Excerpt Chapter 10:

**She’s remembering her second time and getting lost in her own thoughts as she sits in her car while trying to track down a man named Robert Negro – A convicted rapist and murderer whos “done his time”  She find herself down the street from his house late in the evening**

He told me he loved me, and when we stopped I was finally able to tell him that I loved him too. That’s where the boy meets girl fantasy ends. A coldness filled the car as he moved away from me to zip up his jeans and hop in the front seat.

I started to get dressed in the silence.

As I was putting my jeans back on and slipping my feet back into my shoes, he started the car. The next twenty minutes he said nothing to me until we pulled in my driveway. Then with a kiss on my cheek, and a pat on my leg he said,

“That was fun and you’re a sweet girl, but on Monday when we’re at school, we don’t know each other. “

 

 

Monday came, and I was just same old me. He didn’t acknowledge me, he didn’t even look at me when I said hello. I didn’t have a boyfriend anymore; I just had another dirty secret. I never wanted to be that girl but now I was. My friends tried to console me and assure me that all men are dogs.

That day I ate lunch in a bathroom stall.

I still don’t know if I can do it. Roberto Negro shouldn’t be able to come home to a warm bed. He shouldn’t be able to stand in his kitchen and make a meal, or a cup of coffee. He shouldn’t be allowed to cut the grass in his yard or go grocery shopping.

Yet here he was.

He was living

Existing

Breathing

Shitting

Having a beer

Ordering take out

Walking into his home

Enjoying a warm bed

And she

Lifeless

The world is supposed to accept him because he served his time and paid his debt to society. Apparently “justice” in this country means ten years is a fair exchange for the life of a young girl. Sipping on my coffee I decided right then and there, that he wasn’t going to make it through the end of the week alive. I got that feeling again. The heat from my head to my toes.

It was orgasmic.

I looked up over the dash and saw that the couple that were just back from getting pizza, were still outside.

 

The woman was standing at the door fumbling with her keys, and her husband who now had his head down texting as he walked, came to her aid as slowly as possible. As the lights flicked on in the house I could hear an argument.

Who are you texting?

None of your business

A couple of drawers slam closed

You’re practically a zombie!

A door slams twice

All you do is fucking nag!

Nag, nag, nag

A glass breaks

Then after an hour or so

Lights out

It’s quiet by the time I see another car pass by and pull into Roberto’s driveway.

Everything from my head to my toes running cold. My arms rippled with goosebumps as I looked at my hands again. “You remember what Roberto did, you can do this” I told myself.

I hit the steering wheel

That smug look on his face

Getting groceries from the back

His cheap fucking case of Coors Light in one hand

Filthy jeans

Unshaven

Dirty hands

I’m sure he worked on cars of or something

 

Crud under his nails

A short while later he left the house, got in his piece of shit car and left. I followed with no idea where we were headed, and I was careful as I drove behind him. My brain couldn’t reconcile that he lived in such an idyllic little neighborhood. The streets had mature trees, and every lawn was well kept. It made me even more infuriated as I passed houses with twinkly lights on their porches and couples enjoying what I assumed were cold drinks. Maybe lemonade or a nice cabernet.

The girl her took, her last memories were his face.

Not cool nights on porches

No cold beers

No stolen kisses

No butterflies in her stomach

No coming home late

His scent all around her with the last rise and fall of her chest

The smell of lilacs wafted though the window as we stopped at an intersection near what looked like Main St. I thought to myself, that someone must have a bush in their garden nearby.

He told me he loved me, and when we stopped I was finally able to tell him that I loved him too. That’s where the boy meets girl fantasy ends. A coldness filled the car as he moved away from me to zip up his jeans and hop in the front seat.

I started to get dressed in the silence.

As I was putting my jeans back on and slipping my feet back into my shoes, he started the car. The next twenty minutes he said nothing to me until we pulled in my driveway. Then with a kiss on my cheek, and a pat on my leg he said,

“That was fun and you’re a sweet girl, but on Monday when we’re at school, we don’t know each other. “

Monday came, and I was just same old me. He didn’t acknowledge me, he didn’t even look at me when I said hello. I didn’t have a boyfriend anymore; I just had another dirty secret. I never wanted to be that girl but now I was. My friends tried to console me and assure me that all men are dogs.

That day I ate lunch in a bathroom stall.

I still don’t know if I can do it. Roberto Negro shouldn’t be able to come home to a warm bed. He shouldn’t be able to stand in his kitchen and make a meal, or a cup of coffee. He shouldn’t be allowed to cut the grass in his yard or go grocery shopping.

Yet here he was.

He was living

Existing

Breathing

Shitting

Having a beer

Ordering take out

Walking into his home

Enjoying a warm bed

And she

Lifeless

The world is supposed to accept him because he served his time and paid his debt to society. Apparently “justice” in this country means ten years is a fair exchange for the life of a young girl. Sipping on my coffee I decided right then and there, that he wasn’t going to make it through the end of the week alive. I got that feeling again. The heat from my head to my toes.

It was orgasmic.

I looked up over the dash and saw that the couple that were just back from getting pizza, were still outside.

The woman was standing at the door fumbling with her keys, and her husband who now had his head down texting as he walked, came to her aid as slowly as possible. As the lights flicked on in the house I could hear an argument.

Who are you texting?

None of your business

A couple of drawers slam closed

You’re practically a zombie!

A door slams twice

All you do is fucking nag!

Nag, nag, nag

A glass breaks

Then after an hour or so

Lights out

It’s quiet by the time I see another car pass by and pull into Roberto’s driveway.

Everything from my head to my toes running cold. My arms rippled with goosebumps as I looked at my hands again. “You remember what Roberto did, you can do this” I told myself.

I hit the steering wheel

That smug look on his face

Getting groceries from the back

His cheap fucking case of Coors Light in one hand

Filthy jeans

Unshaven

Dirty hands

I’m sure he worked on cars of or something

Crud under his nails

A short while later he left the house, got in his piece of shit car and left. I followed with no idea where we were headed, but as careful as I drove behind him. I couldn’t reconcile that he lived in such an idyllic little neighborhood. The streets had mature trees, and every lawn was well kept. It made me even more infuriated as I passed houses with twinkly lights on their porches and couples enjoying what I assumed were cold drinks. Maybe lemonade or a nice cabernet.

The girl he took, her last memories were his face.

Not cool nights on porches

No cold beers

No stolen kisses

No butterflies in her stomach

No coming home late

His scent all around her with the last rise and fall of her chest

The smell of lilacs wafted though the window as we stopped at an intersection near what looked like Main St. I thought to myself, that someone must have a bush in their garden nearby.

There was one in my garden as a child.