Josie
Sunday morning comes too quickly, and Trey disrupts the little sleep I managed by calling and saying he's on the way.
I feel guilty, as I pull my tired body out of bed, that I don't want to see him.
The last forty-eight hours have been eventful to say the least. I don't want to make them more eventful by sparking an argument with my boyfriend.
I throw my hair into a messy knot on top of my head and stand in front of the bathroom mirror, removing the traces of last night's makeup.
As weird as it sounds, I feel like a different person. I know that's ridiculous, but I did something out of my comfort zone and agreed to a deal that I know will upset my family.
If they find out...
I groan as I dip down to spit out the toothpaste.
They'll find out. It's only a matter of time.
Maybe, though, just today I can sweep it under the rug a little longer.
"Hey, baby." Trey enters the apartment an hour later. He hands me the chai tea latte I requested and shoots me the smile that never quite reaches his eyes. "You look tired."
"I am."
I manage a meek grin, but it's the last thing I'm feeling. What has telling someone they look tired ever accomplished? Like, thanks. Now I'm tired and insecure about my appearance.
"How has your weekend been? Have you just been hanging out here?"
"I hung out with Livi some." I also sang on stage, agreed to do it again the next night with a stranger and said yes to a record deal.
"Hung out with Livi? Did you drink?"
I sip my latte, cultivating the right answer. His pale blue eyes await my response, and he rakes a hand through his perfectly styled blonde hair. I guess since I'm avoiding everything else, the least I can do is tell him the truth about this.
"Yes. I had a couple drinks."
"Great. I'm back at school working my ass off and you're partying."
"It's not like that." I set my drink down on the kitchen counter, trying to keep my voice down since I'm sure Livi is still sound asleep. "I never go do anything with Livi. She's my best friend. You weren't here and I wanted one night."
"Oh, I wasn't here." He laughs, but not like anything is funny. "So if I'm not here you get a free pass to do whatever you want?"
"That's not what I said."
"That's what you implied. Fine, then, Josie. When you're not around, I guess I'll get a free pass, too. Wonder what I could do with that?"
Any guilt I felt about keeping information from him slowly fades away. If he can't handle me having a couple drinks with my friend, he's not ready to handle me pursuing one of my dreams.
"You go out with your friends." I point out, "Am I supposed to believe you never drink?"
"You're a girl! Do you know how dangerous that is for a woman? Not to mention the guys that would kill to be with you."
"What about the girls who try to get with you?" I counter, not sure why I'm even arguing. I'm not in the mood for disagreement, but I'm also tired of always being dismissed and talked over like I'm a child.
"This isn't about me, Josaleigh. This is about you doing something you knew would make me upset."
"Okay." I close my eyes as I exhale. "Trey, I had a couple drinks with my best friend. For the second time in my three years of college. I think I have a pretty good track record. Can we drop this, please?"
"Whatever."
I can feel the frustration coming from him as he walks past me to my room, knowing I'll follow.
I always follow.
Thankfully once in my room, the topic is dropped. It's not resolved by any means, but I'll take putting it on hold for now.
We spend the rest of the day studying, only taking a break to go into town and grab salads for lunch.
By the time the sun is near setting, Trey's mood, and mine, has improved significantly. I feel a lot more relaxed.
I know a tough conversation looms overhead, but I'm letting myself make the most of this day.
"Hey, babe." He nuzzles into my neck, running a hand under my shirt and over my stomach. "Before I leave, let's mess around."
I meet his kisses. He rolls himself on top of me, and I know that next he'll start kissing my neck, then tug at my waistband.
We have a routine. There isn't anything wrong with that.
We've been together for five years, and it didn't take us long to start having sex since we'd known each other forever. We've been doing this since we were teenagers.
That's what happens when people are together a long time.
You get into a routine that works.
That's okay.
It's fine.
It just seems like you're lacking passion. Hudson's voice pops into my head, and I push it out.
We're not lacking passion.
Maybe I just need to remind myself of that. Maybe just today I need more.
Instead of letting our usual pattern occur, I flip myself on top of Trey. I guess the last couple of days has me feeling bold, because I lean down to his ear and whisper.
"I've missed you this weekend. Did you miss me?" I kiss along his jaw while running my hands over his chest. "I want you. Show me how much you missed me."
"Whoa, babe." His hands cup my face, leaning back to look at me. "What's gotten into you?"
"I want to change it up." I sit up to straddle him, running my hands up under his shirt.
"Okay, okay." Trey gets up, pushing me off of him in the process. My butt hits the mattress with a bounce. "I'm sorry, but..." He laughs, "You're kind of acting like a slut."
I warm with embarrassment as he looks at me like I'm deranged.
Passion. The all-consuming, we were made for each other, I need every single piece of you type of passion. You and your boyfriend don't have that?
"You're my boyfriend. We're supposed to act like that for each other."
"If I wanted a slut to be my girlfriend, I'd be dating one of the girl's who throw themselves at me at school."
I cringe at the reminder that he's at his own school doing whatever he wants, while I'm not supposed to do anything at all if I don't run it by him first.
Everyone needs passion. Someone who drives you crazy. Someone who makes you lose your mind a little bit. Someone you can barely keep your hands off of.
"It's fine. Let's just watch a movie." I mumble, ready for the moment to pass.
I wish Hudson's words would quit echoing in my head. He doesn't know what he's talking about.
"I'm actually going to go." Trey says, leaning in for a kiss. "You need rest, babe. You've been off this weekend."
"Yeah."
I walk him to the door and kiss him goodbye, wondering how only two days has opened my eyes so much.
I've never had sex with anyone other than Trey. I know he has with a couple other girls before we were together. I wonder what they were like in bed?
I sulk into the bathroom. I need to shower and get this weekend off of my skin.
Still, I can't get Hudson's words out of my head. I wonder what kind of girl he likes? I bet he knows what he's doing in bed.
I step into the hot shower, sighing when the water hits my hard nipples. I shouldn't be so turned on. Shouldn't be, but I am. I can't even focus on how wrong it is, because my body aches for release.
I close my eyes, rubbing the soapy loofa over my breasts, down my stomach and between my thighs.
I keep trying to envision Trey in here with me, giving in to all the things I want to try. Letting me explore his body. Telling me I can be as wild as I want.
But when I hit the spot that's begging for attention, all I can picture are tattooed arms, dark hair, sharp features and green eyes piercing me right down to my core.
I shoot my eyes open, sucking in a breath. I can't think about him like that.
No. It's wrong.
I let the hot water cascade down my body, sticking my head under the shower.
Does Trey make you blush like that?
No.
I drop my head against the tile, giving in and touching myself the way I crave to be touched.
I need you, Josie. Can you do this?
The heat, the quick circles I'm making, the rocking of my hips.
See you out there, princess.
I throw my head back, biting my lip to stay quiet as my orgasm racks my body.
Trey has never made me have one, and I wonder what it would feel like for another person to make me come. I can control it. Feel it happening. I can do it exactly how I want.
I want to experience it with someone else in control, driving me to the edge, causing me to lose it in the best way.
By the time I'm done in the shower, my limbs feel heavy. I'm exhausted from all the events of the weekend, and I'm not ready to jump back into school tomorrow.
Plus, I'm a little ashamed about my thoughts, and I don't want to take the time to elaborate on what they mean.
So, I don't.
I go to sleep instead.
Hudson
Rylie and I get back to the apartment after a full day of activities. I love these days with her.
We went shopping for winter clothes, since a chill has penetrated the air.
Then, we had lunch and went to see a movie.
After that we grabbed groceries to get her through the next couple of weeks, and now we're carrying them up the decaying stairs of the apartment.
My shoes stick to the floor in the hallway and writing lines the walls. Years of shady people coming in and out, plus all the kids in this building have taken its toll. This place is a dump, and I hate that my baby sister has to stay here.
I use my key and turn the knob of door two-twenty-three. The numbers have been peeled off for a long time, leaving behind only specks of the black stickers before. The numbers can still be made out, though, thanks to the years of smoke in the hallways. They are forever etched into the door, always a shade lighter than the rest of the murky white paint.
Our mother is on the couch looking like a zombie. She barely manages to open her eyes as we walk in. I don't linger on her. Her dark hair and pale, sunken in face, always make my stomach hurt.
I instead train my eyes on Rylie. She's growing so fast. The hair that used to be bouncy and curly when she was little is now sleek and straight. The freckles that dot her nose and cheeks are covered by the makeup she buys when I give her cash to spend.
She doesn't deserve this.
I'm hoping with this new deal, I can get an apartment and throw my mother in rehab.
Rylie always assures me she isn't resentful. I've trained her countless times in defending herself, and she knows to be home before dark. I also have her location on my phone.
It doesn't matter, though. A fifteen-year-old girl shouldn't have so much pressure on her.
She's tough. Stronger than she should ever have to be.
"Where are you going next?"
"I've got a couple shows booked in the city. A big one on Halloween, too. Other than that, I guess I'll figure out what's going on with the EP."
"Just remember me when you're famous." She teases, "I'll probably hang out with Rachel some this week."
"Sure. Be safe, got it?"
"I'm always safe."
I watch my little sister. The only real family I have.
My dad's parents were ashamed of how he'd done the family, and their coping mechanism was to pretend we didn't exist at all.
They'd send gifts for Christmas and birthdays, then cash from time to time. That went on for about four years before they stopped altogether.
My mom's parents had been gone for years before I was even born.
It really is just Rylie and I.
"I love you." I tell her, kissing the top of her head. "I'm leaving. Lock up behind me."
"I know the drill. Be aware of my surroundings, carry my taser and pepper spray everywhere. Text you every chance I can get. Lock myself up like I'm Rapunzel. I've got it. Don't worry about me."
"I'll always worry about you."
I leave the apartment and stand outside until I hear the slide of the deadbolt. I hate leaving her there alone, but I can do a lot more for her in the city than I can in this sketchy town.
When I slide behind the wheel of my truck, memories swarm my thoughts.
I zipped up my hoodie, looking over at my baby sister. She'd been crying for hours. Only four years old, she didn't understand what was happening.
But I did.
We were alone, even though our mom was in the next room.
Something wasn't right, and I could feel it, even if I couldn't fully grasp it.
Our mom had been asleep for two days. Our dad had been gone for over a month.
We were on our own.
The food was getting lower and lower, some of it starting to go old.
The water had been turned off the day before and we were already starting to stink.
I needed to do something.
"I'll be right back, okay?" I squatted down, wiping Rylie's tears. "Do you want something to eat? I can make us grilled cheeses when I get back."
She nodded between sniffles. I stood up, unsure of where I was going, or what I was going to do. But one thing I knew for certain: I wasn't coming back empty handed.
"Go lay in your bed. Don't get up until I'm back. Don't answer the door for anyone."
I locked the door behind me and left the apartment.
We lived in a small town outside of Atlanta, Georgia.
This was where people didn't want to be.
I walked to the grocery store down the street, heading inside and looking for a man named Kurt.
He always gave my sister and I a cookie when we'd come in, and I figured he was my best bet.
"What's up, Hudson?" The man smiled at me. His gravelly voice cutting through the air. "Where is your mom?"
"She's... um, sick." I lied, "I was wondering if you, um, had any food? Or any work I could do for money?"
Even at only twelve, I knew I sounded like a beggar, and I didn't like that. But I didn't have much of a choice.
The old man looked at me suspiciously while wiping his dark brow clean of sweat with his white apron.
His face softened, like maybe he understood, and he leaned down.
"How old are you, kid?"
"Twelve."
"I can't have a kid working here."
"I know. I-I—I thought so." I tried to mask my disappointment, but I know it didn't work.
"What's going on, son? Is your mom really sick?"
I looked down, not knowing how to tell him that something was wrong. When I didn't answer, he shifted on his feet.
"Tell you what." He leaned down, coming face to face with me. The scent of cigarettes and coffee engulfed me as the heavyset man spoke. "I'll keep you in the back. It's not a glamorous job, but I'll pay you one-hundred a week. Plus, you can take home some food with you, okay? Whatever you want, just not too much, so they don't notice."
"Yes sir." I felt a weight lift off of me, "Thank you. Thank you so much."
That job helped a lot, and Kurt became like family.
I still had to steal from time to time, and when I got to high school, I did other things on the side to make ends meet. But I wouldn't have made it if it weren't for him.
My eyes get misty at the thought of Kurt. I miss him. He didn't owe me a thing, but he always took care of me and Rylie.
Every Christmas, he'd give me an extra one-hundred dollars just so I could buy Rylie presents.
He didn't have any family, either, so in a way, we became our own.
When he passed a few years ago, he left his money to me. It wasn't much, but the three-grand helped me buy a new guitar and amp. I also bought cellphones for Rylie and I, and I paid to get some things on my truck fixed.
Kurt was more of a father to me than my own dad was. I miss him every day.
As much as this is for Rylie, it's for him, too. He always believed in me. I want to make him proud.