Because I'm Disposable (7 page)

Chapter Eleven

My legs were a million miles long.
At least. Slouched into Seth’s parent’s couch the way I was left me with the sense that my body was infinitely shorter than my legs. I could have been six inches tall from the waist up, and I was having trouble focusing on anything except the way my body was sinking slowly into oblivion. I kept picturing myself disappearing butt first into the crack between the couch back and my seat cushion. Would anyone look for me? Mona and company would probably be too stoned to care.

I shifted my rear forward a few i
nches. There, problem solved—now I could relax. Garrett had the right idea, he was slumped over an unnaturally large throw pillow, hugging it like it was his most cherished possession. He looked to be about thirty-seconds from the world’s best nap. I could totally join him; a nap sounded amazing.

Mona pulled a pack of Newports out of Seth’s pocket and crinkled her Barbie-doll nose in distaste. “Bay-bee.” Her voice was an exaggerated whine that grated on my ears. “I thought you were gonna switch to Marlboroughs. You know I like them better.”

Seth rolled his eyes under half-closed lids. “Chill, babe. They’re just smokes. Light one and relax.”

Mona harrumphed and slumped down into the chair next to him. She took out two and tandem lit them the way she had in the school bathroom. Only this time, Seth was the recipient of her courtesy light. Then, she tossed the pack into my lap.

If I’d had any hope of getting out of actually smoking one, it died a painful death when Seth pitched a lighter at me. Now I was on the spot, and the only way to save face was to light one.

So I did.

I took a short, shallow drag and crossed my fingers that the smoke would be smoother in my lungs than the last time. It irritated my throat on the way down, and I fought the compulsion to gulp the air down. But I didn’t cough it back up. Score. The second hit was easier still, and by the time the cigarette was half gone, I was a pro at everything except holding it believably. I was the king of Cigarette Mountain. And that black hole of a couch was my throne. I set my smoky conquest in the ashtray on the coffee table and smiled triumphantly.

My eyelids were heavy, like I’d woken up before I was ready, or had gone too long without sleep. Everything about the room was relaxing, the bland colors, the uber-comfortable, swallow-me-whole sofa, the pleasant almost-numbness in my middle. I let my lids fall and rested my
head on the back of the couch.

* *
* * *

“Callie, wake up.” Mona’s Tinkerbell voice was an airy tintinnabulation in my ear. I opened my eyes just as far as I needed to in order to focus on her.

She giggled. “Wake up, sleepyhead.” I’d fallen asleep?

My mouth couldn’t be dryer if I’d spent the last two hours sucking on a shammy towel. I must have been sleeping with my mouth open. The razor-sharp sting of embarrassment sliced through my gut, and my pulse kicked it into high gear. I slowly peeled my eyelids the rest of the way open and blinked a few times to clear the blur of grogginess clouding my vision. When everything came into focus, I lifted my head and looked around. I was still in the same position on Seth’s couch. How long had I been asleep? I pulled my phone out of my back pocket to check the time.

Seth’s ghost-pale face loomed uncomfortably close on my other side, distracting me from my phone. “Don’t worry, sweets. We have time for another jay before you head back to school.” Sweets? And he wanted to get high again. Or was I still high? I was groggy and still had trouble concentrating on anything not two feet from my face.

By the time we were finished smoking, I’d given up concentrating on anything. I lifted my phone and checked the time, but by the time I lowered the phone to my lap, I’d already forgotten what it read. I check it again, and once more after that. At this rate, I would never make it back to school in time to catch the bus home. Days could have passed already, for all I’d been aware of the time. And I couldn’t care less.

“Time to go!” Mona’s cheerful voice echoed off my eardrums as she danced to her feet and all but twirled across the room. How she could have so much energy right then, I would never know. I could barely muster the drive to get up off the couch. But I did. Link would be waiting for me in student parking when school let out, and I had the gnawing feeling that school was letting out soon.

Getting up off the couch and adjusting my clothes took days, weeks maybe. I tugged at the hem of my black sweater at least twenty times before I was satisfied that it was sitting flat against the waistband of my jeans. I stepped with care as I followed Mona and Garrett toward the door. I didn’t feel unsteady on my feet, but I was certain that one wrong move would topple me over. Or at least make me look stupid stumbling to catch my step. Navigating a flat floor had never been so stressful before.

Seth didn’t budge from his chair, and for some reason my mind hitched on that tiny detail. I’d never had a boyfriend before, but shouldn’t he have walked Mona to the door? Given her a kiss goodbye? Mona didn’t seem at all bothered by his lack of interest in her departure. Link would have walked me out and probably opened the car door for me. And he wasn’t even my boyfriend.

Then again, Link wouldn’t have gotten high. Maybe Seth was a wonderfully attentive boyfriend when he wasn’t baked. Or, maybe he was always baked, and this was normal for him.

The return trip was infinitely longer than the drive out to Seth’s place, and I was grateful for the fresh air when I finally climbed out of Garrett’s car and stepped onto the street outside of the student parking lot. The gate had already been wheeled away from the entrance and students were milling about inside the chain-link fence. School was out.

“I gotta go find my ride,” I told Mona.

“Okay, hun, I’ll catch you tomorrow at lunch?” She was inviting me to hang with her at lunch again? Apparently, falling asleep on her boyfriend’s couch wasn’t a party foul.

I nodded.

“And don’t forget Jason’s party this weekend; it’s gonna be totes fun!” She wrapped me in a one-sided hug, letting go just as I raised my arms to reciprocate.

I dropped them awkwardly to my sides. “Totes.”

Garrett climbed up onto the car so that he was leaning over the roof toward us. “Bye, Callie! See ya tomorrow!” His voice was too loud, but his grin was wide and genuine and largely effeminate. I wasn’t used to such flagrant displays of enthusiasm. I shot him a small smile and a shoulder high half-wave before ducking my head and making for the parking lot.

I found Link standing next to his truck. He looked relaxed, leaning against the driver’s side door with his hands in his pockets. His face lit with the sweetest smile when he spotted me, but faded as I neared. I looked down at my clothes, checking for the gazillionth time that everything was just right. There were no stains on my clothes, no rips, tears, or even wrinkles. Nothing was out of place.

“You’re stoned,” he announced when I stopped in front of him. Was I wearing a sign? Was it written on my forehead? I darted my head from side to side, almost turning completely around in my efforts to see if anyone was close. When I was satisfied no one else was near enough to hear us, I turned back to him, but I couldn’t look him in the eye. Instead, I followed the braiding of the ties at the collar of his hood.

“How did you know?”

He chuckled, but it was a humorless sound. “You look about as high as I’ve ever seen anyone.” He reached out and pulled my backpack from my shoulder, then tossed it through the open truck window. Gentle fingers landed at my elbow and urged me around the truck, where he opened the passenger door. As soon as I was settled in the seat, he shut the door and jogged around to his side.

“You were with Mona Fleming, right?” Link asked as he climbed in and started the engine. We started a slow crawl out of the lot.

“Yeah.”

“And you skipped class?”

Part of me wanted to rage against his disapproving-parent tone, but part of me knew exactly why he was disappointed. I was a little disappointed in myself. But mostly, I was apathetic about everything. Maybe being stoned was mellowing me out. Or maybe I wouldn’t have cared even if I wasn’t. I didn’t answer him—I didn’t need to.

“Why?” He didn’t sound so much disapproving as curious. He wasn’t berating me; he genuinely wanted to understand why I would skip class to get high.

I watched the road ahead of us to avoid having to look at him. “I didn’t know we were getting high when I left campus. Leaving seemed so much easier than sitting through Miss Callahan’s monotone Calc lessons.”

Link snorted. “Yeah, she could make a roller coaster sound boring.” We rode in silence for a few blocks. Then, “What’ve you got going on tonight?”

Until recently, my Mondays after school were reserved for basketball practice and my evenings set aside for straightening up the house, making dinner, and doing homework. But I wasn’t on the team anymore, and missing most of my classes today left me with no idea what the assignments were. We didn’t eat together as a family anymore—more often than not, I had cereal or ramen for dinner now. And I hadn’t lifted a finger to clean since Dad bit it. “Not a whole lot.”

“Wanna go
downtown with me? We could see that new movie, Dread House. Maybe grab something to eat.” Was he asking me on a date?

“Uh, sure. That sounds like fun.” Except that I wasn’t into horror movies.

He steered onto our road and parked along the curb in front of his house. “Cool, I’ll check movie times and text you.” And he was out of the vehicle.

I followed suit, slinging my backpack over my shoulder and trying to effect a casual air as I made a beeline for my house. “See ya later.”

As I shut my front door behind me, I caught a glimpse of Link still standing next to his truck watching me.

Chapter Twelve

“Cal, you’re pacing like a caged lion.
Chill out.” Corrine was stretched out across her bed, swinging her feet in the air and thumbing through one of those girly magazines she loved so much.

I reached the window, turned, and retraced my steps across the room for what must have been the tenth time. My fingers unconsciously found the mid-thigh he
m of my skirt and tugged. I still wasn’t used to wearing anything other than loose-fitting shorts and jeans.

“Quit messing with your clothes. You look hot.”

I knew she wouldn’t lie to me, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to believe that I was hot. I smoothed sweaty palms down my white T-shirt and surveyed myself in the mirror. I looked like a catholic schoolgirl’s colorblind sister in a small, white tee and a black and white plaid skirt. Other than my combat boots, Corrine had dressed me. “Are you sure? Maybe I should go with the red dress.” I motioned toward the strapless, nylon number laid out across my bed.

Corrine shook her head emphatically. “Not if you insist on wearing those.” She pointed at my feet and grimaced. I shrugged. I wasn’t so much attached to the boots as I was set against wearing a pair of Corrine’s heels. This date was going to be awkward enough without spending every minute of it trying not to break an ankle. Or my neck.

The doorbell rang at exactly 6:59 PM. Corrine leapt to her feet and scrambled for the door. She was out of the room and halfway down the stairs faster than I’d seen her move in weeks. By the time I made it out onto the landing, she was greeting Link and urging him in the front door.

“Thanks, I’m okay,” he told her when she tried to tug his coat from his shoulders. “I’ll just hold on to
…” His eyes locked onto me as I descended the stairs. The intensity of his stare had me once again brushing nervous fingertips over the hem of my skirt to make sure I wasn’t showing anything higher up than my thighs. He crossed the entryway and met me as I stepped off the last stair.

His eyes lowered to my lips, and his head dipped. For one fleeting moment, I thought he was about to kiss me.

Then Corrine cleared her throat. Link took a step back, but grabbed my hand in his. Corrine followed on our heels like an excited puppy, and produced a thick, black wrap-around sweater. Link helped me put the sweater on, then led me to the door and opened it for me. He almost shut her nose in the door once we were on the other side of it. Without a doubt, my sister would be waiting up for me when I got home, wanting to know all the sordid details—and even the boring ones.

Link placed a steady hand at the small of my back and guided me to his truck. Before I could reach for the passenger door handle, he reached around me to open it.

“Thanks,” I mumbled and took care not to flash him anything inappropriate as I climbed in. The door slammed shut. Was this guy for real? He stood when I entered a room, opened and closed doors for me. Looked at me like I was the most expensive treasure he’d ever seen.

He grazed me with that reverent look when he got into the driver’s seat, then focused on starting the engine and pulling out onto the road. Wh
y was he being so nice to me—did he want something? He could be trying to get into my pants. The thought sent disappointment plummeting through me. It would be my luck. The first male to ever—in my entire life—show me any kindness
would
be in it for the goods.

I turned toward him on the bench seat. His hair was perfectly styled into short spikes
, and his brown leather bomber jacket looked brand new. His lips were puckered and his brows drawn in concentration, but then his features relaxed as we pulled up to a stop light. He turned to me with a toothy grin, like he was about to say something cute.

“I’m not going to have sex with you.” I cut him off before he could speak.

His smile died a slow, confused death, and his eyes widened. Then, “Well, that’s good. They’d probably kick us out of the theater if you tried.”

I snorted. The boy had jokes. “I meant in general. If you’re being nice to me because you think I’ll be an easy lay, you’re barking up the wrong virgin.” The light turned green.

Link steered through the intersection and pulled into the parking lot of Mill’s Bakery, already closed for the night. He shifted into park and turned to face me, propping one jean-clad knee up on the seat between us. A blush so deep it was clear even in the moderate darkness crept across his face. I’d embarrassed him. “Callie, I don’t want to sleep with you.”

No. I’d embarrassed myself. “Oh.” I tried to turn away from him, but he gripped my arm with gentle fingers.

“No, wait! I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, you’re sexy, yeah. But, I want more than an easy lay.” Those fingers slipped down to wrap around my own. His hand was warm and soft on mine, comforting. Loving. He was being too sweet; I was feeling too awkward.

I had to break the spell. “You want a difficult lay?”

Link chuckled and faced forward. Mission accomplished. He put the truck back into drive and pulled back out onto the main road. The rest of the drive to the movie theater was spent in awkward silence.

*
* * * *

My entire body was on edge, my skin tingling. Something about sitting so close to Link in the dark, in the relative seclusion of the last row and the semi-privacy of being one of only five couples in the theater had my senses on high alert. I was acutely aware of every part of him: his evergreen-and-fresh-laundry scent, his bod
y heat, his steady breathing—short, thick inhales followed by long, low exhales.

I wanted so badly to reach my hand out and touch him. Instead, I gripped my knee, my fingers just inches from his leg. The movie was only half over, but I wasn’t sure I would survive until the end. My stomach had been clenched into a ball of tension since the moment we’d sat down. I closed my eyes and imagined laying boneless against him, his scent and heat and acceptance surrounding me. I pictured him kissing me, his lips a sensual caress against mine.

In the car, I’d told Link I wouldn’t get it on with him. Whether or not that was true, I honestly didn’t know. Being near Link did something to my insides; he set my pulse racing and brought my senses to life. I’d never been boy-crazy like Corrine—I’d never really liked anyone before. Until Link. And here in this dark theater, I was imagining myself coming onto him. In my head, I could embody some libidinous seductress, without fear that I would be turned down. Or worse—accepted.

Here we were, halfway between opening credits and the room-full-of-dead-bodies climax, and I was imagining all the ways I could take advantage of my date. If I were a braver girl.

I needed some fresh air.

With soft movements, I stood and turned to side-step my way past him. Three shuffling steps later, I caught the tip of his shoe with my entire foot. The resulting fall happened in slow motion; I teetered, tried to catch my balance, and toppled over. Right into Link’s lap.

Forget blushing; my entire body burst into embarrassed flames in the instant that I landed on him. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry,” I mumbled, refusing to look at him. I tried to move, but he’d wrapped strong arms around me. Finally, I looked at him. His eyes were black in the darkness, and his lips were parted on a gentle smile. Was he about to kiss me?

The entire world narrowed to the area surrounding us. For all I knew, the surrounding darkness was all that was left other than the two of us in that moment. My palm was flat on his chest, and his heart was drumming an excited beat. His arms loosened and one hand settled at the small of my back. The other grazed my hip and settled on my thigh.

Suddenly, my lips were too dry, my face too hot, my skin too sensitive. I darted my tongue out to lick my lips and his eyes followed the movement. I froze, waited for him to look away, to break the spell.

Boom! Cinematic thunder rumbled me out of whatever trance Link had me in. The rolling boom vibrated the air around us and sent ripples of sound reverberating through me. I pushed against his chest and put at least another six inches of space between us. Link’s arms fell away from me, and he shifted uncomfortably
beneath me. I picked myself up off his lap and fled to the restroom.

Inside the restroom,
two college-aged girls hovered in front of the mirror, applying makeup and giggling about someone named Brent. I wasted no time locking myself in a stall and stayed there until they left. When I slipped from the stall, the restroom was so quiet, every noise, every footstep echoed off the tiled walls. I went to the row of sinks and stuck my hand under the faucet. The water was cool, and I was struck by the urge to splash it over my face. Until I looked up into the mirror and remembered the makeup Corrine had helped me apply. I settled for patting my neck with wet hands, then headed for the door.

The lobby was all but
deserted when I exited the restroom. I wasn’t ready to return to the theater, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that if I was gone too long, Link would worry. The idea that someone might worry about me was a foreign one; I had a little trouble wrapping my head around it.

“He-ey, Callie!” A not-so-deep male voice caught me off guard, and I turned almost full circle before finding the source. Jason Williams. A barely-dressed blonde hung from his shoulder like she couldn’t manage to stand on her impossibly high heels. Two other guys I didn’t recognize haunted the space behind Jason and his shoulder candy. One leered at me, and the other scored me with derision. I wasn’t sure which one made me more uncomfortable.

“Hey,” I managed.

Jason extricated himself from the girl on stilts and slipped a fold of cash into her hand. “Be sweet and grab us some snacks. I’ll be there in a few.” She giggled and hobbled toward the concessions counter. With one look, Jason sent his two cronies trailing after her.

He lifted a hand to trace his fingers over one of what was the saddest collection of liberty spikes I’d ever seen. But even with the short, spikes leaning limply, he still looked a little like a punk porcupine. “So,” he looked around, “you here alone?” Suddenly, he was two steps closer to me. A heartbeat later, he was two steps too close to me.

“No.” I had to tilt my head to look up into his face. “I’m on a date.”

The corner of Jason’s lip turned up in a sneer of distaste, and his nose crinkled like he was smelling something bad. “A date?” His eyebrows drew together in an angry frown. I took a large step back, then one more for good measure.

He must have realized I was scared of him, because he relaxed in an instant, effecting that casual, devil-may-care attitude I was used to seeing from him. He reached out as though to pat me on the shoulder, but I shrugged away from him in a move I’d all but perfected through years of dealing with my father’s hit-or-miss volatility. Jason let his hand drop back to his side and made a slow perusal of my person with his eyes. The air around me was suddenly icy, and I crossed my arms over my chest. The baby-soft hair there was standing on end.

“Next time, you should let me take you out. I know how to have fun; you won’t have to wander the lobby by yourself.”

He thought I was out there because I was bored? “I’m not wandering the lobby. I was using the bathroom.” He smiled a look that clearly said he didn’t believe me, but he didn’t say anything. At that moment, I was glad he had nothing else to say. Something about this moment, here with him, was giving me the creeps. All I wanted right then was to be back in that theater next to Link. I backed away from Jason in smooth, slow steps, the kind of retreat I would have made from Dad. “I gotta get back
…” I pointed a thumb over my shoulder toward the theater.

“Next time, then.” He winked.

As soon as I was a safe distance from him, I turned and power-walked back to theater three. I couldn’t get back to my seat fast enough.