penance. a love story (The Böhme Series) (6 page)

The douche bag got pissed at Blake and declared that we were together. He laughed a loud drunken laugh and people around him encouraged him further with their added laughter. I rolled my shoulders back and tried to ignore him as I walked away. I was not going to stoop to their level with a response.

He laughed and yelled that I was a Momma’s Boy and that was my undoing.
I did not belong to my mother. I did not belong to my mother.

I took two steps toward him and felt my rage focusing itself in my fist as it connected with his jaw. His hand went up to his mouth as if he could hold the blood with his hand and keep it inside him. He dropped to the ground at the force of my knee kicking into his back. I jumped on top of him and every ounce of pain and rage I had bottled up, I now threw into his face. My hand possessed a feral need as I hit him with the years of aggression I once withheld. I watched the blood spatter across my arms and the way it looked intrigued and scared me at the same time. I looked as a crazed animal, with my focused determination on one thing—destruction.

Blake pulled me off him and I looked around at the people standing speechless. I met each of their eyes and wondered how people living in a big city still managed to have such small minds. The last set of eyes I saw were Blake’s as he dropped his hands to his side in astonishment at what had happened. The young woman from earlier was still with him and she gave me a sad expression, but in her eyes I found understanding. She had strength to her, showing she saw what I did as valid. Blake nodded to his jeep to suggest we needed to leave. He and the young woman walked to his jeep as I turned away from them. As I did, from behind I heard the loud girl yell, “I told you he was a fag!” The crowd responded to her with silence. Maybe they were afraid I was going to attack them too.

My thoughts came back to Sid and the girl getting tattooed when he cleared his throat. I looked at them and they both stared at me.

“Did you hear me, Wynn?” Sid asked with a furrowed brow.

“Uh, no, no I didn’t
.” I stared at him with glassy eyes. Stuck in my own memories, I wore an empty expression. I nod and smile when I am supposed to and most of the time it works in conversation. But the last memory took too much space and the present conversation lost to it.

“Man, where the hell d’ya go? You were here and then you weren’t. I asked you if you were coming in this weekend for your tattoo
,” he said, resting his forearm on his leg and giving me a confused look. I watched as he gathered more ink on his needle before finishing the girl’s tattoo.

“Uh, yeah I’ll be in on Sunday. I’m going to head out now though. I have a few things I should finish
,” I said.

I needed to leave before I combusted. I shouldn’t judge her and believe her to be as the girls from my past because she looked and acted as they did. But as much as I sit on the sidelines and watch people, I am often correct in my assumptions. I turned to the door and left without a word.

When I stepped outside, I saw a familiar face and my thoughts and blood began to race—the stubborn girl who didn’t want me to open the door for her earlier. She was walking away with ear buds in again and I watched as she entered Petra’s bookstore and it made me smile. Was she different?

She acted and carried herself as if she were the break in a world full of repetition. Earlier she made a point not to welcome niceties most girls longed for and I liked it. She hadn’t put on a façade or played bashful as many girls do. She was not waiting for a knight in shining armor.

I walked past the front door of the store and the girl stood inside the entryway with her head lifted. Her eyes were closed and she looked as the very definition of free. She wore an expression of pure contentment. I stood there for several moments, anticipating the lowering of her chin and her eyes as she saw the store for the first time. The store was enough to fill any book lover with excitement.

I walked farther and continued to watch her as I stopped near the brick wall outlying the window. Leaning against it, I saw movement from an aisle of books farther inside the store. It was Petra. She gave me a knowing look with one of her sly smiles, tapped the side of her nose, and pointed at me. She was always weird that way. She was a perpetual child and it gave her a uniqueness one doesn’t often find in the world. I shook my head and gave my eyes back to the young woman. She lowered her head as Petra spoke and her attention drifted from the experience she had.

I lifted myself from the wall and turned to leave. I was a twenty-three year old man and this was the first time I wanted to know what was going on inside another human being’s head. I was happy living this way because I didn’t have to interact with people. When you get deep into someone’s psyche you pull part of them into you and I didn’t want that. I didn’t want that pressure on me. I didn’t want them to know me. To be honest, it scared me. I didn’t want the vulnerability that came with it. But looking back toward the store, I wanted to know this girl.

I dated a couple times a few years back. Sid got Blake involved in his conspiracy to set me up with a girl. They arranged dates for me with a couple
hot
girls as Blake labeled them.

The first date spoke of herself and her ex-boyfriend. He wronged her and her purpose for telling me the story was to plant in my mind that I should never do that to her. I watched her as she spoke and I made myself smile at the proper times and nod my head to encourage her to continue as if I were listening to her.

Each date started with comments on my bike and tattoos. I responded with nods and simple replies with questions encouraging the girl I was out with to do most of the talking. I tried to listen to the mindless stories of past relationships and hairstyles. But my mother’s words were louder than theirs.
People only want what they can get from you, Wynn. They don’t care about anything except for what you can do for them. That goes for me too. I learned a long time ago not to expect anyone to care, so I started to take as well. We do what we have to in order to survive each day.
My mother’s comments always echoed through my mind. I tried my best to drown out her voice and listen to the nonstop chatter of my dates, but she always won.

A few of the dates told me of their high school years as if being a cheerleader
long ago was impressive. I said my good-byes to them at the restaurant or theater where we had our date and they waited with expectant eyes. I gave them a quick kiss on the cheek and turned to leave.

The last date I went on was different. She was the first I went further than a simple good-bye. She had asked me to come back to her place to play video games. That was the reason I followed her home. I had thought that since she owned a gaming console she might be interesting. Come to find out, she never played. She thought owning it made her favorable with men.
Weird
.

I followed her into her house and we started playing a first person shooter and it was fun for a while. She kept leaning closer to me until she touched my hands to take the controller from me. They felt dry and reminded me of Blake’s iguana.

She set the controller to the other side of her and placed her palms on my face. She straddled my lap and started to kiss me. It was my first real kiss and it filled my mouth with the taste of tortellini and cigarettes. I blocked those from my mind as I started to let my body go at her touch. It wasn’t awful and it was nice at first, until she put her hand in my pants and hell broke loose. I couldn’t handle that. I closed my eyes and saw
her
silhouette in my doorway. I was a boy, wanting his mother and not the tormentor from his nightmares. As the memories flashed through my mind, on reflex, I threw her off me and ran to the bathroom.

I left her apartment that night with a quick apology telling her that I was ill with something. That was that—I never saw her again. She tried calling and texting, but I didn’t respond. From then on, I declined dates. I told Blake and Sid if I found a girl that held my interest, I would date her. It worked and they backed off except for the occasional introductions as Sid tried.

I was getting on my bike when Blake called. Before I said hello, he started, “Hey, you want to go to Henley’s tonight?” I squeezed my eyes shut at the anxiousness that question brought. I pinched the bridge of my nose, knowing I had to decide if I wanted to hang out at a bar. I thought of saying no, but I heard Stinson in my head, “
You have to take those first steps. You always speak of control, well take fucking control
.” Yeah, he had an unorthodox way with me and I appreciated it.

“I suppose I can
,” I said with a sigh into the phone.

“Great. I’m heading over there at nine
,” he said with an excited but shocked tone.

“Okay, sounds good
.” I ended the call.

Blake was a riddle. He wanted to fit in with everyone in high school, but called them cloned assholes lacking individual thought. But he still went to their parties. He needed others, where I did not.

I think he uses it as a learning experience, trying to figure out who he doesn’t want in his life. He weeds out the population to find those people worthy of calling friend. Me, I didn’t want to mess with it because I hadn’t yet found a means to change my opinion of them.

Thankful for the few hours of preparation time I had, I headed home. It wasn’t that I had to change clothes or something, but I needed to strengthen my mental walls. I preferred to stay home and read or play video games. That was my typical Friday night. But as I thought of just cancelling, I heard the nagging voice of my doctor telling me that it has been years now and I needed this. He said I closed myself off to the world and the world needed to meet me. I laughed at that. The world was a big place and meeting me sure as hell wasn’t going to change it for them.

I spent a few hours with Petra, who turned out to be one of the coolest people I ever met. She treated me to dinner and her kindness to a stranger showed me hope for the world. She met me and gave me the job without any references or work history. She said she saw in my eyes something different and the job couldn’t go to anyone else. It was the first time in my life I felt like I was where I was supposed to be.

I walked the two blocks back to my apartment and ran in the door to tell Maggie my good news. I heard the music coming from her room again, but this time Maggie came right out when she heard the front door close.

“Why are you so smiley?” she asked me, with a scowl. “You never sent me a text,” she said as she stepped toward me with her finger pointed at my nose. I was five nine and she stood to my armpit. Though we were cousins, our appearances were nothing alike. She had short black hair, and mine was dark blonde and fell to my hips. She had dark brown eyes and I had light blue. She had an overbearing personality that made sense to her and her alone. I was easy going.

I set my bag on the kitchen table and took a seat, “Sorry, my
new job
occupied my time and I forgot,” I said with a huge smile. “And oh my, it's amazing.”

“Oh my, t
hat is awesome, Hannah,” she said, changing her demeanor and leaning over me in the chair to give me a hug. “Toby, Hannah got a job, come in here,” she yelled before giving her attention back to me. “Tell me about it.”

“It’s a booksto
re that is a couple blocks away.” I dropped her embrace and my eyes grew wide with excitement. “You will not believe this place. I can’t wait for you to see it.” I noticed the dress she was wearing, “What are you guys up to this evening?” I asked with a tilt of my head.

She was wearing a rockabilly pinup dress and she wore her short black hair in a way that was a perfect replica from the 1940s. Her dress and makeup accentuated the right places, which was another quality that made us different. She was voluptuous, I was not. I could never fill out a dress as she did. With her choice of clothes, they were going out, because Maggie didn’t dress that way on usual days.

She gave Toby the stink-eye as he came around the corner, “Well we were going to go to a bar that is supposed to be cool. Do you want to come with us? A guy is coming that I want you to meet. You will love him. I have wanted you to meet him.” She smiled at me as her hands clenched her hips waiting for my response.

I lifted an eyebrow at her, because she knew I did not want to meet anyone. I shook my head at her as I thought of it. Possibilities
 that I cannot give ran through my mind. I didn’t even know this guy and guilt filled me for having to ignore him.

She laughed, “Do
n’t look at me that way, Hannah,” she said as she squeezed my shoulders and leaned over, making me meet her eyes. “He’s gay. He’s so much fun and you will have a blast with him,” she said in a manner as if she willed me to prove her wrong.

Thank the gods he’s gay.
I relaxed into my chair. “Well, okay then.”

Toby laughed from the doorway he was leaning in, but didn’t say a word. He was wearing his typical skinny jeans and small tee shirt. His shirt today had a large wolf’s head in the middle of it. He was a dork, but it suited him. “What's with your grin?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

“It just is,” he said with glassy eyes and a bigger, goofier smile. That’s where the grin came from—he was high. Maggie became pissed the first time he had smoked pot around her. She said it was horrible and was a gateway drug. I thought it hypocritical to go out drinking, but criticize someone for smoking it. She complained to me one time and even used the
gateway
term. I laughed and asked what part alcohol played. The realization clicked as she thought through what I said. I never touched the stuff myself, but I also never saw a high person start a fight.