“Where the hell have you been?” When I look up Mel is standing in front of me with her arms folded across her chest in the middle of the hallway. Her eyes sweep over my jacket and then down to my pants and boots. She lifts an eyebrow at me and shakes her head. “You spent the day with him, didn’t you?”
The smile is still on my face. I don’t care what Mel says, it’s not ruining the day I had. Sean and I rode out east after he bought his bike. We ate dinner at little local place that overlooks the bay, and then he dropped me off at the dorm. It felt normal and I desperately need normal right now.
I open my mouth to reply, but Mel holds up her hand and shakes her head. “Save it, Cinderella. I don’t want to hear the stupid shit going through your mind.”
“Mel,” I groan. I try to push past her to go to my room, but she catches the crook of my arm.
“Damn it, Avery. I’m serious. You nearly got crushed by a semi the other night. You gotta be more careful, and hanging out with that demented biker is not anybody’s idea of careful. I already screamed at Fairy-boy for letting you go. Sean is off limits. Got it?” Mel’s in my face and her manicured finger is poking me in the chest.
My eyebrows disappear under my bangs as I swat her hand away. “Throwing himself under a truck didn’t redeem him, did it?”
“No,” she snaps. “And one good act doesn’t undo all the other stupid shit he’s done. The man is bad news. He’s messing with your mind and you’re letting him.”
I sigh, and push past her. Mel follows me down the hallway. “Avery, I’m just watching out for you. So much stuff has been going on. Damn it, listen to me!” Mel grabs my shoulders and spins me around. “I’m the only one who knows what you’ve gone through and what you’re doing. Don’t waste it like this. If Black finds out that you’ve been seeing him, you’ll lose everything.”
My smile is gone. I don’t say anything for a second. I know she’s right, I just wish she wasn’t. I need that job to dig myself out of the ever-increasing hole I keep digging. As it is, I’m sure I’m on her shit list. I close my eyes and say it, “Fine. You’re right.”
“Don’t try pulling that reverse mind shit on me, I know I’m right!”
“Mel, back off. I said I agree with you. I can’t lose my job.”
Mel finally deflates. She nods slowly and grabs my wrist. She drags me down the hallway and into her room. After slamming the door, she rounds on me. “Black has you on the schedule for next weekend. I saw it when I went in today to get my contract for the week.”
It feels like all the air was sucked out of the room. I didn’t expect her to put me back so fast, even though I asked. I haven’t even spoken to Black since before the accident. Although I sent Gabe back with a wad of cash and demanded to be reinstated, I didn’t expect her to actually do it.
“Who’d she put me with?”
“I don’t know.” Mel sits down hard on her bed and looks up at me. She pushes her huge hair out of her face and sighs. “What are you planning on doing?”
“With what?” I sit down in her chair and pull my boots off. Mel notices them but doesn’t say anything.
“With Black. I know it was supposed to be a stopgap job until graduation, but then you need to do your graduate work. I know I have to keep that job until I’m done and making it on my own. I’m guessing that you need to do the same thing, so you need to stay on Black’s good side. You had a bumpy start, Avery. I’m shocked she hasn’t fired your ass.”
I haven’t really thought past graduation, about what I’ll do. I keep getting stuck in now. I glance up at Mel. “So what do I do?”
“Kiss her ass. Take whatever clients she gives you and make them rave about you.”
I smile awkwardly. “I don’t have the skills to—”
“Then learn! Take the initiative. Rent some porn. Go to that sex shop everyone’s always talking about. Look around. Watch a pole dance. Do something that makes you so desirable that the clients beg for you and only you.”
“What do you do?”
She laughs under her breath. “Stuff that you can’t pull off, white girl. I’m me, in all my mocha sexual hotness. I own it. I own him. I have him eating out of my hand before I leave. I make sure to put it in his head that there’s more. It’s all bullshit, but when they’re like that, none of the guys are really thinking with their head. They let their pants make all the decisions. String them along. Fake it ‘til you make it and all that shit.” Mel lies back on her bed and stuffs a pillow under her head. She sighs like she’s exhausted.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out. I know the reason why she’s overtired and strung out. It’s me.
Mel waves her hand in the air. “Nah, no sorry’s. There are no do-overs for girls like us. We’re one shot wonders. I know that. I’ve been through shit you can’t even imagine and I have no intention of giving up. I know what’s at the very bottom when you fall flat on your face. I just don’t want you going through that, not when you don’t have to. And I know this guy makes you happy sometimes, but he’s driving me nuts. He’s risking stuff you don’t have to risk. You get what I’m saying to you?”
I nod. “I get it.” My voice is totally flat.
All the happy vibes from earlier are gone. I feel guilt tugging at me every time my eyes glance at my boots or my hand touches my leather pants. She’s right. Mel’s so right and I’ve gotten so careless. I push off the chair and tell her, “Thanks. I’m glad you’re on my side. I need to go study for a test in the morning. I’ll catch you at lunch tomorrow.”
I walk away wondering what horrors Mel’s been through that I don’t know about. Whenever she’s warning me, I see the memories replay on her face. There’s fear in her eyes and nothing can take it away. I don’t want to get like that, and the best way to prevent it is to do what Mel said—suck up to Black, kiss Sean good-bye, and start taking new clients.
I just don’t want to…
CHAPTER 8
The rest of the week passes slowly. I go to classes and try to focus, but it takes an ungodly amount of coffee. I don’t see Sean. I try not to think about him. I do my work and keep my nose in my books until I get a call from Miss Black. She has a client for me. I have to go in and chat with her before she forks over his name. Black sounds more irritated with me than normal. I tell her that I’ll be in tonight and hang up before I say something stupid.
I’ve been sitting in the diner across the street from the college, working on the outline for my semester project in Psych. I have a textbook open with colored highlighters on the table, and Post-It Notes stuck all over the book. They stick out of the sides like rainbow colored bunny ears. I’m not paying attention to who’s around me. When the waitress comes by, I order more coffee and a slice of apple pie.
“Do you want ice cream with that, hun?” She stares down at me from under a boat-load of blue eye shadow.
Marty appears from behind her and answers for me. “Hell yes. And double that. I’m sick of watching my figure. Today has pie and ice cream written all over it, honey.” The waitress looks at him like he’s smacked his head one to many times. Marty makes a face at her and she leaves. “Long time, no see. Whachya doing, slut?” Marty leans forward and tries to see my notes from across the table.
I smile at him. “Term paper. What’s new with you?” I look him over. He’s not dressed in his normal decade-specific attire. Instead, Marty’s hair is sort of messy and he has a little stubble on his jaw. He’s wearing a button down shirt with a dark brown blazer. It makes his eyes look like chocolates. “Got a new boyfriend?”
He smiles awkwardly and shakes his head. “Nah.”
“What’s with the new threads? Trying to channel GQ?”
Marty tilts his chin up and grins. “Something like that. You like?”
I nod and let my eyes slip over him again, before returning my gaze to his face. “Yeah, actually I do. It’s hot. Sure to turn a lot of heads.” I smile at him and glance back down at my outline. I’m almost done and I’ve been working for hours, so I push the book aside and take a break.
“Mmm. Maybe, but there’s only one head that I’m interested in turning.” He stretches and places one of his arms along the back of the booth.
“Does he notice you?” Marty doesn’t talk much about his love interests. I’d started thinking he was asexual. I’m glad we’re talking. It feels like it used to, before things got weird between us.
“Not so much.” He holds my gaze.
“That’s too bad.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Everything happens for a reason, right? Maybe it’s not time to be noticed, yet. Maybe when I am noticed, things will go better because I waited. At least that’s what I tell myself when I’m crying into my pillow at night.” He winks at me. Before I have a chance to answer, the waitress sets down our plates. Marty sits up and inhales. He sighs, “My God. Ecstasy on a plate.”
The waitress snorts and walks away.
I dig in and shovel the pie into my mouth. The apples are warm and the crust is light and buttery. I think I moaned because Marty’s laughing. “Easy there, Little Miss O. I’m not into that kind of public display.”
I nearly choke on an apple. I sputter for a second. “You’re such an ass. You can make sexual remarks about dessert, but I can’t?”
“Yes.” Marty shovels more pie into his mouth, while watching me with a smirk on his face.
“Why is that?”
“Double-standard, honey. I can do a lot of things you can’t. I don’t have boobs. Get over it.” He glances around and holds up his hand. The waitress comes over. “Can I get a glass of milk? Thanks, hon.” She smiles this time and disappears. A few minutes later there’s a huge glass of milk next to him. I salivate, staring at it. “Go ahead and have some. I don’t have cooties.” Marty shoves the glass toward me. I put the cold cup to my lips and guzzle. When I put it down, there’s hardly any left. “Well, that was sexy.”
“Shut up,” I say, smiling at him. “I can be sexy. I just chose not to be.”
“Who said that wasn’t sexy? A girl tipping back a glass of milk like that? Very alluring.” He waggles his eyebrows at me. “Any girl that can swallow that much milk has gotta be good at—”
I cut him off, pointing my spoon at him. “Don’t say it.” There’s a warning tone in my voice.
But Marty is still smiling. He shakes his head. “You’re such a prude. You can put out and get paid, you little tramp, but we can’t talk about it. I thought I’d hear all about your sexual encounters. I’m starting to think your job is bogus.” Marty leans back in the booth with a self-assured look on his face.
“It is not bogus. And who uses that word anymore?”