Tracks (Rock Bottom) (9 page)

I stood by the door for a minute. I
didn’t know what I had just witnessed exactly, but I knew I shouldn’t tell my mother, and I never did. But I’m sure she eventually found out herself. I had heard through the years of many affairs my father had with his students, from various sources. I had even heard some of my old bubbly, idiot classmates from high school had run-ins with him. I hated my father for a long time, and I’m still bitter in many ways.

Not that
my mother was innocent either. How I came to be was always a mystery to everyone in the neighborhood. I had been asked on more than one occasion if I had been adopted. Here I am with two parents with olive skin, dark hair, and brown eyes. I had blonde hair, fair skin, and the strangest, biggest green eyes anyone had ever seen. My whole life all I had ever heard about was my eyes. They are definitely the most noticeable thing on me. I used to love it. Even when other kids in school used to say I looked like an alien, I thought they were so beautiful. How bright and amazingly green they were, and how they had specks of blue and gold, made me feel like I had a whole world in my eyes. I sometimes imagined I actually was from another planet- an alien princess.

One day, however
, that all changed. When I was finally going into 3
rd
grade, which was in a new school building for us, I was very excited because I knew I was going into my mother’s class. My mom brought me in early the first day so that I could help her set up and welcome my new classmates.

Before the kids arrived, I hear
d a knock on my mom’s classroom door. A man appeared, tan and handsome with light blonde hair, and walked into the classroom. He was wearing a brown suit and was straitening his tie.

“Patricia,” he said, before he noticed me and stopped
in his tracks. I heard my mother’s breath catch. “Paul,” she said, quickly. “This is my daughter, Dylan.” She motioned to him as she put a hand on my shoulder. “Dylan, this is Mr. Horris. He’s your new principal.”

I stared up at this man in disbelief. Looking into his face, I saw myself- clear
as day. Every feature had been identical. Our noses both curved slightly upward. Our cheeks were both high and our faces rounded. Most importantly, as he stared down at me, I noticed his green alien eyes staring back into my own.

I didn’t understand how my patients could do that to me or each other.
I had found out later that my mom had been in love with my real father for a long time, but he was married, and wasn’t interested in leaving his wife. She had been used by him, tormented. I started to question if true love actually existed, or just didn’t exist for my parents. But these discretions are so common. All people in love seem to do is constantly hurt each other and the people around them. I knew from then on that I would probably never get married and that I never wanted kids.

I guess it ended up being too much for my mother to handle. She began to act strangely. She would come home at all hours of the night, drunk and sloppy. She would randomly not show up to work.
Eventually she was fired from her job, and those last months were where she really went wild. My Dad tried to protect me as best he could, but at 9 I knew what was going on. A few months after she was fired, I had come home from school and found her on the kitchen floor, cold with a needle still in her arm.

In the
note I had found, addressed to my father, she had said that she had hoped having me would help save her life and make her happy, but that it hadn’t worked.

I can’t bear to look at my eyes anymore. Because i
t just reminds me of everything; of the childhood realization that storybook love doesn’t exist. Of my mother’s affair with a man who couldn’t give a damn. Of the fact that I wasn’t enough to keep her alive. So I threw myself into school work, ignored the boys as my body changed and they began to notice me, and moved out of my parent’s house as soon as I could.

After I talked for what felt like an hour, I paused and looked at Jeremy. He didn’t say anything, but I could tell behind his eyes he was thinking. We were still on the re
d couch, but we had finished our lunches, and we were leaning against the back of it, only our knees touching as we faced each other.

Finally, he spoke, “You know, that story is kind of beautiful.” He take
s a sip of the beer he’s drinking, his second.

I try to make my face still as I process that information. Emotions wash over me: shock, confusion, anger, and wonder. I deci
de to go with confusion. “Huh?”

“People who don’t
experience pain like that- they don’t turn out to be people of substance. You know, people who make a difference,” he says as he sits up.

I mak
e a disgusted sound in my throat. “I am totally fucked up by what my mother did to me,” I say, still aghast at his reaction to my story.

“Fucked up?” he questions
, confused. “Why? Because you’re shy? Because you’re private? Because you don’t like to be vulnerable? Because you strive to achieve great things to prove you’re good enough to be worth something?”

The way he instantly kno
ws me makes me very uncomfortable. I freeze, wide eyed and unable to speak for a moment. How could he seem to see me so clearly? How did this connection between us go so deeply? It was disturbing to me, the understanding between us. It’s deeper than even the physical pull between us, as if the air that separates our bodies is electrically charged. I had worked my whole life to push people away, building up this wall of protection. And yet here is this man, literally tearing it down and seeing who I am through all the bullshit.

“Yeah,” I finally muttered. “Thos
e reasons are pretty much why.”

“It makes you beautiful. The thin
gs you say it created in you… are what attract me to you in this unbelievable way. Other than for the initial physical reasons.”

I go statue still. My heart feels like it’s going to explode at his words.
How did our conversation change course so quickly? I don’t know if I’m prepared for this. “Physical?” I repeat in disbelief.

He smiles a cat-like smile.
Immediately, my breathing increases. “Oh yes. When I first saw your eyes from the stage in that room,” he leans closer to me. I want to both back away and lean toward him at the same time. “I wanted to make them roll back into your head. I wanted to grab your round hips and pull you close to me.” He crouches on the couch, one leg on and one leg off, leaning over me. With his face against my cheek again, he whispers in my ear, “You. Are. Breathtaking.”

His hot breath in my ear is almost too much. I am audibly panting.
He places his hands on my shoulders and pulls his head away. His face is inches from mine. He searches my eyes with his, looking for permission. I nod slightly, and he leans in to kiss me. When his mouth reaches mine, I inhale sharply through my nose. His lips are so warm and soft and delicious. He kisses me sweetly at first, moving his right hand from my shoulder to my face, resting it on my cheek. Slowly, he runs his hands down to my chin and grabs it roughly, opening his mouth. I gasp but open my mouth with him, allowing his tongue to caress mine. He tastes like cigarettes and beer, but it’s a sexy taste- the thrill of the bad boy I’d never gotten to date in high school.

He pushes my face back a little so that I’m lying on the couch and he is almost on top of me. I want to wrap my arms around him but I’m frozen, unable
to move and nervous. He lets go of my face but we continue kissing. I can feel his erection against my thigh as he lays closer to me, making me moan. “Yes,” he whispers, a rough song under his breath. He runs both of his hands down the outside of my arms and across my waist. I feel like if I don’t have his hands all over me soon, I’ll combust.

His hands continue to mo
ve under my shirt, slowly, and up to my bra. He kisses me harder as his fingers begin to run over the outside of the cups. I feel a light movement against my nipples as he pushes my bra up and over my large breasts, freeing them. He makes a guttural sound in his throat, grabbing them roughly with both hands.

I release from his kiss and throw my head back, squirming and whining. He pinches my nipples with thumb and pointer, and rolls them gently. The tingling in my groi
n is utterly unbearable. He kisses my throat, starting at my chin and working down to the collar of my shirt.

“
Baby,” he says, releasing my breasts and grabbing the bottom of my shirt. He pulls it up, and I sit up a bit and raise my arms so he can pull it over my head. He pulls my bra off just as quickly. He throws both onto the coffee table, pausing as his blue eyes look at my exposed body. I should be self-conscious, but he looks so amazed and hungry. It makes me feel…sexy.

“You relax,” he says, staring into my eyes with a smoldering look. “Because I’m going to make you feel so good.” His voice is rough.
I take in his beautiful body, now glistening with sweat. He looks glorious and triumphant.

My breath is shaky
as he leans down and puts my right breast in his mouth. I moan, squirming under his body. He could make me cum just like this, and I have never, ever finished during sex. He bites down on the nipple and then moves his tongue quickly back and forth over it. “Ah!” I scream, and put both hands over my mouth.

He looks up from my breast at me and
grabs my arms with both hands. “No you don’t,” he says, angrily throwing my arms away from my face. “I want to hear you. I need to hear that I make you feel good.”

“Oh God!”
I scream, as he takes the other breast in my mouth and bites and licks the same way. “You do!”

He releases my breast and travels down my stomach, kissing the whole way, as he uses his hands to unbutton my jeans.
I thrust my hips upwards so he can pull my pants and thong down more easily. “That’s it,” he whispers, looking into my face. His head is now between my legs, right above me. He takes his hand and, still looking up to stare into my eyes, rubs me with two fingers. I close my eyes, moaning for him. He starts slowly, in a circular motion, and then picks up speed. I moan louder. I open my eyes to look at him. His gaze is steady, never looking away from me. I feel uncomfortable, but I like that he seems pleased by looking at me. His hand moves faster and faster. I moan louder and louder. And suddenly, he stops. I open my eyes and look down at him, upset and confused. He smiles wickedly when he sees the disappointment on my face, “You’re going to finish, but I want to taste you,” he says, making my stomach muscles tighten.

He places his
tongue where his fingers just were. I immediately, without control, bring my knees up towards my chest. He moans and moves his tongue faster. He sticks three fingers in me as he goes, and I am dripping wet for him. I finally feel his smooth face against my inner thighs.

I’m screaming,
and I feel like I should care that I may be scaring the stage hands outside the door, but I don’t. I’m trying to grasp at the leather on the couch, but I feel myself building and building, and I know I’m close. I throw my hands into his messy blonde hair and pull. He moans louder and continues faster.

I finally release, shaking and screaming.
He grabs on to my hips tightly and holds, pulling his fingers out and sticking his tongue in me to taste me. When I collapse on the couch, breathless, he sits up and pants, leaning against the opposite arm rest.

“Shit,” he speaks, breathless.
He throws his head back and closes his eyes.

I’m still shaking. He turns his head and looks at me. He smiles crookedly, and I smile a dumb grin at him. He laughs under his breath and crawls on top of me
. He places his cheek on my chest, resting his head. I hug him to me and I still feel his erection against my legs. I’m not sure where we’re supposed to go from here, but he’s not making any attempt to get up from where he’s lying on top of me. Am I supposed to do something? What am I supposed to do?

There’s a quiet knock at the door. My head flies up from the arm rest, but Jeremy doesn’t seem alarmed. “Jer-
“ a male voice says. “Sound check, buddy.”

Jeremy puts his head down, forehead first, on my chest. “Alight,” he says, low and sexy. I hear the man’s footsteps walk away.

Jeremy raises his head and looks into my eyes again. His eyes are calm, almost serene, and strikingly aqua. He smiles and moves up to my lips. I close my eyes and he kisses me, soft and sweet, on my mouth.

Jeremy stands up from the couch and quickly adjusts himself. I grab my jeans from the floor and slide them on, curled to try and hide my body.
It seems silly with everything that just happened, but I still try to avoid full view of me naked.

Jeremy walks over to the mirror and runs his hand through his hair as I put on my bra and blouse. We’re in a comfortable silence, trying to absorb what just happened.
I kind of feel like a teenager who just had sex for the first time in her basement while her parents weren’t home. It’s all exciting and new. At least to me.

I stand and face him as he walks away from the mirror. He smiles, showing his teeth, and looks at the floor. I flush red
, both of us embarrassed. He looks up again and slinks over to me, causing my muscles to clench throughout my body. He puts both of his hands on my cheeks, and I wrap my hands around him. The muscles in his back are fantastic. How can someone be so muscular, but so long and lanky? His white shirt sticks to his skin again.