CHAPTER 10
The next morning, Janelle wakes me up by vaulting into my bed. The box spring and mattress is so old that I immediately bounce up.
“Today is gonna be a great day!” She hugs my exhausted body to her chest, lifting me like a ragdoll. “It’s the freakin’ weekend, baby, I’m about to have me some fun…” she sings, quoting “Ignition” by R. Kelly.
I rub my face, my voice coming out in a rasp. “Ugh, get off me, or at least wait until I’ve had my coffee.” I get up, dragging my body to the bathroom. How Janelle has this energy in the morning, I’ll never understand.
After washing up, I walk into our tiny kitchen to put the coffee on. I take out a pan and put it on the stove. I take out eggs and some milk, and immediately scramble them together. I don’t cook anything fancy, but Janelle always tells me I’ve got a gift in the kitchen.
I put some toast in the oven and when it’s all ready, call for my mom and Janelle. My mom lazily walks to our table with a short pink silk robe wrapped around her tall frame. She sits casually and waits for me to serve her.
I put the full plate in front of her, and she tenses. “Where’s the butter and jam?” Her tone raises my guard. I quickly open the refrigerator, taking out what she needs and placing it on the table. Moving to the sink, I immediately begin to wash the pan I’ve already used, making sure to give her a show as to how diligently I clean. My mom will never lift a finger to maintain the apartment, but expects it to be spotless nonetheless; she has an obsession with cleanliness—and as far back as I can remember, always has. The sight of a mess really sets her off, so I do my absolute best to keep things organized at all times. While it’s annoying to be constantly scrubbing, the stress of keeping things perfectly tidy is nothing compared to her wrath if things aren’t up to her standard. I continue to scrub the dishes as my mind wanders back.
***
It’s midnight. I’m officially thirteen years old. Mom barges through the door, unable to stand up straight. Janelle had just paused the show we were watching to wish me a happy birthday. We’re in an embrace when she speaks.
“What the hell is this shit?” Her voice is low and gritty as she stares at us in the darkness.
“Mom?” Janelle asks, sitting up from the couch as my mom pulls off her patent-leather, sky-high platforms, dropping them to the floor. They clatter like dead weight onto the ground. We haven’t seen her in over two weeks.
“What are you girls doing awake?” I feel goosebumps rise on my arms, and I pull the blanket tighter around me.
Janelle clears her throat. “Mom, we were just having fun…it’s—”
“Having fun? I work hard for you girls!” She comes to the side of the couch, grabbing my arm and forcing me to stand.
“You like to stay up late? You’re a little loser, you know that?” She cackles like she’s never heard anything funnier. “I think you’ll make a great housekeeper one day, Eve. Tonight, you better clean this shithole until it’s sparkling.” She flips the lights on, temporarily blinding us. “I’m waiting.” A dark smile settles on her face.
My mother watches me wash every inch of the apartment until the sun rises.
***
I finally blink the memory away, realizing I’ve been scrubbing for way longer than necessary. I hear her voice over the running water. “So, how are you?” I shut off the faucet and turn toward my mother as she takes a long sip from her coffee mug, looking more tired and worn out than usual. It’s a rarity that she asks how I am, and her question catches me off guard.
“I’m good, Mom,” I say hesitantly, drying off the pan with a dish towel. I take a seat at the table across from her, wondering if she’ll be decent this morning.
She hums. “You look good.” She stares at me from the tip of my toes all the way up to my face. “You’re beautiful?” It comes out more like a question than a statement.
I shrug, not replying. I’m not sure what she wants to hear and would rather stay silent than say something that may incite her. Somehow, she always manages to take my kindness as arrogance.
“You’re still working at Angelo’s, right?”
“Yeah, I am. It’s still cool.”
“Don’t embarrass me while you’re there,” she snaps. My mom is forever trying to stay in the good graces of the family, and she’d probably kill me if I ever did anything to jeopardize her relationship. The Borignones are so powerful; I’d never—in my right mind—do anything that could even be potentially construed as messing with them.
She glances around the kitchen, her eyes skittish. “You need to clean this place better, Eve. I can see dust in all the corners. Can’t you see it?” Her voice accuses.
I gather myself before replying. “I’ll make sure to go over it again today.” I try to speak with as much decency as I can muster; any trace of an attitude is a surefire way to get her angry.
“I’m taking a nap. When I wake up, I don’t want to see this disgusting mess.”
“Yes,” I reply calmly.
Janelle walks in, smiling happily. My mom’s gaze turns to my sister. When she’s in these moods, anyone in her path is going to get run over. “Why do you look so happy, Janelle?” Her eyes move from Janelle to me, completely distrustful. Anxiety fills me. She’s rising.
Janelle’s voice is scratchy as she starts. “It’s nice out and I have a full day of clients. Cha-ching!” My mom huffs as I bite my cheek, trying not to laugh.
For whatever reason, my mom never hurts Janelle in the way she does me. I’ll never understand it. Not that I’d ever wish Janelle to feel how I’m feeling, but I just wish I knew why I’m always the one singled out.
My mom’s face turns to ice, her eyes shrinking into slits. She’s obsessively touching her bleached-blond hair, pushing the strands back from her face over and over again. Janelle and I watch as her mood morphs. She stands abruptly, leaving her dirty dish on the table for me to clear and wash. I take a breath of relief when she finally slams her bedroom door, retreating into her cave. Janelle brings her coffee back to our room, leaving me alone in the kitchen.
Sitting by myself, I feel totally relieved. Grabbing my cell off the counter, I scroll through the Post headlines while enjoying my eggs and hot coffee. When I’m done, I wash all of the dishes by hand and put them away neatly in the cabinets where they belong. I step into my room, dropping my body on my unmade bed and wishing I could see Vincent again. I only have a few hours before I need to get to work, and I don’t want to waste any more time on anything other than him. I curl under my covers, shutting my eyes and trying to replay both of our times together for what feels like the trillionth time, when Janelle drops onto my bed, making me bounce up and shaking me out of my reverie. “So, you never told me about what happened with the hot guy you met from the fight.” Her smile is all-knowing, and I flush inside.
I open my mouth, ready to spill every detail, but quickly shut it. I don’t want to tell her anything about Vincent. The whole experience was so new and incredible, I’m afraid if I tell her that it will become less mine somehow. Like once I discuss it, it’ll be out in the universe—and I just want to keep it close to my heart. Who knows if I’ll ever have something like that again. I got lucky twice, and something tells me a third time isn’t in the cards.
Yes, I felt his want for me, but it was also more than that. He looked at me as if I’m someone worth knowing. He didn’t see me like an uppity bookworm. And he didn’t look at me like a poverty-stricken girl to pity, either. For some reason, he just seemed to actually like me. The real me. The me I almost never let anyone see. And God, I liked him. Almost too much.
“Nothing…” I say hesitantly, my eyes darting down for a moment while heat rises into my cheeks. She notices my blush and rolls her eyes.
“Wait,” she asks me nervously. “You didn’t have sex, right?”
My eyes widen with surprise and I laugh. “No! Absolutely not. We just made out and like, some other stuff…”
“Some other stuff?” She immediately sits up, wanting to know every detail.
“Yeah, like, I don’t know. We made out. He touched me…uh, a little.” I take a nervous breath. “I kind of had my first…you know...”
Her eyebrows rise up as she turns to me, smiling with surprise and shock. “Je-sus, Eve. Orgasm? If you can’t say orgasm, God won’t ever let you have one again. You know this rule, right? If you want it, you need to be mature enough to say it!” She’s laughing hard, practically doubling over.
I’m so embarrassed I cover my face with the pillow. When I finally move it away to look back up at her, her eyes are sparkling with excitement.
“Eve. I’m seriously dying right now. God knows you’re old enough. I need details! Did the guy have a huge dick? How was his tongue?” She raises her eyebrows up and down and I quickly bring the pillow over my head for a second time. “Well?” she asks expectantly, moving it away from my face.
“Janelle…it was…” All I can do is let out a heavy sigh, focusing my gaze on the ceiling. She lays back down next to me. “I know. When it’s like that…it’s everything.”
Words just can’t describe it. Instead of pressing me for more information, she throws her leg over mine and pulls me close to her. Janelle understands I’m not ready to talk, and she gives me the space I need. God, I love her.
“I’m so happy for you right now, Eve. I feel like my heart is about to burst. Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’m here.”
I let out a hum in response. I finally shut my eyes again, and he’s all I see.