Being Kalli(21)

His laboured breathing comes through the phone line. Typical me is thinking about where we can duck out to, so we can meet and fuck. I’ve made up my mind. I need to fuck him, so he realises, like I do, that what’s going on is just physical. That way, this “he likes me” mess will go away once the confusion is sorted. I want to bend over and let him have me, and end this crazy turn of events. I want to make him happy and I’m more interested in this fuck than any that I’ve had before. I’ll make it his best time.

That I can do. But letting someone else own me, losing what I have of me is something I squirm away from. I’ve seen it in others. I’ve already given that part of me. I’m not available.

“I love hearing your voice.”

What I catch in that is love.

“I might be addicted to you,” he adds.

I play cool. This doesn’t have to be the start of The End. “You’re quite addictive yourself.”

We hang up and the sound of his voice carries me to sleep, along with the thought that we’re on two different levels, going opposite directions, happening to cross over for a moment. But the moment’s over and tomorrow and every day after we’ll be heading further apart in what we want.

I have a feeling it will be the start of The End.





8




When Mum leaves me alone with her boyfriend, I want to cuddle my violin case. I can’t explain why, but I need to hold the hard case in my arms, knowing that a shiny, beautiful thing is inside. I’ve never been much of a teddy hugger.

Tonight when Mum says she needs to go shopping I wonder why we need bread and milk if it’s too late to eat them anyway. But her finger shook when she pointed it at me and said she had to go for both of us anyway.

“Plus,” she told me. “He is here anyway.”

I look to Him and would rather be scared and alone than scared and with him.

He says Mum will be gone for long enough so as soon as she leaves, he invites me into their bedroom to finish watching a movie, Killing Me Softly. It’s sorta scary in lots of ways! Not just the normal scary, but there’s lots of kissing and I’m too embarrassed to say how close they get. Even though I’m at the end of the fifth grade, our teacher still won’t let us watch movies if they kiss for more than a second, and boy, they kiss lots here.

“Do you like this sort of movie?”

“No,” I reply. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Kallisto, there’s no need to be embarrassed about these.”

He says “these” as he shows me my little, flat nipples and with his other hand he touches two fingers over the fly of my jeans.

I jerk back, and say, “Don’t touch me there! I do not like this movie or you at all!”

What does he think I am? I won’t make this stupid man happy. I hate him with my mum, I hate him and I hate being with him alone. He stinks like a sweet tobacco smell when he kisses me.

Then next thing I know, he’s whipped up his hand from under the mattress and clicks one side of a pair of handcuffs over my wrists. In the next moment I stare at my wrist in shock and yank, but he’s thrust me closer to the metal headboard and clicks the other side in place there.

I have many questions for why he does this.

Why are you doing this to me?

Why do you like me? Or hate me?

Why not cuff my other hand so I don’t cat claw you down your bare chest?

Why does that thing suddenly spring up after you take it out of your pants and get long and hard?

Many things start to happen but they’re all sort of hazy after. Except that door. That door is shut and locked and my prison. I look at that closed door and think, If Mum was here or anyone else, this wouldn’t happen because I know they’d get this stinky man off me.

Then I just count.





9




“Hoes and bros party!” I tell Scout, speaking into her ear.

It’s not too loud but she jumps back and rubs the side of her head. “You’re the hoe. What was that for?”

Maybe I’m more excited than I realise. But I need a distraction from everything, and parties always help.

I settle down in the dorm on her roomie’s bed and cross my legs. Her roommate either thinks I’m contagious or is one of the many who steer clear from my path. I have a “stay away” vibe. Today Scout’s roomie took one look at me as I appeared at their door, then she gathered whatever was in front of her into her shoulder bag and darted out.

The room is tight, but cosy with just the two of us when we have a bed to ourselves. I drop my hands on my lap and wait with expectant eyes.

Scout eyes me back warily but I start explaining. “To help you get excited with me.”