18+ | Eva French relocates from sunny Florida to the gritty streets of Detroit, seeking a fresh start. But her new beginning takes a dark turn when she experiences a traumatic assault on her very first night in the city. Haunted by the incident, Eva...
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Vince Matthews
Fucking girls was easy. It was like a routine by now: they'd call, I'd answer, we'd do our thing. Although I found myself detached and heartless, they'd always come back for more.
I could never figure out why because I would make it clear to them that a relationship was the last thing I wanted. Drunk by dick, Aidan would always joke with me when we'd talk about things like this. I'm not sure if he was right. I was sure there were plenty of guys around—like Jay—who would love to fuck but would also welcome a meaningful relationship.
So my conclusion was that women were stupid. They liked being treated badly. For whatever reason, being fucked and then discarded made them more desperate. I would think of my Mother in these moments with intense disdain, remembering all the times she had sobbed on the floor, clinging on to the legs of her boyfriends, begging them not to leave, all while they yelled and kicked at her. As a child, I'd listen to her rant after they left, her face red and eyes puffy. I'm never going back to him, she'd tell me. He's not stepping a damn foot in this house ever again.
I remember the first time she had told me that—so indignant and sure—I had been so proud of her. I was so happy to hear that the mean man would not be allowed to return.
But then she would let them in a few days later. I would watch with confusion and anger as she greeted them with kisses, cooked them dinner, and then gave them a massage on the couch while they watched TV with a beer in hand.
She never gave me that many kisses. My dinners were always microwavable meals that she'd plop in front of me. I rarely felt the motherly touch that other kids seemed to know so well.
I soon learned to drown her out. I drowned out her tears when she'd cry and beg them not to leave and then I'd drown out her vindictive voice as she ranted to me about how much she hated them, using her own kid as her personal therapist. I never learned how to drown out the anger I felt towards her when she repeated the cycle and let them back, though. I let myself feel that. I let myself stew in the hate and disgust that I felt towards her.
6 year old me concluded it was because I always yearned for her attention and love. Women would scorn men who wanted them, yet chased the ones who used them. Women were stupid. My Mother was the first one to teach me that.
This girl was not stupid. I could tell from her eyes and the way she held herself.
She was not stupid, that much was clear. But she was hard to read beyond that. Anytime she was spoken to, she would clam up, avoiding eye contact like a damn landmine. Jay and Aidan's attempts at flirtatious banter bounced off her like rain on a window. Her demeanor was notably passive and shy, which in my view, bordered on the pathetic.
I've always leaned towards confident women. Those who require extra maintenance and effort to earn their trust never piqued my interest. It was evident she fell into the latter category, yet I found myself both perplexed and intrigued. There was a gentle innocence veiled in her movements and expressions that struck me as unfamiliar and interesting.
