| V A L E R I E |
The wet spots on my thighs stare up at me angrily. I gripped the steering wheel, resting my forehead against the cool leather. Everything was burning inside. My whole face was flooded with hot blood, my fingertips tingled with pins and needles. Every light on the house was off. Dad must be in bed. Kresha, our Ukrainian housekeeper who looked as if she belonged on the cover spread of Vogue instead of routinely scouring the kitchen- had retired for the nightI assumed. Good. She can't chastise me about how late it is. How there are strange and dangerous men lurking at all hours of evening in her choppy English.
"Ukrainian women sleep good in bed by 6:00 pm."
She'd cluck while wiping down our blanco marble countertops with vegan cleaning products my dad insisted she use.
"Nothing open but legs past 12 AM."
I became overwhelmed with hope that Kresha was awake. I wanted to crawl in her bed, bury my face against her pale arms and sob. First I would have to tell her what happened, the shame would fully set in. She'd probably judge me. With her fox-like silver blue eyes. I'll need to go inside at some point.
I should call Ace. I should apologize to him. Not just for this but for everything. Skipping most of his away games, hanging out with Adrian by myself, cancellling our weekend plans to study and stretch my limbs until they seared with a jarring ache. Being a horrible girlfriend. The text bubbles were green.
"Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice messaging system."
My stomach shrank into my abdomen. How dare you? I chastised myself. You've got some fucking nerve to even think about speaking to him after that shit. Are you crazy? Apparently. I called once more, unable to stop myself.
"Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice messaging system."
Popping my phone out of a clear case jammed with Polaroids of Ace and money. Rubbed the dirt off the edges of screen with a napkin from the cup holder. As if that would make him answer. The longer I sat there and waited to go inside, the stronger the urge to back out onto the road and find him became. He needs more time.
These wounds are fresh. Even if u did find him, what would I say? That I was sorry? I wasn't. I should be, I should feel guilty and ashamed. My shoulders should ache from the weight of the guilt. Deep inside it should hurt. Instead, I was numb. Possibly in shock.
Out of all the times I had ever been a different person, I hardly recognized myself in the reflection of the rear view murrios with smudges of mascara under my eyes. Making me out to look like a sad and pitiful raccoon. My hair stuck out around the crown of my head wildly, I moved my fingers through my scalp attempting to slick it down and shivered as it throbbed in memory of how Adrian was tugging on it moments before. My cheeks, flush and warm to the touch. I was missing an earring. I'm not sure when I'd even lost it. I licked my lips to wet the dryness and swallowed.
My finger gravitated to Ace's contact. I called it once, twice, three times. Hung up mid ring and called back. Knowing he wouldn't answer I repeated this for several more minutes.
Where had those feelings come from? Had they been there this whole time.
My mind raced back to a time where Adrian and his brother bully tease me mercilessly. Make me the butt of all their jokes and help me to suffer through endless pranks and hurtful insults they affectionately claimed as tough love. I called it cruelty. And yet I forced my way to the center of their universe. Where I was the only planet they seemed to orbit.
