A Woman Gone Mad (12 page)

My weight has dropped to nearly seventy pounds. My skin is pale because I hate the sun—hell, I hate summer. My once thick, shiny blond hair is now thin, dull, and stringy.

I can’t even tell you how it happened, but somehow I started dating Clark. He’s cool, I guess. He doesn’t ask questions, and he doesn’t talk a lot. We mainly either fucked or just stayed drunk and high the whole summer. Clark and I have no delusions of happy ever after. I think this is the main reason I keep him around. Well, that and he supports my new habits that help keep
him
away.

It’s the first day of my junior year of high school. Allen is in the passenger’s seat, and he is totally stoked about starting high school today.

“Ok, Lil, so at lunch, if I can’t find Robert and Lee, I can come hang out with you and your friends at your table, right? That’s cool with you?”

I snicker at a red light while lighting up my morning smoke, inhale, and on an exhale tell him, “Allen, babe, your sis doesn’t have any friends. I fuckin’ fly solo, and that’s when I
do
go to school. Plan on skipping at least two or three days a week, little bro.”

“Wait, you skip? Where do you go? And what the hell do you mean you don’t have any friends? I know you hang out with Clark. What about his friends?”

As I pull into the school’s parking lot looking for a spot, I tell Allen, “Right, okay, buddy. First of all, everyone skips school—
EVERYONE
. Second, Clark doesn’t have any friends either. At least none that I know of, huh.”

It dawns on me that I’ve never had a boyfriend in high school. And that I’ve never paid attention to Clark at school before, so I really don’t know if he has any friends. Hell, he could have been prom king last year and I honestly wouldn’t know.

Then I realize that I don’t know a damn thing about Clark. We never go anywhere other than behind old abandoned buildings or houses. We hang out in the back of his truck. That’s it. I’m suddenly nervous, and I’m trying like hell to remember when and where I met Clark, but for the life of me, I can’t remember. I swear it was like one day he wasn’t there in my peripheral, but the next day he was. I never asked and he never explained.

Allen and I hook our backpacks on our backs and as we walk towards the school’s entrance. I watch him from the corner of my eye watching me then adjusting his walk and backpack to mimic mine. I reach over and wrap my arm around his shoulder.

Damn, when did this boy get taller than me?

“Love you, Allen,” I whisper close to his ear. Then I give his cheek a big ol’ smoochie.

“Aw…damn, come on! That’s freaking gross!”

Laughing as we walk through the doors, I let him step a few feet away. “What? I can’t kiss my baby brother anymore?”

“Ahhh, no. Please refrain from that shit in the future.”

“Fine, whatever. You need me at lunch, kid, I’ll be in the courtyard.” I point out a lone table off to the side. “Right there, at that table, okay?”

“Jesus, Lil, eat some fried chicken and find a friend. I can’t take this dark, depressed version of you much longer, especially if we’re going to be around each other 24/7.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure thing. I’ll get right on it kid.” Then I yell over my shoulder as we start walking opposite directions, “Hey! Have a good first day, baby brother!”

I hear him groan, “Gahhh, shut the hell up!” as I walk farther away.

Making my way outside towards the T-buildings, I suddenly feel my backpack weight get so heavy that it has me stumbling back. Then I’m caught and steadied by Clark. “’Sup, Lil. Thought you’d skip school the, I don’t know, first month before you graced us with your presence.”

“Oh whatever the hell, Clark. Just shut the fuck up, okay?” I’m shuffling around the other students.

“No, no. I’m glad you’re here. Now I get to show you off.” He waves at some guy we walk past.

“Show me off? Show me off to who?” I’m beginning to think that maybe I should have talked to Clark a little more over the summer.

“Everybody. My boys, all my friends… None of them believe that my girl is
the
Lillian Shaw.” He winks at me.

What in the fucking hell?

“Clark, you don’t have any friends. Or boys. And I think you’re insane if you for one second think anyone in this Godforsaken hellhole knows or cares who the fuck I am.”

“Aw, come on, Lil. Don’t sell yourself so short. Just ’cause you think everyone is not worth knowing or associating with doesn’t mean they think the same thing about you.”

“You’re fucking delusional. Go to fucking class,” I say, taking the steps two at a time up to my first class.

At lunch time, I make my way to the vending machine and get a bag of chips and a Diet Coke before I head out to my table, only to be stopped dead in my tracks.

Holy fucking shit! Fucking HELL! Clark is fucking popular!
I spot him at
my
table surrounded by the
it
crowd. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by the fact that he is popular. I mean, shit, he is fine as hell.

He’s about a foot taller than my five foot one. He has dark brown, almost black hair and chocolate brown eyes. He’s built—not a damn ounce of fat on him. He has tattoos that circle both biceps and I’m pretty sure he has something scrawled across his back but I’ve never been interested enough to ask or confirm this.

Shit. Guess I should have at least tried to talk to him. Then I would have been prepared for this new development.

“Yeah, sure you would have been prepared. Prepared to drop his ass like the bad habits you
should
drop. I like him. He doesn’t make things difficult. He’s laid back. Now all we gotta do is get him
—
and you
—
away from the drugs and alcohol and we’ll have ourselves a nice boyfriend with no complications so we can just finish out these last two years of school and start our real life.
”

Shut the hell up, Lilly. I don’t need your shit right now.

I try to veer off to side unnoticed, only to immediately get busted by Clark.

“Lil! Come here. Where are you going?” He’s freaking yelling across the damn court yard.

Shit. Fuck. Damn. Hell. Fuckity, fuck, fuck!

I spin around and start heading toward him. I’m in blue jeans and a ratty, old, fitted t-shirt that has one of Poison’s album covers on the front. Don’t ask me where I get the shit I wear. It appears, and if it’s ratty and shitty-looking, I wear it to match my ratty and shitty emotions.

“Hey, Clark,” I say quietly when I get close enough to the table for him to hear. “Why aren’t y’all at your usual table? What brings you out here?”

They all start whooping and hollering, laughing and slapping Clark on the back. “Motherfucker wasn’t lying!” I hear some guy say.

“Told y’all. I fucking told y’all.” Clark looks like he has just conquered something. Then he starts making introductions while I just stand there like a damn idiot. “Lil, this is Joey, Mike, Brad, Conner, my boy Nick…” I meet each guy’s stare with a glance and a smile when Clark announces their names, but when my eyes land on Nick’s, I stop.

He is absolutely gorgeous. His light eyes dance between blue and silver. And shit, he’s tall—like Leo tall—with a face of nothing but strong lines and angles under the blackest head of hair I have ever seen on a guy—inky black. And it looks like he just rolled out of bed after a damn good lay. His gunmetal eyes go to a clear sky blue when he smiles at me, realizing that he has snared my attention. I duck my head when feel a blush shoot up from my neck to my hairline and try and hide it beneath the curtain of my hair. I stand there studying my shoes as Clark finishes the introductions.

“Donny, Chris, Grayson, and of course you know your little brother Allen and his boy Robert.” My eyes fly up to see Allen smirking at me. “Guys, this is my girlfriend, Lil. Lil, these are my boys.”

“Hey, y’all,” I whisper before I lose my nerve to even speak.

I get a return chorus of guy ‘heys’ and ‘hi’s,’ along with a couple ‘what ups.’

I head over to Allen, trying to ignore the fact that Clark just went from the most uncomplicated thing in my life to making my life so complicated I can’t see straight.

“Hey, Allen. What’s up, Robert?” I smile at them then shoot my eyes to Allen and plead to him not to say anything.

Of course he does. “Ahhh, no, Lil. Clark doesn’t have any friends at all. You’re right.” He chuckles then realizes I’m pissed and tries to use his hand to cover up his smile.

“Oh shut the hell up, Allen!” I yell-whisper at him. “You think I would have stuck around if I’d have known this shit?” Then I feel Clark come up behind me and take my backpack off my shoulders, only to settle the weight of his arms around them.

“Known what shit, Lil?” he asks while kneeing the back of my locked knees and making my legs buckle underneath me. I don’t fall but only because Clark holds me up and says under his breath, “I knew you’d freak the fuck out. Knew it the second I clocked your little ass hiding at that party, all huddled up in the corner, trying to be invisible, and getting yourself hammered on free liquor.”

What the fuck? What damn party?
I think to myself, quickly flipping through my early summer days and coming up completely empty-handed.

I’m sitting in my last class of the day, waiting on the bell to ring, when I feel my chair get snatched back an entire foot. I gasp and turn around to see Wesley Jacobs’s fine-as-fucking-hell face an inch away from mine. This boy is HOT! He is so damn hot he has been through the whole female population, and it’s rumored that he has done so twice. I’ve heard stories in the locker room about this guy’s skills in bed. The words ‘sex god’ are always related to the words ‘Wesley Jacobs.’ I’ve also walked into the girls’ restroom on his conquests crying and sobbing over him more times than I can count. I am not in the least bit interested in whatever he is about to try to sell me or say to me. At least until he opens that sexy-as-fuck mouth.

“Lil.” And he has the huskiest damn voice I’ve
ever
heard. “Get rid of your boy. I’ll be at your house at seven to pick you up on Friday.”

“I’m fuckin’ sorry, but exactly who the hell are you?” My voice is a shrill squeak.

“Don’t do that, baby. Just don’t. It’s embarrassing to both of us. Now make sure to tell you parents I’m coming. Gets awkward when I ring the doorbell and the first thing I meet is the end of Daddy’s shotgun.”

“Again, I’m fucking sorry. But. Who. The. Hell. Are. You?” I’m pissed now, and I really want to know who this asshole thinks he is.

When the bell rings, he stands up, grabbing my backpack off the floor and holding it away from me and above his head. “Okay, Lil. That how you wanna play it?”

“I’m not playing shit with you, dammit. Give me my bag!” I’m almost yelling and hear the teacher clear his throat. I look over and see that the classroom has cleared out. Coach Jones cocks his eyebrow up at me. “Sorry, Coach Jones.”

“See you tomorrow, Lillian.”

I storm out of the classroom
without
my backpack, thinking,
Fuck it. He can carry my damn backpack straight to hell. Damn it. I should have skipped school today! Has everyone the whole school lost their minds?

“Lil.” Wes is jogging up behind me. “Wait up, speedy.”

I’m so fired up and pissed off that I don’t give a shit how loud I am or crazy I look. I spin around, ready to hand him his balls in front of God and everyone else.

“Listen, motherfucker. I realize you have an ego the size of Texas and a brain and dick the size of an infant, but it fucking spells out like this: Stay the fuck away from me, lose my damn name, or I will fuck you up. Do you understand me, asshole, or shall I spell it out in letters instead of words?”

People walking by slow to watch our debacle. Then, when Wes looks in their direction, they scurry away.

“You gonna fuck me up, Lil? Huh? That what you think?” He keeps inching closer and closer to me.

Shit, this guy is so damn country, and I had
NO IDEA
how freaking enormous he is until now that he’s towering over me. Now I feel like a mouse. Or a baby mouse. Or the runt baby mouse. Shit.

“Okay, Lil. Whatever I said about Clark? Yeah, scratch all that. I want this motherfucker…and I want him
BAD,” I hear Lilly’s whore ass say and see her scooping her cleavage up then bending down to zip up the worst hooker-heel boots I have ever seen.

Jesus Christ, Lilly, I AM NOT A WHORE. YOU are the WHORE, you crazy bitch.

“Uh huh,”
she slurs around her red lipstick.
“You’re the one talking to the voices in your head, doll. Now be nice to him. He’s fucking beautiful. It’s the least you can do.”

Wes wraps his arms around me, settling my backpack on my shoulders, then rests his hands on top of the straps.

I crane my neck back and look up into his green eyes.
Fucking hell, he is beautiful.

“Gonna fuck me up, Lil? Naw, you ain’t. Can’t fuck me up. You fucked me up your freshmen year, and now all these years later I’ve just been biding my time, waitin’ on your ass to come around, come back to life, get those fuckin’ shadows out from behind your pretty blue eyes. Now they ain’t all gone, still see a few, but I’mma take care of those for ya, okay, baby?”