The Red Thread (28 page)

“He calls it Belinda,” Tommy says.

“Fascinating,” I respond.

I just want to get out of here. I feel like I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole and took a wrong turn, except this place certainly isn’t full of any wonder. Tommy tells me each person’s name, but I choose not to listen. I don’t plan to make any of their acquaintances.

“Tommy, I think you should go now.”

“But Jess, you
just
got here. Sit down, and smoke a little. It’ll be fun.”

“I’d rather not. I’m going to take you home with me, okay?” I try to use my most soothing voice possible, but sadly I didn’t inherit that gene from my mom.

I grab his hand, but he pulls it away. “No.” His shout echoes through the house, and I almost fall back in surprise. Adam keeps a hand around my waist, but I push it off. What if one of these guys shoots us? I can see Adam’s hurt eyes, but I try to keep my focus on Tommy.

“L-l-let’s go outside and, um t-t-t-talk about thi-this?” Adam reasons with my friend.

“Who the fuck are you? I don’t even fucking know you.”

“Tommy, stop it.”

“Fuck this. Just get the fuck out of here, Jess. You’re just some crazy fucker. I don’t need you.”

He walks away and sits on the couch with these people who pretend to be his friends, and one of them shouts for us to leave. Adam takes my hand, and I don’t feel anything as he pulls me out of the house and into his car. Tommy texted me. I thought he was ready to leave and join the world again, but my mind drifts back to what he said.

Crazy fucker.

Is that really all I am to him? Am I always so wrapped up with my own problems and my illness that I’ve missed out on everything that has happened with him? Maybe those people aren’t the ones pretending to be his friend. Maybe it’s me?

“Jess, are, are you o-okay?”

I shrug in response because there is nothing to say. I don’t know how I feel at the moment.

“D-do you w-want me t-t-t-to t-take you home?”

I nod.

He frowns, and a crinkle appears between his eyebrows.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“It-it’s okay.”

“I shouldn’t have let you come tonight. That was a disaster.”

“I j-just wanted t-t-to make s-s-s-s-sure you were s-s-s-s-safe.”

“Thank you.”

“W-why d-did you n-not let me t-t-touch you?”

“I was afraid one of them would pull out a gun and shoot us.” It sounds so much dumber when I say it out loud.

He just smiles. “Oh, okay.”

“Shut up. It’s a serious problem. Who knows how they would react to a gay couple? They’re so drugged up they wouldn’t even realize what they were doing until they were burying our bodies somewhere where no one would ever find us.”

“You’re a-a-a-adorable.”

I don’t say anything because I feel like an awful friend. I left Tommy back there. I should have tried harder to get him out of that place.

“So you don’t drink?” I say, trying to think about something else.

“N-nope.”

“Why is that?”

“I j-j-just don’t l-like how it ch-changes your entire p-p-perception. It, it makes s-s-s-s-some people angry and m-mean.”

“I see.”

The rest of the car ride is spent in silence. He drops me off at my house and walks me to the door. He bends down to kiss me, but I’m not content like I was before. I’m here spending the night with my boyfriend, and my best friend is off somewhere getting high and drunk.

“It’ll b-be okay.”

I nod, but how does he know? How can anyone know it’ll be okay? It’s funny how an entire night can change so quickly. Everything was so perfect, and then one text changed everything. I went from being happy to whatever this is. Guilty. Hurt. Numb. Sad. Angry. All of these feelings rush through my veins like a drug, and there is no way for me to stop them.

“Jess, are, are you s-s-s-s-sure y-you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I am. I’ll text you in the morning, okay?”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He kisses me once more on the lips, and I wrap my arms around his neck to take in the kiss. At least that still makes me feel good.

“Good night,” I say as he pulls away.

“S-s-s-s-sweet dreams.”

I watch him drive away, and as I find myself lying in bed, I wish I hadn’t let him leave. I just want him here right now so I could go back to before with my head on his chest when everything was wonderful and I was content. I would give anything for a time machine to turn back time and to be in Adam’s arms once again. His arms make me feel warm and safe.

THE NEXT
morning I end up telling my sister everything about Tommy. I don’t know how it happens. One moment she asks how the rest of my night went, probably expecting some juicy details, and the next thing I know I’m telling her about Tommy and the druggie’s house. Clara never interrupts me; she just lets me tell my story. As it comes to an end, she is silent.

“Is he still there now?”

I nod.

“I wonder why he texted you. He must want to leave but can’t bring himself to.”

“What makes you say that?” I ask. That’s a lot to assume from my story.

“Well, he texted you, so he obviously wants to leave… but he also can’t bring himself to because he doesn’t want to face society or his father.”

“I just wish I could do something.”

“Me too, but Tommy needs to let us help.”

“Isn’t there anyone we can call?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

“Why are you going to school for art? You should have gone to law school, and then we would know what to do,” I attempt to joke.

She humors me and smiles.

“It’ll all work out,” she reassures me.

“That’s what Adam said.”

“He’s a smart man.”

“Yeah,” I agree.

We’ve texted a bit throughout the day. He’s worried about me, and I can understand why. I didn’t end the date on the highest of notes, but as usual Adam is outdoing Prince Charming in the act of being charming. I don’t know how he does it. He should be angry or annoyed or just plain freaked out, but instead he worries and wants to make sure I’m okay. What kind of guy does that in reality? It’s kind of weird. Amazing, but weird.

“I liked him,” Clara remarks.

“Me too,” I smirk.

“I would certainly hope so,” she says with a giggle. “He’s very….”

“Very what?” Oh gosh, what is wrong with him?

“Dapper. He’s very dapper. He kind of reminds me of an old-school gentleman from the 1960s or something.”

“Is that good?” I ask.

“Jess, that is wonderful. I’ve always dreamed of meeting a guy like that, once I get my master’s degree of course, and here you are with Mr. Wonderful.”

“Yeah, he is pretty wonderful.”

Clara takes a glance at her watch. “Oh, I should head out.”

“Where are you going?” I ask. It’s not even noon yet; where does she have to be?

“I’m just seeing one of my friends. We’ll talk about this later tonight, okay?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Anytime.”

She kisses my forehead, and I watch her leave my bedroom. I need to dress and get ready for work anyway. I’ve been avoiding Peter like the plague, and I think he’s been doing the same. When he walks in, he doesn’t look at me. I’m surprised he even remembers I took him home, he was so plastered.

When I get to work, the day is going normally. I’m with Jill today, who is her usual loud self.

“Hey, sexy. How are you?”

“Hey, Jill.”

“You won’t believe this,” she basically shouts.

She starts to go on and on about something, I don’t know what. Maybe it’s about a band? I pretend to listen the best I can, but her fast talking goes right over my head and she’s lost me. She stops talking when Peter’s office door screeches open. Peter comes out of his office and looks at me. Right into my eyes. Jill looks on strangely, and I shrug, and I follow Peter into his office. It smells like alcohol, but it’s cleaner than last time I saw it.

He sits behind his desk, and I take a chair in front of it. I notice that an unopened bottle of Jack Daniel’s sits on his desk. Peter sighs, and I look around the office.

“So…,” I mutter.

“Thank you.”

“Um, okay.”

I really don’t know what to say.

“I was a mess, as usual, and just thanks.”

“Um, no problem.”

We sit there in awkward silence.

“Go back to the floor.”

I stand up and leave the room, but I catch a glimpse of him opening the bottle and taking a sip. I sigh and find my way back to Jill.

“What was that about?”

I shrug. “Nothing.”

“Weird,” she responds.

“Yeah, I guess.”

As Jill begins to talk once again, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket, and my smile grows once I read the name. Adam. I may or may not do a bit of a happy dance, I won’t lie.

I miss you. Can I see you tonight? xoxo

Yes
, I immediately respond.
What do you want to do?

I’m going to finally introduce you to the greatest show on Earth!!! :D

Doctor Who?

DUH!!!

I can’t wait!

Would you like to spend the night? :)

My smile drops from my face. He wants me to spend the night? Is he trying to tell me something? When most people want you to spend the night, it usually means they want to have, um, have sex….

Sure.

:)

Oh gosh, did I just agree to sleep with him? I don’t know if I’m ready for that. But if I sleep over, he’s probably going to want to do that. I know I’m not really up to date with how relationships work, but sex is usually involved when your boyfriend sleeps over, right? I’m sounding like a damn kid in middle school who just started puberty.

“Oh, a sleepover… sexy!”

I look up to see Jill reading over my shoulder, and I try to force down the want to push her away.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you that’s rude?”

“Yeah, all my life… but how else is a girl like me supposed to learn what is going on around me? It’s culture.”

“It’s creepy,” I quip.

I watch as she pulls herself onto the desk next to the cash register. A customer looks over, confused. No one ever really gets used to Jill.

“Shut it. So your boy wants you to sleep over? How cute. Are you going to, you know?”

I really don’t want to have this conversation.

“No, I don’t know,” I say playing dumb. Please just let this conversation die. Is that too much to ask for?

“Oh come on, you know,” she says with a wink.

She takes one hand, making a circle, and then uses an index finger of her other hand and inserts it.

“Jill, stop that,” I utter.

Her smile grows wider, and she starts mimicking an orgasm, and I’m trying to hold the bile back in my throat. I look around as customers stop in their places and look over at the two of us, and Jill’s way-too-realistic orgasm sounds. I try to shrink myself as much as I can, hoping to find a way to disappear. I mean, that must be possible somehow.

“Stop it,” I repeat. “Why must this happen to me?”

I think I died and just woke up in hell. I’m way too awkward for this. When it comes to sex, I’m like a prepubescent child. Actually that is a bad analogy, and kind of wrong.

“Fine,” she says, but then the smile grows wide on her face. “Wait… are you a virgin?” she asks with way too much curiosity.

“No, I’m not,” I lie.

“It’s okay if you are. Being a virgin is adorable. It’s so rare to find a virgin nowadays, especially among men. For fuck’s sakes, even middle-school kids are doing it now. It’s revolting. Being a virgin is like a unicorn.”

I press my lips together, refusing to meet her eyes.

“You totally are. Oh my God, that is so cute. You’re my little unicorn.”

“Yes,” I whisper, a part of me hoping she doesn’t hear what I say.

“Oh my gosh. You are too cute,” she shouts, jumping off the desk and pulling me into a bone-crunching hug. Yeah, it hurts as much as it sounds.

“It’s not that big of a deal, Jill.”

Though it is. It’s a huge deal. I’m a virgin, and I’m sleeping over at a guy’s house. I’m a virgin and I’m sleeping over at my boyfriend’s house. I’m getting flashbacks of our first date when I outright told him I wouldn’t have sex with him. I am certainly a catch, that’s for sure. Crazy and weird. Adam might as well date a deadite from
The Evil Dead
.

“It’ll be so much fun. I want to hear
every
juicy detail.”

“There won’t be any.”

“Sure,” she says sounding unconvinced.

I want to say she stops acting like this, but the rest of the workday seems to follow in this fashion. Jill never once lets up with the sex talk to the point it starts making me never want to have sex. Why does sex have to be so complicated? Can’t Adam and I continue doing what we do? I’m happy like that.

WHEN MY
shift ends, and Laurie comes in, I’m all too happy to get out of there… but the entire walk home my mind focuses on what Jill was saying. I am not totally inexperienced. I have done things but never actual sex, and is it weird the idea of it kind of scares me? I should be turned on or something, but it just makes me want to run and hide.

When I get home, I end up googling sex, and the results I get are interesting. I see more penises than I have ever seen in my life. I end up watching gay porn, and for the first time I don’t watch it to get off, but instead I take note of their moves. I watch the thrust of their hips, and I pay attention to everything the guys do. It’s all for research of course. I don’t enjoy it at all. Not at all. I am so happy I have a lock on my door.

All my research is interrupted by a text. From Adam.

Dress warm tonight :)

That’s it? No reason why?

Why?

You’ll see!!! :D

Now I’m scared. What does he have planned?

I’ll pick you up at 8!

Okay….

:)

How dare he end the conversation on a smiley face emoticon. I spend the rest of the day following my usual predate routine: showering and brushing my teeth multiple times, so that by 7:30 p.m., I’m completely ready. I pack a small overnight bag, using my canvas messenger bag, and at eight o’clock sharp, I hear a car pull up outside. I look outside my window to see Adam’s car.