I say, still cold. He then releases me and walks past me into the bathroom. And I stand there, wondering what I’m doing. Because even though I’m not sure I want to stay, there’s also no place I feel safer. It’s as if his arms lock down on my sleeping body, freeing and trapping me all at the same time.
I lie down on his bed. I push aside his clothes and flick hash crumbs off the mattress. The little black specks that make me think of the cockroach shit on his kitchen cupboard shelf. Mark shouts over the running water as he shaves, laughs about his landlord’s eviction notice that he and Josh are now using as filters for joints because the paper is nice and thick. Then he laughs about his buddy Jake who got busted tonight for B and E. “He walked right out the front door with the fucking TV. What a dick.”
He comes out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist.“Hey, beautiful,” he says, and I get all warm even though I’m not sure if he’s saying it to me or the mirror he’s flexing in. He loves his muscular body as much as I do. It’s not like the boys’my age, with their struggling chest hairs and pimply backs.
Even though he’s had a shower, he still smells of alcohol and smoke. He nuzzles my neck I start thinking about the baby, and I cry as soundlessly as I can, but I know he can feel my wet face. Still, he doesn’t say anything; pretends not to notice but moves his lips down to my shoulder. I tell him anyway.
”Well, what are you going to do?” he asks casually, not even pulling back.
“Me?” I question. He stares, oblivious to what I’m trying to say. “What are you going to do? What are you going to do?” I repeat his words until his face gets it.
“Well, it’s in your body.”
I look at him in disbelief and then curl away to face the wall. “Babe.” Mark lies back down and strokes my stomach. Then he pulls his hand away and strokes the back of my neck. “What I’m saying is, you’re going to have an abortion, right?”
“Ya,” I say, but don’t tell him it’s too late for that. Stupid, stupid, stupid . I grate my teeth together, biting hard, cursing myself for leaving it so long.
Mark’s body relaxes and he slides his arm tight around me. “Even if you had kept it, I’d be here for you. One hundred percent.”
He rolls me over and we have sex, real hard, like he’s intentionally ramming the baby. And I let him, pretending I’m really into it, pulling him deeper, thinking the whole time, It would just be an accident .
Jasmyn and I are squatted behind the house, under the laundry vent that blows a cloud of clean above our heads. She is trying to convince me to go out tonight. I don’t want to let on like anything is wrong so I pretend I’m up for it. Jasmyn isn’t like Carla, in fact, she’s almost opposite. She’s hard and angry and says she’d be a good lawyer because she says she can get her way with anyone. I’m not sure I could ever call Jasmyn a friend, like Carla was, but it doesn’t matter. That’s what’s nice about Jasmyn and me: this funny acceptance that we are each other’s last choices.
“Come on. It’ll take your mind off things,” Jasmyn says, taking a deep drag of a joint. She can tell there’s something wrong with me. Something probably about Mark, but she doesn’t ask. High-pitched screams come from the kids playing in the backyard next door. “Brats,” Jasmyn hisses dramatically. She extends the butt out in front of her for me to take hold. I inhale, watching the flutters of red and blue through the holes in cedars, flickering like the last few spotty frames of an old home movie.
It’s a cold walk to the pool hall five long blocks away. The owner, Dan, will give us free drinks, “so long as the guys keep coming for you delicious young ladies.” Jasmyn complains the entire way, toes squished in her cousin’s high heels. She stops every few minutes to pull down the miniskirt that keeps creeping up into the warmth of
I lie down on his bed. I push aside his clothes and flick hash crumbs off the mattress. The little black specks that make me think of the cockroach shit on his kitchen cupboard shelf. Mark shouts over the running water as he shaves, laughs about his landlord’s eviction notice that he and Josh are now using as filters for joints because the paper is nice and thick. Then he laughs about his buddy Jake who got busted tonight for B and E. “He walked right out the front door with the fucking TV. What a dick.”
He comes out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist.“Hey, beautiful,” he says, and I get all warm even though I’m not sure if he’s saying it to me or the mirror he’s flexing in. He loves his muscular body as much as I do. It’s not like the boys’my age, with their struggling chest hairs and pimply backs.
Even though he’s had a shower, he still smells of alcohol and smoke. He nuzzles my neck I start thinking about the baby, and I cry as soundlessly as I can, but I know he can feel my wet face. Still, he doesn’t say anything; pretends not to notice but moves his lips down to my shoulder. I tell him anyway.
”Well, what are you going to do?” he asks casually, not even pulling back.
“Me?” I question. He stares, oblivious to what I’m trying to say. “What are you going to do? What are you going to do?” I repeat his words until his face gets it.
“Well, it’s in your body.”
I look at him in disbelief and then curl away to face the wall. “Babe.” Mark lies back down and strokes my stomach. Then he pulls his hand away and strokes the back of my neck. “What I’m saying is, you’re going to have an abortion, right?”
“Ya,” I say, but don’t tell him it’s too late for that. Stupid, stupid, stupid . I grate my teeth together, biting hard, cursing myself for leaving it so long.
Mark’s body relaxes and he slides his arm tight around me. “Even if you had kept it, I’d be here for you. One hundred percent.”
He rolls me over and we have sex, real hard, like he’s intentionally ramming the baby. And I let him, pretending I’m really into it, pulling him deeper, thinking the whole time, It would just be an accident .
Jasmyn and I are squatted behind the house, under the laundry vent that blows a cloud of clean above our heads. She is trying to convince me to go out tonight. I don’t want to let on like anything is wrong so I pretend I’m up for it. Jasmyn isn’t like Carla, in fact, she’s almost opposite. She’s hard and angry and says she’d be a good lawyer because she says she can get her way with anyone. I’m not sure I could ever call Jasmyn a friend, like Carla was, but it doesn’t matter. That’s what’s nice about Jasmyn and me: this funny acceptance that we are each other’s last choices.
“Come on. It’ll take your mind off things,” Jasmyn says, taking a deep drag of a joint. She can tell there’s something wrong with me. Something probably about Mark, but she doesn’t ask. High-pitched screams come from the kids playing in the backyard next door. “Brats,” Jasmyn hisses dramatically. She extends the butt out in front of her for me to take hold. I inhale, watching the flutters of red and blue through the holes in cedars, flickering like the last few spotty frames of an old home movie.
It’s a cold walk to the pool hall five long blocks away. The owner, Dan, will give us free drinks, “so long as the guys keep coming for you delicious young ladies.” Jasmyn complains the entire way, toes squished in her cousin’s high heels. She stops every few minutes to pull down the miniskirt that keeps creeping up into the warmth of
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