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I stared at him, my embarrassment plain to anyone who took the time to notice. I wasn't pissed like I should have been, mostly because it was true and nothing new to me. People always talked to me that way. At that time, I was just coming out of my slut phase-slowly growing careful about whom I allowed to take advantage of me. But that guy looked old enough to be my dad and I thought, judging by his weaving, that he was about to pass out. And the whole scenario just seemed too pathetic.
I turned away from him once again, wondering why I even bothered to try. Those high school affairs weren't invitation only-they went by reputation. By that standard, I was not invited. But I had heard some other kids talking about it and was bored. More than that, I wanted free beer.
Smiley was suddenly at my side again, with his liquor-stink breath in my ear. "Why you do that girl? Huh?" And then, his red plastic cup tipped, sending a stream of beer all over the green silk top I'd snaked from my mom's closet because it matched my eyes.
Free beer indeed.
Uncle Ass-Smiley laughed through an apology, swearing that he'd find me a towel. Then, I noticed Troy Bleecher was posting at the keg. He walked over as I was wringing out the front of my shirt.
"So much booze and not a drop to drink," he quipped. His hair was buzzed down at the time, for football. He whipped a red plastic cup from behind his back and offered it to me.
I examined at the contents. It looked like beer but I was suspicious and gave a quick sniff. "Are you trying to roofie me?"
Troy laughed and took a demonstrative sip before offering it up once more. When I didn't accept the proffered cup a second time, he tipped it up and drank until it was gone.
"Come on, I'll get you a towel."
I followed him through the packed living room and down the hallway to a closed bedroom door. He took a key from his pocket and unlocked it, walked through, and flipped on a light. The first thing I saw was a giant bed and froze.
"Wait here," Troy said, without seeming to notice my discomfort. He walked into an adjoining restroom and returned with a plush, cream and blue checkered towel.
I dried myself as best I could and handed it back. "Is this your house?"
"Yeah," he tapped his fingers along the front of his shirt. "You good?"
I nodded and thanked him. I should have made up an excuse and went back to the party. But at that moment, all I was thinking about was avoiding Uncle Dickwad. I knew he was out there looking for me, waiting to ruin something else.
"Hey, Troy, do you mind if I stay in here a minute?"
"That's cool. Uncle Smiley is trashed and it's not even midnight." He grinned wide. "He's my chaperone." His hands made air quotes around the word chaperone and we both laughed.
Then, awkward silence.
"I could stay and talk with you. If you don't mind." Troy offered, and there was something sweet about the way he asked. Something that made me think that if I said no, he would leave me alone in his parent's bedroom. But I didn't want to be alone.
I nodded. "Okay. But not for sex."
Troy laughed into his closed fist. "Damn, girl, why do you assume? Can't I just talk to you?"
"We can talk." I answered, and a sudden eagerness rose in my belly. Troy said he didn't want any more than my company and I liked it.
He invited me to sit beside him at a padded bench at the end of his parents' bed. He examined the spill-stain down the front of my shirt. "Do you want something to wear that doesn't smell like beer?"
"Sure."
He disappeared once more and came back with a clean, white tank top and handed it over. It looked like one of his. I could tell that he was going to turn around to give me privacy or maybe to point me to the bathroom to change, but I lifted my shirt before he had the chance.
Troy didn't say anything and he didn't turn away. He just stared.
Suddenly, he was the nervous one and I liked that. I took his hand from his side and set it over my bra. He kept it there for a long moment, and then asked for a kiss.
+ + +
18
-Angel
Avery lived in an actual house. No wheels. It was in the middle of a giant lot and needed a new coat of paint in the worst way. The stucco was cracked in more than a few places, but it had a wrap-around porch and there were no neighbors. We used to sit on that porch and get stoned when her mom wasn't around. If she caught us she'd have a fit. But her mom worked so much it was almost like she lived there alone. No one took care of the yard, so it was all sand and weeds and the occasional wild cactus. No trees. Lots of lizards. I was as familiar with her place as I was my own. More so, even, because she had lived there since before I landed with my Foster, Deanna.
