The Arrangement 8

“Sean asked me to stay with him,” I don’t look at her as I say it. Instead, I twist the hem of my coat sleeve. I didn’t plan on telling anyone that, but the words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. I feel like I’ve been through an emotional shredder and from the way Mel is looking at me, it must be visible on my face. “He offered to pay me so I could stop working for Black.”



One of Mel’s dark brows rises as her mouth opens. For a moment, she’s speechless, which is super-weird. “What? What are you talking about?”



“He said he loves me, and offered to make me his mistress.”



Mel blinks at me. “What’d you say?”



“I said no, that it wasn’t my dream to be someone’s mistress. I want more, and he doesn’t—so Sean walked away.” My voice is too soft, too steady. I blink away the stinging that’s been building behind my eyes and smile at her. “I know you hated him, but he meant something to me. I just need to make sure I have no extra time so I can’t think about him. I’ll fill up my weekends with work and focus on school. It’ll be all right.”



“Honey, I don’t know if you should—”



I start to walk past her with a plastic smile on my face. It feels so wrong, so utterly out of place. “I’m fine, Mel. I’ll see you tonight. We can have pancakes for dinner. I know you’ve been dying to go to IHOP for a while.”



Mel says she’ll talk to me later, but she has that concerned look on her face—the kind people give when they know you’re in over your head. I head down to my car and turn the engine over. I love that it starts on the first try. I love that the windows close and the seatbelt works. I stop thinking about these things because they lead my thoughts back to Sean.



CHAPTER 4



Captree is a little park down by Robert Moses beach. There are docks and that’s where I go after stopping at a deli to grab an egg on a roll and a cup of coffee. I walk to the end of a pier, past some people waiting to board a fishing boat, sit down, and dangle my legs over the edge. It’s not as cold today.



The wind whips my hair into my mouth as I bite down. I spit out the bite of sandwich and the hair and continue to claw at my tongue. I think I swallowed some hair, which skeeves me out.



“Hey, stranger,” he says. I glance over my shoulder and see Marty standing behind me with his hands in the pockets of his corduroy barn coat. His hair is blown every which way, and his cheeks are rosy, like he’s been down here for a while.



“What are you doing here?” I never figured out what to say to Marty after he told me that he had feelings for me. Besides, how do you forgive someone for lying like that?



You forgave Mel, my inner voice reminds me.



“I’m going out on a flounder boat for the day. Thought I’d do something manly for a change.” He gives me a crooked smile.



My eyes don’t meet his for long. I can’t look at him without regret pooling into my mouth like vomit. I miss him, I know I do, but I don’t know how to get past what he did. Do I just pretend it never happened? Do I act like Marty’s just a friend, even when I know he wants more? Everything seems so hard and I wish to God that it wasn’t. I want my Marty back, but that guy doesn’t exist. This one does—the guy in the thick coat with the chapped cheeks.



“You know how to fish?”



“Not really,” Marty steps closer and sits next to me. “How hard can it be?”



“You know you have to touch worms and shove hooks through their wriggling bodies, right?”



“Yup, I brought gloves.” He pulls out a pair of yellow plastic dishwashing gloves, which makes me laugh.



“You can’t use those!”



Marty gives me a sideways look that says he’s teasing, trying to make me smile like he used to. It’s weird how much a person can communicate with a single look. “I planned on wearing a yellow rain coat and matching boots, but I thought the other wharf guys would make fun of me.”



“Ya think?”



“Yeah, but what’s life without a little color?”



“You can drop the gay thing, Marty.”



“What gay thing? A guy can’t like yellow?” He bumps his shoulder into mine and I bump him back. I take a few bites of my sandwich before he says, “Are we good?”



I nod slowly. “Yeah, we’re good, or close enough. Gooder, maybe.”



The tension in Marty’s shoulders lessens. I rip off a piece of my roll and hand it to him. Marty pops it into his mouth. “Would you like to come with me? I’m pretty sure the boat isn’t full.”



“Can’t. I have to work this afternoon.”



“Oh.” Marty goes silent. It’s like I took an ax to the conversation and killed it.



“Want to come to dinner with me and Mel later? We’re IHOP-ing it.”



“Yeah, sounds great. I’ll have worked up a manly appetite by then, and will have a serious craving for some crepes.” I laugh again and hand him another piece of my roll. Marty pops it into his mouth and says, “Don’t hang out here by yourself for too long.”



“Because of the bodies in the marsh? Marty that was a long time ago. No one is going to kill me.”



“No, because I don’t want the ghosts of the dead hookers to show up and give you tips.”



I smack his shoulder hard and Marty fakes falling to the side. I grab his arm and pull him back before he really falls off the dock. I punch his arm lightly. It had been a teasing gesture between us once. I wonder if we’ll ever have that back. The corner of my mouth tips up and I shake my head, laughing lightly. “Asshole.”



“I told you I’m not gay. You can call me dick, now.” He says it proudly, like I’m a dick should be plastered on his tee shirt.



“Go catch your boat, dick. They’re going to leave without you.” I shake my head as Marty jumps up. He looks down the dock to where his boat is boarding. A large scruffy man hollers last call.



“See you later?”



“Yeah.”



When did my life turn to shit? Was it before or after I met Black? I’m not sure anymore. It seems that I traded one set of problems for another.



As I watch Marty board his boat, regret squeezes my ribcage with its giant hands. I wish things could go back to the way they were. Life before Black was less complicated. I was poor, but I had friends. Now I have the cash I need to do what I want, but I’ve damaged all of my relationships—and my heart.



CHAPTER 5



When I get back to the room, Amber is gone. Relieved, I jump in the shower and let the scalding water turn me lobster-colored. When I get out, I step from the tiny bathroom with a towel around my body and dripping hair. I seriously need to do wash because there never seems to be enough towels.



My phone chirps, so I walk over to it. Tucking a damp piece of hair behind my ear, I look down at the text message, hoping beyond reason that it’s Sean and that he’s changed his mind. But when I lift it and look at the screen, it isn’t. Hope is stupid. It keeps making me do irrational things. Sean isn’t coming back for me—he’s gone. I need to accept it and move on.



There’s a picture of Marty holding a tiny fish with his yellow gloves. It makes me smile. He’s such a dork, but I know he sent it to try and cheer me up.



Mel plows through the door, and looks up at me. “Where the hell do you think we live? In fucking Banjo-land? Lock your damn door, Avery. I could have been a serial killer for Chrissakes.”



“Or Naked Guy.” Mel and I shudder in unison as our faces scrunch up in disgust. I grab my brush and start on my hair. “He offered to do me after Amber this morning. Real classy.”



“You want me to show him my mad ninja skills with knives? That’ll turn him whiter than he already is.” Mel grins like she’s thinking about something specific, which is a little bit scary.



“You don’t need to cut anyone for me. I’m good.” I flip my hair over and brush it out. “I’ll take a rain check.”



“Oh? You got plans or something?”



Flipping my hair back, I nearly fall over. Mel laughs at me as I blink and steady myself. “Nah, it’s just Black. She kind of scares the crap out of me.”



Mel makes a sound of agreement and plops down on my bed. It’s still made and looked pretty before Mel rolled on it. She kicks off her shoes and pulls her feet up. “So, I guess now that Psycho Romeo is gone, you want out? All that talk this morning was just talk, right?”



“I can’t quit. I need enough money to finish grad school.” Mel doesn’t say anything, but her expression speaks for her. She thinks that I should leave. “I’m going to load up my schedule now, sign a bunch of contracts, and then bust my ass in summer sessions. I have to prove to the university that I can handle the graduate work.”



“How many contracts are you going to sign? I never sign more than one at a time. It seems too risky and Black isn’t someone you mess around with, Avery. That’s a seriously bad plan.”



I feel dead inside, and it comes across in my voice when I speak. “I just want to get on with my life.”



“So do I, but this is a seriously bad plan. Did you tell anyone else?”



My eyes flick up and meet hers. “You mean Marty? Not really. He said it was killing him. I don’t want to hurt him.”



“He’d tell you that you were being stupid. What would you tell him?”



“That I have to stay alive and this is the only way I know to do it.”



Mel shakes her head. “You’re making a mistake.”



I’m so stressed out that I can’t stand to hear her words right now. “I could really use your support on this. It’s going to be hard enough without you telling me that I’m an idiot.”



“Fine, let’s talk. You have a client in a couple of hours. How are you going to do him? Black will start micromanaging you and ask this shit, so spit it out, Avery.” My face flames red as my eyes dart away from hers. “Shit, girl. You still blush? How could you blush? You fucked Freak Show how many times now, and you still turn cherry red when someone mentions sex. How old are you? Twelve?”