“JC, wake up. I need to talk to you.”nextGo away.
“Come on!”
Leave me before I take the blade under my pillow and stab you in the eye.
“Josh, fuck me.”
My eyes open at the three words I loved to hear. Josh. Fuck. Me. Love it! It was Gennie. I rolled over and see her standing beside my bunk wearing a rather tight tank top and ripped jeans. God she’s gorgeous. “Humm?”
She leans in close to me, “You are such…” A smile is planted on her lips. I know what’s she’s going to say. She’s going to praise me for being such an amazing fuck. Come on, baby, say it… “an ass hole!” Uh… ass hole. Lover. Ass. Lover. Hole. Lover. The last time I checked, they were complete opposites.
“What?”
She grabs my arm and pulls me out of the bunk. Lucky me, I get to fall on the ground butt naked. I stand up, not shy of the blessing God has given me. I actually smile at being naked. Gennie on the other hand, doesn’t seem to care. She walks towards the back yelling at me to follow. Like a whipped puppy, I do. Why? I… don’t… know. She takes a seat and looks over at me. “You really hurt Samantha tonight.”
Oh damn. It’s about her again. Gennie, I don’t wish to talk about the little whore. I want to talk about us. Us. The two of us. Josh and Gennie. Gennie and Josh. I love you. Can’t you tell? I let out a groan, “What did I do now?”
“You told her Lance was fucking Livvie.”
“He is.” Glare. Shit. But boy, does that turn me on. Yes, I know. I have a penis for a brain. And here he comes to say hello. Oh boy, he’s awake now.
“JC, no he isn’t.”
“Yes he is.” Damn it, Gina! You were the one that found out and told me!
“Josh, remember the promise you made to me when you said that you would never tell? Well, you blew it. You told.”
Horseshit. I made no promise. “Why would I make a promise like that?”
Gennie lifted herself off the couch and paced around the small room, “I don’t understand you sometimes.” I don’t understand myself. “You say one thing and then do the other. You promise lies. You…”
What? No, don’t stop! “What?”
“You said you would never hurt me again and last night you drove a fucking fork in my hand,” she raised her and showed the heavy bandage around it. “Then you use the same fork and stab me in my leg.”
You loved it, you masochist. I look around the room trying to find a clock. The VCR clock catches my attention as I note the time. 3:27 am. I stare at the time while the room fills with silence. Gennie takes a seat next to me, resting her head on my shoulder. I can smell the sweet smell of her shampoo along with her perfume. I inhale. Ah, Pear Fantasy. Delicious. I can’t help but rest my head on hers as I listen to her breath deeply. I know what she’s about to ask.
“Why do I love you?” Because you can’t live without me. You love it when I whip you until you bleed. And when I choke you until you almost lose consciences. And my favorite, when you never tell anyone my secrets. Not even to Joey.
“Same reason I love you.” Did I just say that?
She sits up and kisses my mouth. My lips never move through the whole ordeal. “I hate you.”
I hate myself. “Yes.”
She lies back down on me after she pulls a blanket on my lap. She places her head over it and closes her eyes. Quickly, she’s in a deep sleep. What a scene this makes. Sitting on the couch in the back of the bus at 3:30 in the morning, naked I might add, and confessing our love for one another. This is a perfect ending to an imperfect night. Only I can’t call it an ending just yet. Too many thoughts are on my mind. One of them being my lust late at night.
I don’t know what really happened to me. I used to be “normal.” It was only until fame struck me that I became a complete ass. I never looked at a girl and wondered what her head would look like in a microwave. I used to be able to make love to a girl without wanting to shove a long crude object up her nose and try my own form of mummification. What was wrong with me? My fingers start playing with a lock of Gennie’s hair as I remember the times I wouldn’t hurt her. It happened too fast one night that I wanted to have the bitter taste of blood on my tongue. I could have killed her that night but I held back. Why? Was it my love for the young woman or was that I was too scared she might live through it. Whatever it was, I was actually thankful I hadn’t ended her life. She meant too much. More than anything. More than my lust for blood.
I kiss her temple as I slide out from under her and get dressed. The night was too young to call it over. I wonder if there were any lost teenage girls out as I step off the bus, my bag slung around my shoulders.