Henri had begun dating Lorraine, a local girl from the neighborhood. She was the same age as Henri, seventeen years old to Roche's fifteen. She'd dropped out of school to help take care of her seven siblings while her mother and father worked. Henri seemed crazy about her and always acted goofy around her.
One temperate afternoon in March, Roche came home from school to find Henri's blonde and busty girlfriend sitting on the couch filing her nails. When he entered the room, her face lit up as she beamed. "Hi, Roche. How are you?" Her blue eyes skimmed over him.
Roche shrugged. "Okay. Where's Henri?"
"At work. He got called in right after I got here." She pushed out her bottom lip in a faux pout. He nodded and moved toward the kitchen. "Attends." She patted the empty spot next to her on the couch. "Come sit next to me for a minute."
"I got stuff to do." But he stood in place, staring at her.
She smiled, her lips glistening in an orange shade. "Just for a few moments?" She leaned back, thrusting her ample cleavage out.
Roche's gaze lingered on her chest as he licked his lips. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he ambled over and plopped down on the other side of the couch, his gaze still fixed on her breasts encased in her tight top.
Cupping them, she smiled. "You like these?" He gave a half shrug. "I think you do. You know, I've noticed the way you sneak looks at me when I'm over here." She clucked her tongue and scooted closer to him. "Do you want to touch them? I'll let you."
A surge of lust flooded him, and the tightness in his jeans made him uncomfortable. He glanced at Lorraine's face when she grabbed his hands and placed them over her breasts. "Squeeze them. They won't bite you." She laughed as he squished her lovely softness in his hands. "You're real cute, you know that? I bet you don't have any trouble getting girls."
He didn't answer. The truth was that girls did stare at him and want to date him, but he wasn't interested in any of it. The only one who owned his heart was Clotille, and she acted like he didn't exist. A streak of sadness ran through him as it always did when he thought of her.
"Harder," she breathed.
He squeezed them firmly, loving the way they felt in his hands. Lorraine threw her head back, her lips parted, and moaned. Without thinking, he leaned over and kissed her neck. She grabbed a fistful of his thick dark hair and jerked it. "I think you're the best-looking boy in the parish," she whispered.
He pulled away, heat engulfing him, before placing his hands on each side of her face. He kissed her hard, forcing the seam of her lips open and plunging his tongue inside her willing mouth.
"Let's go to your room," she said thickly against his mouth. Without hesitation he stood, helped her up, and led her to his room, closing the door behind them.
Half an hour later, he noticed the breeze picked up outside as he watched the budding leaves of the willow trees sway. He slipped on his boxers and jeans without looking at Lorraine. As he bent over to pick up his T-shirt, he heard the back door slam shut. He whipped his head toward her. "Get dressed. Now. Vite!" From the footsteps he knew Henri had come in.
Before Lorraine could slip on her clothes, Henri came into the room. His eyes darted between her and Roche, his face turning dark with rage as he rushed over to her, yelling, "Putain!" A loud whack bounced off the walls in the small room. Lorraine's hand rose to her face where she'd been hit.
As Henri readied to slap her again, Roche ran over and shoved him away. Suddenly the two brothers were tangled together, fists flying amidst all the swearing.
Roche looked at Lorraine who sat on the bed, a sheet covering her naked body, a red handprint decorating the right side of her face. "Get out of here," Roche said as Henri's fist landed on his jaw. She scooped up her clothes and ran out.
From that day on, a deeper wedge was drawn between the two brothers. Henri continued to see Lorraine, and the summer before his senior year of high school, Roche spent it sneaking over to her house and hovering over her, wishing it were Clotille he was thrusting into.
Most of his senior year was spent either in the principal's office or at home, under suspension. His main reason for going to school was to fight, smoke weed, and fool around with the fast girls. He'd bump into Clotille in the hallway or stairwell sometimes, and she'd fidget and clear her throat a lot if he said anything to her. He still thought she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, but over the past few years his heart had hardened, bitterness replacing any tenderness he'd once felt for her.
During school assemblies or at the football games, he'd catch her sneaking glances at him, her eyes pained when he'd make out with one of the fun girls. He didn't have time for her anymore. He was a couple months away from graduating and getting the hell away from his father and Henri. No one or nothing was going to stop him.
On a cool April night, the senior class had a party down by the river. The teenagers huddled around a large fire pit, their faces appearing grotesque in the glow of the blaze. Roche walked toward the party, his arm wrapped around his newest girl, Sally. He greeted a few of his friends and they all took out cigarettes and lit them, the ends glowing in the dark. Sensing someone staring at him, he glanced over to the edge of the river and locked eyes with her. Clotille had her arm around Luc's waist, her long chestnut brown hair cascading down her back beautiful under the moonlight. Her gaze moved from him to Sally, who was wrapped around him like a snake on a branch. Clotille turned away, and Sally whispered in his ear, "Let's go somewhere and have some fun."
A couple hours later, Sally was flying high on coke and booze. Roche's buddy, Matt, came over to him. "Damn, Sally's wasted. You gonna take her home?"
"Why?" Roche knew Sally liked giving out freebies to the boys. He was pretty sure she'd screwed her way through most of the senior guys already.
Matt shrugged. "I'm going home, so I thought if you wanted to stay I could drop her off. I go right by her house."
Roche laughed, knowing full well what Matt wanted, and knowing Sally, she'd be more than willing to give it. "Sure, that works." He helped Sally into Matt's car, kissing her back when she covered his mouth with hers. "You sure you want to go home with Matt?" he whispered in her ear.
She nodded. "You don't mind, do you? You'll still call me, right?"
"Sure," he lied. He closed the door and watched as the red taillights disappeared into the darkness. He made his way back to the party, drank a couple more beers, and then decided to call it a night.
He'd borrowed his dad's beat-up old Chevy Impala, parking it down by the cluster of trees. He loved walking, especially at night. As he passed a large cypress tree, he heard crying-deep-in-the-chest sobbing-and he stopped, wondering if he should see if the woman needed any help. He decided to mind his own business and walked slowly away, but the sobs pulled him back. Roche walked toward the sounds, his eyes widening when he saw Clotille on her knees, sobbing into her hands.
At first, he almost walked away, but something about the way she cried reminded him of when he'd met her. His heart clenched. "Qu'est-ce qui se passe, chérie?" he asked.
She jerked her head up, wiping her damp cheeks. Recognition passed over her face, and he saw her features soften.
In two long strides, he knelt beside her, holding her hand. "You gonna tell me what's wrong? Where's Luc?" When Roche mentioned her boyfriend's name, she started crying again and sank into him, her cheeks wet against his shirt. "Did he do something to you?" A current of anger rode up his spine.
"No. Yes." She swallowed and her chin dipped down. "I went looking for him and caught him with Raine, the new girl in school. I can't believe he did that to me." She threw her arms around Roche's neck and cried.
He knew he should feel awful for her, but all he could think about was how wonderful she smelled and how good she felt in his arms. Her soft hair and the way her breasts crushed against him made all his senses jump to life and buzz. He'd never liked Luc and thought Clotille had only gone out with him to please her brother and mother since Luc was always in the papers after making touchdowns for the high school football team.
For a long time, he held her in his arms as she cried out all her anger and disappointment. She looked up at him and cleared her throat, startling him enough that he jumped a bit. He looked down at her and she smiled. "Do you think I'm pretty?" she asked in a hushed tone. Fuck yeah. I think you're beautiful, chérie. "You know you are."