Oh, god! Who am I kidding? Rob had me so hot and bothered! My hormones were raging. I felt like a
bitch in heat. I stared at his pants, imagining what his penis looked like. You know, like how long and big
around it was. God, I sound like some desperate whore! Really, I'm not. I've never done anything before
with a guy. Rob's the first one I ever kissed, and I'm the first for him, too. It's the hormones that have me
wanting to jump his bones. God damn those fucking hormones! They make everything so complex! Right
now, though, I couldn't stop thinking of his dick; I wanted to do something with it: touch it, suck it, fuck
it – any god damn thing!
"Are you always this horny?"
Nope. I usually never was. I don't know why I went from horny to turned off to horny again. I hate that!
I just want my normal feelings back.
"No." I got up from the ground and took a few steps away from Rob. "It's just that you...you really
turned me on."
He got up and walked over to me, encircling me with his arms. “One day, we’re going to make love and
it’s going to be so amazing and magnificent.”
Aaaand he used those two damn words to describe sex: amazing, magnificent. “Amazing and
magnificent? I sighed. “How could it be that great?”
“Oh, you silly girl.” He squeezed his arms tight around me. “On an emotional level. Love’s the most
amazing and magnificent thing possible.”
“Love and sex are two completely different things,” I replied, looking down at his arms clung around my
waist.
“I know, Alisha,” he whispered, his arms squeezing even tighter. “But I’m not talking about just sex; I’m
talking about making love. You know, sex with someone you love with all your heart and can’t get
enough with.”
“Can we now?” I smiled the best smile I could manage.
“No way, Alisha,” Rob said as he sighed. “You’re way too young. We’re not doing anything sexual till
you’re at least eighteen. I could be charged with statutory rape if we did anything at the age you are
now.”
“But, age of consent in Washington is sixteen!”
“You’re not even sixteen. Anyway, sixteen is still a minor; your parents could have my ass thrown in jail.”
“If nobody knows about it….how can it be illegal?” I winked.
“As much as I’d like to be able to do stuff with you, I can’t,” he said with a smile. “I’m trying my hardest
to resist, to remain well behaved, but you know, I’m only human. I have these strong urges to just totally
strip you and me down and just totally have animalistic sex. But I hold back those urges and hope they
go away, because I’m not ever going to do that! I’m better than that, Alisha. I’m not going to try and get
into your pants.”
Great, just great; Goth Boy would rather follow the law than what I say. I mean, my god! If I say yes
doesn’t that mean yes in the name of the law? Nope, of course not. I’m too young. I’m just a child. I have
no rights in consenting to anything sexual. We could do it but it could mean Rob being put behind bars if
my parents ever found out. My parents would most definitely have him charged for statutory rape if we
ever did it and they found out. That is if he made it out alive! My parents would kill a guy before they’d
let him touch me. Making out with their daughter? You’re dead. Jerking off to their daughter? You’re
dead times two. Deflowering their daughter? There won’t be even an ash of you left. They’ll have
already killed you two trillion fucking times. That’s why I felt bad for Rob: if he knew what they’d do to
him for even just the minor things he and I did, he wouldn’t have even touched me with a five-hundred-
foot pole.
But I wanted to do it so badly. Like, sooo badly. “We can do it tonight at my house,” I told Rob. “After
we eat dinner with my parents.”
My parents wouldn’t even be able to get through a dinner with him. They’d start freaking out the
minute they saw him. I grabbed my cell phone from my pocket and dialed up my home number. My
mom answered.
“Hey, Mom,” I squeaked into the phone. “Guess what?”
“What?” she responded. I think she was worrying about what I’d be telling her.
“I got asked out by a boy,” I said with a stupid little squeal that sounded just like a pig’s.
“Well.” I could hear my mom grinning. “Have him come over for dinner so your father and I can meet
him.”
“You’ll love him, Mom,” I lied, smirking as I thought of her reaction. “He has morals.”
“I’m excited to meet him!”
I chuckled in my head because she was ignorant about what was to come. She would not be excited to
meet him. But I didn’t care. I mean, how would her opinion be valid to me? That Botox Barbie bitch has
had more nip tucks than I could possibly remember. Oh, and she’s a whore to botox, obviously. Oh,
yeah, and she’s a stupid materialistic bitch who doesn’t give a flying shit about anyone who is less
fortunate than her. She’s a plastic surgeon who just sees dollar signs instead of patients. Okay, so she
does try her very best to perform her cosmetic surgeries to the best of her knowledge and skill, but still:
she likes the money she gets handed for the nip tucks those suckers want.
Why the hell was I doing this? Why was I setting up a dinner that could potentially – no, that would – go
wrong and turn into a complete disaster that would probably be totally unfixable? To piss off those
fuckers I’m forced to call parents. Wait, eighty-six that idea! That wasn’t the reason! I’m just getting too
far ahead of myself. The real reason: maybe they’d give him a chance? Maybe they’d actually find him
pretty cool or interesting or smart or something? Maybe they’d approve of us going out? Maybe they’d
find him kinda cute…kinda the right one for me? Maybe…just maybe…they’d listen to my reasoning
behind loving Rob. He was the one who helped me get As and Bs in a couple of classes. He was the one
who wasn’t looking to get into any girl’s pants. He was the one who wanted a committed relationship.
And if it weren’t for all the shit he had done to him throughout his seventeen, almost eighteen, years of
life, he’d be one hot guy who girls would swoon over; so he and I could have the “beautiful”
grandchildren they wanted. He was the one.
“He’s really smart, Mom, and tall, too,” I replied back to my mom on the phone.
“And he’s normal, right? He isn’t one of those freaks I point out?”
No, Mother Dearest, he isn’t normal. But he is “one of those freaks” you point out to me, telling me to
never even talk to, let alone make friends with or, god forbid, date! I thought I’d fall for the school
hottie, but instead, I fell for the school freak. He’s way better than those wannabe popular preps at my
school who think that Abercrombie and Fitch, American Eagle, and Hollister are the brands of clothes
that preps are supposed to wear. A true prep would wear something like Ralph Lauren or Lacoste or
Vineyard or some brand like that. I was at a public school, and the preps at my school were just a bunch
of stuck up, snotty wannabes. Rob had way more personality than all those pieces of shits put together!
But, of course, he was off limits in the minds of my parents because he was a fucking freak!
“Yeah, Mom,” I lied with a whisper. “He’s as, uh, normal as can…be…”
“Good,” she said as she breathed a sigh of relief. “I was worried he was some sort of weirdo.”
“Yeah, well, he’s not, Mom.” I sighed. “Anyway, we’ll be there in….oh, like, fifteen minutes.”
The library was a mile and a half from my house. It usually took me twenty five to forty minutes to walk,
depending upon how tired or lazy I was. Rob’s house was a mile from the library, but in the opposite
direction of my house. Our school was just across the street from the library. We lived in a small town,
so places were close by. My parents owned a three story house on twenty acres right on a lake, with a
river going through the property. We lived in a real nice area. They used to own a McMansion in this
gated community on the beach in L.A., but they got sick and tired of all the people and traffic, and
wanted to live on acreage in a small town somewhere up North. So, they picked the sleepy town of
Ghost Forest, Washington.
I turned to Rob and smiled. “My mom said she and my dad want to meet you.” I took his hand into mine
as I pulled myself to my feet. He rose to his feet and accompanied me as I walked out of the cemetery
and back to his house.
We got to his car and got in. It no longer had all the wrappers and trash on the ground or in the back. He
must have cleaned it while I was sleeping. As we both buckled our seatbelts, Rob looked over at me.
“Alisha.” He took my hand into his. “Do you think your parents will ask about my parents?”
“They definitely will.” I looked out the window.
“And?”
“And what?”
“Well, what do I say to them?”
“Maybe talk about successes they’ve achieved or something.”
“They’ve achieved nothing,” he said as he sighed. “I come from at least three generations of drug
addicts. My mom dropped out of school before she got to 9th grade. My dad, who’s also my grandpa,
was only fifteen when my mom was born, and he dropped out of school before 11th grade. Yeah, and my
grandma? She didn’t even get to 7th grade.”
“Why were they all so young when they had kids?”
“Because they’re irresponsible dumbasses who don’t care about their children,” he said as he scowled.
“I mean, even my great grandparents and great great grandparents had their first kids before they were
sixteen.”
“Well, just lie and say something good about them.”
“Like what?”
“Like…I don’t know…something like your mom being a secretary, and your dad….your dad being a, uh,
employee at a law firm in another state.”
Rob laughed as he started the car engine and backed out of the driveway. “You’re funny, Alisha.”
“Funny? How was I funny?” I looked over at him, my eyebrows raised.
“Because,” he said as he turned on the stereo. “That’s one of the biggest lies ever. I mean, could you
even begin to imagine my parents getting that far?”
One of the biggest lies ever? Yeah, so is me telling you that my parents will like you. Could I imagine your
parents getting careers like that? No. A bitch like your mom wouldn’t even make it past the resume
screening.
“No,” I casually said, looking at my nails. “But they’ve never met them, so you don’t have to worry.”
“But they’ll one day wanna meet my parents, won’t they?”
Trust me, Rob, that’s not what you need to worry about. If I were you, I’d be worrying about you making
it past the front door. Your appearance will freak them out. Your walk? Please, oh sweet baby Jesus,
please try to walk as normally as you can – even if it hurts like hell. If they saw that walk of yours, my
parents would end things the second they started. One time when me and my mom were in this one
store, she saw this girl whose walk was like an opposite weirdness of Rob’s, and my mom started
cracking up and pointing it out to me. The girl heard the laughing and turned around. My mom waved
her hand at the girl and tried her hardest to smile as kindly as possible, all while whispering to me, “My
god, Alisha, that’s one of the ugliest girls I’ve ever seen.” I think the girl was ten or something. She had
an overbite and to make matters worse, she also had buck teeth. Her hair was a frizzy mess of dirty
blonde. Oh, and she was chubby. I remember my mom pointing that out about her.
“Alisha,” my mom said as she laughed. “If that girl gains anymore weight, she’ll be as fat as you.”
Yeah, thanks a lot, Mom. I can’t wait till the day I can slap you silly and make fun of your stupid ass!
God, I hate her.
I finally looked back over at Rob. “Don’t worry about it, Rob,” I said as I sighed. “Let’s just try to get
through the dinner first.”
Or rather, the front door. Heh. If we can get that far, then let’s hope to get past dinner. And if it gets
that far? Let’s hope you’ll be allowed to come over another time. If that happens…well, maybe we’ll
start looking into the whole my parents meeting your parents thingy. Till then, my dear, sweet Rob, keep
from getting your feelings hurt. My parents are as blunt as they come, and they’re not afraid to be rude.
I’m trying my hardest not to get my hopes up. There’s no use getting excited for an outcome whose
chances of happening are slim to none. Those parents of mine are stubborn as fuck and trying to get
them to see the light is like trying to get a boulder to smile at you. Boulders don’t smile. So there you go:
you now know how difficult that’d be. Okay, so it’s not even difficult: it’s impossible! Or wait… you
know, you could always draw or paint a smile on a boulder. Heh, glad I thought up that one! Now all I
need to do is try to use it on my parents. That there, though, isn’t an easy feat. I mean, is it even
possible? It’s not like I can come at my parents with a sharpie and draw a picture of Rob and a smiley
face on their brains, and expect them to all of a sudden be all like, “Oh my god, Alisha! Rob is the one!”
Wait, Alisha, you idiot! It was supposed to be metaphoric, not literal. Sometimes I’m a total idiot. No, a
lot of times. But I did come up with that pretty snazzy boulder smiley thingy metaphor, which is pretty
tight. I usually would be the last one to think up something creative like that. Hey, maybe Rob’s
smartness is somehow wearing off onto me or something? I sure hope so! I could sure use the smarts he
has. Maybe if I were as smart as him, my parents would actually be proud of me for something. If we
had kids, I really hope they’d take after his smartness, but not all the shitty traits he has haunting his
ancestry. Like, the addiction issues and mental things his family has going on.
I need to stop thinking so much. I looked up at Rob and smiled. “I can’t wait till I’m 18,” I whispered,
barely loud enough to be heard.
He must have heard me, though, because he glanced over at me for a second. “Maybe we’ll get hitched
on your birthday,” he joked.
I grinned. “Hey, it sounds like a plan to me.”
“That’s still a ways off, sweetie. Till then, we’ll have to make sure things work out. I mean, it’s going to
take a lot of effort to get there.”
“I know, Rob,” I said as I stared out the window. “I know. But it’ll be worth it.”
Chapter Two: Meeting the Parents
Once we arrived at the gate of my family’s house, Rob parked his car in one of the parking areas outside
of the property. We both got out of his car, and I punched in the numbers on the security system gate.
Wrought iron fencing was all around their property. Huge shrubs were all along the front portion of the
fencing. My parents liked their privacy – a lot. When the twelve-foot high gates opened up, we both
walked inside. The house was a three story Neocolonial styled type home with beige faux stone siding
and a lot of windows and stuff. Because the house was right by the lake, and there was a vast span of
acreage, the driveway was long; when you finally got to the large driveway of the house, you were
greeted with this large, expensive marble fountain that split off the driveway into two sections.
“Wow,” gasped Rob as he stood staring at the fountain, his fingers stroking at its white marble exterior.
I laughed. It was funny to see how impressed he was over just the fountain. “C’mon,” I grabbed his arm,
yanking on it firmly. “Let’s go to the front door.”
Because I wanted to surprise my parents, allowing them to see the two of us together, I decided to…you
know, spice things up by ringing the doorbell. I mean, can you just imagine the looks on their faces as
they opened the door and saw the weirdest guy they’ve ever seen with their daughter? Ha! I’d love to
see that. So, we walked up to the door and I rang the doorbell. And you know who answered?
The yummy, sexy, hot, totally doable Varsity Football Quarterback, Jake Connors. He was the six-foot-
three, all-American boy with blonde hair, blue eyes and sun kissed skin who earned straight As and who
had a football scholarship to Yale University. He was every girl’s dream guy. He was also a devoted
Christian who promised himself, his family and God that he’d stay pure till marriage. He had never
smoked, done any drugs, or tried alcohol. And as you’d guess, he was one of the most popular guys at
our school, but he was one of the classy ones. You know, like the only kind of popular teen who
deserves his popularity. It was due to his friendliness, kindness, smarts, and of course, looks and the
fact he was the big football star at our school. But can you believe such a perfect guy ended up in this
small town with these really plain parents? When I first met him, I just thought, “Wow! This guy must
have totally gorgeous parents.” I was totally wrong. His mom was short and overweight, and his dad was
tall and skinny. They weren’t ugly by any means, but they definitely weren’t textbook beauties.
“Hey, Alisha,” grinned Jake as he swooped down to hug me. “How’ve you been?”
“I—I’ve been…okay,” I said as awkwardly as possible. My arms reached around his muscular core, my
fingers buckling together.
A few seconds passed and the hug was done. He stood up straight and looked over at Rob. “You must be
Robert, right?” I could tell by the look on his face that he was trying his hardest to keep an open mind
about Rob, but I could also tell it was hard for him to do so.
“Yeah,” Rob said as he fiddled around with his fingers, his eyes peering down at the welcome mat. “And
you’re –“
“Jake,” he said as he smiled, his right hand grasping Rob’s and shaking it firmly. “Jake Connors.”
“You’re the school –“
“Quarterback,” interrupted Jake before Rob was able to finish.
“Right,” said Rob, his eyes still completely glued to the damn welcome mat. I swear, it’s like he was in
love with the stupid thing!
“They’re waiting for you guys,” Jake ushered me and Rob inside, a bright smile still on his face.
Once we stepped inside, he pulled me aside. “Alisha,” he whispered in my ear, his eyes staring into
mine. “Why are you with him?” He pointed directly at Rob.
I looked over at Rob. The poor boy looked like a spooked child out of place. His attenuated body was
inched up against a wall; long, slender fingers, with nails painted black, nervously caressed at the five
o’clock shadow on his tired, pale face; and big, baby blue eyes darted around, looking from the two
spiral staircases to the player piano to the statues and to the paintings and portraits that flooded the
walls of the front entrance. I could just imagine him whimpering. Wanting his toys. Wanting his security
blanket. Anything that reminded him of the place he knew best – home. I don’t know whether he was
nervous about being in a fancy house for the first time ever, or meeting my parents, or Jake Connors
being here, but whatever it was, it really bugged me. I hated to see Rob so spooked…so isolated… so
scared.
“He’s my boyfriend,” I told Jake, annoyed by his question.
I took a few steps in the opposite direction of him. “Hold on.” Jake grabbed my shoulders, pulling me
back toward him. “Your boyfriend? He’s your boyfriend?”
“Yeah,” I grinned, looking up at Jake. He was shocked by my response. “Rob’s my boyfriend.”
“Alisha.” Jake shook his head. “How could you? You knew I liked you.”
Wow, Jake. That must have taken a hell of a lot of courage to admit. I mean, come on! The school hottie
dating a loner? Get with the program, man! You’re perfect in almost every way. The only girl for you
would be a female version of yourself. Graduate at the top of your high school class, go to Yale, find a
girl, finish college, get married, have a perfect family. You deserve it, Jake. Really, you do. I’m not even
being sarcastic. You’re such a wonderful guy and had I not already met Rob, I’d literally have fainted
upon seeing you in my house, answering my door. You were my and every other girl’s dream guy, but
now my guy was the school freak. I guess I sort of grew out of my fantasies and decided I probably
wanted a guy who had some life experience under his belt and wasn’t this fucking perfect Ken doll who
had everything going for him. You and I are just too far different in our personalities and interests to
make things work. Weirdness is hot to me, and Jake, you’re not weird at all. You’re far from it.
You’re…you’re…perfect! I no longer crave a guy like that anymore. The only guy I crave now is that
weirdass Goth guy, and guess what? I’ve got him! He’s mine. All mine! Goodbye dreamy, hot, totally
doable Ken doll Jake; and hello weird, pale, skinny Goth boy Rob.
“I was just here to drop off something for you.” Jake slipped an envelope into my left hand.
“Thanks.” I smiled, my right hand reaching up for his. “Are you staying for dinner?”
“No.” He smiled back to me. “I’ve got a lot to do tonight, but I’ll see you at school tomorrow, sweetie.
Okay?”
“Bye, Jake.” I watched him exit the front door.
“Bye, Alisha,” he replied back, turning around a bit to the left to look back at me and wave. “See ya
tomorrow!”
I shoved the envelope into my backpack before carelessly throwing the bag against the staircase closest
to me. I walked up to Rob, grabbing his left hand and bringing him back to reality. “What’s wrong?” I led
him down the long hall, passing the Den, Family Room, downstairs bathroom, Entertainment room, Sun
room, Library, and Office on the way there. He said nothing in response to my question, and I decided
not to push a response from him. We went to the room on the left – the kitchen. The room adjacent was
the dining room with two tables: one seating six people; the other seating ten.
“Mom,” I announced, trying to make our presence known. “We’re here!”
She had a glass plate of whole roasted chicken in her hands. She looked up at me and then her gaze
turned to Rob. Upon seeing him, she gasped and dropped the plate of chicken. The glass shattered into
hundreds of little pieces.
“Excuse me,” she heaved as she hurried her long legged, short torso body toward the kitchen pantry to
quickly grab a broom and dustpan.
I looked up at Rob, carefully eyeing his face. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were big – big with
fear. He must have figured out that what spooked my mom was him. I never would have thought my
mom would have freaked out that much! It was pretty funny, though. But I didn’t laugh one bit. I held
Rob’s hand, caressing at the scarred skin on his wrist. I reached my right arm around his back,
entrapping his body, and at the same time, trying to bring it as close as possible to mine.
“Don’t worry,” I whispered lovingly to Rob. “Something just scared her.”
“It was me.” He looked down at the ground, frowning.
Once my mom came out of the pantry, I walked up to her. “Mom, this is Robert,” I said as I pointed at
him, smiling. “He’s…he’s my boyfriend.”
My mom said nothing. Her dark hazel green eyes coldly stared at Rob. “Him?” she pointed, her voice and
right hand shaking slightly.
“Yeah. I mean, who else did you expect?”
“I thought Jake was the boy who asked you out,” she said, a few tears running down her cheeks. I think
they were tears of disappointment. Of unhappiness. Of ‘oh my god, what the fuck is my daughter on?!’
“Nope,” I said, looking at a tress of her shoulder length waves of rich auburn red hair.
“Alisha,” she hissed, one of her porcelain colored arms grabbing mine. “These jokes aren’t funny.”
But it wasn’t a joke. The tall, skinny, pale boy who was right up against my side was really my boyfriend.
He wasn’t some joke gag I had waiting for my mom. He was the real deal. But I guess I’ve joked my
mom out of her mind for far too long because she didn’t believe me.
“Alisha, I’m sick and tired of your stupid jokes,” she scowled at me. “Where’s the boy you said we’d
meet?”
Well, Mother Medusa, if you listened to anything I said, he’s right in front of you. You couldn’t miss him.
He’s not a joke, either. He’s the guy I’ve been crushing on behind your back. But now, you stupid bitch,
you get to meet your worst nightmare: a freak. I hope you enjoy dinner, Mother, because I know I will.
“He’s the one, Mom,” I said, grinning.
I think she was ready to go batshit crazy. I brought to dinner her worst fear: a Gothic freak. Or in her
terms: a Goth freakazoid. She never really liked those Goths; she thought they were creepy and weird.
Well, they are weird, but that’s what makes them unique. She hated all black clothing. And makeup on a
guy? Forget it! And piercings? Those were only for the ears of girls and women. Oh, and the biggest
reason she didn’t like them? They’re too into the morbid side of things. My mom loved pastels and light
colors. She liked to bring things to life, not dazzle them with dark, putrid death. She liked classical and
rock, not metal or industrial or whatever kind of music they listened to. She was this total bright, flowery
bitch who people thought was a good person because they didn’t know what she was really like. They
didn’t have to live with her.
But before her stood a species so rare and dark…and weird and tall and skinny and…really weird. His
name was Rob and his subspecies was Goth. My poor mom. She had to face one of her worst fears: a
Goth with her daughter.
“Unbelievable,” my mom whispered with disgust as she shook her head.
“Can we at least get through the dinner before he has to leave?” I looked up at my mom with puppy dog
eyes.
“Fine, but I have to make another main course,” she whispered, pointing at the broken glass and now
tainted whole roasted chicken. “Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes.”
“Okay,” I replied, grinning at my mom. “Thanks!” I gave her a hug – something that I rarely ever did.
I rushed over to Rob, grabbing his hand, and led him out of the kitchen and down the hall. We took one
of the spiral staircases upstairs and walked down the long hall till we reached my room. I yanked open
the door and pulled him in, closing the door and locking it.
“We have thirty minutes,” I told Rob as I pushed him onto the queen sized bed with lavender colored
sheets. I undid the button and zipper on his jeans and yanked them off.
I stepped back from the foot of the bed and centered myself with Rob. He watched excitedly as I
unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans and slowly slid them down from off my hips. Upon pulling them
completely off, I walked up to the foot of the bed and crawled onto the mattress. I hovered my body
over Rob’s. I lowered my hips and grinded mine slowly against his. “Excited yet?” I asked, my eyes gazing
into his. The answer was obvious: I could feel his hard on brushing against my panty covered crotch.
My hands worked to the hems of his boxers, trying to slowly yank them down; Rob grabbed at the hems
and yanked them up. “Take them off,” I demanded, this time yanking on them hard.
“No,” he replied with a sigh as he yanked them up again. He grabbed a hold of my hips and pushed them
away from his. “Stop it, Alisha.”
“Your dick’s hard,” I said, pushing my hips back toward his. “You want it. You want to fuck me.”
Rob shoved me to the side of the bed. “Alisha,” he threatened. “I’m going to leave if you keep this up!”
I couldn't help but sob. He totally turned me down. Was I unattractive to him? Did he find me ugly?
Why'd he go from excited to pushing me away? He made me feel so ugly and unworthy, like I wasn't
good enough for him.
He noticed the tears. "Why are you crying?" he asked me in a whispering voice, his hands grabbing my
shoulder.
"Am I too ugly for you?" I asked angrily as I continued to sob.
"What?"
"I'm ugly, aren't I?"
He sighed. "Stop it, Alisha. Stop being a drama queen," he replied with frustration. "You damn well know
why I stopped it."
"Because you think I'm ugly," I cried out.
Rob grabbed one of my hands and squeezed it. "Obviously not true," he tried to assure me. "You turn
me on so easily."
"Then why'd you stop?"
"You know why."
"I thought you'd be in heaven having a girl all over you."
"I am, but not now. Not at this age. Not till marriage."
"Till marriage?" I hissed.
"I promised myself that I'd be the first to graduate; the first to not be a teen parent; and to remain a
virgin till marriage."
"Well, promises are meant to be broken," I said in a snobby tone.
"No they aren't," he replied. "I'm not having any kind of sex with you till marriage."
"You're such a prude," I scowled, turning away from Rob.
"Better a prude than a player."
"Can't we at least cuddle?"
He wrapped his arms around me. "As long as it doesn't involve crotches, then sure."
"You're weird, Rob."
"So I've been told."
"You're a walking contradiction."
"I have morals, Alisha. Through thick and thin, I'll keep to them. I'm not a user; I'm a good guy."
I looked down at Rob’s legs: they were skinny and as white as a pair of legs could come, with scars on
the insides and outsides of his thighs. A moderate amount of long, coarse black hair covered his legs;
mainly the lower portion. Taking both my hands, I slowly caressed them up his thighs until I reached his
hips: one hand went to the left of his hips and the other to the right, sliding under his shirt, and up to his
belly – which was the meeting spot of the two hands. His eyes were closed and he lay there frigidly as
my hands worked connectively to caress his body all over.
I stopped touching Rob, and slid my body next to his and lay there. He opened up his eyes and gazed at
me, smiling shyly.
“What’s your type?” I asked.
“My type?”
“Yeah, you know – your type of girl.”
“Oh.” He grinned. “I don’t know.”
“How can you not know?”
“I don’t have a type,” he responded, his eyes fixated on mine. “All I know is you’re the only girl who
attracted my attention.”
“Why me? I’m plain. I’m fat. I’m ugly.”
Rob rolled his eyes. “Nonsense,” he said, taking my hand into his. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve
ever seen in my life!”
“Impossible! If I were so beautiful, then why do all the boys avoid me?”
“Jake Connors has a thing for you.”
I laughed. “No, he doesn’t. He just wants me ‘cause my parents are loaded.”
“And I bet lots of boys want you, but are too shy to admit it. You’re adorable and beautiful and lovely,
Alisha.”
“Why haven’t you had a girlfriend, Rob? You’re such a sweetheart.”
He looked down at the comforter. “I’m an ugly, skinny freak.”
“See, Rob, you do the same self put downs as I do.”
“No, I’m just speaking the truth. I get told that I’m an ugly, skinny freak… all the time.”
“But do you actually believe it?”
Rob just sighed. “Alisha, it’s hard not to believe something you’re told day after day,” he confessed to
me. “I know I’m ugly.”
“They’re just jealous, that’s why they say that.”
His head sulked. “No one’s jealous of me.”
I said nothing because, unfortunately, no one was jealous of him. I was hoping that my saying they were
would give him a self esteem boost; instead, it got me caught between a rock and a hard place on what
to say. I didn’t want to lie anymore than I already had. But would he suspect something if I just remained
silent?
“Even you agree,” he mumbled.
“So what you’re saying is, it only matters what they think of you? What about my opinion? Does it mean
anything for me to have found you attractive?”
Rob got up from my bed and grabbed his jeans. “It doesn’t matter,” he sighed as he pulled them on. “All
that matters is that we find one another attractive.”
“Exactly,” I said bitterly as I, too, got off the bed and found my jeans. I pulled them up and looked up at
him. “So stop saying you’re ugly.”
He walked up to me and threw his arms around my body. “I was a tick’s body length away from sliding
my hands into your panties.”
I reached my hands up to his face and grabbed it. “A tick’s body length away?” I asked, laughing, as I
pinched his cheeks.
“You know,” he replied, giggling, “instead of ‘this,’ I said ‘a tick’s body length away.’ Kinda catchy,
yeah?”
More like really fucking weird! I liked it, though. His weirdness was a turn on to me. Strange, but true.
“You’re cute, Rob,” I said, grinning. “You’re simply just the most adorable thing ever.”
“No, you’re the most adorable thing ever,” he said, a big, heart wrenching smile taking over his face.
“And Alisha?”
“Yeah?”
“I always flinch when anyone else touches me, but with you, I don’t flinch at all. I love it! I always
thought touch was bad – because the only touch I got hurt real badly – but it isn’t always. Yours makes
me get feel so warm and secure.”
I smiled shyly. “I didn’t realize I had a good touch…”
“You also get me real worked up,” he said, blushing.
“How? What do you find attractive about me?”
“Well, for starters,” he said, the index finger of his left hand twirling around a thick bunch of my long,
wavy hair. “I love red hair, and you’ve got long, thick waves of rich auburn red hair that I could touch
and feel and look at all day long. Secondly, you’ve got big brown eyes – and I love those! Thirdly, you’re
really pale, and although I love all skin colors, I love that we both share the shade of skin that most
others seem to hate – pale white. And fourthly, I really dig your body. You’re the only girl who has
gotten my attention.”
“That’s really weird that you dig my body,” I said, laughing nervously.
“Why? In order to be somewhat ‘normal,’ am I supposed to like skinny girls or something?”
“I’d say so; most guys like them.”
“That’s them. I’m me, Alisha.”
Before I was able to come up with something to say back, I heard pounding on my bedroom door.
“Alisha!” called my mom from outside the door. “Food’s ready.”
“Okay, Mom,” I called back. “We’re coming.”
Rob and I walked over to the door, and I opened it up. My mom was standing outside with her hands on
her hips. She looked up at Rob and stared at him coldly, and then she looked over at me. “You’re not
allowed to have boys in your room,” she told me sternly as she grasped my hand and began to lead me
down the stairs. “You two better not have been up to anything while you were in there.”
“We weren’t,” I replied, lying, as I signaled Rob to come down the stairs with us.
The three of us walked down the stairs and into the dining room. Once there, my mom turned around
and looked at Rob. “Your walk,” she said to him, looking down at his legs, “It’s such an abnormal one.”
“He has issues with his walk,” I told my mom, trying to get her off his back. “You don’t have to point it
out, Mom!”
“It bugs me,” she blurted. “It reminds of a gimpy toddler slash bird walk.”
Rob immediately froze up and turned at least five shades of red. “S-s-s-sorry,” he stuttered quietly as he
swallowed hard.
My mom began to laugh as she playfully slapped Rob’s chest. “Oh gosh, kiddo! You don’t need to
apologize for a physical abnormity.”
“Of course not,” I interrupted.
“You just need to realize that you’ll get made fun for it,” continued my stupid mother.
“Mom! That was really mean!”
“Well, Alisha, it’s the truth. What do you want me to do – tell the boy that everything’s fine and dandy,
and that nobody will say one word about his walk?”
“You could just keep your big mouth shut!”
Furrowing her brows at me, she loudly screeched, “As soon as you stop shoveling heaps of food down
yours!”
She reached out and grabbed at my stomach. “Look at the damage your gluttony has caused!”
Once I was done slapping her hand away, I angrily stormed off into the kitchen. Rob followed close
behind me, his hand reaching for one of mine. “Alisha,” he whispered once we got into the kitchen.
“I hate her,” I bitterly whispered back to him. “I hate her guts!”
Now it was Rob who grabbed at my stomach. “You’re perfect,” he complimented as he creepily stared
me down. “Don’t ever listen to her. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
Perfection was nonexistent. And I was miles away from close to perfection – which did exist. Somehow,
for some reason, Rob saying that made me smile. It made me want to grab a hold of the thicket of hair
on his head and pull it down toward me, so that I could kiss his lips. Even though he had lips nearly as
thin as a cat’s, I still loved how they looked on his face, and how nice they felt against mine. They were
such kissable lips!
I reached my hand up and began to rub Rob’s cheeks. “I really want to kiss you,” he said, lowering his
face toward mine. “Can I?”
Just as I was about to reply, my mom came into the kitchen and grabbed at my shoulders. “Dinner’s
ready. Your father’s already sitting down.”
The three of us walked out of the kitchen and to the table. My mom took her seat across the table from
my dad, and Rob and I sat each to one side of the table, because it was only a four-seater.
Landon and Julia Collins were my parents. Landon was, as you’d probably say, the babe magnet: tall,
muscular and tan with black hair styled just right and porcelain toilet white teeth. As much as I hated my
mom, I didn’t get why she bothered to stay with the guy. About a year ago, she caught him having an
affair with one of his employee’s daughters – the skanky hoe named Dana. That girl was barely legal,
too; only eighteen. After kicking out the girl and kicking his ass, my mom left to go to her friend’s for the
weekend. It was just Landon and me, and it really sucked… because honestly, I’d rather be around my
mom than all alone with my dad…
My mom served us the food on plates, and made sure that each was proportioned by calorie amount;
meaning: you only get the amount of calories you’re allotted for dinner. She was very OCD about
proportions and making sure everything was exact. If I ever even dared to try and get another leg of
chicken or another helping of corn, she’d yell at me and tell me that I’d just get fatter if I had extra.
Walking over to Rob with a bunch of food on the plate – more than everyone else’s – she set it down
and said, “You could use the extra food.”
The plate she gave me was the smallest of everyone’s – a measly amount of chicken, a spoonful of
mashed potatoes, and then a whole bunch of veggies. The only thing she would give me more of was
vegetables. Everything else, she counted every single calorie and then would subject X amount in order
to try and get me to lose weight.
She walked back to her seat and sat down. “I’m going to be gone for the weekend,” she said, glaring
over at me. “So it’s just going to be you and your father. Be good, okay?”
Just me and Landon. All alone for the entire weekend. No way, Jose! There’s no way I’m going to be left
alone again with him. Nuh uh! Nuh uh times one million. “But, can’t I go over to –“
“You don’t have any friends,” grumbled my mom. “And there’s no way you’re coming with me.”
I gave up. “Whatever.”
Across the table, Rob quietly devoured the food on his plate. Both my parents watched him, and it was
kind of strange to see them so fascinated by some skinny Goth guy eating food.
Landon looked over at me and frowned. “Alish, you know you’re not allowed to date yet.”
“You and Mom said I could, so what gives now?”
My mom narrowed her eyes. “Your father and I changed our minds.”
Chapter 3: The Rumor Train
Once the nobody loner, now the one being talked about all the time at school. People found out that I
was in a relationship with the school freak, and it caused nothing but trouble.
“Ew. That fat 9th grade loner girl is dating the school freak! Can you believe that?”
“I heard that they fucked on their first date.”
“You know what I heard? She gave him a blowjob in the cafeteria boys’ bathroom!”
“Oh please! Like she would ever let that freak into her pants! Yuck!”
Chapter 4: Sorry, Rob
I wanted to call Rob and tell him what was up, but then I realized he didn’t have a phone. Well, at least
no cell phone. I wanted nothing more than to have Rob wrap his scarred up arms around my body and
tell me that everything would be okay. But instead, I sat in my bed, smothered by sheets and pillows,
with tears pouring down from my cheeks as loud sobs and muffled screams interrupted any peace and
quiet there once was. Something to take the pain away would have been nice – anything, really; just so
long as it made me feel numb and emotionless. Maybe a razor blade to slice into my worthless arms; or
some strong ass alcohol to guzzle down my big, fat gluttony mouth; or some acid to burn down my
throat; or some pain killers to fuck up my liver; or a knife to stab into my pathetic heart. Worthless, fat,
pathetic and weak: that’s all I was. Never would I amount to anything, so why keep on living? Obviously
I’m nothing but a lardass who deserves to be treated like shit.
Looking down at my sheets, I saw some spots of blood. I had tried to do whatever I could to contain the
bleeding, but it was apparent that my efforts were useless. I didn’t think I’d bleed that much. I didn’t
think it would be that painful, but it was: physically and mentally. To tell you the truth, I don’t know if I
could tell Rob what happened – that’s how much it has affected me! What if he thought it was my fault?
What if he told me that I’m useless now? Used, like a bloodied tampon. Now just something to be
tossed into the garbage to make room for the fresh and new. Rob deserved a girl who was wholesome
like him. A girl who was worthy of his love and trust. I wasn’t. I was a used piece of disgusting garbage
that needed to be thrown into the dumpster for tomorrow’s trash pickup.
Maybe Rob would be forgiving? It’s not like I would initiate something like this! Landon took it as far as
he could this time around. I swear I was a good girl; up in my room, doing homework as I watched The
Crow –fantasizing about Rob as I ogled over Eric Draven, the creepy, semi-Rob looking guy in the movie.
I was even working on math homework, which I was horrible at and absolutely hated; but all thanks to
Rob, I was so much better at it, and it wasn’t as bad as I used to think it was. Oh, and of course, I had a
bowl of popcorn that I occasionally grabbed heaping handfuls of buttery goodness from. It was nearly a
perfect afternoon; the only missing piece of the puzzle was Rob.
And then Landon came walking through my door. I glared at him before quickly turning back toward the
TV to continue watching my movie.
He snatched the remote from off the bed and turned off the TV, and then he sat down on the edge of
my bed. “Alisha,” he whispered, his right hand slithering across the bed till it reached my side. “Have you
been a good girl?”
Right then and there I wanted to barf. This wasn’t the first time he asked that. Have you been a good
girl? That question always made my stomach do somersaults. It always made chills run down my spine –
multiple times. Alisha, have you been a good girl? Why’d he bother to ask it so indirectly? He and I both
knew what he really meant by that question.
As I reached over to grab a handful of popcorn, he grabbed the bowl and placed it on my desk. “You’d
be so stunning if you didn’t eat yourself to fatness,” he said gently. I could feel his hand grab at my side
and gently rub up and down the cloth of my shirt. “No rich, attractive guy wants a fat girl.”
Another one of Landon’s ways to make me feel shittier about myself. The worse I felt about myself, the
more control he had over me. My parents had raised me by the motto of: Attractiveness is the only
thing that matters. I never put much thought into it, being as I was rebellious and wanted to be different
from them, but I guess they were right; if you’re a superficial, arrogant asshole like them, attractiveness
is all that matters. One day soon, both of them will lose their looks; then what? They’ll have nothing else
to live for.
Landon lay down next to me and reached his hands to my face. Now caressing at my cheeks, he smiled
and gazed into my eyes. “You know what I find so great about you?”
I didn’t want to know, but yet Landon felt the need to express himself. “You’re still all you. Even after
both your mother and I offer to get you plastic surgery, you decline because you want to be natural.”
This conversation would only lead to something disturbing. Landon had done this a few times before,
and it only got worse from there.
This time around, though, he slid his hand down till he was touching my lower neck area. He started to
glance down at the cleavage showing through my green tank top. Licking at his lips, he grinned and said,
“Nice, firm breasts – all natural – and a deliciously thick ass. Mmm, girl! I hate fat, but you sure can work
that ass and chest when you dress all skimpy.”
Ten years younger than my mom, Landon was thirty four years old – and my flesh and blood father. My
mom always told me that the first two things she noticed about him were his blue as blue can be eyes –
electric blue, as she would call them; and his excellent smile. Working as a top model while also
cultivating an exercise and diet business with his father, it was weird to think that the then eighteen-
year-old would fall for someone like my mom – who was twenty-eight at the time. Then again, there’s
obviously the appeal: she was a plastic surgeon, and a hot one at that.
“You know, Alisha?”
I looked over at him, trying to wish him away. But it didn’t work: he was still there. Now his voice grew
louder, “You know what, Alisha?”
“What?
“One of the girls I slept around with was really fat.”
I don’t know whether he was trying to make me feel worse or trying to make me feel better, but
whatever the effect, all I felt was disgust. Disgusted that this man – the one I called Dad – was treating
me like this.
“Your mother’s just getting too fake for me,” he began to tell me, sighing. “All that plastic surgery she’s
gotten hasn’t helped her in her quest to look young again.”
Breast and butt implants. Facelift. Lip injections. Liposuction. Tummy tuck. Nose job. Botox. Laser hair
removal. What was even real about her anymore? Her body dysmorphic disorder.
“Mom’s sick,” I mumbled, inching my body away from Landon’s. “She needs help.”
“Sick in the head,” he replied as he took his hands off of me and placed them by his sides. “There’s no
psych doc who can help her at this point.”
The therapy sessions never helped, the pills were useless, and the hypnosis was practically a joke.
Perfection was her greatest desire. Youth is what she wanted back, but yet was never able to achieve. I
grew up in a family corrupted by the goals of perfection and ultimate beauty. Was there any hope for
me? I used to be sure there was, but now I wasn’t. Would I ultimately end up on a path of self
destruction like my mother? I already had a starting point.
“I need something real and fresh – young and naïve, too. Make her have waves of dark auburn, and soft
skin the color of porcelain,” Landon poetically spoke. His hands reached for my body, wrapping
completely around it. “I need a sweet thing like you.”
I need something real and fresh – young and naïve, too. Make her have waves of dark auburn, and soft
skin the color of porcelain. I need a sweet thing like you. He reduced me down to a thing. A thing to feast
his sick, demented desires into.
Landon looked me in the eye, sneering. “I like virgins the best. There’s just something so satisfying about
being the first to fuck ‘em.”
Especially when they have low self esteem, because then they won’t complain when you stick it in them.
They’ll just be thankful they got some dick from a hot dude. Right, Landon? You’ve told me that one a
time or two before. You know why I make fun of you? It’s because if I hurt your self esteem, it’ll be easier
for me to take advantage of you. You know why I hate when you rebel? It’s because it makes it harder for
me to take control of you. You know why I say all these sexual things to you? It’s because I want you to
be ready for when I finally get to –. Finally get to what – fuck me?
I always lied and told everyone that my family life was fine. I held back the fact that my mother was
verbally abusive, that I had to fight off sexual advances from my father, and that both my parents made
me feel like complete shit. My mom was drinking too many wines these days. My father was always
going out and getting some ass. I was getting involved with a freak of a guy. The whole family’s fucked
up – a completely and utterly fucked up mess.
“Just leave, Dad,” I told him.
Landon got up from my bed and unbuckled his belt. “That’s not what you tell your dad.” Now he pulled
the leather strap out from the loop buckles and threw it onto the ground. “I buy you every god damn
thing you can possibly want, and this is what I get – told to leave? The hell’s with you, Alisha? Your
mother and I taught you better manners than that.”
I shrugged my shoulders as he unbuttoned and unzipped his khakis. “You better still be a virgin.”
“Would it matter if I wasn’t?”
He grabbed at the root of my ponytail and pulled my head toward his chest. “I swear to God, Alisha, that
if you let that fucking freak be the first to screw you, I’ll make you beg for mercy.”
And I’m sure he would have. Thankfully, Rob stopped anything sexual from happening between him and
me. “I’m still a virgin, Dad, so just chill.”
“Good,” he replied, dropping his pants and stepping out of them. “Because you know who’ll be your
first?”
I turned around and looked up at him. “The guy I marry?”
Landon laughed such an evil, wicked laugh – demonic, rather. “No,” he said boldly. “It’s going to be me.”
As I rolled my eyes and let out a laugh, I said back to him, “C’mon, Dad, this isn’t funny anymore. Why
can’t you just leave so I can finish my movie?”
And that’s when he unbuttoned his expensive designer dress shirt and threw it onto the ground. Before
me stood one of those exercise commercial models – in his black Calvin Klein boxer briefs. You know
those types: the ones with ripped six-pack abs, pecs and arms; just totally muscular all around. Landon
was still a model for ads and commercials. Women would practically try and dive into his pants; that’s
how hot others considered him. Don’t even start on the gay guys; they’d always try and get with him,
even though he was straighter than straight.
Running his hand along his muscular core, he looked at me and grinned. “I’m so hot, yeah? I could have
any woman I wanted. I’m the one you seen in underwear and swimsuit ads. I’m that sexy guy who any
woman wants to wake up next to.”
And you’re also my dad. “Dad, stop,” I groaned. “I just want to enjoy my afternoon.”
I know this will sound sick and completely immoral, but he was hot. There was no denying that. If he
weren’t my dad and I had the chance to sleep with him, would I? Duh! What girl wouldn’t?! He was that
doable! But the guy’s my dad! The thought of doing anything sexual with him was wrong. Actually doing
stuff with him? That’s beyond revolting.
That didn’t deter him at all. Instead, he got back on my bed and sat down. “What do you even see in
that creepy Rob guy? I mean, he’s the epitome of freak. I can’t believe you turned down Jake for him!”
I sat up on my bed and looked up at Landon. “He respects me and thinks I’m perfect just the way I am.
Oh, and he’s romantic and a lot of fun to be around, too. Just because he looks kind of strange, doesn’t
mean he’s a total freak of nature. Rob’s a great person, Dad.”
Landon sneered. “You sure he even has a dick? Sometimes I wonder about him being a real male or not;
the guy acts like he’s got a pussy instead.”
“Duh, Dad,” I hissed as I elbowed his arm. “I’ve even felt it – only through clothes, of course.”
“I bet you anything that mine’s bigger.”
“Dad, that’s gross! Just stop, okay?”
I tried to get up from the bed, but before I could get up, Landon grabbed my shoulders and pulled me
against his chest. “I’m going to your first, baby, okay?” One of his hands hooked around my stomach,
while the other stroked at my cheeks. “You just need to relax and let me –“
“Stop it!” I shrieked. I thrashed my body around until he took both his arms and locked them around
me.
“Shut the fuck up, Alisha,” he hissed into my ear, “and let me undress you.”
There was no use in continuing to scream; it’d only aggravate Landon more and more, so I stopped. I felt
his hands move toward the bottom of my tank top, and then he pulled it off. He moved to my shorts and
stripped them off of me. Now I was just in my bra and panties.
Landon pushed me down onto the bed and then hovered his body over mine. “You want my thick, cut
eight-incher in you, don’t you?”
Tears dribbled down from my eyes as I looked into his eyes and pitifully whispered, “Dad, stop. Please,
Dad, just stop. I wanna, I wanna, I wanna –“
“Shhh,” he said, placing his left palm over my mouth to hush me.
With his right hand, he unhooked my bra and took it completely off. His lips dove toward my chest, and
he began to lick and suck on my breasts. Part of me was horrified and disgusted by what he did, and
wanted him to stop; but another part of me, it enjoyed it and wanted him to continue. While he
continued to do that, I felt his hand slide down my body till it was touching the elastics of my panties. He
inched them from off my hips and down my legs, and then he pulled them completely off. I was now
naked – completely naked – as he grinded his pelvis against mine and continued to lick and suck.
Landon took his lips off of my breasts and looked up at me. “You ready for it?”
I rapidly shook my head ‘no,’ but he didn’t take the clue. He took off his boxers, his penis now
completely exposed. He brought one of his hands to his mouth and soaked several of his fingers with his
salvia, and then he brought the fingers down to my crotch and rubbed them around. When he rubbed
them against my clit, I started to squirm and kick my legs because it felt good – real good.
“You like it when I rub you there, huh?” he asked, a smile on his face. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
I lied and shook my head ‘no.’ That didn’t stop Landon, though; he continued to rub.
“Stop touching me!” I grabbed his hips and pushed them away. “Leave me alone, Dad! Just leave me the
fuck alone!”
Landon slapped me across the face. “You don’t ever cuss at your father,” he yelled as he brought one of
his hands down to the base of his penis.
And that’s when he penetrated me with it, all while I screamed and cried and struggled and yelled for
him to stop – time after time! Landon might have been a fucked up creep, but to go that far – to rape
me? That was beyond messed up! My virginity was raped away by my very own father. God, I felt like
just committing suicide right about then; that’s how disgusted and appalled and upset I was!
I grabbed my cell phone from the nightstand and checked it. There was a new voicemail. Bringing the
phone up to my ear, I listened and this is what was said:
“Hey, Alisha, it’s me, Rob. Just calling to see what you’re up to, and if you wanted to hang out or
anything. Well, you must be busy, ‘cause you’re not answering; but if you aren’t, just call me okay, ‘kay?
Thanks. I love you, sweetie, and I always will!”
I was ‘busy’ being raped. I wish Rob was more persistent with calling me, but then again, why would he?
He ‘knew’ that my life was good: I had everything I wanted, and my parents were decent enough. At
least that’s what I would tell him. He said he loved me, but what about after he heard about what
happened? Would that love be nonexistent? Would he be so disgusted and revolted by me? Would he
break up with me and never talk to me again? Or would he seek vengeance? It’s not like I cheated on
him; I was raped, for Christ’s sake!
My phone began to ring, and I saw that it was Rob calling. I was thinking that I should just let it go to
voicemail, but then I realized that I needed to pick up and talk.
I picked up. “Hi.”
I could tell Rob was smiling. “Yay! You answered!”
Silence.
“Hey, you okay, Alisha?”
More silence.
“I really wanna come see you. I miss you.”
“No.”
“No?”
“It’s – it’s a bad time to…come over.”
Rob kept silent for several long, tense seconds. “Oh?”
I didn’t say anything.
“What’s wrong?”
I kind of laughed. Wasn’t it obvious?
“Alisha? Tell me.”
“Nothing. Look, I gotta – I gotta –“
“No you don’t! Talk to me, sweetie. Just tell me.”
Couldn’t he tell by the sobs in my voice? Or the tense bouts of laughter? Or the way I kept silent? I was
miserable. I was hurt. I felt nothing but disgust and hatred – for my father. Why didn’t Rob just out and
out say he was coming over, no matter what I said, and going to comfort me? Was he too much of a
socially awkward jackass to know that all I needed were his hands wrapped around me, his warm breath
blowing against my head, and his voice whispering in my ear, telling me that everything would be okay?
“Do you want me to call back later?”
No, Rob! I wanted you to save me from my misery. I wanted you to toddle away with me. Far, far away. I
wanted to smell you, even though I normally hated and complained about the mixture of smoke and
Curve cologne on your clothes. I was embarrassed by you in public, yet I felt nothing but pride when I
had you alone in my room. You were always offering a shoulder to cry on, or quality advice, but did I
ever take up the offers? No. I was too much of a dipshit to realize how much you cared, and how much
you really mattered in my life.
“I wish it was you,” I mumbled into the phone, stifling back my sobs and tears.
“Huh?”
“I wish it was you.”
“Alisha, what are you talking about?”
“Your dick.”
“That’s not funny,” Rob began, sounding irate.”I’m serious, Alisha; what’s wrong, and what are you
talking about?”
“I told you.”
Rob remained silent, as did I.
“What did I do wrong to deserve this treatment?”
Nothing. You did nothing, and that’s the point. Instead of hightailing your ass over here, you kept
questioning me on the fucking phone.
“Okay, fine then.” Rob sounded mad. “If you’re going to be like this, I’m hanging –“
“Wait!”
He said nothing, probably keeping silent so he could hear what I had to say.
“Can you come over… so I can say I lost it to you instead?”
“What?”
“You heard me, Rob.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Alisha.” He sounded so confused, so baffled – maybe a little
worried, too. “You on something? You aren’t being yourself – you sound kinda, um, mental?”
“No.” I started to cry and my sobbing grew louder by the minute. “I wanted it to be with you, Rob, not
him. And, it’s just not –“
Rob hung up.
I guess that meant he hated me. That things were probably going to be over between us. But I was
determined. So, I showered again and got dressed in different clothes, and snuck out of the house. It’s
not like it mattered anyway; my dad had drunk himself into an alcohol comatose, and my mom was
away on a weekend cruise. Rob’s place was two and a half miles from mine, but I was determined to get
there. To tell him the story – fully.
When I finally got there – like, an hour and a half later, I came to realize how much I regretted it. There
were a bunch of cars parked outside the street and in the driveway, and the music was loud – louder
than fuck – from inside the hour. I heard happy screams and shouts and all kinds of craziness inside and
outside of the house. It sounded like a party was going on. What kind of a party, I had no idea.
Going up to the door, which was clearly on its last limbs, I rung the door bell and waited. All I could hear
was shouting and laughing and loud, obnoxious chattering. It took at least a minute, but finally,
someone opened the door – just a peep. And through that opened peep, I saw the muffle of a handgun
being pointed right at me.
“Who are you, and what do you want?” demanded a man’s voice from behind the door.
I swallowed hard and took a few steps back and out of the direction of the gun. “I—I came here for
Rob.”
The gun was retracted and the door opened wider, enough for me to walk in. As I made my way in, I was
greeted by a tall, skinny tweaker guy. “Why you want Rob?” The guy sounded totally tweaked out, but
whatever; as long as I was able to get to Rob, it was worth having to deal with a dumbass drug addict.
“I’m his girlfriend.”
“I’m Timmy, by the way,” he said, flashing me a smile that only made me realize how shitty his teeth
were. “And you are?”
“Alisha.” Timmy outstretched his hand, and I shook it. I guess this meant that we went from strangers to
acquaintances – or something like that.
We made idle talk as he searched around for Rob, looking in all the wrong places. I think it was because
he didn’t even know who the fuck Rob was. Maybe he thought Rob was a fellow tweaker of theirs or
something? Because it was obvious that Rob would have been up in his room, doing some depressing
shit or something.
But when he went outside into the backyard and near this little run-down shack, I had to say, the
tweaker sure knew what he was doing. Sure enough, Rob was inside, bawling his eyes out. “Poor kid,”
Timmy began, frowning as he looked at Rob through holes punched into the side. “Don’t have nobody in
his life. He was sayin’ that his girlfriend fucked some guy, or something?”
Okay, maybe he didn’t know what he was doing. I already told him I was Rob’s girlfriend, but yet he
talked about this like I wasn’t. Weird, but whatever. “Oh.”
Timmy pulled out a packaged condom from his pants pocket. “You said you were a prostitute, right?” He
handed me the condom and smiled. “I’ll pay you in drugs, ‘kay? Just, can you please sleep with the kid?
He’s still a virgin! Funny, ain’t it?”
I grabbed the condom. “I’m his girlfriend.”
He looked surprised, but then smiled again. “Make him feel good. You’re a girl; use your powers.”
Watching as Timmy opened the door, I saw Rob turn around and glare at me. He began to burst into
outrageous crying as he slammed his left fist against one of the shack walls. “Why would you?” he
screamed.
I now was bursting into tears. “You hung up on me.”
He slammed a fist again. “You cheated on me!”
“No I didn’t! My dad – he, he”
Rob slammed his head against the wall, and let out a bellow. “No! No! No!”
Timmy pushed me into the shack, and then left just Rob and me by ourselves. Rob was going psychotic,
and I was just as bad as he was. Drool dripped from his mouth. Tears gushed down his cheeks. His hands
and arms shook violently, as did his legs. Breaths turned into heaves. “I thought you cheated on me!”
I shook my head. “Never.”
Probably still upset with me, Rob made no initiative to comfort me. Behind clenched teeth, he asked
very angrily, “What did he do to you?”