lolita | bellerín

epiphany

"i don't know how to get over
someone as dangerous,
tainted and flawed
as you."
-------

"Salome." Jason approached the Colombian as she gathered her books, a small smile on his face.

She glanced up at him, then offered a polite grin; nothing to think too highly of, in terms of self esteem. "Jason."

"I had a great time the other night." he noted, with a smirk. "I'd love to keep seeing you."

Salome felt her smile falter as she looked back at her textbook, then dropped it into her backpack. She regretted going to his house and getting drunk with him; but at the time, the dance and Jason combined with alcohol while Hector was away at a game was all Salome really had to cope with the stress she felt from her mother being sick.

"Oh." Was all she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Yes, I had a good time, too."

Jason was slightly taken aback. "So...can I take you out sometime this week, maybe?"

Salome knew that Jason was probably more attached to their sex than he was her, but it wasn't like she actually cared about him. She sighed. "I'll let you know when I'm free."

Jason smiled. "Great."

Salome left the school and walked to the hospital, where her mother had been staying since Friday. Salome didn't really know what she'd do once the hospital requested documentation, but honestly, the idea of home in Barranquilla didn't sound bad at all to her. She missed her old friends and her old life, the old games she played with the hearts of the neighborhood boys.

"Hola." Salome entered her mothers room and dropped her backpack on the floor before making her way to the stool next to her bed. Salome's mother lay with her eyes closed, but she was awake.

"Mija, how was your day?"

Salome sighed and climbed next to her mother in the bed, deciding she was too tired to speak and wanted to be as close as possible the woman that'd brought her into this world. "It was alright. There's this boy, not Hector, and I know I've made a mistake."

"What did you do?"

"I slept with him." It flowed out of Salome's lips easily; almost so easily that she wondered if it was wrong.

"Why would you do that?" Sofia responded, with an eyebrow raise. She would've disapproved of her daughter's actions, but what could she say? The apple never fell far from the tree. If she wished Salome had a little more guidance in her life, then it was no one's fault but her own.

Salome looked at the ceiling. "I just do stupid things sometimes, mama."

"I love you, Salome, and I want you to be free...but I don't want you to end up like me." She stated, with a slightly sad sigh.

"Yeah, well, I won't." Salome responded, with a shrug. "I'm in a much stabler position than you were."

"Does Hector love you?"

"He says he does." Salome frowned up at her mother. "Why, you think he doesn't?"

"It's just..." Sofia sighed. "You know, I've had experience with men like him. Your father, for example...they do a good job of convincing, but as soon as things take a wrong turn, they're out the door." She muttered, causing her daughter to frown even more.

"Hector would never leave me like that. If we had a child, the last thing he'd want is for it to grow up the way I did."

"Maybe you're right, Salome, but how do you know?"

"Because he could have any woman in the world, and he chose me." She responded, with certainty. "I'm not a woman. When he chose me, I was a kid."

"Please...don't remind me of that." If there was anything that made Sofia uncomfortable, it was the fact that her daughter, at fifteen, was sleeping with an adult.

Salome rolled her eyes and then looked at the ceiling. "He does everything to please me." She spoke, smiling a little. "You know, twenty is a ripe age. He could be spending his Friday nights clubbing or partying, or he could be sleeping with as many gorgeous supermodels as possible. But instead he deals with me...he helps me with my homework, encourages me to stay in school, teaches me how to drive. He loves me, and I'm certain."

When Salome turned to face her mother she was back to laying with her eyes closed, though she at least looked content in her sleep. This was how Salome knew that her mother had heard her words. Sighing, she pressed a kiss to her mother's forehead, hating the fact that they were only bonding like this in her mother's final days, months, or possibly years; however long she'd fight this disease.

Salome left the hospital and then took the bus to Hector's place, not really wanting to go to her lonely and hideous flat. Hector didn't arrive until an hour after his girlfriend, but when he did, he bombarded her with questions.

"How was your day?"

"How was the dance?"

"You haven't even showed me photos."

Salome responded to each with an eyebrow raise, and didn't particularly bother with answering them, either. "He wants to see me again."

"Who?"

"The guy that took me to the dance." Salome rolled her eyes just a little, staring at Hector. "I don't know what to tell him."

Hector stared at Salome, his thoughts elsewhere. He wanted Salome to do things the normal way for her age, he really did; but he didn't want to—and couldn't, truthfully—let her go. "Say no?"

"I said I would consider it." She sighed, regretfully. "I think I got his hopes up."

"Did you two..." Hector frowned. "Díos, did you cheat on me? Did you sleep with him? Is that why he's so obsessed with you?"

"No. But I'm sure he wants to." She lied, easily, a feeling of guilt mixed with shame in her stomach. "What is it, impossible for him to like me without sex in the mix?"

"Oh, I didn't mean it like that." Hector blinked, pulling Salome into him. The two lay on the couch, Salome's forehead facing his. "It's just that I was once—how old is he?"

"Eighteen."

"Exactly. I was once his age, you know? And we both know how much you appealed to me at eighteen—and you were only fifteen—even though you didn't tell me, and I thought you were eighteen. Now you're seventeen, with the physical maturity of a twenty year old." He spoke, thoughtfully.

"So?"

"So you're kind of like a shiny piece of meat, and he's a starving dog." Hector made a poor comparison, causing Salome to frown. "At that age, it's kind of just—"

"Puta." Salome nudged him. "So when you were eighteen, all you wanted to do was fuck me?"

"What do you mean? You're the one that came onto me, Salome. I'm certain that you at least knew I was much older than you." Hector rose his eyebrows.

Salome sat up. "So is it still like that, then?"

"Like what?"

"Is sleeping with me all you want to do?" She frowned, running her nails along her olive skin in a distraught manner.

Hector huffed. "No, Salome. Three years is a long time to stick in a risky relationship for the sake of sex. There are a lot of girls I could have just sex with, and you aren't one of them." 

Salome stared into Hector's eyes. She didn't believe him. Maybe he was messed up, kind of like the main character—what was his name, Humbert?—in Lolita. He, too, was handsome; desired by Lo's mother herself along with other women. Yet he still had the infatuation with Lolita, didn't he?

"I think I'll head home now." She murmured, practically feeling embarrassed with her new epiphany at hand.

"I'll dri—"

"No." Salome grabbed her bag, slung it around her shoulders, and made her way to the door of Hector'd fancy apartment. "I'll walk."