Sins of the Flesh (Exposed Series Book 1) Page 10

  “Well do you like him or not?” Kevin asked.

  I helped myself to a second drag since I’d heard the phrase puff, puff, pass somewhere before. Had Annie told me that? Was she trying to tell me she smoked pot?

  “Sometimes I like him.”

  Kevin blew air out from between his lips.

  “What?”

  “I just don’t know what that’s supposed to mean,” he said. “You either like him or you don’t.”

  “Do you like him?”

  He looked at me.

  “What?”

  “Can I be honest with you?”

  “Of course.”

  “I think you’re cool.”

  “Thanks,” I said, searching his hair for evidence of a bird’s nest. “I think you’re cool, too.”

  “But I think Ian is a huge tool.”

  “Do you even know him?”

  “I used to.”

  I exhaled slowly, trying to decide whether I owed it to Ian to defend him. But by the time I blew the smoke out, something in my body shifted.

  “Whoa.”

  “You okay?”

  I laughed out loud. “I feel… I feel like-”

  “Like what?”

  “Like my head is really light and my body is really heavy…”

  Kevin shook his head at me and smiled. “You’re baked.”

  “Ha!” I let my head fall back and looked at the gray blue sky for a moment. When I righted myself again it felt like I was moving in slow motion.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I actually feel really good.”

  “So the coughing was worth it?”

  “Yeah.” I turned to smile at Kevin and my eyes fell to his fat bottom lip. I felt a warm wave in my stomach and turned back to face the woods. “Sorry. I’ll try and keep it together.”

  “Don’t feel like you have to for my sake.”

  I folded my arms on the edge of the table, laid my head down, and stared at the porch. I was only going to rest there for a second, but I had never seen such interesting wood grain. I pursed my lips to keep from being swept away in the silliness of it all.

  Kevin didn’t say another word. Instead, he picked a song on his phone. When the music began to play, he put it down on the iron table, and I could feel the vibrations of the bass in my whole body.

  Later, he told me the song was called Roy G Biv by Boards of Canada. Which I never forgot. Because when I listened to it, I could see color on the back of my eyelids.

  Chapter 20: Dawn

  I thought I was seeing things when I looked at the caller id.

  “Hello?”

  “Dawn, it’s me.”

  “Carol?”

  “I know it’s been a while, but do you seriously not know my voice?”

  “No, I do. Of course, I do,” I said, sinking down onto the couch. “How are you?”

  “I’m sorry to bother you-”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “Don’t apologize, really. What’s going on?”

  “It’s Kate.”

  I scooted to the edge of the couch. “Is she okay?”

  “Yes- No- I don’t know.”

  “Well, Jesus, Carol. Is she okay or not?!”

  “She’s sick, Dawn.”

  “What kind of sick?”

  “Bulimic sick.”

  “Shit.”

  “I know.”

  “How long has she-”

  “I don’t know. I only found out last week when I went to confront her about her drinking.”

  “Her drinking?”

  “She’s totally reckless.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know. It’s not just beer. She drinks hard liquor, too. And she leaves empty bottles in her car and-”

  I tilted my soft pack so a cigarette would slide out onto the coffee table.

  “And she’s smoking, Dawn, and lying about it. I know she is, and you know how I feel about smoking.”

  I left the cigarette where it was and leaned back on the couch. “What can I do to help?”

  “I don’t know. You were wild. You’re the professional. How can I get through to her?”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “C’mon Dawn. Tell me how to help her. Tell me what to do.”

  I sat forward and took a deep breath. “Well, the drinking and the smoking-”

  “Are completely out of control.”

  “Calm down, Carol. Listen,” I said. “I would relax a bit about that stuff, okay. She wouldn’t be doing those things if she didn’t have friends.”

  I could practically hear her eyes rolling on the other end of the phone.

  “Even if they aren’t friends you approve of, it could be worse. It’s not like you can lock her up and keep her from experimenting.”

  “But she’s-”

  “Being reckless. I get it. But you’re not helping anything with your unrealistic zero tolerance policy.”

  “But-”

  “She’s about to go away to college for Christ sakes. What then?”

  Carol was quiet.

  “Carol?”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I know you don’t condone that stuff and I’m not telling you, too,” I said. “But the most important thing is that she’s safe.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Good. Because the only way you can keep her safe is if you stop being so black and white about everything.”

  Carol sighed. It was the kind of sigh I only ever heard from parents with teenagers.

  “Think about it. If she was at a party and her choices were to get in the car with someone who had been drinking or call you for a ride, you’d want her to call you right?”

  “Of course.”

  “But she’s never going to call you for help if she’s just going to get in trouble. Does that make sense?”

  “Yes.”

  “I know that’s not what you want to hear, but-”

  “No. It’s okay,” she said. “I appreciate it. I don’t have anyone else to ask. I don’t want people to think she’s a bad kid or that I’m a bad parent.”

  “Nobody thinks that.”

  “She’s really not a bad kid.”

  “I know,” I said. “And you’ll get through it. You just have to choose your battles.”

  “Okay.”

  “As far as her eating disorder, what have you tried so far?”

  “I took the lock off her door.”

  “How did that go?”

  “She threw a fit.”

  “No surprise there,” I said. “Anything else?”

  “I made her go to talk to a counselor.”

  “That’s good. And?”

  “She said she didn’t see how the woman could help her when she obviously couldn’t sort out her own food issues.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She was fat.”

  I shook my head. “You sent her to an overweight counselor?”

  “I didn’t know. It’s not like her weight was listed next to her credentials.”

  “Well, I’m sure the woman is good at what she does, but surely you can see Kate’s point.”

  “Yes.”

  “She’d probably be more receptive if you found someone that was a healthy weight and knew what she was going through.”

  “Is this my fault, Dawn?”

  “How could it be your fault?”

  “I don’t know. Because I’m always on a diet, and I bring all those women’s magazines into the house.”

  “I wish it were that simple.”

  “What should I do? It’s not like I can police her all day.”

  The pain in my sister’s voice was strangling my heart.

  “I just don’t understand why would she do this to herself? To her body?”

  “I can’t say in her case, Carol, but I’m sure it has something to do with stress.”

  “What can I do?”

  I felt a lump in my throat. “Be supportive. Be kind
. Don’t buy junk foods that will tempt her or that she’ll feel guilty about eating. Keep as much healthy stuff around as you can.”

  “Okay.”

  “And don’t give her too much space, but try not to suffocate her either.”

  “How long will it take for her to get better?”

  “Maybe two months,” I said. “Maybe a decade.”

  “Jesus.”

  I felt a tear roll down my cheek. “Look I have to go,” I lied. “But don’t worry, okay? Everything will be fine. Just hang in there, and I’ll talk to you soon.”

  I didn’t wait for her to say good-bye. I just hung up. I felt like if I didn’t, I might say something selfish. Something I’d regret.

  Chapter 21: Kate

  I was starting to like Kevin.

  Like, like him like him.

  Which was weird because he was nothing like Ian. He wasn’t blond, he wasn’t popular, he wasn’t always trying to get in my pants, and he wasn’t an asshole.

  Not that Ian was a “bad boy.” On the contrary, he’d probably never done anything bad in his whole life. Unless you count sissy attempts at hazing and premature ejaculation.

  And to be honest, I think the fact that Ian was an asshole is what made me like him in the first place. Because when he was nice to me, it made me feel special. Which sounds stupid now that I think about it.

  And I know I gave into to him too often. But only because I thought being submissive was supposed to feel good. Like in Fifty Shades. But it didn’t for me. Not once.

  So I must have been doing something wrong. Or he was. Or maybe that book was just good to be true. The parts I read anyway.

  I mean, I wanted to believe that a sexy billionaire might swoop me up in his helicopter and give me my first orgasm. But the reality was that I was much more likely to get picked up by someone on a skateboard, someone whose sexual confidence was the result of an unhealthy obsession with porn.

  But Kevin wasn’t like that. With his shy eyes, his thick curls, and his deep voice. He never tried to guess what color underwear I was wearing or stared at my chest. At least when I was looking at him.

  He was different. And not just cause he was a pot smoker. Though I have to admit I liked how he would take a drag and hold it in, how he would really savor the moment before he blew the smoke out. He always made this specific face when he exhaled, too. Like he was blowing out something ugly. And he never took his eyes off the smoke until it disappeared.

  I tried to figure out why he was such a gentleman. I thought it might be because he had so many sisters. Or maybe it was all the college parties he went to. Maybe he was just used to hanging out with smart girls.

  And I wondered what he knew about sex that Ian didn’t know. I mean, even if he didn’t have more technical skills, his dick had to be bigger than Ian’s. It just had to be. Everything else on him was bigger.

  And wasn’t a bigger dick supposed to feel better? Maybe that was why sex sucked with Ian. Cause he was too small.

  And yet Kevin was so shy. For all I knew, he was a virgin. Maybe he was one of those guys that wanted to wait for the right girl. So it would really mean something. Then again, I think nowadays that type of guy only exists in fairytales. And maybe rural, fundamentalist neighborhoods in areas that aren’t actually accessible by motorized transportation.

  Regardless, I could tell I liked him because I didn’t want to talk to my friends about him. I wanted to keep him all to myself. I couldn’t believe how normal and relaxed I felt with him.

  Usually I felt edgy outside the house, preoccupied with how I was going to stuff my face and throw up. Which I was now getting away with again by purging in the shower. It was great because no one bothered me in there or suspected anything. I didn’t even have to worry about flushing because everything went right down the drain. And since I was lathering soap the whole time, it didn’t smell like vomit either.

  Of course, I told myself I was getting better because my new strategy only allowed me to binge and purge once a day. But it didn’t suck any less.

  When I wasn’t with my friends, my life was consumed by it. It felt like a full time job. And it took a lot of energy to make sure I was always starving, binging, or purging.

  Which is why whenever Kevin passed me a joint, I welcomed it for the much needed distraction it provided.

  “Thanks.” I rested my elbow on the arm of my chair and raised it to my lips.

  He nodded and turned his eyes back to the woods behind his house.

  “Going out tonight?”

  He shrugged. “My friend’s band is playing downtown.”

  “Cool,” I said. “At a bar?”

  “Yeah. You want to come?”

  “I don’t have a fake,” I said. Which was the truth. Not that I’d be allowed to go in a million years.

  “I don’t know if I’m going to go anyway.”

  “Why wouldn’t you go?”

  He scrunched up his face like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell me.

  I passed him the joint.

  “There might be someone there I don’t really want to see.”

  “Who?”

  “Just this girl.”

  “Oh.” Huh. “A girl…?”

  “A girl I used to go out with.”

  “An ex?”

  “You could say that.”

  “And you still like her?” Please say no.

  “No,” he said. “I’m over it. But sometimes she gets drunk and tries to convince me we should get back together.”

  “A college girl?”

  “No. Yes. Well she’s in college now, but I’ve known her for a few years.”

  “Oh.” An older woman.

  “I thought if you wanted to come it might shut her up, ya know? If she saw me with someone else.”

  Oh my God breathe. “You mean I’d pretend to be your girlfriend?”

  Something flashed in his eyes. “Yeah. Pretend. Sorry, I wasn’t saying-”

  “No. It’s cool. I get it,” I said, wondering how far I’d have to go to convince her. “Sorry I can’t help you out.”

  “It’s a dumb idea anyway,” he said. “I just, I don’t know. Girls can be so crazy.”

  “You don’t have anyone else who could stand in for me?” I asked, digging shamelessly.

  He shrugged. “Not that she hasn’t met. But it doesn’t really matter. Mostly I just thought you might like the concert.”

  I was so high I thought I’d never come down. “Well thanks for the invite anyway.”

  “Sure.”

  I hoped it wouldn’t be the last time he ever invited me anywhere. I bet I’d like being his fake girlfriend.

  It would be like one of those cheesy teen movies where we started out just pretending, just to put on a show and fool everyone. And then one thing would lead to another and pretty soon we wouldn’t be able to tell our fake feelings from our real feelings. And then we’d finally realize it was true love just before the credits started to roll.

  Then the screen would go black because it wouldn’t be appropriate for the audience to see what happened next. Sigh.

  There were so many questions I was dying to ask. Like how long had he dated her, what did she look like, why did they break up, and how often did he still see her?

  But each question would just make me look crazier than the last. And I really wanted ‘crazy bitches’ to be our common enemy. I didn’t want there to be any question about how sane and chill I was. So I kept my mouth shut.

  But I couldn’t help but wonder what his ex knew about him that I didn’t and what it was exactly that made her want him back so bad.

  Chapter 22: Dawn

  I thought a lot about my final moments.

  I wondered where I would be when I took my last breath. I hoped I would be doing something exciting. Like hacking my way through the jungle with a machete. Or tubing down the Napo River. Or bargaining at the Otavalo market.

  I wondered whether the light would just go dim or if I’d be aw
are of what was happening. After all, since I wasn’t planning on dying in a hospital, I might not be too incapacitated by morphine to have a moment of clarity.

  Something like Nirvana.

  What a crazy stroke of luck that would be. Especially since I’ve never meditated a day in my life.

  Then again, I’d settle for a few flashbacks. And just in case I had the peace of mind to choose which memories I revisited, I had some picked out already.

  Flashback #1

  I would want to remember the first time I ate mushrooms when I was seventeen. I went to the beach with my best girlfriends and we put the mushrooms into tiny Oreo sandwiches to disguise the taste. Then we spent the next six hours laughing until our stomach muscles hurt. At one point, my friend Bridget swelled up like a giant blueberry. Just like Violet Beauregard in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. It was madness. Without question, that was one of the most joyful days I ever had. It was a privilege to share that beautiful day with those beautiful girls.

  Flashback #2

  Before my sister and I were old enough to ride bikes in our local Fourth of July parade, my Dad used to pull us in a little red wagon. He would decorate the wagon with blue and red streamers and my Mom would dress us in red, white, and blue. And we'd each get a little American flag which we would wave at the people watching the parade until our chubby little arms were sore. Sometimes people on the floats would throw candy to us and we would eat it as soon as it landed in the wagon. It was a simpler time. Back when Carol and I were best friends. Which lasted about as long as it took for us to outgrow that wagon.

  Flashback #3

  Shortly after I met Scott, we went on a vacation together to the Grecian Islands. One morning, I was lying naked in bed and felt the sun on my face. When I cracked my eyes open, I saw him standing between the open double doors that led out to our balcony.

  With his olive skin, his dark hair, and his perfect butt, he looked like he'd just arrived from Mount Venus. As I admired the view, I made a little waking up sound- sort of an internal sigh- and he turned around and smiled at me and said…

  “Dawn!”

  “Sorry.” I blinked away the slideshow I’d been imagining and cleared my throat. “Excuse me.”