Madison

Momma hadn't come home again. Ashlyn didn't know yet because she wasn't home from soccer practice, and I was thankful for that. I couldn't stand to tell her some lie about how Momma was just working late, or if I felt more original, she hadn't forgotten us at all; she had even made us dinner before she went who knows where with who knows who.

I just was counting my luck that Beau wasn't around this time when she wasn't.

I decided to enjoy the trailer on my own, as much as I could. It was seldom quiet, but when it was, I could pretend.

I pretended that it wasn't a trailer at all. The noises outside weren't people fighting, dangerous people, because they were just someone next door watching a movie.

Point being, I could only pretend when I was by myself. When Ashlyn was around, it was hard to enough to stay strong for the two of us. I couldn't afford to daydream.

I'm six questions into my math homework, the last two being extra credit that keeps me busy and not thinking, when I hear a rustling at the door.

I put the books down and start to gather them up quick. I try to make it to the back, but I'm not fast enough.

"Where's your mother?"

"Not here," I say, trying to slow my pace to a walk when everything inside of me is telling me to run.

Beau isn't nice on a good day, but on a bad day, a drinking day, there was no dealing with him.

"You face me when I'm talking to you." His voice is low, and I know better than to ignore it. One black eye a few months ago and three days out of school taught me that lesson.

I sit my books on the floor and look back at him. The saddest part is that in a different life, he wouldn't be all that bad looking. He's not ugly for his age, until he speaks, and then a world of evil comes out of those lips.

I'm not wearing enough. The fantasy of me really being myself made me foolish, dressing casually in some old jeans shorts that are getting smaller on me any time I wear them and a tank top I stole from Ashlyn during laundry. She's smaller than me, but she has better clothes, a product of friends who care about her. I'm in short supply of those.

I see Beau look me over. I cross my arm over my chest, trying to hide it. I've always been too big there. They've earned me nothing but trouble since they showed up in sixth grade.

"Get over here."

"For what?"

"Did you just backtalk me?" He takes a step towards me, but there's a stumble in it. He's been drinking. I know it. His eyes look me over, making me feel dirty, and the realization that I'm alone with a drunk Beau is settling into my bones.

"No, I didn't mean to." Be nice. Don't fight. Leave the room.

"Then get over here."

I walk closer, knowing I shouldn't but scared to do much else. I stop shy of getting within three feet, but he closes the distance fast, too fast.

His hand grips my arm, and his leer goes down my shirt, touching me where his hands haven't yet.

I gasp before I know I did it.

"You're hurting me," I say, quiet but I hate myself because there's a quiver in it. I told myself I'd never let him see me scared. Not again.

"You like it. Whores always do."

"I'm not a whore."

His arm grabs me harder, lifting that side of my body. It'll mark. I'll be the only girl in Blue Hills High wearing long sleeves tomorrow.

"The fuck did you just say to me?"

"I'm not a whore."

"You wear shit like this, walk around the house trying to get me hard. You got a whore's body, girl, and you're always showing it off."

I close my eyes. I'm not going to cry. No matter what happens. I won't.

I feel ill. He's been looking at me. I knew he had, but hearing it from his lips is something else. It's sick.

I keep my eyes closed, but I feel him against my leg now. His breathing is hard.

"Look at me." I won't. He shakes me by the arm. "Look at me now, Maddie."

"Don't you dare call me that," I say, my eyes opening.

He shoves me and I fall back against the couch.

"We'll get along much better when you realize I do what the fuck I want."

He moves closer, and I scramble backwards. My leg hurts now from the angle I landed on the couch, but I move across the cushions to get to the other side.

Beau advances faster, one hand on his belt.

I feel like I'm going to puke. This can't be happening. I suck in a breath.

Then I hear a noise outside, voices. It's Ashlyn with her friend Jessie. Beau turns, buttoning up his pants as the door opens.

Ashlyn looks straight at me. "Maddie?"

I sit up straight and try to act like everything is okay.

"Tell your mother I came by," Beau says as he walks towards the door. "Ladies." He tips an imaginary hat at them, and Jessie smiles. She's smiling at a monster.

He shuts the door, and I can hear his boots crushing the gravel on the way to his pickup.

As soon as we hear his truck rumble to a start, Jessie speaks.

"He is so hot."

"Jessie." Ashlyn knows something is wrong. Like me, she doesn't like Beau but she doesn't have a real reason why, beyond him seeming like a scumbag. I hope she never gets a reason.

She turns to me. "Maddie, you okay?"

"Yep. Just finishing math. You know, same old."

"Had Beau been here long?"

"Not long. Was looking for Momma."

"Where is she?" she asks, still young enough to be hopeful. I know she hopes one day that Momma will be everything she's supposed to be. A provider. Someone who loves us and shows it, though Ashlyn gets more affection than I ever have.

"Working late." Lie. "Did y'all already eat?"

"Not yet. Can we order pizza?"

I think about the little bit I have saved from waiting tables at Benny's over the summer a few months back. I don't want to use if I don't have to, but I don't want to let Ashlyn know we're struggling. She's good, so I'm good. That's how that works. Momma will cash a check and slip up, and we'll be fine for a few more weeks.

I'd get another job, but I don't want Ashlyn to ever be alone here. Not for Beau, not for anyone else with sick ideas.

"Sure, let's get pizza."