Fragile Beasts (44 page)

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Authors: Tawni O'Dell

BOOK: Fragile Beasts
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I’m not saying that I don’t care about Starr, although I have to admit I cared a lot more about her while we were having sex than before and after it. Deep down I think she might be a warm, caring human being, but I only got this feeling while I was inside her and she was doing this amazing thing with her hips and her fingers. When I was touching her breasts, I wasn’t afraid of her anymore and while I was holding her perfect ass while she rode me, I didn’t think she was selfish and spoiled and heartless.

It was weird, though, how quickly those feelings went away as soon as we were done and she was putting her clothes on. I watched her and instead of feeling freaked out with joy, I felt kind of sad and cheated.

When I used to fantasize about doing it with Shelby, I never thought too much about putting it in her or giving her the hard one or all the stuff Klint’s buddies talk about. I wanted to experience her. I wanted to see her body and touch the pale softness of her, all the curves and hollows I don’t have. I wanted
to smell her hair and skin and kiss her everywhere. Then afterward if she’d let me give her the hard one, I wouldn’t object.

I didn’t get to do any of that with Starr. I’m not complaining about sex with her but days afterward when I was reliving it in my mind as I’ve been doing every minute for the past couple weeks since it happened, it seemed like I didn’t even get the kind of time and enthusiasm from her that she puts into lighting her cigarettes.

She didn’t even say anything to me while she was getting dressed, although I didn’t say anything to her either. I wanted to. I tried to come up with something good, but everything I considered sounded too sentimental or desperate to me.

I thought I’d see her again. I knew she was older than me and rich and beautiful and had an exciting life. I didn’t expect her to hang around and be my girlfriend or anything like that, but I didn’t think she’d completely blow me off. It didn’t make sense. She was the one who started everything, not me.

While I’ve been waiting to hear from her I’ve been giving a lot of thought to the male condition and applying my newfound knowledge to it.

My big question about men and sex is: Why do we ever do anything else? Why do we fight wars? Why do we waste our time playing video games and sports? Why do we have jobs? Why do we have a society? Why don’t we just have sex and then get something to eat when we’re hungry?

And why aren’t guys with wives the happiest guys in the world? A married guy has a woman living with him all the time. He doesn’t have to try and find her. She’s in his bed every night. He can see her naked any time he wants. He has constant access to sex.

Then one day when I was sitting in school, staring out the windows thinking about Starr’s breasts and how I’d do anything to see them again, the answer suddenly came to me: in order for guys to have sex all the time, they have to find women who want to have sex all the time.

Apparently, women don’t want to have sex all the time. This is the big shocker. Why not?

I’m way too inexperienced to even try and begin to answer that one, but this realization did help me figure out one of my other questions: What happens when there’s a world full of men who want to have sex all the time but can’t?

Sports. Video games. Wars.

These aren’t just words to me. This has become my life. For the first time ever, I want to play baseball, not just watch it. I want to get out there with them and swing a bat with all my might, sprint the bases as fast as I can, and slide into the mud. I want to run deep into center field, snag a fly ball, and throw it as hard as I can to get somebody out and ruin his dream.

But when I’m at home, all I want to do is zone out in front of a computer game and numb my mind.

I’ve also been feeling bad about a lot of things that I would’ve been able to shrug off in the past. Shelby’s stopped answering my texts and I’m worried she found out about Starr and me and now she hates my guts. She has no right to be mad at me because I had sex with her sister instead of her since she didn’t want to have sex with me and her sister did, but I don’t think Shelby would buy into my argument.

I feel bad about Klint. I can’t get Starr’s comment out of my head. She said he couldn’t get it up. Does that mean she did the same thing to him that she did to me but nothing happened? Does that mean he’ll never be able to do it with anyone? Or has he already done it with someone and I don’t know about it? If he did it with someone, why didn’t he brag to me about it? I feel bad about that. If he hasn’t ever done it and Starr humiliated him, I feel really bad about that.

I feel bad about the new tacoburgers that have replaced the regular cheeseburgers in the school cafeteria.

I feel bad I’m not getting laid every day.

Having sex has turned out to be the best and worst thing I’ve ever done.

On the way home, I’m leaning out the truck window like a bored dog, deep into thoughts about Starr and fantasizing that when we get home she’ll be visiting her aunt Candace and I’ll get to have sex with her again when I notice there’s an unfamiliar car parked in front of Miss Jack’s house.

My heart starts beating faster. I overheard Luis and Miss Jack talking one night about Starr. Her mom had called Miss Jack in hysterics because she’d left the country and no one knew where she was. Maybe it wasn’t true. Or maybe she’s come back.

As we get closer, I realize the car isn’t nice enough to belong to one of the Jack sisters.

It looks familiar but I can’t place it until I glance over at Klint and see the agitated look on his face. It’s Aunt Jen’s car.

“What’s Aunt Jen doing here?” I wonder.

I’ve seen Aunt Jen a few times since we moved in with Miss Jack.

Once she picked me up after school and we went to Eat N’ Park for some pie, and she took Klint and me out for dinner around Christmas and gave us gift cards to Best Buy. And she came to one of Klint’s first games this season.

Klint doesn’t get along that great with Aunt Jen but he doesn’t hate her the way he hates Mom unless she starts to talk about Mom, but she’s learned not to do that around him.

Right now he looks more irritated and disgusted than upset.

“I invited her to come visit us,” I tell him, “but she said she’d never do it. She said Miss Jack wouldn’t want her to and I asked her how she’d know that and she said she and Mom met her once when Mom was deciding if we could stay here …”

“I know,” Klint shouts at me. “You told me that a hundred times.”

“So what’s she doing here now?”

“How the hell would I know? Would you shut up?”

“Lay off!” I shout back.

He gives me a strange look.

“I mean it. Leave me alone.”

We don’t say anything else to each other.

He parks and we get out and head for the front door.

I’m the first one in the house. As I’m walking past Miss Jack’s parlor I notice her sitting in her favorite chair wearing a nice dress and eating something off a toothpick.

Our eyes meet and I’m about to say hi when hers flick back in front of her and I follow them and find Aunt Jen and Mom sitting across from her chugging down beers.

I stop so suddenly, Klint runs into me.

“Mom!”

She sets down her mug and jumps up. Aunt Jen does the same.

“Hey, baby,” she calls out to me, smiling.

She throws open her arms.

“Come give me a hug.”

I look behind me at Klint expecting to see the usual rage and loathing burning in his eyes, but this is the first time he’s ever been ambushed by Mom
and hasn’t been able to prepare himself to see her. His face is a white mask of fear.

I walk over to Mom and give her a hug.

It’s like taking a bag of sticks in my arms. She’s even skinnier than she was before, and her hair is even blonder. It’s almost as white as Miss Jack’s.

“Look how big you’re getting,” she tells me and ruffles my hair.

“How about you, Klint?”

She holds her arms open a second time.

He stares at her like he’s looking into one of those haunted house mirrors where he sees his own reflection at first, then watches it slowly rot away into a hideous ghoul.

He doesn’t move.

Mom lowers her arms and looks over at Miss Jack.

“He’s my shy one. He’s never been affectionate.”

I don’t know what Mom’s talking about, then I realize she’s putting on an act for Miss Jack, but I don’t know why.

“What are you doing here, Mom?”

“I was in town visiting Jen and thought I’d stop by and see how you’re doing.”

“She might be moving back here,” Aunt Jen provides.

Mom shoots her a look that would freeze blood.

“What’s your problem, Jen?” she hisses at her. “Can’t you let me tell anybody anything?”

“Sorry,” Aunt Jen says.

“What do you mean?” Klint asks.

His voice sounds like it’s coming from the bottom of a well.

“Just what she said. I might be moving back here.”

“With Jeff?” I ask.

Aunt Jen starts to open her mouth, and Mom silences her with another terrible look.

“No,” Mom says.

“Did you break up?” I ask, hopefully.

“Something like that,” she sighs irritably and collapses back onto the couch.

The performance is over. Pretending to care and be cheerful has worn her out. She tosses a few nuts in her mouth and starts crunching loudly.

“Where’s Krystal?”

“She’s staying at a friend’s house.”

“Is she going to move back with you?”

“Of course. What do you think? I’m just going to leave her on the side of the road somewhere in Arizona? Although I have to tell you sometimes I think about it,” she laughs. “She can be a little bitch sometimes. Can I have another beer?” she asks, turning to Miss Jack.

“I’m afraid we’re out of beer,” Miss Jack says.

“Well, that would be great, I guess,” I say, glancing around nervously at everybody. “Klint and me could come visit you.”

“You won’t be visiting. You’ll be living with us,” Mom explains.

I look behind me at Klint, who’s standing perfectly still and unblinking and doesn’t even seem to be breathing. For a panicked moment, I think he might have been turned into stone, and I look back at Mom half-expecting to see a bunch of Medusa snakes writhing beneath her cloud of hair.

“The only reason I agreed to this setup was so the two of you wouldn’t have to move and leave your school and leave your team.”

She says the words
school
and
team
in a sneering voice like they’re the two stupidest things in the world.

“Besides, Miss Jack said she’s sick of having you around.”

Miss Jack opens her eyes wide and pulls her head back like she’s just smelled something bad.

“I never said anything of the sort.”

“I told her even if I moved back, the two of you could keep living here since you’re all settled in, but she doesn’t want you. She said it’s better if you go live with your mother.”

“I never said …”

“You’re a liar,” Klint shouts.

The hate and anger I’m used to seeing in his eyes whenever Mom’s around finally appears. His face turns a dark shade of red and his eyes begin to bulge.

“No, I’m not!” Mom shouts right back at him. “She said she wanted to get rid of you. She said …”

He backs out of the room. Luis happens to be standing there between him and the front door. I think it’s the only thing that prevents him from tearing out to his truck and driving west until he hits the ocean. He looks confused when he sees Luis and turns around and runs up the stairs to his room instead.

Everyone looks stunned except Mom.

“I used to think he was just dumb and mean like his father,” she says, “but now I’m beginning to think he’s crazy.”

I go after Klint.

I’m halfway up the stairs when I hear Miss Jack calling after me.

I don’t want to see her. I don’t want to talk to her, but there’s something I have to know.

I stop and look down at her.

“Did you know she was coming?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“How could you do that to us?”

She seems very small standing at the bottom of all those stairs. She folds her hands together in front of her and clears her throat.

“I thought if you knew she was coming, you might have refused to see her. I thought it was important that you talk to her.”

“You should’ve told us,” I say.

She calls my name one more time, but I don’t turn around again.

I run up the stairs to Klint’s room.

He’s inside. The door’s locked and I can hear him moving furniture up against it.

“Come on, Klint,” I plead. “Let me in. This is stupid.”

I wait for him to call me a name. I want him to call me a name. He doesn’t say anything.

I pound on his door.

“Come on! Open up!”

Nothing.

I give up and go to my own room. There’s no way I’m going back downstairs. I don’t care if Mom gets mad at me for not saying good-bye.

I think about moving furniture up against my door, but I know no one’s going to come looking for me.

My bed reminds me of Starr. My whole room reminds me of Starr.

I go sit at my desk in the fading light and look outside my window. A fiery copper sun wrapped in plum-colored clouds is setting behind the distant hills. Our mountains aren’t spectacular or intimidating like the pictures I’ve seen of mountains out west in places like Arizona. They remind me of a bunch of sleeping old giants lying on their sides wrapped in gray blankets.

Krystal’s fairy painting is almost done. I’ve added the glitter paint. All that’s left are a few fine details.

The way Mom talked about her made me nervous. I’ve never really worried about her because I figured she must be fine. She’s the one Mom chose to take along. She wasn’t left behind.

Today’s the first time it occurred to me that Mom wanting you around might be worse than Mom not wanting you around.

I get up from my desk, walk over to my bed, and flop back on it where I lie and stare at the ceiling while the room slowly grows completely dark.

The next thing I know, I’m waking up and my alarm clock says it’s after 10
P.M
.

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