Sunset City (12 page)

I nodded. She tucked my hair behind my ear. I felt hollow, deliciously empty, like a bubble that grows when you blow into it. Her fingers skimmed my neck and clavicle, making me shiver.

She took a handful of my hair and drew me towards her. She kissed me, opened my lips with hers. The emptiness inside me blossomed and blossomed until I didn't think I was there at all. Audrey touched my arm, my waist, my knee, her delicate fingers alighting, leaving each place aglow with nerves. I quit thinking about Danielle and Sally and Brandon and my mom. She kissed me again and her desire rolled through me, like the opposite of fear. I was dissolving inside her smallness, her softness. I had no idea what might happen next, and not knowing thrilled me.

Audrey giggled. “Check them out,” she said, pointing.

On the picnic bench near us a couple of guys sat watching. I accidentally made eye contact with one. I didn't care. Their attention confirmed this was actually happening.

Audrey said, “Fuck this. Let's go.” We walked out to the parking lot, Audrey leading, tugging on my hand. In the car I sat awkwardly. The people at the bar had made me feel safe, like we were in a clearing in the woods, protected by trees. Being alone
with her, each move required deliberation. She parked on the street outside my apartment and we went upstairs and inside.

“Want something to drink?” I said, opening the fridge.

“No. Come here.”

“Okay.” I shut the refrigerator door.

“I like hanging out with you,” she said.

“Me, too,” I said. I blushed.

She stepped towards me, more tentative than before, and we kissed. Strange to touch a girl. Her soft mouth, the fineness of her skin disoriented me. My hands were clumsy, oversized on her tiny shoulders. I leaned against the doorframe. She touched my face, my breasts. She pulled my shirt over my head, her eyes wide, observing. My nipples hardened at her touch, and my thighs tensed. She gasped as my body jerked. I unzipped her dress and lowered the loose top off her shoulders, revealing her tits, the long brown nipples I had seen on the video.

She yanked my skirt up around my hips, roughly. She pushed my thong to the side, slid her finger inside me. I cried out. The emptiness converged around her hand. I wanted more, I wanted more. She stopped and I thought I might sob.

I reached for her. She grabbed my wrists, kissed me on the mouth and down my neck. She kissed my breasts and licked them, her tongue darting out and in, sliding over my skin, warming it and leaving it wet and cool. Her grip on my wrists stayed firm. It made me less nervous, not having to do anything with my hands.

“Please,” I said, barely able to speak.

“Please what,” she said, but I didn't know what to say.

I loved her mouth on my body. I loved her topless, seeing her nipples get hard.

“Take off your clothes,” she said.

I wiggled out of them, embarrassed at how wet I was.
Strands of it fell down my thighs. I ran my fingers over her tits, the nipples against my palms. I took one in my mouth. She stood still and her breath came quicker. I liked hearing it. She stepped out of her panties. She was hairless there, slick and pink and swollen. I glanced at her face, met her eyes, looked away. She pressed my head to her chest and pushed me down.

I knelt, her hands on my head, and kissed her. She tasted like lemons, like wine about to turn. She was whispering nonsense syllables, high-pitched sighs that came from her throat. She pushed into me now, grinding. Her voice grew louder, wavered in conjunction with her body. She wouldn't hold still. Suddenly, I had to make her hold still. It was a feeling foreign to me, akin to fury. I fucked her with my hand, faster. I wanted to bite her, but I didn't. She gave a staccato cry, and her whole body stiffened, her muscles pulsed. She stopped moving and rested against the wall. I was amazed I could bring such a thing about.

My knees hurt from kneeling. I wiped my face on my arm and stood. Audrey slumped, whimpering, her eyes glazed. I kissed her mouth and she jumped at my touch before melting into me. She moved her hand from my waist over my belly, down. She studied me with a vacant expression, open-eyed. I moved against her palm, involuntary. She stared hard at my face as though from a distance.

She shoved her fingers in roughly. It hurt, maybe, though my body was confused and didn't care. She kissed me and I didn't have to think. My mind switched off and I let it. Audrey was controlling my heartbeat, my breath, making me shake. My body gave up trying to understand what it felt. I yelled as I came, and clung to her, not believing my own sounds.

“Come on,” she said. “Lie down.”

I took a few trembling steps to the bed and collapsed. My
confusion dissolved in her tender kisses and she touched me, softly, until I bucked against her again. My heart rate slowed and my will returned. She left and came back and I understood I had been asleep, for how long I had no idea. She knelt by the bed, slender and naked. I hoped she would lie down with me and then I didn't. I wished a man was there, someone strong to hold me. I said her name.

“You're not like her, are you?” she said. “You like it, even with no one watching.”

Her voice sounded sad. I didn't know how to answer. She smiled and touched my face and we slept.

I
woke and extracted myself from Audrey's arms. The bright day chiseled at my head. I felt poisoned. I got in the shower and stood under the water until it ran cold, then dressed in jeans and a blue cowboy shirt with white birds embroidered above the pockets. My skin felt sensitive. I moved carefully around the apartment, brewed a pot of coffee, gathered up last night's clothes from the middle of the living room floor. I was pulling on my boots when Audrey awoke.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey.”

She sat up and rubbed her eyes. Her beauty seemed magnified in the morning light, her makeup smeared, her hair disheveled. I didn't know what to say to her. I felt impaired, awkward.

“Do you want some coffee?” I said. “Or a shower? You can take a shower if you want. I'm going out for cigarettes.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Make yourself at home. I'll be back in a few minutes.”

I slid sunglasses on and walked to the gas station five blocks
away. There was a closer store, but I needed the time away, and the space. I'd never been with a girl before, not like that. I didn't know what it meant or how to act. I wondered what she was thinking. Everything felt out of context. There were no boundaries anywhere. My regular life, work and running and hanging out with Michael, had gotten so far away. None of it was possible now.

I smoked on the way home, taking my time. The cigarette made me feel dirty. Upstairs I was relieved to find Audrey was in the shower. I sipped coffee. The caffeine only reactivated the coke, agitating me.

Audrey came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, an opened beer in her hand.

“Found it in the fridge,” she said. “I love drinking beer in the shower. I felt like shit when I first woke up, did you?”

“I'm still a little shaky,” I said.

“Here,” she said, handing me the beer, still half full. “This will help. Can I borrow some clean clothes?”

“Sure,” I said. “Whatever you want.”

After a few sips of beer I started to relax and my headache eased up. Audrey emerged from my closet in a yellow sundress, and it gave me a feeling of déjà vu. Something about drinking in the morning, the way the light came in the window.

“Danielle used to always borrow my clothes,” I said.

“Yeah, mine, too. She was like a poacher. Of tank tops.”

“She used to live here, you know.”

“What?” Audrey said. “In this apartment?”

“Yeah. A couple of years ago. Before prison and all that.”

Audrey looked around in wonder. “How long have you lived here?” she said.

“Since middle school. It was my mom's place. I inherited the lease.”

“I've never lived anywhere a whole year,” she said. “Don't you get tired of it?”

“I don't know. I don't think about it. There was never a reason to move, you know?”

“The memories don't bother you?”

“Wouldn't I still have memories if I moved? I'd have the same brain.”

“No, you get a new brain when you sign a lease,” she said. “I can't believe you didn't know that.”

“In that case I should definitely move. Not all the memories are bad, though.”

“I hate to think about the past,” Audrey said, finishing the beer. “Even good memories make me sad. “Cause they're over.”

“I see what you mean.”

“Do you want to go get breakfast?” She picked up a pink barrette of mine and stuck it in her hair.

“I don't think I can eat,” I said. “Not yet.”

“Poor baby, still feeling bad? I guess we drank a lot.”

“And the coke,” I said. “I'm not used to it.”

“I had fun last night, though,” Audrey said. She smiled at me. “Let's split another beer.”

“Okay.” I got a beer from the fridge and lit a cigarette while she loaded her one-hitter.

“This will make you feel better, too,” she said, handing it to me.

I took a hit and held it, watching her in the yellow dress. My apartment felt less stable with her in it. Less like mine. She reminded me too much of Danielle. It was unsettling.

“That dress looks awesome on you,” I said. “You should keep it.”

“Don't be silly, I'll give it back. I like wearing your clothes, though.”

“Really, why?”

“I don't know. They're cute. They smell like you.”

“Fabric softener.”

“Is that what it is? I like it.”

“It's pretty attainable. I buy it at the grocery store.”

She laughed, leaned over, kissed me on the mouth. Again I was shocked by her softness and her delicate lips. Electric flashes from the previous night shot through my body. I recoiled, my head spinning.

“Sorry,” I said. “I feel sick.”

“Okay, I'll go. Call me later, okay?”

I let her out the front door. It was a relief to be alone and have some time to think, to get organized. I drank a glass of water, ate a piece of toast, and took my clothes to the Laundromat. I sat on top of a washer while a handful of Mexican kids played and shrieked around me. Every few minutes they would assemble to work out some new rules to their game, which involved jumping out from behind the machines and growling like lions. A girl my age called out to a little boy. She gave him a cup of applesauce and he sat on the floor to eat it. She folded a sheet into a sharp square and picked up another. I wished I could fold myself up that neatly.

I thought about Audrey. She was so good at distracting herself from Danielle. I didn't understand how she did it. The drugs helped, obviously. Sex and drugs. But still, I couldn't get Danielle out of my head. I couldn't stop wondering who killed her, or thinking about those pictures of her, or the videos. It was all jumbled up in my head, along with what Detective Ash had suggested that night at House of Pies—that maybe I had something to do with it. It didn't make sense, but it kept nagging at me. I transferred my clothes to the dryer and called him.

He answered on the second ring.

“Hey, it's Charlotte,” I said.

“Yeah,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

“I just wondered if you found anything out. About Sally? Or her brother?”

“Yeah, we did. I was meaning to call you. We checked up on him. We found out this morning, the uncle's out of the picture.”

“Are you sure?” I said.

“Positive. He's been in prison for three years. Good alibi.”

“For what?” I said.

“For rape,” he said. “He was doing it out there. In Colorado. They finally caught him.”

“Oh my god,” I said.

“So it's not him. And he won't hurt any more little girls. He'll be locked up a long time.”

“What about Sally?”

“I told you before, we've been very thorough, we haven't found anything that leads us in that direction.”

“But it's so much money, and they always fought. And the timing of it—”

“Charlotte, right now you need to just sit tight. Be patient. We will be making an arrest fairly soon, I think.”

“Who?”

“I can't talk about it. But be careful. Steer clear of Brandon Young.”

“You think it was him.”

“I'll let you know when we have something definitive.” He hung up.

Back home I put my clean clothes away. I began to tidy my shoes, lining them in pairs on the floor of the closet. The corners of the closet were dusty, so I got the broom and dustpan, and then the trash needed taking out, and I spilled coffee
grounds on my shirt. I took it off to try to wash it in the sink and I tripped over a pile of shoes I had moved in order to sweep, and banged my knee against the bed. “Motherfucker,” I said aloud. I kicked the shoes into a corner, the shirt with it, and started to cry.

If I had said something years ago, when I first found out about Danielle's uncle, if I had convinced her to go to the police, then maybe he would have been in prison a long time ago. I never thought about it at the time. But I should have. How many girls had he hurt in Colorado?

I put on running clothes and went out in the heat of the day. I circled the zoo and the fountain, feeling the toxins sweating out of my body. I was punishing myself. I ran alongside the art museum. Its cool stone rose from the sidewalk, making me feel small and ephemeral. Usually it was a nice contrast from everything that was cheap and new, from brainless nights of television, takeout dinners from the strip mall, the irritating whine of mosquitoes. But today I didn't find it comforting. I wondered if Danielle had even known her uncle was in prison, and if she did, how she felt about it. She and Audrey both were good at making light of serious things. Maybe that's why they liked each other so much. They could just do drugs and hang out, gliding along the surface.

I never got addicted to drugs when Danielle did. After a couple of days of being high, I wanted a break. I craved order, time alone, exercise. Danielle just wanted more pills. I knew it wasn't any kind of strength of character. I wasn't better than her. We both did whatever we felt like. It was only luck that what I wanted was not as dangerous. I used to think she was the lucky one, with her rich mom, her fancy house, her beauty and popularity. Things looked different now. Poor Danielle. The thing with her uncle, getting addicted to dope, even get
ting caught, all of that was bad luck. There were plenty of illegal things I had done, but I never went to prison. And now the murder. It was like she was cursed.

I slowed to a walk for the last half mile, breathing hard, feeling weak and thirsty and sad, but calmer. Until I saw Michael sitting on my steps. An iced coffee sweated in his hand. He was wearing sunglasses. I couldn't see his eyes.

“Hey,” he said.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I said.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“You could have called.”

“I didn't think you would answer the phone,” he said.

He was right, I wouldn't have. I shrugged, stepped past him, and unlocked the door. He followed me inside. In the kitchen I drank a glass of water and filled it again from the tap. I splashed water on my face.

“So, you're here. What do you want?” I said.

“I missed you,” he said. “I wanted to apologize for the way I've handled things.”

“What things? You mean cheating on me? And dumping me? To go back with the girl you said was too self-involved to be in a relationship. Too immature. Y'all had nothing in common. That's what you told me.”

“I'm sorry, really I am. You're great. I love you. I wish this had never happened.”

“Tired of her already?” I said.

“It's not that.”

“Does she know you're here?”

“Actually, no.”

“Huh. Interesting.”

“Charlotte, I realize you're mad. You have a right to be.”

“I'm not mad,” I said. I tried to call up my feelings when he'd
first told me about her, and when I saw them together. I had been hurt, and yes, angry. It was only last week but it seemed so long ago. I didn't feel much now. Sad, maybe.

He picked up a bracelet from the coffee table and played with it, spinning it around his finger. It was Audrey's, she must have left it. I had such a hard time imagining the two of them, Michael and Audrey, occupying the same world. I wondered what he'd think of me if I told him about her. About me and her. I blushed. Suddenly I couldn't stand him being in my apartment.

“Put that down,” I said. “Let's go outside.”

We wandered down the block and turned on Binz, retracing my jogging route. It was a relief to see him, in a way. He was familiar, even if he was an asshole. He was part of my regular life, before all this Danielle shit. I felt almost normal.

We went on, past the corner store and the chicken place and the Jamaican restaurant, and gradually the cracked sidewalks gave way to newer pavement. Landscaped shrubs and lawns replaced the patchy grass and garbage. On the next block lights illuminated the children's museum's bright cartoon caryatids. I lit a cigarette.

“Look, I made a mistake,” he said. “It's not working out with her.”

“That was quick. Hardly worth all this drama, really.”

“I know,” he said.

“Is she still too immature for you? Or maybe you liked fucking her in secret. It's not fun now she's your actual girlfriend?”

“It's not that. It's you. I can't stop thinking about you. The other night at the bar, seeing you—”

“Look, I'm sorry about that,” I said. “I wasn't at my best.” I didn't tell him the rest, getting pulled over, all that. It seemed so long ago.

“It was my fault,” Michael said. “We shouldn't have gone there.”

“Why not?”

“I knew it was your favorite place. I guess we should have discussed it ahead of time, to avoid running into each other.”

“Bar custody?” I said. “Jesus, that's sad.”

“Well, it's too small a town. We should have talked it over.”

“There's six million people here,” I said.

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah.”

“I hate that I hurt you,” he said. I could tell he meant it.

“It's okay,” I said. “I'm over it.”

“What's going on with you?” Michael said.

“What do you mean?”

“I guess I thought you'd be more upset with me. At least a little more.”

“A lot's happened,” I said.

“You met somebody.”

“That's actually none of your business, at this point.”

“Seriously? Already? Not that idiot you were with at the bar?”

“Michael, stop it.”

“It is him. That guy? Fuck.”

“No, it's not. It's not what you think, okay? Danielle, my old friend, remember her?”

“The stripper? What about her?”

“She died. Compared to that, I kind of don't give a fuck about you and your little girlfriend, or who you're fucking, or whatever.”