CH 1-10

Summary

A Short Story about a small town boy and a trailer park girl. Both with a broken background that threatens to pull them beneath waters.

1 Playlist

•The Trailer Park Girl| A Short Story•

⎈Mishka & RJ⎈

Jessie Reyez- Apple Juice

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Jessie Reyez- Figures

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Jessie Reyez ft. 6LACK- Imported

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Jessie Reyez ft. Eminem- Coffin

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Giveon- Lies

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Russ ft. Jesse Reyez- Basement

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Giveon- Scarred

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2 “Please! I’m so…”

⎈

Mishka

“Please! I’m so sorry!” I scream.

“Get out. I never want to see your face ever again!”

“Come on, Rico! I said I was sorry!” I try to make him understand, pushing my body against his so he’d stop pushing me out.

His long fingers shove me away. “Get out!”

“I swear, he came onto me!”

“I don’t give a fuck, you bitch, get out!”

I swallow, and step away. “Rico…”

“Get the fuck out, you hear me?” He lifts his gun, cocking the Glock.

I back up, bumping into the crate at his door before tumbling out of the room.

I stand on the sidewalk, lifting my hand, trying to fan a taxi down. I got no cash, Rico borrowed it to buy weed, and seeing that he’s mad at me, I won’t be getting it back.

Cold wind sweeps against my face and burns my nose. Cars zap past as I reach up to press my knuckle against my face.

The bus comes.

I get on.

The drive home is tiring, cold, and I sit next to an old man in a mowly brown coat, his head bobbing from fatigue every other second.

The city is asleep, most shops and labels, closed. There’s not really much to do in an area you’ve been in all your life.

A woman ambles down the road alone. Her skirt is short, all torn around the hem. Her hair’s a bird’s nest, and she looks cold. My gaze follows her, even as the bus hurdles by her in the night.

When I get home, the arguments are there too.

“Fuck you, Fred. You can’t fuck me and not pay me! You can’t get my pussy and not give me money for it!”

“Oh, cállate, Mujer….” (oh, shut up, woman) Fred slams the fridge and walks out of the kitchen in his white wife-beater.

“Fuck you back! Piece of shit! Go get a job, damn it!”

“You’re mama is sick. I’m done with this shit.” Fred tells me as he walks by, bumping into my shoulder.

I turn to him. “Hold on, what about Kitara? She has school.”

“Then go fuck and let a man pay you, princess. I ain’t your father…”

I watch as he leaves the house, slamming the door.

“Ma,” I say in disappointment.

She presses her lips together and crosses her arms. “He’ll come back.” She shakes her head and presses a hand to her forehead, walking out of the kitchen.

She passes by me. “You smell like weed and sex. Do better…”

She walks straight to her room and slams the door shut.

I bring my shirt to my nose. Weed? Yes. Sex. Not really…

I make my way upstairs and prepare for myself a bath, sitting blankly in the tub. Until I’m too cold and can’t feel my fingers anymore, and then I come out.

I go downstairs and warm up my dinner. It’s cold porridge and the dry bread Trisha has had since last week.

I eat it, not thinking about what it is and how it tastes as the sogginess passes through my throat and into my stomach. And then I go upstairs to check on Kitara.

My little sister is wrapped in bed, wearing the same clothes I saw her in this morning, the ones she wears almost every day after she comes home from school.

I step away and pull her door up, hearing as it snaps close.

•

“Tonight is the party, yeah? You ’gon like it. The boys are bringing liquor, and booze. It’s gonna be dope.”

I eavesdrop on the preppy girls next to me, a tinge of jealousy springing up.

I don’t have enough money to enjoy my teenage-hood like they can.

For the longest while, it’s been Rico helping me out with school. Now that we aren’t together anymore, I can kiss his help goodbye. The little money Mum gets from Fred can’t reach enough. It’s for Kitara. And well, her.

“You fucking idiot. Liquor and booze are the same things, wanker!”

“Ah, yeah, totally forgot!”

And the girls chuckle. Their voices fade out as they walk away.

“You going to Jimi tonight?”

“I may…”

“He’s so hot…”

“Yeah, he’s alright. Finishes too fast, though, if y’nuhwahamean.”

•

It’s torturous going through the waves of school. Everything is a bore and feels like a chore. It’s lunch, I sit at the back of the school, squinting out at the field in the distance. I don’t have anything to eat. I don’t know how I’m even going to take the bus home after school. I’ll have to walk.

Across the dirt track, I see RJ Cadiz. We’ve never really spoken. He’s always dealing drugs. At least, that’s what I think he does.

His head is shaved, and he looks like he has distant Mexican descent. He likes wearing ripped T-shirts and pants with holes in them.

He pops a cigarette in his mouth as he hops down from the bar flanks that separate the field from the school’s building.

He’s moving in my direction but doesn’t look my way. He’s busy pocketing something, the sun clearly harsh on his eyes.

As he passes by me, his grey irises slip to mine.

“You know you shouldn’t smoke that stuff, yeah?!” I call out. “It damages your lungs!”

“Okay.” His head jerks as he slows down his pace. “You a doctor or something?”

I shake my head. “I’m not a doctor.” My hair blows against my eyes. “I’m Mishka. Mishka Bardot.”

RJ just stares at me for a while. He says his name back for answering purposes. “Well, I’m RJ—”

“Cadiz. I know.”

“Oh.” He lifts his chin suspiciously, then starts walking again. “See you around.”

He continues on his way, and I bend my head to watch him leave.

••

“You coming, girlie?” The busman bends his head.

A boy passes me, crashing into my shoulder as he hops up into the bus. But I’m too absorbed in counting out the coins I’ve found that I don’t care. I lick my lips, and raise my eyes to the stout driver, who looks impatient. “Just catch the next bus…”

I feel around my pocket. No more money.

I step away. “I’m not coming.”

The driver rolls his eyes and unravels his door shut. The bus drives away and I begin to walk. I try not to think. I focus on my surroundings. The sidewalk, the billboards, stray dogs on the wayside, coke cans, candy wrappers…

A car slows down beside me. I look over, my brows furrowing as the window rolls down.

It’s RJ Cadiz.

“Why you walking?” He calls out.

I chew on my lip. Is he talking to me? “I-I don’t have fare.”

“You don’t have what?”

“Money, for the bus…”

“Oh.” He looks ahead, swallowing. “Well hop in, I’ll take you home.”

I’ve learned one thing about boys and men. Most of them don’t do anything for you unless they want something in return. The question is: What does RJ Cadiz want from a girl like me?

I open the car door and slip inside. I hug my bag as he starts up his engine and propels down the road.

I slide my eyes to the edge of my vision. His car is messy, things thrown all about. I drop my perusal to his jeans, how his thigh jerks at each slow tap of his foot.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He starts sliding down the device while trying to keep his eyes on the road at the same time. I eye him.

His lips separate into a toothy smile. He has a really nice smile. “Oh, shit…” He brings the device to his face to scratch his nose with his thumb.

When he starts to put his phone back into his front pocket, I look away and out the window.

“Hey…” He says, and I look over at him.

“Can you climb over my backseat, and pass me that rag on the floor? My windscreen is kind of foggy.”

I shift forward and turn my upper body around, stretching over to his backseat. My butt juts out, and I see RJ look there, his throat moving as he refocuses his gaze to the road. But then he looks there again.

On the floor, there is a pair of tangled white panties. I pause, staring at the fabric all looped on his mat. I grab the grimy rag off the seat and bounce back around, stretching it over to him.

“Thanks…” He tries to juggle between cleaning his windshield and driving. But then it’s hard and he just gives up, looking over at me. “Hey, hold the steering wheel…like this.”

I stare at him with an open mouth, wondering if he’s being serious. When he just stares at me, I reach out and wrap my fingers around his steering wheel.

“Thanks.” With his foot on the gas, RJ begins to wipe his windshield, chewing on his bottom lip. “You’re good now.” He says and quickly retakes control of the steering wheel, his rough fingers touching mine in the process. I slide my hand from under his, but he doesn’t seem to care even as he looks down at his lap, up at the road again. Then he peers down and zips his pants up.

I look away again and out the window.

“Hey, I’m sorry. But I got to…I got to give somebody something. And I’m running late. I’ll have to go home.”

“You can take me there…” I say quietly.

“Are you sure?” He raises his brow.

“Yes…” I don’t want to go home. Don’t want to see Trisha and her red, bloodshot eyes.

“Okay…” He looks almost concerned, but the countenance swiftly fades as he reaches over and turns his radio up.

•

His room is almost typical. You can tell a boy lives in here. Like the rest of the house, it’s simple, laid-back, almost…impoverished. Like me, he doesn’t seem to have much.

He grunts as he squats on the ground, a burning cigarette in his mouth as he pulls out the bottom drawer of his dresser.

I tear my eyes away from the newspaper and magazine pastings on his wall and focus on him.

He looks at the corner of his vision at me, and I divert my gaze to his very small bed.

Now that I’m not looking, he continues to gather a bunch of white plastic bags of something, stuffing them under his shirt.

But, I’ve already seen them.

He stands, and his phone pings. He slips it from his pocket and peers down at the blue screen.

“Be right back. When I come back, I’ll take you home.”

I nod as he walks past me and out the door, not even bothering to close the door.

I stand there, taking in every single inch and crevice of the space.

I can’t seem to forget Trisha’s words:

If a boy takes you home, he wants sex.

It’s all I’ve known my whole life. When men come over and when Trisha goes to their house, she always comes home with a ton of money. I know what she had to give to get it. It’s kind of what I had to give to have Rico take care of me.

There’s no more Rico. Which means, no more money for school. It’s hard. Everything is…

I swallow, and without thinking, I undress for when RJ comes back.

I know what he wants. All boys want it. They don’t give something without receiving anything in return. It’s how it works.

Naked, I step out of my jeans and sit on his bed.

Soon, he comes back. He doesn’t even look at me. He sits on a chair in his room, his back turned to me as he starts counting what looks like money.

I sit there. Cold…and waiting.

I have no money to pay him back for his gas. And this is all I can offer him.

His head turns to the side, then he looks down, then back to the side like he just remembers me. His head darts around, and he sees me finally.

His eyes trail over me, and his motions slow down. “What are you doing?”

I’m sitting on the bed, hugging my legs.

RJ looks at me. Long and hard, and then he grabs my jeans off his ground and throws them at me. They hit me in the chest.

“Put your clothes on.”

I stare at him, confused.

“You think I want sex? No, B. I get a ton of that. I’m not a charity case.”

Swallowing, I grab my jeans and quietly begin to put them on.

“Fuck, you’re reaching.” He rubs his shaved head and walks out of the room, slamming the door shut.

3 The ride home…

⎈

Mishka

The ride home is quiet.

I don’t say anything. Keeping my eyes out the window of his broken-down Mercedes.

I don’t know how he’s able to buy a car.

His house is rags.

“Where you live, Mami?” He says quietly.

And I moisten my throat before answering: “State Convert. The fifth trailer down the block.”

“Alright.” He uses the flat of his hand to turn the wheel of his car. He swerves onto the avenue, and a ball lodges itself in my tonsil. I pick at the scab on my knee, so much it becomes wet.

In my side-view, I see his eyes dip there. He looks away, bobbing his head as he taps his steering wheel rhythmically.

He comes to a stop at my rusty gate, night bugs twinkling outside of the car. I can already smell the wet scent of mom’s old steely grill pan. I don’t know why she won’t throw it away. Ain’t like she grills anymore. She used to. A lot. Now she only grills real-life penises.

I tried to grill one tonight. You know, for lunch money tomorrow. But RJ don’t play that way. Sorry, Ma.

“We here…” He says, in his awful grammar. It’s ‘we’re here’ not ‘we here.’

Without a word, I unlatch my seatbelt and grab my bag.

“Hey.” He says, dipping his head slightly. “You do that often?”

I meet his eyes.

I don’t say anything.

“I mean, offer your body to boys that have no sense of direction?” And his teeth showcase in a grin.

I swallow.

“Don’t do that again. There’re lots of diseases out here and shit. It’s not worth it.”

“Goodnight.” I push the door open and climb out onto the pavement.

“You’re welcome!” He calls after me.

I hear his car swerve away as I curse under my breath, marching to my house with my hair blowing in the wind.

I stop and look back to see him speeding around the corner, driving more awfully than when I was in the car with him.

Pushing open the door to my house, an anger I can’t explain plops its heavy weight on me.

The music Trisha is playing is too loud, and my brain is gonna pop.

“You’re late! Where have you been? You said Rico broke up with you!” Mom says above the bass. When I try to pass her, she grabs my arm and pulls me back. “Hey, girl!”

“Lay off!” I scream at her, wiggling myself free and running upstairs.

I drop myself on my bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Put your clothes on.

Don’t do that again.

I swallow.

•

The next day, I see RJ sitting on the fences. He’s smoking, a lit cigarette between his fingers. Two boys are around him. I stand on the school’s patio, watching as one of the boys hops down and stealthily offers him what seems like money.

I squint my eyes.

Licking my lips, I walk off the pavement and approach him. London air is cold, turning my lips pale and my eyes dry. And they are dry. So dry.

When RJ sees me coming, he rolls his eyes subtly like: that crazy chick again.

He doesn’t know, that crazy is all I know…

It’s what Ma is. I’m my mother’s daughter. You understand, right? Why I have to be the same?

“It’s her again…” I hear him say softly.

His friend smirks and says nothing else.

The breeze hits him a certain way, and he narrows his eyes from it, grimacing from the harsh weather as he watches me come closer. His ashy eyes drop to my scab-knee. They stay there before gradually pulling up to my gaze.

“See you later, bloke.” His friend hops down and struts away, pulling his heavy jeans up his slim waist. I see him look back as I stop in front of RJ.

There’re ants out here. He proper mad for always hanging out under this sheddy tree. I guess it’s where’s more convenient to deal with his drugs.

“Sup?” He asks, “you stalking me now.”

“No.” I shift from ants, reaching down to itch my foot briefly. “What you selling?”

“Jolly Ranchers.”

“No, you aren’t…”

“Yes, I am. You eighteen yet?”

“On Friday.”

He lifts a brow.

“I mean, last Friday.”

He relaxes.

Mum said never tell a man your age. I’ll gladly tell RJ. There’s something about him. Misery loves company, they say. I can tell he’s miserable. Can’t be happy feeding schoolers drugs.

“I don’t trust you.” He says, but I’m not hurt.

I cross my arms, squinting as my brittle hair blows in my eyes.

“Why not?”

He stares at me for a while. Looks down at my knee again. Then all over me. “How am I to trust a girl that gets naked for someone she’s never really spoken to?”

I don’t say anything about that. Instead, I point next to him. “Can I hop on?”

He looks at the spot next to him, then hesitates by staring off behind me. Then he nods. “Do your thing.”

I move closer and grip the cold steel bars, pulling my body upright. He watches me, the cigarette now propped back between his lips.

I finally get on, my feet hanging over the rail. RJ looks at my ugly torn-up sneakers. By next week, my toe will be saying hello to everyone I meet.

“You need new shoes.” He says.

“I know.” I look over at him, swinging my feet. “You need a new shirt.”

I look down at his shirt. It’s grey, torn in some places.

“It’s the style.” He turns his face ahead. “Why you following me around? Hoping I fuck you?”

I gulp and don’t answer. Diverting my gaze ahead of me too, I say:

“What you selling?”

“Gummy Bears.”

“I want some.”

He laughs. “Heck no, Mami.”

I look at him, my ugly orange hair tumbling over my shoulder. “Why not?”

RJ looks at me for a long while. “It’s not for the faint of heart.”

If he knew the things I’ve witnessed, he’d see that my heart isn’t faint at all…

“I can handle it.”

“What else can you handle?” He asks, eyes boring through mine.

I stare back at him. “Anything…”

•

He pushes the girls’ bathroom door open, gently ushering me in before slamming it shut behind him.

“Can I give you this instead of the jolly ranchers?”

I nod as I sit on the discoloured toilet seat.

He starts undoing his belt as I curl my fingers under the hem of my shirt and pull it off.

I’m not wearing a bra. I only own one. And I rotate. Monday I wear the bra. Tuesday I wear none. Today is Thursday. So…no bra.

I itch my fingers in the side of my pants, pushing them down my legs.

My underwear. It’s worse. It’s…too small. The pink is fading. It says: Wednesday. But…it’s Thursday.

RJ stares down at my lap for a long time, while I sit there, feeling cold.

He’s stopped undressing, standing stiffly like when you press pause on a rented movie.

I swallow.

He blinks and rubs his head. “I-I’ll give you jolly ranchers instead…” He backs up like: AIDS is written on my panties and backs out into the bathroom.

I blink, staring at the door that swings shut, bumping against the hinges before cracking open again.

“I’m not having sex with you…so I’ll give you the gummy bears. Meet me in the parking lot after school…”

I chew on my lip. “Okay.”

And he leaves.

4 We are out…

⎈

Mishka

We are out of bread! Pick some up. Along with some cigarettes! —Trisha.

I sigh as I type a response to Trisha.

I don’t have any money.

Try to get some! Or Kitara won’t be able to go to school tomorrow! —Trisha.

I’ll try. I’ll try. I’ll try.

Maybe when I meet RJ in the parking lot after school I could try to get him to…you know, have sex with me again. Then he’d have to give me something for it. Mom says it’s best to never take less than fifty pounds. RJ makes money from drugs. I don’t know much, but drugs ain’t cheap. He can pay me good pounds in exchange for him doing anything he wants to do…

As soon as school ends, my teacher, Ms. Christian calls me up to the desk. Her name’s befitting. She’s a Christian. Always telling us Jesus will save us. I’m still waiting for him to save my family. But…I’m not rushing him. There’re so many people in the world.

“Mishka? You think you can stay after school tomorrow? I need some help in the art room.”

I can’t. I do job hunting on Fridays. I lost my job last week, when my boss wanted to make advances I didn’t want…

When she sees me pause, she says: “Nevermind…” She flicks her wrist. “I’ll ask Amanda. Enjoy your evening…”

I feel bad, but don’t say anything as I hurry out of the classroom.

In the parking lot, RJ is waiting, leaned up against his car. His friend is there again. When they see me coming, RJ just watches me with that squinted look he’d give to me. His friend just smirks like he’s starring in some James Dean movie.

I stop in front of RJ and ask: “You ready?”

“You ready?” He counters. “These jolly ranchers aren’t so jolly.”

I smile. “Nothing is really jolly. Almost everything is a facade. After a time, it all mulls into one big dull space and things all start to feel the same. It’s a matter of perception, really…”

RJ’s friend looks at him like: you really talk to this freak? But RJ doesn’t look at him. He’s staring at me like I just recited the greatest speech in this whole lifetime.

“See you later.” His friend leaves.

RJ nods to his car. “We’ll deal at my house. I got some sweeter ones there.”

“Alright…”

•

In his car, it’s quiet. Smells like cigarettes and cherry soda—the ones from in-and-out fast food places. There’s also another smell I can’t make out. Not a bad one—but it is a bit weird.

There’s no tangled panties. No condom packets. He cleaned up a little.

When we get there, RJ’s house is different this time. The first time it was empty, and now, there’re people everywhere.

Well, not people. Just a bunch of guys.

And they’re not everywhere. Just on the sofa.

“Who are these people?” I ask him, and he says:

“My brother’s friends.”

“Yo, your lil bro is here!” A guy says where he sits in front of the box-Tv, and an almost bald-headed guy lifts his head and looks over the cream sofa.

“Ah, you’re home, RJ?” He looks at his brother then back at me. “Who’s the girl?”

“A friend.” RJ says.

“Alright, come sit with us for a second.”

RJ goes to sit there. I do, too. I sit at the end, he sits beside me.

For a while, no one’s saying anything.

“Can you suck cock, princess?” RJ’s brother suddenly asks, smoke pouring through his nose. The men smile. “My little brother loves getting a good shine.” He points his cigarette to his brother.

I look over at RJ. “I could do it if he’s interested…”

The guys cheer like high-schoolers. Maybe some of them are? Some are older than us. Beard and everything. I look around, confused.

RJ’s head snaps to me, and I can tell he’s a little disapproving.

He grabs my arm and pulls me somewhere. Up the board steps and straight into his room.

“You gotta stop acting like that. Those men will get the wrong impression…” He says as he takes his shirt off. He’s wearing a white-wife beater, chain around his neck, lots of chains around his pants.

He brushes some CDs and DVDs off his bed. Cassettes of naked women with big breasts. “Sit. You’re triggering my anxiety.”

I plop my butt on his fading flowers sheet. I stare at the material. “Flowers for a boy…”

“You sound homophobic. Here.” He stretches a cigarette out to me.

I stare at it and shake my head. “Why you got on flower sheets?”

“You’re mad for asking me that.”

“Are they all you got?”

“Yes. They’re my sister’s.”

“Oh.” I smile, feeling bad for prying. “She’s nice for lending them to you.”

“She’s dead. She doesn’t know I have them.” He licks his red mouth, and puts the cigarette I didn’t take behind his ear. “Well, maybe she knows, who knows…”

I look down from him and at the floor, sympathy covering me like his warm presence. “I’m sorry. My dad died, too. Of lung cancer.”

“Fuck. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“Is it really? Your socks have holes in them…”

I position my gaze on the grey socks, my toes poking through them. I crinkle my toes and push them under the bed. The position hurt my knees.

“Sorry for pointing them out…” He says, “You don’t need to break your feet in.”

I glance up and down again, smiling slightly.

“I should take the sheets off. Get up for a second.”

He holds my arms and I readily stand. I come face to face with him. So close, we’re breathing the same air. He stares down at me, and I peer back at him. I bring my face closer when he turns his head away, showing the Chinese tattoo behind his ear.

I stare at him as he walks around me and pulls the sheet off.

“Am I ugly?” I ask quietly.

“Do you think you’re ugly?” He asks quietly.

“Yes. My eyes are big. My teeth aren’t the best.” I shift. “Is that why you don’t want to sleep with me?”

“Would you rather I fuck you and ditch you at school?”

“Yes. Then I’ll be good for something.”

He pauses for a while, then folds the sheet and places it in a corner. “I think you need help.”

I do.

I sit on the raw mattress. “Why did you take the sheets off?”

“Can’t deal on my sister’s stuff.” He pulls his pants up, his Calvin Klein boxers showing at the waistline. “You should wear a bra to school. I think there are people who can tell you don’t have one on…” He sits next to me and bends to pull out the box under the bed.

“I own one bra.”

He pauses again, then proceeds to open the box. He pulls out a bag of what looks like candies and places them next to me.

“They’re poppers. They’re mild.” He takes a white bag of small colourful pebbles and passes them to me.

“Thanks. Can I take them all at once?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Look, it’s a one time thing, alright? You should focus on school. Become a doctor or some shit.”

“What about you?” I tilt my head. “You don’t want to be a doctor?”

He looks down at the bag in his hand, playing with it. “I can’t be one of those things.”

“Why not?”

“I…” He swallows. “I’m just not cut out for it, you know? Like, I believe that there are people who are just destined to be something. Destined to be what they are. And you can just know that if they were to take a different path and try to cheat the game, they’d end up at the same spot.”

“How do you know this is for you?” I ask softly, shaking my head.

“Because I just know. It feels…it’s comfortable. It feels wrong but yet it feels right like I wasn’t made for anything else. I do this shit too effortlessly. I’m a professional at this…”

“How can you know you won’t like anything else unless you try?”

He shakes his head. “I won’t like anything else…”

“Do you like this?” I lift the bag of drugs.

He shrugs. “I don’t even know…” he breathes. “I-I think I do.”

My features soften.

“You know when my dad left, it was just my mom, JR and my sister. I…I…Mum wasn’t coping. She kept thinking of my dad. She was in so much pain…” He shakes his head, his voice changing from the confidence it usually has. “At the time, JR got into dealing. It was how he coped. See, the thing is, I felt like it was what I should be doing too. For the longest time I’ve looked up to JR. I’ve seen him as a mentor, a friend. So…I started doing it too…”

I nod.

“Until one day…Mum was having one of her breakdowns…And I hated to see her like that. So…I brought her…I brought her a certain pill…it’d make her calm down…”

My lips bend.

“It did. It calmed her down. But…she got addicted. She’d freak out. She found out what it was. JR told her. And my mum…she was so tormented one day…I was at school, JR at the mechanic shop, my sister…at school. And my mum, she…she wanted to feel alive that she took the whole bottle…” A tear slips down his cheek. My lips fall open. “She took too much. I found her dead, naked in the bathtub…” He bends over and buries his face in his hands. “And it’s fucked with me. It’s fucked with me so much, I can’t…” He sniffs, sobbing in his hand.

“I’m sorry…” A tear slips down my cheek.

“And then…” He sits up and wipes his eyes. “Layla couldn’t deal with it. She killed herself. I saw her hanging from the roof. I killed my mum and sister…”

“You didn’t…it’s not your fault. None of it is…” I smile slightly, rubbing his hand.

He looks over at me, and I rub his hand even gentler. He acts like he isn’t used to it and just stares at me.

Then he swallows and suddenly leans in, plastering his mouth on mine.

His jaw clenches as he slips his tongue into my mouth. I kiss him back with equal need, and he plasters his rough fingers around the nape of my neck. His fingers feel calloused, tougher than he looks. He does a lot of hard work, doesn’t he? Aside from selling drugs, what else does he get around doing?

He’s kissing me so hard I think he wants to melt our lips into one. His hand moves from my neck and to the back of my head, holding me in place. He’s breathing hard as he presses himself into me, his hard penis poking against my leg. He’s aroused. I’m not so ugly, am I, now?

His tongue is violent, a bit rough as it swirls around mine. I taste salty tears into the kiss. He’s good at kissing, like he’s done it a zillion times.

His slender hands rest on my waist. He’s so strong that I don’t know when he moved me. I just know I was sitting on the bed and now he’s lifted me and laid me down with his strong hands. He’s changed; his eyes are darker, his cheeks are clenched, eyes blazing. His mouth is thick and pink as he breaks the kiss and looks down at me.

Long lashes awn his eyes.

I stare up at him, breathing hard.

He peers deep into my soul.

“Leave…” He says calmly. “Or I’ll fuck you. Hard.”

I don’t move.

“Get. Out. Now.”

I quickly scramble off the bed at the warning, and run out of his room.

When I get to the living room, his brother is just standing up.

“Princessa? You leaving already?”

I nod redly, more than once, my shoulders lifted in anxiety. I’m so stupid.

“Need a ride? You look…like you can barely walk.”

“He fucked her real good, didn’t he?” One of the men says.

A hand grabs mine and before I know it, I’m being pulled toward the door. “Never wanna see you ever again, you hear me? Avoid me at school. Stay away from me…” RJ hauls me to his car and pushes me against it. “Get in. I’m taking you home and you stay fucking clear of me, you hear me?”

“Why you acting mad?” I breathe heavily.

He walks around the car and climbs in.

I swallow and get in next to him.

5 The car is…

⎈

Mishka

The car is quiet all the way home. But not the earlier quiet. The different quiet. The quiet that screams: you’ll never talk to me again.

He parks at my gate. What did I do? I just comforted him.

“Get out. I never wanna see your face ever again.”

“Why?” I ask, looking over at him. For the longest while I’ve been numb. But tonight, hurt seep into my bones like a disease. “Did I do something?”

“No. You know maybe you’re right. You aren’t so good-looking, Mishka.”

I swallow. “What?”

“Your eyes are big. Fucking big and watery. And you’re teeth aren’t the prettiest either. Tell me, why would I want to hang around you?”

My eyes water even more, and I wish they’d stop. “Really. You kissed me…”

“Yeah, I was horny.”

“Goodbye.” I climb out of the car, hearing a faint “shit,” as I slam the door. But I just heard things—he didn’t say that.

•

“No, Kitara. It’s five. Five is the answer.” I groan.

My little sister erases what she has and puts the correct answer on her homework.

“Stop being so mean to your sister!” Mom continues, “or I’m gonna let them take her away…”

My head snaps to hers at the mention of that. Trisha is always guilt-tripping me. Always saying she’ll let child services take my sister away if I don’t do what she wants.

Angry, I climb up off the ground and run upstairs.

Inside the bathroom, I strip my clothes off and go sit in the discoloured tub of cold water, hugging my knees.

“No. You know maybe you’re right. You aren’t so good-looking, Mishka.”

“Your eyes are big. Fucking big and watery. And your teeth aren’t the prettiest either. Tell me, why would I want to hang around you?”

I press my nose against my arm, a tear rolling down my face.

“Hey, girl, hurry up, I need to pee!” Trisha calls outside. “We can’t keep stealing water here, so find a job soon! Come on, I’m spraying all over the floor!”

•

“Are you on your period? There’s a red stain on your chair?”

I look back. Seeing that in fact, there is a red stain.

“Thanks.” I smile at the freckled-face girl. She nods and turns to walk out of the class.

I call out to her. “Hey, um, do you have…any…”

She looks at me and shakes her head. “Yeah…but only tampons…”

I can’t use that…I hate them.

“Oh…okay…”

She purses her lips and walks away. I sigh, shaking away the feeling of dread seeping over me.

Luckily, I’m the only one left here. I’ll wait at the back of this lab, until most of the kids clear out of the school, and then I’ll leave. I’ll walk home.

I make my way to the back and squat with my bag on my lap. I wince as I look down at the scab on my knee. It’s opening again.

I press my forehead against my arm.

Suddenly, the door to the lab pushes open. My head lifts slowly, but my body tingles as I see RJ and two other guys coming in.

I stare down at my jeans.

“Fifty pounds, wanker. I don’t play that way,” RJ’s saying, as the guy dips into his pocket, a white plastic bag of white substance in the other.

RJ looks to his left, and our eyes connect. I quickly reposition my gaze to the floor.

“Hey, girl, you good?” The other guy asks. He’s talking to me.

I don’t answer.

“See you two tomorrow…” RJ says quietly.

I don’t look up. When he’s finished, he’ll leave.

The two guys leave the room, the guy who was asking me if I’m fine, looking back once again.

The door clamps shut.

But I can still smell RJ. I can smell his cigarettes. His perfume.

“What’s up?” He calls to me, and his voice echoes in the quiet classroom. “You good?”

I peek up, but don’t say anything.

I press my forehead on my arm.

“Mishka.”

Why he wants to talk to the ugly girl?

I hear his feet against the ground as he crosses the floor. I squeeze my arm, refusing to look up.

“Mishka…”

I’m having a slight tummy ache. I don’t feel like talking. Don’t really feel like making it up with him. Not that he wants to make it up with me. I’m reaching—in RJ’s famous words.

He squats. The breeze of his perfume meets my nose. It hurts my belly even more. “What’s wrong?”

I lift my gaze to meet his.

His brows furrow. “Someone hurt you?”

I shake my head.

“Then what’s wrong?” His forehead hasn’t smoothed out. He doesn’t entirely believe my half-lie. Someone’s hurt me. He did.

“I…my…”

He stares at me, bewildered at first, and then his eyes glow with understanding. “Oh. Then why are you here?”

I don’t say anything, and after a few seconds, he swallows and asks: “want me to go get some for you?”

I nod again.

“Okay…I’ll run to the pharmacy. The nurse has locked up; won’t get any there…” He stands.

I peer up at him. “You know what to do?”

“Yeah. I used to buy them for my mom and Layla.”

“I’m sorry.” I say truthfully.

“For getting your period?”

I blush. “No. I’m sorry you have to buy that for me…when it probably reminds you of your sister…”

“It’s okay. I can’t watch you bleed all over the floor.”

My neck gets warm. “Thanks…”

“I’ll be right back. Don’t move from here.”

“I can’t move.”

“Okay. Here…” He starts to pull his dark-grey T-shirt over his head, leaving him in a light blue wife-beater. He squats, his sneakers squeaking against the floor as he rolls up the neck of the shirt and puts it over my head.

I stare up at him, feeling my heart beating in ways I can’t imagine.

“Don’t look at me like that…” he says softly, “you’re sick. I can’t fuck you.”

“You’d fuck me?”

“Definitely not.” He stands up again, but he looks a little red, like all the blood is rushing to his face.

Definitely not. I forgot I’m the ugly girl…

RJ leaves the class to go to the pharmacy. The sun is setting now. The caretaker will soon need to close the class. I’ve missed the bus a thousand times over, so I’ll have to really walk home. RJ won’t drop me. He isn’t fond of me anymore. Probably never was in the first place.

Soon, I hear his footsteps outside of the room, and then the door is opening again. He’s back fast. The bag is bigger than it’d have been had he picked up only sanitary pads.

“Got you some warm patches. Over-the-counter pills for pain. All sorts of other stuff.”

“You didn’t have to.” I say, then mutter: “especially since I’m so ugly…”

RJ hears but doesn’t comment on it. His face forms a tiny frown, though. He said it; why he acting like he’s never heard it before?

He helps me up. Red coats parts of my jeans. RJ doesn’t care, he doesn’t look. Like he’s been here before. I feel sorry for him. Feel so bad he’s lost so much of his family. I hate that he blames himself. I want to say something, but he’ll only get mad and tell me to stay away from him again.

The bathrooms are closed, so there’s nowhere to clean up.

“I’ll take you home.” He says, surprising me.

Remembering Trisha and her drunk behaviours, I shake my head. “It’s okay…”

“I’ll take you to my crib then. Is that okay?”

I nod a little. “Okay…”

We walk out of the school building. RJ opens the door to his car, and I hesitate.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“I-I’ll only mess your seat up…” I remind him.

“It’s leather. I’ll just clean it tomorrow.”

“Oh. Okay…” I slide inside and bundle his shirt above my waist so I don’t sit on it. Wouldn’t want to mess it up too.

RJ gets around to his side and starts up the engine, then he guns out of the grounds.

6 His house is…

⎈

Mishka

His house is quiet tonight. He says JR is at his friend’s house; that’s where he usually hangs out on Fridays. He’d usually go there too, but I spoiled that for him. With my spoiled jeans…

“You can use my bathroom. Do whatever you want.” He says and sits on his bed. He looks tired as he pops the neck of his wife-beater then hauls it by the dip and lifts it over his head.

I’ve never seen him shirtless. He has a ton of tattoos on his back. RJ isn’t muscular. He’s kind of lean. Just a little muscle here and there—not as much as my mum’s boyfriends would have. But there is just something…that makes me feel all weird when I look at him. Appeal—sex appeal. Mum says someone can be so ugly yet there is something about them that’s more attractive than the most handsome of persons.

Not that RJ isn’t handsome. He is. Way past handsome. Too handsome to deal drugs. He should model. Take photos for Vogue or one of those big magazines. He doesn’t deserve to be this way, no matter how much he thinks he does.

I make my way to the bathroom. I sort the bag. There’s a ton of underwear and bras too. Over a dozen of them. There’re socks, a pair of cheap plastic sandals.

The door cracks, and a slender hand with a wristwatch and beady bracelet slips through. A tattoo is inked on the first joint of his thumb—on the back. “Here…” He swings me a clean pair of boxers. “Wear this until…you sort those out. Wash them or whatever…”

I reach out and take it from him. “Thanks…”

He moves back and the door rattles shut again. I stare at the board barrier. It’s almost breaking down, some graffiti on it. Just stick men and guns badly drawn with black marker.

I take a shower. He has cool running water. Unlike back home when we have to fill the bucket from our neighbours tank and fill the bath up. Water spikes from RJ’s shower head, and I like it.

I wash off thoroughly, enjoying every moment of it.

After my shower, I leave the room with my hair wet and clumped together like thick straws. The boxers are comfortable, and I took two of the pills with the sink water.

I don’t feel so bad anymore.

RJ is sitting on his bed, plucking an ivory guitar.

“What are you doing?”

He snaps his head around, shaking it. “Nothing…”

“You can play?” I sit next to him with a smile.

“My father got me this before he ran away, leaving us…” He says. “Things used to be better back then. I used to have hobbies…” He places the guitar on the ground. Unlike the other old resources in his room, the guitar looks new and untouched. Like he doesn’t use it that much.

“Hobbies like what?” I smile, wanting to also keep in my boundaries so he doesn’t yell at me and chase me home again.

“Um…drawing…” He stretches his hand forward, and opens the light-board closet. He grabs a sketchpad thrown down among clothes on the closet floor, shuts it back, and begins to skip through the scrapbook. “Look at these…”

I pull closer, peering down at them.

They are sketches. All looking really nice. I love them a lot. They are unique. Mostly portraits of humans but with unusual alien features. Blue skin, red skin, heads too big for their bodies. It’s just unique art, that makes him, him.

“These are so good…” I smile.

“Are they? They’re mad stupid.”

“No, they aren’t…” I shake my head.

“Maybe you think that because you’re stupid…” he says, and my feelings are hurt.

I look down. “Could you stop?”

“No.”

My jaw clenches and I get up, moving to the door. RJ jumps up off the bed, walking behind me, and when I grip the knob and open it, he flattens his hand against it and shoves it close.

He stands behind me, his chest pressing into my back. “I’m sorry.”

I stare at the door, not knowing how to feel.

“I’m sorry I said you’re ugly and stupid. I’m sorry…”

I turn around to face him, my wet hair lying around me. I peer up from under my lashes. “I’ve had enough of that, you know…”

He stares down at me.

“My ex-boyfriend. Rico. He used to get really mad at me.” I swallow. “He treated me like dirt. He was weird. Made me do weird things. I was only with him…so he could help with my lunch money.”

RJ’s jaw flexes at my story. “Oh?”

“But his friend came onto me. One night I was at his house. He went downstairs, and his friend tried to touch me. Then he thinks I came onto his friend. He left me…”

RJ chews on his mouth.

“You say you don’t trust me. I don’t trust men. I don’t trust boys…”

His eyes shone with unease.

“But I feel comfortable with you. And it’s not because…I want lunch money…”

He looks down.

“It’s cause…I think you’re…cute.” I turn my face to his dresser on my right, staring at the old Christmas decoration pinned there. “And you’re…really cool.”

For a while, RJ says nothing. And neither do I.

He steps close to me, closing the little distance. I look up at him as he stares down at me.

“You’re lucky you’re sick…” His voice sounds older; gruff. “I’d give you something for that…”

“For what?” I ask genuinely.

“The things you just said. The things you’re doing…the way you’re making me feel.”

“How am I making you feel?” I whisper.

“You know.”

I shake my head. “I don’t…”

“I want to show you. What you’re doing to me…” he says, “And what I plan to give you will be so hard and good, you’ll not want me to stop…”

My mouth falls open.

The door knocks, causing us to jerk.

“Quit backing your fist, I brought food!” JR shouts beyond the door.

RJ swallows. “Go put your slippers on, we’re going down for food…”

7 Ahh, shit, almost…

⎈

Mishka

“Ahh, shit, almost caught him!” JR laughs, jerking at the edge of his seat as he watches the action film.

I munch on my Chinese food, using the chopsticks to sort it. There isn’t much food, and I think I shortened their dinner.

RJ laughs. “Shit! He’s gonna fucking kill them all!” He takes a big bite of his chicken. He glances at me, looks away, but then takes a double-take when he sees me watching him.

“You good?” He asks, and I nod.

“Mm…”

RJ focuses back to the movie. “Yo, Dad used to love this part…”

JR doesn’t say anything. He only smiles, leaning back. His smile is faltering and faltering until it looks so fake. His eyes are glassy as he stares at the movie, quietly now.

RJ realizes what he’s said and presses his face into his hands. His food is now on his mini-table. “Sorry. I’m so fucking stupid, sorry…”

JR runs his hand over his face and gets up, walking away. I watch the muscles ripple into his back beneath his white tank as he vanishes into what looks like his bedroom.

Soon after, I hear choked sobs, and my chest tightens.

RJ holds his forehead down on his arms.

I slide closer and place my hand on his back. “I’m sorry…”

He doesn’t say anything.

My phone vibrates, and I take it out to see Trisha on the notif bar.

Get home now! You’ve been taking it as a habit to stay out until late these days. What? You’ve found a new man? Bring him home for dinner then. Get home now!

I ignore her message, placing the phone back on the couch next to me.

“I’m sorry, RJ…”

•

RJ stops at the gates of my house, he’s cut up. Looking as though, he’s on the verge of breaking down.

I hug my backpack tightly, like it’s him I’m holding.

“It’s going to be okay…” I whisper.

“Can I suck your tits?” He asks suddenly, and I’m caught off-guard. I steer my face to his, seeing his eyes glowing in the dark. He looks like he needs it. The distraction…

I nod silently.

His lips bend, his brows trembling.

I curl my fingers under his T-shirt and pull it over my head. It’s Friday. So…bra day.

“You’re wearing a bra…” He points out, and I nod.

“Yeah…”

I reach around to unclip my peach bra, but he beats me to it, reaching around and unlatching the hooks. He pulls the cuffs down my chest, and my breasts become free, bobbing ever so lightly.

“You don’t have…much boobs…” He says quietly.

My heart races, goosebumps dancing across my skin. “I know…”

RJ leans in and instead of kissing my chest, he plasters his lips on mine. He trails kisses down my neck, all the way to my collarbone.

When he gets to my chest, he palms one of my boobs and covers the other with his mouth. I gasp, closing my eyes tightly.

He pops my nipple from his mouth, and it glows wetly in the dark. “You’re shaking. Like your ex didn’t do this to you…”

“He didn’t…”

RJ moves his head away, licking his pink lips. “How?”

I curl my fingers around the edge of the seat, the other in my lap. “He’s not…he doesn’t like making love…”

RJ wants to ask something else, but doesn’t. Instead, he leans forward and sucks my taut nipple into his mouth again. My heart pumps from my chest, a sweet feeling filling my stomach. He’s merely kissing my breast, yet it feels like he’s doing more to me.

He squeezes my breast in his hand, clumps of it pulping through the creases of his slender fingers, and he kneads and squeezes, until I’m weak.

“RJ…” I whimper.

He swirls his tongue around it, pulling it into his mouth, releasing it with a pop.

My phone starts ringing in my bag. It’s Trisha. I have to go before she lets child services take my sister away from me.

“RJ…we…have to-to stop…” I can barely get the words out, my toes curling in my new sandals.

He pops my breast from his mouth, the cool air meeting it as he moves away. His irises glow like dark diamonds.

“They taste good…”

I blush and ball up my bra, stuffing it into my backpack. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow…”

RJ nods. “Yeah. Please come…to school.”

“I will…”

It’s the only way to get rid of Trisha for a while.

I tumble out of the car, like the half-virgin I am and scuttle towards my house.

When I slip inside, I hear the sound of his car as he drives away.

8 RJ treats me…

⎈

Mishka

RJ treats me okay at school. No, he treats me good. We eat together, chat all through lunch; at every chance we get. I’m a loner, but I don’t look like a freak now that I’ve been hanging out with him. I don’t see him hang out with his rebellious friends anymore. The lot of them always seem like wanna-be rebels. Except for RJ. His story isn’t unrealistic. He’s really living a bad life.

I can’t forget the other night. The night he and his brother cried. It’s been on my mind. I wish I could help them overcome what’s been weighing on them.

“Later. Thanks for the ride…” I tell RJ, and he nods as I climb out of his ride.

He waits until I get on my porch before he drives away.

When I get inside, Trisha is sitting on the couch, smoking.

“Hey, you’re early.” She says with a smile. “Had you been earlier you’d have been there to see my new lover…” She dances. “He’s coming back tonight anyway.”

I slump my shoulders. “Who’s for next week?”

“What?” She calls out as I climb the stairs. I don’t bother answering. I was talking to myself anyway.

When has she ever cared about me?

My sister, Kitara, is sitting in her room playing with her dolls. I think she’s too old for it. She’s six, but talks like an adult. It’s Trisha’s fault; she doesn’t exercise good mother behaviour.

“You’re late, bitch.” Kitara grins.

I sigh and peel my bag off my arm. “I told you to stop saying that.”

“But you and mum say it all the time.”

“Yeah, but we’re older.” I sit on the bed, slipping my sandals off my feet.

She sighs. “Isn’t Rico talking to you anymore?” She tilts her head. “Mum says he left you because you can’t fuck. Is that true?”

“Stop it. And no, it’s not. Do your homework.”

“Stop talking to your sister that way! I’ll let them take her away!” Mum shouts on the bottom floor. “Stupid bitch…” I swear she just muttered.

See? That’s why Kitara will never stop cursing like an adult.

“Finish playing with your dolls.” I tell her and press my back against the bed.

I stare up at the ceiling, already missing RJ.

•

RJ

“Is this all the stuff you brought?” JR asks me.

When he looks at me like that, he reminds me of our old man. And then our old man reminds me of Mama and Layla. Fuck, I can’t move on. I feel like an immobile rock.

“You listening?”

I nod and sigh. “Yeah. It’s all we got left.”

“Alright.” JR gives the guys the bag of ‘candies,’ collecting each of their money while scoping up and down the street.

The guys look to be in their late teens, early twenties, and early thirties.

“You didn’t get that from me.” JR tells the guys, lifting his cap and rubbing his head.

“Thanks. We’ll hit you up if we need anything more,” the leader, Rocky Crow, says, before he begins to leave out of the deplorable yard, along with his crew.

JR and I watch as they reverse out of the lot and speed down the street.

He looks over at me. “You’re cooking tonight.” He sniffs and rubs his nose, walking past me and inside.

I follow after him.

•

Mishka

At night, Trisha’s lover comes. He’s a bit thinner than all the other guys before. He has a faint beard and this very creepy smile.

I already don’t like him. Kitara doesn’t like him either. She says he looks like a skinny ex-convict. I tell her it’s wrong to judge people.

But when he says at dinner: “I got this tattoo in prison. Man, the geezers came at me like a flood. Fought my way out…” He grins proudly, while Mum watches him as though he’s serving for our country.

—I just know, that Kitara was right…

I push the dry carrots around on my plate.

“Your big daughter is quiet…” He whispers to Mum after a while.

“Don’t mind her. Teenagers just want a first glimpse of cock and then they lose their minds.” Mum winks.

“But…but you said Mishka never gets any cock.” Kitara says, looking confused.

Mum’s boyfriend laughs. “Jesus Christ.”

“Stop it!” I yell at my sister.

“Don’t yell at me!” She screams back.

“Don’t yell at your sister, Mishka, I’ll let them take her away!” Mum says, pointing the hinges of her fork at me.

My eyes water as I glare at my sibling. Not that I’m angry at her for yelling at me. Just angry she’s growing up this way. Because of Trisha.

“She shouldn’t be cursing.” I say.

“Yeah, well you curse too. Let her curse if she wants.” Mum pushes her stiff hair over her shoulders. “My God, soon she’ll be riding cocks, too. She’s gonna grow up one day…” She shrugs and smiles at Sanford, her man.

Sanford chuckles and looks at me. “Your mum’s a piece of work. Should have known since she cooks good nosh. Don’t listen to her. Kids swear all the time. They grow out of it.”

I swallow. “Well, I hope she grows out of being a whore too…” I mutter and get up, walking out of our living room/dining area.

“I’m gonna kick that bitch out one day…” I hear Mum mutter.

Sanford laughs. “She takes after you.”

I enter my room and sit myself on my bed. I stare down at my plastic sandals, wrinkling my toes.

9 I laugh. “Woah.”

⎈

Mishka

I laugh. “Woah.”

“They’re gonna fight, look, look…” RJ grins, watching as the two fishes leap for the specks of food.

They bump heads, and we chuckle.

“Yo.” JR knocks at the cracked door and comes inside.

RJ looks around as JR comes to sit on the old couch he has in his room. He looks worried as he drags big ring-clad fingers over his face. He looks exactly like RJ. Just older. He’s twenty-six.

“Yo. You remember Ruffles?” JR asks. “He used to always buy drugs.”

“Yeah.” RJ sits on the bed, giving his brother all his attention.

“They caught him. Dealing drugs. There was a shoot-out. Bobbies killed him.”

RJ’s jaw flexes. I silently lower myself beside him and look between the both of them.

JR covers his face. “Another victim. I’ve fucked up someone else again…” He shakes his head. “I don’t think I can do this anymore…”

RJ stares at the ground, his nose flaring and trembling.

“You guys don’t have to do this anymore…” I say softly. “You can be great. You both can be so awesome…”

JR peeks up and then looks over at RJ. “You’re lucky to have her. Wish I had someone this optimistic…” He chuckles and gets up, walking out of the room and closing the door.

I look over at RJ. “You know, right? How awesome you can be?”

He shakes his head.

“What?” I ask.

“I don’t know…” He sighs. “I’ve done this for so long…I’ve always been doing this. If I stop now…it’d be like: why stop now? Why didn’t I stop before my mum and Layla offed themselves? It’s like…it’s too late to stop. Things have done fucked up.”

“It’s never too late…” I whisper. “Trust me…”

He looks down and closes his eyes.

I press my hand against his back, rubbing him there. “Really, RJ…”

He lifts his gaze and stares me in the eyes. His jaw flexes. A silence passes between us. Then he whispers:

“I’m really gonna fuck you this time…”

I swallow and my heart races.

He slowly leans in and presses his lips on top of mine. Unlike the first time we kissed, this time is gentler.

He presses himself against me so I lie flat. He continues to kiss me, his mouth speeding up as he slips his tongue into my mouth. Our tongues connect and intertwine. His mouth tastes like gum and the freshness of his saliva.

He puts himself between my legs, and dips his fingers under his T-shirt, pulling it over his head. I watch him as I breathe heavily, my mouth agape.

He stares me in the eyes, the first fierceness I’d seen inside of them when we first kissed, returning. He looks angry. But he isn’t.

He dips his fingers around the waistband of my jeans and tugs them down. Along with my blue lace panties. He bought them for me. Or else I’d be wearing my days-of-the-week ones.

I lift my knees as he takes them off, throwing them on the ground.

Music starts playing downstairs. Some form of New England rap. It’s convenient, like JR knows what’s happening up here…

Or bound to happen…

RJ spreads my knees, still having that fiery look in his eyes as he starts to undo his belt. He zips his pants down but doesn’t take them off.

With his gaze fixed on me, he leans over and spoons my mouth in a tender kiss. His hand shoves my blouse up my chest, and he covers one of my boobs again. He squeezes it, and I can’t help but moan. It always gets me high when he touches me there.

His hand leaves my chest and he trails down my belly button and to my panties. He pops his mouth from mine, salivating his lips and sinking his teeth in the bottom one as he slides his whole hand over my private place.

I stare up at him, and can’t help the shiver that runs down my arms as he cups my sex in his rough hand.

“You shave…” He mentions.

This morning. Before I came over. I sat on the bathroom counter top and tried to shave there. Trisha almost caught me. She just pushed the door right open and walked right in. “Ma!” “I’m only taking a piss, girl!” Not sure I even did it well. There’s probably still spikes of razor-like hair there.

“You’re wet…” He whispers, gauging my reaction as he rubs up and down my intimate area. I am; I can hear the sounds of my sex filling the room, filling my ears, filling his ears.

He flattens his wrist at the top, while his five fingers stroke up and down my slit. My breath catches in my throat.

“Is this good?” He asks, and I nod feverishly.

“Y-yeah…” I pant.

He removes his hand from me, puts his four fingers inside of his mouth, and then places his wet fingers back where they were. Each time he rubs me, the tips of his fingers sink into the spongy tip of my opening. He’s not entering me, just stroking me tenderly from top to bottom mostly.

“Ugh…” I close my eyes tightly.

“There you go again…” He whispers. “Acting like your ex didn’t do this…”

“H-He didn’t…” I breathe, my shoulders caving into my neck as pleasure wracks my body. I feel like I’m running a fever.

“Too bad for him…” His hand leaves me suddenly, and my eyes open as he positions himself over me. His legs nudge my thighs apart, and he reaches down, lifting his mattress and grabbing a shiny packet.

He rips it and climbs off the bed, tugging his pants and boxers down. His length pops free, and my throat dries.

I don’t think it’ll fit at all…

He looks good under the orange light of his room. His body reflecting through his home aquarium. He looks faultless; he has a flawless physique. He should really model…

He climbs on the bed and puts his knees inside each side of my thighs. He kisses me again, his hands coming down to rub my thighs and open them farther.

And then, I feel the cool area of his tip pushing against my slit. I close my eyes tightly.

His jaw clenches and he tries to slip more of himself inside. It hurt badly, but I don’t groan or say anything.

I reach up and grip his shoulders, tipping my head back.

“You’re tight…” He breathes. “Like a virgin…” He sounds a little confused.

He tries to get more of himself inside. “Fuck…” When he finally pops past the barriers, he starts to slide in and out of me.

“This was bound to happen…” He rasps against my ear, his butt lifting and falling at each plunge of him. I moan and press my forehead against his shoulder. “When you treat me like that. Like I’m not shit…”

He starts to deliver hard and firm thrusts. They’re fast, unyielding, and the bed screeches and cries, jolting from its place at each stroke of his hard hips.

I bury my face deeper into his skin. Pleasure cascades all over my body, mixed with a hint of pain. But it feels too good to care.

I hug his back—holding on as he drives himself inside of me, pulls out, only to drive back in. Drilling me completely.

I can’t keep quiet. Moans spill off my mouth.

“Told you I’d fuck you, didn’t I?” He breathes, sweat bathing his neck and forehead. “Told you if you didn’t stop…didn’t stop being here…didn’t stop coming around…that I’d fuck you…that I’d fuck you hard.”

The bed screeches, slamming against the wall. The rap music blasts downstairs.

My toes curl.

“You’re so pretty. So fucking pretty. You’re not stupid. You’re smart. So fucking smart, it’s attractive…” He plummets into me, over and over and over and over. The bed feels like it’ll break in half, bending at the middle—where our bodies are joining repeatedly.

He leans up slightly and presses his hands into the bed on either side of me. The position causes his hips to slap against my thighs. The sound of our wet skins hangs in the air, and RJ gazes me dead in the eyes.

“Your pussy feels good…you know that?” He closes his eyes, and I shut mine too.

I start to shake, so much that my thighs lift off the bed. RJ delivers two long and harder strokes and then he’s swelling inside of me. Something warm fills the condom, and then he collapses on top of me.

I breathe heavily, feeling the slipperiness of his rubbered length. He eases up and slides out of me.

•

I lie there, staring at the roof, my eyes threatening to get wet.

“You lied to me…” He mutters, his face buried in his hands. “What’s that on my sheets?”

I don’t say anything.

I know what’s there.

It’s the reason I can’t move.

“Answer me, Mishka!” He turns his face to glare at me. He looks really angry now, not passionate this time…

I don’t look at him.

“Blood.” He says. “That’s blood on my sheets. You’re a virgin. You were a virgin!”

I close my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? After I fucked you like…” He shakes his head and looks away. “Everything is a lie then? You didn’t have an ex.”

“I did…” I sit up, “I do. Okay?”

“Really? You said he used to take care of you. Send you to school. There’s no way he wouldn’t have had sex with you. From what you told me, he isn’t a great guy, so just stop lying!” RJ gets up, running his fingers through his hair.

“What’s the big deal? What’s wrong if I was a virgin?” I ask, reaching up to wipe my eyes.

“Because it’s not right, okay?! It’s not right!”

“What’s not right?”

He covers his face, using the same hands to push his hair back. “He never had sex with you?”

“We-We did things, but…but it’s not vaginal. He…”

RJ pauses. I don’t want to talk about Rico, and the sick things he was into.

“He says he can’t come from vaginal sex, so he…”

“I don’t wanna know!” RJ says and turns away. “Fuck. Keep that to yourself.”

I sniffle and reach down, grabbing my pants and panties off the floor.

“I’m really sorry…” I say.

“Sorry for what?” He meets my eyes. “For lying? You never said anything.”

“You didn’t ask.”

“I didn’t ask? You acted like…” He stops. “You made it seem like you’ve done a lot…you seemed so sexually experienced.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong if I was a virgin. I wanted it. You liked it!”

“Whatever. You’re sick like your ex.”

“Shut up!” I scream at him. “You know nothing!”

“You’re right! I know nothing. What else should I know? Huh? We kiss, we fucked, and now there’s blood on my sheets!”

“I’ll fucking wash them!”

“Don’t. Don’t. I fucked you on Layla’s sheets…” He shakes his head.

“I’m not worthy, am I?” I ask quietly.

He looks away.

My lips quiver and I ignore the ache in my sex and climb off the bed. I put my panties and pants on, ignoring the blood on my thighs. “I never wanna see you again.”

“I never wanna see you again either!”

“Don’t worry!” I scream and grab my bag, running to the door. I open it, bumping into JR.

“You okay, Mishka?”

“I hate your brother so much!” I say as I run around him and down the stairs, leaving their house.

10 I sit on…

⎈

RJ

I sit on my bed, staring at the floor.

JR sits on the sofa, across from me.

“She was a virgin…” I mutter. “Do you know how hard I fucked her?”

JR leans back. “So you run her home?”

I shake my head, bending over and burying my face inside of my hands. “I just don’t want to fuck her up. I don’t want to fuck anyone else up…”

“How will you fuck her up? She’s eighteen. She lost her virginity, it’s okay.” He opens his hands, “she would someday anyway. No one really gives their virginity to someone they’ll be with for a lifetime.”

“I like her.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

I sigh and sit upright. I turn my eyes to the pool of blood on my bed. “I-I went too hard. That’s what’s wrong.”

JR chuckles, his shoulders jerking.

I snap my head to the idiot. “What’s so funny?”

“Didn’t sound like she hated it.” He bends his lips and gets up, walking out of the room.

••

Mishka

“You’re back! Please hang out those laundry! Sanford is taking me out tonight!” Mum calls as I hurry upstairs. “You hear me, whore?!”

I shove the bathroom door open and go inside, slamming it shut.

“Hey! Be careful! It’s gonna fall off!” She yells.

I drop my backpack on the ground and quickly pull my pants and underwear down.

Too much blood.

My eyes water as I ensure the bath’s drain is chained, grab the full bucket by the toilet, and empty the water into the bath.

I grimace and put the bucket down then climb into the bath.

I’m a little scared. Just a little scared. There’s a lot of blood. And I’m not sure if it should be like this.

So I do the stupidest thing, I cry.

My shoulders, lined with chill bumps, quiver as I hug my knees. While the water changes from clear to a light pink, I cry even harder.

Trisha opens the door without consent.

“Go away and leave me alone!” I yell at her. Can she stop opening the door on me whenever she feels like it?!

“Oh…” She breathes, eyeing the water, her hand on her waist. “No wonder you shaved this morning…” Then she smiles. “Just some dick. Not the end of the world…”

I glare at her.

“Rico says you two have never done it. Found it hard to believe. But he was being honest…” She sighs and walks inside. “Must have been a big one, huh?” She chews on her lip, grinning.

I hate her so much.

I grab my liquid soap bottle and toss it at her.

“Come on, shower and let me braid your hair.” She turns and walks out, shutting the door close. “Finally, my daughter has got some nice dick!”

•

“Sanford says he likes women who can braid hair.” Trisha smiles. “Pretty sexy, he says. You know, back in the days he used to sport cornrows? He’s half-Mexican. And boy, he had girls going crazy…they’re still going crazy, but, you know…”

I stare at myself in the dresser mirror as she braids my hair into two cornrows. I found it weird that she was being nice, doing something for me, but it’s only because of Sanford.

“Aw, you look like my little dumpling again.” She pats my hair.

Little dumpling. She used to call me that when Dad was alive. She must really be in a good mood.

“He’s here! Sanford’s here!” Kitara chirps as she comes to the door.

Sanford is behind her. In his eighties T-shirt and jeans.

“Oh, you braiding hair?” He says, and Trisha chuckles sheepishly. It makes me sick.

“Yeah, it’s been a while, but you know…my baby girl lost her virginity, so.”

“Mum.” I glare at her through the mirror.

Sanford looks uncomfortable as he looks between my mom and me.

“Virginity? Does that mean she’s gotten cock?” Kitara asks.

I shoot her a glare, and she purses her lips.

“Why, yes.” Trisha puts elastic band at the end of my hair. “It means she got some cock. A big one too.” Mom winks.

“Really? Really?” Kitara’s face lights up, and I close my eyes. I hate this. I hate my life. I hate everyone. I hate RJ.

“Wait for me downstairs, San. Until I finish taking care of my baby girls…”

She doesn’t take care of us.

“Alright.” Sanford looks almost concerned as he turns away and removes himself from the doorway.

“All done!” Trisha grins, holding the sides of my head. “Look at my baby girl!”

“I want one too! I want one too!” Kitara jumps up and down. I smile slightly.

“What have you achieved?” Mom asks my sister.

And my smile fades. Achieve? For her, is losing my virginity an achievement?

Not getting good grades? Not being the top of my class? But having sex is an achievement for her?

Mum brings her mouth to my ear. “I hope the boy who put his thing inside of you gave you money…” She whispers, acting like she doesn’t want my sister to hear, but she isn’t quiet enough.

She leans away, looking at me through the mirror, and I swallow down the burn in my throat.

“We don’t fuck without pay in here, okay?”

I don’t answer…

“If that’s the case, Sanford has lots of boys from his neighbourhood. They’re all packed…” She opens her mouth and winks all the side of her face. “If you know what I mean…so I could let him set you up on one of them.”

Sanford comes from Bayside. The boys there are all drug dealers. Not that I’m judging them. RJ deals too. But…he’s the different kind of them.

Although, judging how he cursed me out after we had sex, maybe he isn’t so different…

“Alright.” Trisha pats my back. “Get up. Kitara’s time.”

“Yay! Yay!” My sister bounces as I get up from the seat.

Mom puts her up. “You owe me on this one, okay?”

Kitara giggles as Mom tickles her sides.

Feeling disgusted, I make my way downstairs.

Sanford is sitting on the couch.

I walk across the room and to the fridge, pulling it open and grabbing a jug of milk. It’s almost finished, just a little drizzle at the bottom.

I glance behind me. Sanford is lounging back on the sofa with his long legs and arms. His elbows splay over the ridges. He juts his chin with a soft, greeting smile.

I don’t greet back. I just stare at him. Then I don’t know why but I cross the floors and make my way over to him. Still holding the jug of milk, I sit on the other end away from him.

He takes it as his invitation to talk to me. “Your ma is something else…” He says. “But I think she loves you…”

I look over at him. Maybe I need someone to talk to deep down. Maybe I feel so alone today.

I nod silently, trying to at least smile.

He doesn’t seem that bad. She’s had worst boyfriends.

But…

But none of them ever really dips their gaze to my legs. None of them ever looks at my thighs. Now the shorts I’m wearing feel like they aren’t there anymore.

He removes his elbows from the ridge and perches his lower arms against his knees. “If you want to talk with someone you can talk to me,” he says, peering suspiciously from under his lashes. His features and aura change. “I’ll be here for you, okay?”

I clench my jaw and look away. Without a word, I put the half-finished bottle of milk on the mini-table and make my way up to my room.