upset about gettin' her pregnant – not my mom, the girl – anyways, I was about to tear my hair out is what." He moved around in the booth a little, annoyed. "This past summer wudn't that good." He took a big gulp of his beer after that.

"Yeah." Finally, something we could agree on. Our summers sucked.

"So how is your brother?"

"Dumb," Brandon said, without any hesitance. "I was like I'm goin' to Florida so you have to watch after your own kid." After practically spitting fire, Brandon went back to smoking. He kept his eyes on me and I felt like I was being interrogated.

"After...Stewartsville," his tone darkened with each word now, "Me and Kyle would just do drugs and drink. He always had something to take my mind off stuff. Then mom got sick. And so...I was like doing more bad stuff. Thought I was gonna end up working at Fresh Start or something. Eventually one of us had to straighten up or who the fuck would look after his kid? So I took this stupid job at Solar Sun. I guess it's not that bad. I get a free membership at the gym."

I didn't know what to say. I was stunned he brought up Stewartsville.

"You know, you never answer my questions," he said after quite an intense silence.

"I'm sorry," I said, surprised by how upset he sounded.

"So what was I thinking about back when we was kids? Said you could read my mind."

"Um, well..." Maybe I wasn't so sure. Or maybe I didn't want to know. And maybe he knew this and wanted to point it out. "I know you hated that patchwork cap." I thought maybe he'd laugh but he didn't.

"I wore it 'cos it made my mom happy." His voice softened when he spoke of his mother, like he knew she was listening.

"I know..." I actually didn't know that.

"You don't know anything," he shot back. His tone was heavy with animosity. We were not going to make it through this trip.

"I know things got rough...I know why they really pulled you out of school. I'm sorry. What I did was dumb and heartless."

His eyes were empty. They were like dry stones. "We'z just kids," he picked up his beer and stared me down. "It's over now."

But it wasn't. Nothing was ever over. There was time and memory until death.

What to say. I didn't know what to say. He sat back and put his cigarette back in his mouth to use up the rest of its worth.

"I just know...it's this dark cloud that follows us around...Stewartsville..."

"You don't know shit and I don't wanna talk about it." His eyes were tight, dark lines of brown as he sucked hard on his cigarette. I was stunned by his tone. I just sat there and drank my beer and wondered why he really invited me on this trip...

"Ain't no dark cloud..." Brandon eventually muttered, "Maybe it's just a dark sky." He seemed to snap out of it and looked at me, smiling again. "Hey – did you know I was in a band once?" His smile didn't pull the darkness from his eyes. I smiled anyway.

"No, Brandon, I didn't know that."

"Hey, you know maybe...maybe you'd like Widespread Panic – have you ever listened to them?"

"No." I always tried to avoid all that hippy stuff. "I'll give it a shot." Anything to keep the dog from biting.

"How about you listen to that and then we can listen to something you like – I can stop and buy you a CD." He cheered up.

"That's sweet," I said. "But you don't have to."

57

I never became a Widespread Panic fan on the way to Florida but Brandon and I both agreed that Pearl Jam's Vs. was a decent follow up to Ten. He broke the speed limit multiple times but never got pulled over. He had a keen eye for unmarked cop cars.

"You get good at that shit," he bragged whenever he spotted a cop along the interstate and impressively slowed down just in time. His hands were on the wheel, with one holding a cigarette between his fingers. Smoke filled the car up so I cracked the window.

Brandon – he drove like he fucked. As soon as the cop car subtly but creepily placed in a shady spot on the side of the road was behind us, Brandon sped up again. It was rocky and moody and it made the old, cold coffee in the Fresh Start cups spill all over the place.

"Hey?" he called out, smiling just a little. I watched his Adams apple move back and forth. "You still get motion sickness?"

"Some, but I have some pills."

"Good," he said, and with that he sped up even more.

The Sunshine Grand was huge with a swimming pool out front with a waterfall pouring into it. The ten-story hotel glistened white. The rooms were very basic so I wasn't sure what Brandon meant when he said he couldn't wait for me to see the room. The furniture took up nearly all the space in the room. I had to carefully plan my trip to the bathroom so I wouldn't run into the huge dresser the TV set on. The office desk and big bed took up the rest of the space. At least there was the balcony, which honestly had more space to move around than the room. I didn't complain though – the beach was just a nice walk away and there was an indoor and outdoor pool.

I opened the door to the balcony and a nice warm breeze swept in. You would never know it was December here. Brandon had already opened a beer and was lying on the bed in his Sunday clothes on a Saturday night. His eye caught me as I turned around. I knew what that look meant.

"That's a cute dress," he winked. "The whole drive I was trying to keep my dick still." That smile that made my heart melt at ten showed itself.

"Thank you..." I had no idea what I was thanking him for, his compliments were always a bit crude. I stood very still, mostly because there wasn't any room in the cramped hotel room to move. I smirked when I thought about telling him about the lingerie in my suitcase – but I decided to make him wait for that.

"Well come the fuck over here," he called out. "What you teasin me for?"

I turned around so he could have a good, long look at my bottom. I looked over my shoulder at him. He shamelessly put his hand on himself and I could see it growing. It was time to have some fun in Sunshine Grand. I picked up the remote control and then pretended to drop it. Maybe I was just hesitant.

"Oh no," I said, bending over to pick it up. Then I was suddenly pulled back, his arms so strong my entire body lifted from the floor. I landed up his lap, sank into him, as he started touching me.

"Brandon..."

He chuckled, pleased at me saying his name.

58

Monday morning came and I woke up to Brandon buttoning up a burgundy dress shirt and a nice pair of black trousers. The room smelled fresh of shaving cream and coffee.

The sky was taken by bluish grey clouds (the color of Brandon's shirts, the color of almost everything in Holden, North Carolina) and rain was in the forecast.

"You have to go?" I asked.

"Yeah, big stupid convention downstairs. Listen – you have money?" The question was a bit odd. I didn't know how to answer it. "I'm gonna be gone until seven." He turned back around and sat down on the bed. "I don't want you to be stuck up here and bored and stuff."

"I'll be fine, Brandon." I still had a little left over from my big win at that pool game, but it was starting to dwindle.

"Okay..." Brandon sounded like he wanted to say something else. Or do something. I couldn't get over his businessman attire. He looked at me as he sipped his coffee and kept his other hand on his hip.

"Turn over, face-down on the bed." The demand was sudden, stark.

I was still tired from last night, but I rolled over like he said to do. I heard the slight thump of his coffee mug as he placed it down on the round glass table.

I felt his smooth hand run up the back of my leg to the back of my knee. "People always forget to look at the back of their lover's knee," he said. It was an odd thing to say but I appreciated it. Then his hand left me altogether before giving me a crazy good hard pop on my bottom.

"To remind you to be a good girl while I'm gone or you'll get more of that later."

59

I went for a swim, lounged around the room and watched TV. I had a drink at the hotel bar and went upstairs to get ready so when Brandon walked into the room, I'd be nice and clean with my fancy lingerie on.

When Brandon finally came through the door, opening it rather sluggishly, he had a drink in his hand. I guess he took the glass of scotch up from the bar. His nicely pressed shirt was hanging out of his trousers and he smelled of booze and failure. He seemed to have unwound with the day. He ran into the lamp as he tried to get to the mini bar. The lamp wobbled, making everything feel as if it were happening in slow motion. Brandon stood still and the lamp managed to not fall over. He was so wasted. Oh my god, I had my own little Mad Men man. He reached for a beer in the fridge and turned around and finally saw my curvy body tightly wrapped in the sexy lingerie.

"Oh my god..." he muttered. I turned around so my ass had the spotlight. "You're like a nice piece of fresh fruit in a tight plastic bag," he said. I turned and gazed out at the grey sky. Little neon lights were starting to glow as daylight faded. I felt him come over – his energy was all around me now. I felt a little scared and a little curious – just like I did when I was little and the bat flew into our elementary school. He pressed his drunk, hard self into me. He was kind of pissed off from a bad day of work and seemed like he wanted to take it out on me. His arm hooked around my neck so when he brought his beer up to his mouth to drink it, he was practically choking me.

"I am...so glad...I brought you with me on this trip," he said. Then just like that, he let his beer bottle fall from his hand. It almost slammed on my toe. I felt the solid threat of his cock against my soft bottom. I felt his warm, firm hand on my thighs before he put it across my lips. He pushed me against the sliding glass door to the balcony and I stared at some shrieks left behind by housekeeping.

"Open that sweet mouth." His voice was low and hoarse, all his evil energy swarming there. I parted my lips and he put his finger in my mouth.

"You have any idea what you do to me?" he said.

"I think I do..."

"No you don't, tonight you're going to get the fuck of your life."

"Bran...don..."

He wrapped his arm around my waist and pushed me down on the bed. He pushed the material between my legs over and played with my pussy and put one of his fingers back in my mouth. I got it now – he was very dissatisfied with his job and very pissed at me. And all of that anger was being directed at me right now. Was there anything Brandon liked about his life? He didn't like his job, his mom recently died, and he had to take care of his brother's kid. I take it there wasn't much that made him happy.

He started toying with my asshole. He came down over me and kissed me on the face. He already had stubble since his morning shave.

I felt something slimy and a little cold squirt onto my bottom. Then I saw the bottle of lube as Brandon placed it back on the bedside table next to his beer. He worked a finger up into my asshole.

"Oh!" I bit the pillow and was relieved when he removed his hand to undo his jeans. "Oh, Brandon..." I started to move about.

"Stay still," he told me. "Can I fuck you there?" he touched my asshole again, this time only slipping his finger inside of it halfway. I would never get used to how brash and direct Brandon was with me.

"I..." I pressed my hot face against the pillow. I bit on the pillowcase as his finger got very intrusive. "Ah...."

"Oh god...yeah...yes..." he sighed as he checked me out, his cock swelling against my thigh. He had to try a few times but soon he managed to work his cock all the way up inside my asshole. The wet wad of pillow I was constantly biting on became my best friend, the thing I could use to deal with my pain. I chewed on it like a dog as he slid two fingers up inside of my pussy and then he took his free hand and slipped two fingers into my mouth so all of my holes were full with him. I wanted to bite the pillow but no longer could.

"Don't bite," he warned when I almost bit his fingers. I wanted to be able to bite on something – anything – but I kept myself from doing so. My face was against the damp spot of the pillow I'd been biting. I shut my eyes as he dug into me, widening that hole that was not really meant for this. He toyed with my pussy and it was a little pleasurable but nothing compared to the pain he was inflicting.

"Suck," he instructed, wanting me to blanket his fingers with my tongue. I tried to focus but the pain was excruciating. I bet my face was the same color of red as my lingerie. I fought back from biting him. I sucked his fingers and he wiggled his other fingers inside of me as he drew his cock out a little just to force it back in. I thought maybe the pain wouldn't be as bad but it only got worse the next few times he thrust.

"Keep sucking," he told me.

"Mmmph – PHMMM!" I started wiggling about, experiencing a pleasurable sensation in my pussy from him fingering me, but it wasn't enough to cancel out the pain of him ripping my asshole apart. The pleasure was like a wave hitting the rock that was pain, and the wave just got destroyed. He was going at me so hard I was about to cry when the pleasure I was getting from his other hand took over again. Each sigh he gave was a little thicker and when he finally came he fell over me, his fist sliding across the pillow so it pounded against the headboard. That second where I started to feel like I might orgasm just died in the small, dark room.

60

"Want some chicken fingers?" Brandon asked, looking through the Sunshine Grand Hotel room service options. Its pages were big and glossy and made a sticky sound every time he checked out the next page.

We were lying in bed after the crazy sex. I was tired but he was wide awake and talkative, his cigarette smoke filling the air. He was lying on his back. The TV was on a late night talk show and the volume was too low to really hear anything. The guest looked pretty and smiled a lot. The host always looked like he already knew what the guest was about to say.

"Sun Revolt," Brandon suddenly said. What was that? It didn't sound like food.

"What?" I said, exhausted.

He reached over to where the ashtray was between the lube and some beer bottles, and flicked his cigarette.

"My band – it was called Sun Revolt."

"How old were you?" I asked, delighted he was finally opening up about something.

"Fifteen."

"Wow."

"Yeah." His response was vague but his tone was dreamy.

"I wish I would have been around you then. It's so crazy that we lived in the same town but we only saw each other when we were ten."

"I'm sorry." He sounded very, very sorry. Why was he sorry? "I think I saw you once at the mall."

"Why didn't you come over?"

He shrugged. "Hey?" he wrapped his arms around me and forgot about the menu, letting it fall to the floor. The thud it made was heavy yet hollow. "It's the past; all you can do with the past is say sorry over and over. It's dumb, let's forget about it." He hugged me, finally showing some affection outside of sex.

61

The next morning I woke up to Brandon getting dressed again in all perfectly pressed clothes. Nothing was out of place, not even a hair on his head. That same mixed smell of peppermint and coffee hung in the air. Did he and Brace use the same aftershave? That might have been the only thing they had in common...besides both being haunted by something.

"You always dressed nice – even when you were a kid," I sleepily admired Brandon from the bed. "The other boys would show up in whatever, looking like they just wanted to get back in bed – but you...you were always dashing." I waited for him to respond but he didn't. He didn't say anything; he just studied himself in the mirror like Patrick Bateman. Never one to like being ignored, I threw a pillow at him which turned into a complete disaster. It was weird how certain mishaps seemed to occur in slow motion. I watched the pillow as it went on its slow path of destruction. It traveled through the air innocently for a few seconds before it hit Brandon in the head, messing up his perfect hair. I caught the very second when his face folded into a hard frown. Then the pillow fell on the table and knocked over last night's warm flat beer and then the beer spilled across some papers on the table that looked very important.

"Shit!" Brandon snatched up the papers and beer dripped from them onto the floor and all over his tanned trousers, which I hated – I hated those trousers. He marched into the bathroom where he cursed some more. I just sat there, feeling really dumb for what I'd done. It was crazy how many bad things had happened in my life but I just wanted to take back the minute I threw the pillow.

"Why did you do that?!" he shouted from the bathroom, absolutely enraged.

"I was just...trying to get your attention." I shut my eyes in regret. I heard him come out of the bathroom and my body tensed up.

"Yeah – good job! You have my attention but trust me – this is not the kind of attention you want from me." His eyes flashed all sorts of warning signs. He'd fixed his hair and his trousers had a big wet spot on them.

"What is that? Some kind of threat?" I guess I shouldn't have been that surprised, Brandon was a ticking time bomb I felt drop in my lap ever since we left Holden.

He waved the wet papers around in the air. "You know what this is – or WAS?! I was supposed to do this presentation this morning on Solar Sun's next generation hardware and solar technology – this was what I was supposed to read in front of the entire company this morning and now it's ruined...you ruined The Future! The future presentation."

The phone in the room rang, interrupting his speech. We both stared at it like we didn't know what it was.

"Can you answer that? Or do you have more pillows to throw today?" He marched back into the bathroom.

I picked up the black phone by the bed. "Hello?"

"Hello?" An angry female's voice shot right back at me. "Who is this?" This was the voice of a jealous female, no doubt. There was nothing more ferocious. "I want to speak to Brandon," she demanded.

"Who is this?" I bravely asked.

"It's Allison – who is this?!"

It couldn't be the Allison, not the Allison from fourth grade. I looked up at Brandon as he walked back out into the room. He didn't seem to care who was on the phone so I just hung it up. He went over to the table where that awful disaster occurred. He picked the pillow up and threw it on the bed without much gusto.

"Don't you have an extra copy?" I just said. "Something that important...seems like you would..."

"No, I don't." He didn't sound as upset now and his hair was all fixed again.

"It's still legible," he mumbled.

Allison Bree. Allison from fourth grade. There was no way he had something going on with her. Then again, they had known each other for a long time. Holden was a small town – everyone knew each other to the point where dating anybody seemed incestuous. I had no idea what he did after he was taken out of school.

"I'm sorry," Brandon said, calming down as he picked up his briefcase. He muttered something I couldn't make out, something that involved the word stupid. "I didn't mean to lose my temper like that – just under a lot of stress – my brother – it's always about my brother." He looked at me with those brown eyes of his. "Was that him on the phone?"

What to say. "No – I don't think so. They hung up." That was not a lie. They hung up eventually – after I did, but still.

"I'm sorry, Brandon." I wasn't apologizing about the pillow though. We both knew what I was apologizing about.

"Okay..." he glanced down at his briefcase. It seemed too heavy for him all of the sudden. He didn't look like he was representing a company. He looked like a disgruntled unemployed bum about to go to a job interview for a job he didn't even want. He took a deep breath. "Meet me tonight at the bar," he said before he walked out of the room.

It was quite a ways through the woods to the church and cemetery. We left the bus some time ago and were halfway there when Mrs. Abigal allowed a break. A sign that read Stewartsville Church was decayed by years of hard rain and nailed to a tree. Allison sat on a tree stomp and tied her shoes. Brandon took The Mouse and the Motorcycle out of his backpack and started reading to me.

"Next Keith opened his suitcase and took out an apple," Brandon read. "And several small cars – a sedan, a sports car, and an ambulance about six inches long, and a red motorcycle half the length of the cars, which he dropped on the striped bedspread before he bit into the apple. He ate the apple noisily in big chomping bites." Brandon reached into his paper bag lunch and took a bite out of his own apple to demonstrate. "Then laid the core on the bedside table between the lamp and the telephone." Brandon paused to swallow then kept reading. "Keith began to play, running his cars up and down the bedspread, pretending that the stripes on the spread were highways and making noises with his mouth-vroom vroom for the sports car, wh-e-e wh-e-e for the ambulance and pb-pb- b-b-b for the motorcycle," he looked at me and did the awesome sound again, "Pbbbbb-ppppp-b-b-b." Apple-flavored spit flew from Brandon's lips. I laughed and forgot that I was in the woods on my way to a creepy cemetery for stone rubbing. I wanted to stay there and have him keep reading to me but Allison stood up, announcing her shoes were tied and we should all carry on.

As we walked on through the woods nearing the clearing, my hatred towards Allison intensified. She kept looking back at me, aiming her blue eyes at me and snarled like she was happy she just ruined the time I had with Brandon on our little break.

Once we got to the tombstones, Mrs. Abigal handed out sheets of construction paper and crayons.

"Okay, now pick a gravestone and I'll show you how to do stone rubbing."

I didn't want to do this. It just seemed weird. I held onto my construction paper and looked at Brandon. To him it didn't seem like a big deal. He picked out a random grave and got down on his knees. I watched as the soft mud gave into him as his knees sank into the earth. That night I would have a nightmare about the ground eating Brandon whole. Everyone else went off to a gravestone and started rubbing the deceased person's name along with the dates depicting how long they lived. Everyone did it with such oblivion, not realizing this was a person who wanted to live longer than they did and were now just a pile of bones right beneath their knees and stupid crayons.

"Joey," Mrs. Abigal said my name. "Let's go."

I looked around but just didn't want to do this. I didn't understand the point and it just felt disrespectful for some reason.

"Why'd the kids die?" I asked, referring to the ten kids that grew ill one Tuesday morning at the school nearby. She just looked at me.

"Joey, just do the assignment," she said. "It's going to rain soon."

I walked around aimlessly, eventually picking a gravestone. I whispered, "Sorry Mr. Pete Contann...worth..." and felt the soft ground sink as I started to do the stone rubbing. Pete only lived for twenty-five years. As I began rubbing his name into the paper, I got this idea I thought was amusing. At the time it just seemed funny. Instead of rubbing the crayon across the man's name, I wrote Allison Bree. Then I wrote 1976 – 1986 at the bottom.

I carried my stone rubbing to the church when it was time to wrap up the field trip. We would eat our lunch and pack up our work and go back to the bus. This stupid day would finally be over.

Brandon slowly caught up to me, messing up the singe-file line we were supposed to be in because he wanted to walk next to me and hold my hand.

"No, Brandon," Mrs. Abigal called out. "Must stay in line."

"Oh no!" Allison squealed. "Looks like you'll have to get a divorce!" Usually I would look back at her and say something smart or give her a stony stare, but I waited until the moment I decided to give her the stone rubbing instead.

The old church-school was creepy, with five long wooden benches and a Big Ben clock.

"Come on," Brandon called for me when I didn't go straight over to him like I usually did. Everyone had their stone rubbing out so Mrs. Abigal could see as she roamed about. I dropped mine off in front of Allison when she was busy talking to her friends. Then I went over and sat right next to Brandon and started eating.

Everyone was quietly enjoying their lunch when a sobbing occurred from near the giant clock. I looked up and saw Allison covering her face with her hands.

"Allison?" Mrs. Abigal worriedly called out as she walked over to her. Mrs. Abigal stared down in confusion at the stone rubbing before holding it up at everyone. There was a unified gasp before Mrs. Abigal snapped, "Who did this!"

Her anger surprised me. I also hadn't expected Allison to cry so hard. I thought she'd say something nasty to me and forget about it. It was just a funny joke.

I tensed up as Mrs. Abigal came walking down the aisle between the old wooden benches. Her kitten heels hammered against the floor. Brandon looked at me. He knew I did it.

"Where's your stone rubbing?" he whispered. His pretty brown eyes were wide with confusion. I just shrugged. I couldn't swallow and my appetite was gone. He slowly pushed his stone rubbing over so it was in front of me and Mrs. Abigal stared down at him.

"Brandon?" she spoke. "Was it you?" She guessed it was since he had nothing in front of him.

Everything was so quiet. Brandon slowly looked up at her. "Yes," he said, rather meek.

"Get up," Mrs. Abigal snapped stretching her arm so quickly to point at the door I heard her arm pop. "Go to the bus and wait by yourself."

I couldn't believe it. I just watched him as he got up and took his backpack. I knew I should have said something but I just sat there in front of his stone rubbing, which he'd done a great job with. He picked a little girl who only lived for twelve years. He'd sweetly drawn a bunny rabbit in front of her grave. I would never know if he'd really seen a bunny or just made one up for the drawing.

"Joey," Mrs. Abigal sounded amazed when she saw my drawing. "Nice job." Mrs. Abigal finished reviewing everyone's work. She spoke to Allison and managed to calm her down before ripping my stone rubbing to bits and throwing it in the trash. Allison kept looking over at me until we were instructed to get in line for our walk back through the woods and to the bus. The walk felt like the longest I ever took. The sticks crunched loudly under everyone's feet and it began to drizzle when we were steps away from the bus. The rain made the most subtle sound when it hit the tree leaves above. Brandon was not on the bus when we returned and neither was the bus driver.

"That's odd," Mrs. Abigal said of the two missing as everyone took their seats. Mrs. Abigal looked back outside. I could tell she didn't want to go back out in the rain. She stood there for about five minutes, pursed her lips and kept checking her watch. She would tug on the long sleeve of her buttoned-down shirt after each time she checked the time. She would look out of the window but there was still no sign of Brandon or the thirty-something bus driver. Fifteen minutes had gone by. Where were they? The raindrops were getting fatter as they collected on the windows.

"Okay, everyone please remain seated – I'll be right back." Mrs. Abigal walked down the big steps of the bus and back into the woods. She was gone for about ten minutes. When she emerged, Brandon and the bus driver followed her. A stillness took over the bus. Everyone watched the three of them as they climbed onto the bus but no one spoke. Brandon sat down in the seat in front of me by himself. He looked shocked about something. The driver got behind the wheel and started the bus up.

I leaned forward and asked Brandon, "Where did you go?"

I didn't think he was ever going to answer. He eventually said, "Had to pee." His voice was barely above a whisper.

The phone in the hotel room snatched me away from the memory, making me jump so my arm hit the bedside table and knocked over a beer bottle. I picked it up, unnerved.

"Hello?" I answered, dreading the next second because I figured it was Allison calling back.

"Joey?" It was my mom. "Why haven't you called me? How is everything going?"

"Um..." I pressed my hand to my head. I was dehydrated and my head was starting to pound to remind me. The smell of stale beer took over the room again. "Fine," I just said.

"Had to ask the woman at the desk for your room."

"Mom...I'm sorry." I hoped she wouldn't give me a hard time.

"Well listen, I'm just calling because some guy named Brace called here. He was very, well, sweet. He said he wanted to make sure you were okay and he said...oh what else did he say..." She tried to recall. My heart was so heavy I could feel it in my throat. "Oh, right, he said he found Riley. I don't know what that means but he said you would." She waited for me to say something. "Joey?"

The tears filled my eyes and left them almost right after, falling down my cheeks. I held the phone down against my chest so mom couldn't hear me crying. I was so happy. I was so sad and so happy. I wanted Brace to be happy and maybe now he would be.

I heard my mom call so loudly, her voice vibrated against my chest. "Are you still there?"

I brought the phone back up to my face.

"Yes, I'm here."

"Do you want his number? He really wanted me to give it to you."

I tried to swallow over the big lump of regret in my throat. More tears rolled down my cheeks.

"Did you tell him where I was?"

"I told him you went to Florida," Mom confirmed.

"That's all?"

"Yes, Joey, what's going on?" She honestly thought I'd tell her the long story right now.

"Nothing, can I have his number?"

"Yes." She waited a minute and I thought she was going to pressure me to tell her something but then she just gave me the number with a California area code.

"Thank you," I said.

"Are you still coming back Friday?" she asked.

"Yeah...probably. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay sweetheart. Your dad says hi."

"Okay. Bye."

A lot of time slipped by with me just sitting on the bed, thinking and hesitating. Shadows climbed the wall and ate up the sun. Brandon had not come back yet. I dialed half of Brace's number over and over before I finally managed to dial the entire thing. If Brace didn't answer on the first three rings, I would hang up.

"Hello?" His voice. God, I had missed his voice. "Hello?" he sounded so calm and patient. "Joey?" He sounded like he'd been waiting by the phone all day for me to call.

"Hey." I was trying not to cry.

"Baby – baby, how are you?" He was smiling. I missed his smile so much.

"I'm okay. You found Riley?"

"Yeah," he sounded on the verge of laughing. "I did – he was at the fucking show! Oh Joey, I'm so happy – are you okay? Are you happy?"

"I'm okay...Brace...I messed up." I didn't know how to say it. I just started crying harder.

"Hey? Calm down, it's okay." He waited but I was still sobbing. "Please don't cry – I can't hold you – please don't cry."

I tried to calm down, but the thought of him holding me really got to me.

"Brace...sweet boy."

"It's okay, baby." Now he sounded like he was crying. "I care about you – that won't change. Everything's okay." He sounded so hopeful and patient.

"No...it's not..."

"What do you mean?" he waited, his cheerful voice sinking a bit. I couldn't say it. I didn't know what to say.

"What do you want, Joey?" he asked after several long, quiet moments. He didn't sound angry, just curious and concerned.

"I don't know." I cried but I didn't really sound like I was crying anymore. My face was soaked though. Please don't hang up, I kept thinking. No one ever asked me what I wanted, ever, until just then.

"It's okay," he eventually said in a nurturing, all-is-forgiven tone. "I love you." He waited and then he said, "Come to California."

I still didn't say anything. The phone was wet from my tears. I heard the door open and saw Brandon standing there, his shirt no longer tucked in his pants and a drink in his hand. He was like a repeat of yesterday.

"Joey?" Brace called out. "Whatever it is...you should forgive yourself for it. Come to California."

"I don't know..." I wiped my tears and ignored the look Brandon was giving me. "Brace..."

"Say yes – just say it."

"Yes," I said, starting to smile just a little. "Yes."

The End

