That Horrible Mouth of Yours

THIRTEEN.

Devil's Lake. October 11, 1975. 6:23 AM.

I woke curled into Dale's chest, feet hanging off the couch, head pounding. The sun was just coming up, and all I could think about was Clement. I braced my hands against Dale and pushed myself into an upright position, waking him in the process.

"Hey," his voice was husky from sleep, and he groaned when the sun hit his face.

"I should go," I mumbled. I know that this was all my idea, but I was still ashamed that I was treating Clement this way. "Barry's probably home, wondering where I am."

"Right," he cleared his throat and sat up. "I'll walk you out."

I was still fully dressed, down to the shoes I had walked over in, so it was only a minute until I was standing at the door.

"Thank you for letting me stay," I leaned over and kissed Dale's cheek. "I'll see you later."

The walk back home was an emotional wreck. I had to stop myself from crying multiple times, stopping on the street or ducking into alleyways to catch a breath. The apartment was still locked up tight, the way I had left it. Clement was nowhere in sight. I stripped out of my wrinkled clothes and sat in front of the tub while it filled with cold water. Lou-Ann's had an old water heater on the brink of breaking down, but it wasn't working so well in the forty degree weather. Just last week someone's pipe had frozen and cracked in the middle of the night, turning 10th Street into an icy mess.

At nearly eight in the morning, Clement came sulking through the door. I was stuffing towels into the cracks in the windows when I heard the door creak open. I turned around and looked at him. He was pitiful. Shivering, reeking of beer, and looking like he spent the night under a bridge.

"I'm sorry," he dropped his keys onto the dresser and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I shouldn't have just walked out on you."

"But you did," I said through gritted teeth. He couldn't just come back and act like everything was forgiven. As much as I loved him, he had some serious character flaws, primarily not being able to empathize with me.

"Luli," he sighed, "you ripped me away from the only life I'd ever known. Yeah, it was fun at first, because all we did was fuck and steal from people. But now? My parents have no clue where I am, I haven't spoken to them in months, and I think it actually hit me that you're running from a psychopath. I love you to death, but I can't live like this. None of these people know our real names! How long is it gonna go on? A year? Two years? We're lying to everyone, and to ourselves."

"You don't think I feel the same way? Clement, I'm sixteen years old. Sixteen! I shouldn't have to deal with this shit, at all. Okay, maybe you had to sell drugs, and god forbid you have to go by a different name so that we don't murdered. You know what I had to do? Well, let's start at the beginning," I was starting to boil over, my vision turning red, "I met this amazing boy, who took me out for milkshakes in his cool car, and made me laugh. Fast forward a few hours and I've got a drunk cowboy in my motel room, threatening my life if I don't get on my knees right then and there. So yeah, I leave him, and cry to that cute boy, and let him take me home. Well, wouldn't you know it, that charming cowboy is a crazed murderer, and he's looking for me!"

"Luli..."

"No. Shut up. Shut up!" I charge towards him, hurling myself into him so that he stumbles back. "So, me and this cute boy, we skip town. It's fun at first, because we're best friends and we can do whatever we want. Then, oh no, we're running out of money, so this boy maybe has to sell some drugs. And then, you know, that gets my gears going, and suddenly I'm a god damn prostitute! A sixteen year old prostitute, getting tossed around like a rag doll because some gross forty year old man can't get it up!"