Baron is charged, goes to court, found guilty and goes to prison for life. I never see him, and my vision of him is destroyed forever, and I spend the rest of my life wondering how I could have ever fallen for such a monster. I push away everyone in my life and die alone as an old cat lady.
Or Baron uses his contacts to beat the charges, but I never believe he was truly innocent. I try to pretend I can be in relationship with him, but I’m kidding myself. I’m miserable, we break up, and I have nothing. No money. No man and a deadbeat mom.
But maybe he’s not guilty?
I hate myself for feeling like he probably is. For fuck’s sake, he assaulted me that night when Harry came over. Even I didn’t know that I wanted it then. Things could have easily gone the wrong way after that. What if he’s done this with other girls before? What if he read the situation wrong, and they didn’t want him? Or what if he just didn’t care…?
I’m choking back sobs for the entire ride back to the house. Just to make things worse, Mr. HNG8NCH is parked in the driveway. As I make my way up to the front door, the rain begins to fall. I reach the steps but don’t go inside right away. Instead, I stand there and let the rain soak me. The chill feels good; it helps to distract me from the anguish I’m feeling inside.
Maybe I’ll just sit out here and let the water carry me away…
But I’m not even allowed a tortured moment to myself. The front door to the house opens, and my mom’s boy-toy struts out, grinning like a dumbass who just got laid. Yuck.
“Oh, hey,” he smirks. “What’s going on? You must be Pintsy.”
“Pixie,” I reply.
“Ahhh. Pixie.” He looks like a frat leader, and without shame, totally checks me out. “I see you got most of your genes from your mom.”
“Fuck off,” I groan. “I’m not going to sleep with you too.”
He just shrugs and feigns innocence, but I know exactly what he was thinking. Score us both and score major points with the boys.
“Maybe ask your mom about me. Maybe you’ll change your mind.”
He shoulders past me, and as he does, pinches me hard on the ass.
“Ow!” I yelp. I whirl around to hit him, but he’s already off the steps and striding quickly toward his car.
“Have a good one!” he calls back as he hops in and peels off into the rain.
I’m either going to explode or flat-out die as I walk into the house, dripping cold water all over the floor. My mom, however, is lounging on the coach by the fire, sipping champagne and basking in the warmth like a content cat.
“Oh hi, honey,” she says, her eyes closed. “I hope Jeff didn’t bother you on the way out.”
“Of course not,” I reply sarcastically. “Jeff was quite a gentleman.”
“Unlike some men.”
As I pull off my soaked shoes, I glance up at her. “What does that mean?”
“Don’t act innocent.” She opens her eyes to me, and the chill inside me intensifies. It’s like I’m suddenly not looking at my mother; it’s like I’m looking at a monster. “I know you’re fucking him.”
“I—”
Her words hit me in the chest like a bowling ball, snatching the breath from my lungs. I can’t even attempt to feign ignorance. She caught me completely off guard and the truth is written all over my face.
“You disgusting little slut,” she replies, shaking her head. My mom has said a lot of terrible things to me throughout my life, but never like this. Her tone…it’s like she’s done with me. Completely done with me. There’s no anger. She’s not hurt. She’s just done. I’m nothing to her.
“Mom…”
“You sit here and judge me for my infidelity, and then go off and fuck your fucking stepfather!? What did he do? Romance you? Promise you he’d marry you and give you all his money? Take you out to a fancy dinner and buy you a bunch of fucking diamonds or something?”
I’m sobbing, but manage to choke up a laugh.
“If only you knew…”
“Well, I don’t have to know shit,” she says, rising from the couch. She goes to the kitchen and pours herself another glass of champagne. “Because he’s going to prison for a long time.”
“Wait, what!?” I blurt out. “You know about the police?”
Shaking her head, my mom makes her way back to her spot on the couch and lies back. It’s as if she’s now the owner of the place. The queen. In her mind, Baron is already out of the picture.
I know before she even says it and my heart sinks into my feet.
“Honey”—she smiles—“who do you think it was that called them?”
14
Pixie
I’m crying outside in the rain when he pulls up.
Harry. Backwards hat and wife-beater on, looking like his dad just told him he was getting ten grand as a graduation present. He stops his car less than a foot from me and rolls down the window.
“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” I don’t even bother responding. What’s the point? Today couldn’t get any worse, and I’m not going to suddenly turn him into a good guy by cursing him out. “It’s raining, you know. Why don’t I take you for a ride? My car’s nice and warm.”
Again, I give him nothing.
There’s a snail slowly moving toward the garden by my left foot. I watch him as the rain falls. What would it be like to be a snail, I wonder? I doubt he’s burdened with emotions related to his terrible mother and stepfather. He doesn’t have to worry about the police. All he has to do is get from the pavement to the dirt and find some leaves to eat.
Snails eat leaves, right?
“Hey,” he says, revving
