“You know,” he begins to say, and I stop breathing, waiting for the hook. “You need to learn to suck cock, because you really are ugly and stupid, and you’re not going to be able to make it in this world without some dumb fucker taking care of you.” And there it is. The insult, the belittling, the sure-fire way to keep me so far down I’ll never see the light again.
“Yes, Dad,” I answer.
“When you finish high school, I want you out of the house. I don’t want to feed you anymore. Or clothe you or even have to worry about you,” Dad says, and walks out of my room. Worry about me? Is this how he shows he ‘worries’ about me?
My shoulders slump and I can’t help but feel like nothing more than the dirt on his shoe he can’t scrape off quick enough.
“Yes, Dad,” I murmur, as I fall to my knees and cry.
High school is almost finished for the year.
What the hell am I going to do? I’m so scared. I’m so dumb, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to get a job. Who’d want someone as stupid as me?
“Hi,” Trent says as I walk toward the bus stop. “You look beautiful,” he adds, looking me up and down. My jeans have a hole, my shoes are old and my blouse was something I found at the thrift shop this morning. It smells like moth-balls, but I bought some deodorant with the change of the twenty and sprayed it making it not smell so bad.
“Thank you,” I say, even though I want to laugh at him. I really must be stupid. Because for a split-second, when he smiles at me, I believe him, I believe I look beautiful. What a fool I am to think I’m anything but what I really am.
“I was thinking there’s a nice pizza place near the movies. What do you think?” he asks.
I shrug my shoulders and nod. I’ve had pizza before. They served it at school and I had found some coins in the sofa. It added up to enough for me to have a slice of pizza at school. God, it tasted awesome. I think I had it when I was little too, but I’m not sure.
“I think that sounds fantastic,” I answer Trent, excited about having pizza.
“Then pizza it is. And what type of movies do you like? There’s a few new ones out. Do you like sci-fi or comedies or maybe a drama?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe something to make me laugh.”
We sit and wait for the bus together. Trent moves closer to me, and my automatic reaction is to flinch away. He catches the sudden jerk, I can see out of my peripheral vision how his eyebrows knit together. “I’m not going to hurt you, Lily.”
I nod, acknowledging his words, though my defenses are high, just in case he tries to do something to me.
“I go to the private boy’s school across town. Where do you go?”
“Public school,” I answer, while I keep an eye out for the bus.
“When do you finish? I finish this year and have been accepted into college to study accounting. What will you be doing?”
“I finish this year too. I’m not sure if I can even go to college. I think I’ll have to find a job. I’m going to the supermarket to see if they need anyone tomorrow.”
Trent knits his eyebrows together again, and his face morphs into question. “Why?”
“I have to move out soon, and I need money.”
“You have to move out?” he asks, his voice full of query. “I don’t understand why you have to move out. Are your mom and dad going through a tough time?”
“My mom’s dead,” I say with no feeling in my voice. Or even in my body.
“Aren’t you living with your dad?”
“Can we just not talk about my dad or anything like that please? Tell me about your family. Do you have brothers or sisters?” The bus pulls up and Trent and I stand to get on. With his hand to my lower back, Trent guides me on the bus ahead of him. He is such a gentleman, allowing me to go first.
“Two please,” he says, handing the bus driver money for our fare. “No brothers or sisters. But my dad comes from a huge family and said he never wanted more than one child, because he didn’t want me to have to fight with anyone.” I look at him and nod before he finds us seats.
The bus trip is spent with Trent sitting beside me and me looking out the window. We’re quiet because there are a lot of people on the bus, and trying to talk will only be drowned out by the incessant happy chatter of the people around us.
“We need to get off the bus now,” Trent says, gently nudging me out of my study of the buildings we’re passing.
“Okay,” I say as I stand, we move to the front to get off when it stops.
“Lily, would you mind if I hold your hand?” he asks sweetly. I’ve never had anyone hold my hand. Not when I’m awake. In my dreams sometimes Mom holds my hand as we walk through a tall, field of bright yellow flowers. Dad holds my other hand and they count to three then swing me up in the air. A little boy is always running ahead, looking back at us and giggling.