chapter one
She stepped over a pile of dirty undergarments on her way out the door. “Damned parties…” She muttered, casting a glance at the pile of sweaty bodies on her roommate’s bed. She walked down the musty apartment hallway and out into the noisy streets of nighttime New York City. She never thought she would become a statistic. Another crackwhore living day to day, looking for a stupid SOB to screw.
“Hey, Angie! What’s happenin’ babe?” Melanie, another one “in the business” {as Angie liked to say} called out. Angie waved a hand tipped with bright red nails at her “coworker”.
“Just peachy darlin’, what about you?” Angie said, in a chipper voice. Melanie started to answer, but was distracted by a car pulling up beside her. She waved at Angie and walked seductively to the waiting car. Angie sighed and walked a little further up the street. Across the road she could see a white van pull up in front of a hotel. Out came a group of obviously tired young people, followed by a few tired adults. Angie watched them with curiosity as they walked up the steps. There was something familiar about the three boys with long blonde hair. Yes, that was it. Hanson. That musical group, they sang some, bop song. Angie had always thought them attractive, especially the middle one. What was his name? Angie couldn’t recall it. She was, after all, a twenty-seven year old streetwalker. She didn’t keep up with the teenybopper fads. She didn’t have time for entertainment. All she had time for was sex and drugs. They were her life now.
Taylor gazed out the window, across the street. He could see her, a sparsely dressed woman, leaning against the light post. She seemed like something out of a movie. Maybe, Pretty Woman? He couldn’t believe they were in a hotel across from a call girl avenue. Everyone else had quickly gone to bed, but Taylor couldn’t get to sleep. His sixteen-year-old mind wandered back over to the woman. She was pacing now. He wondered about her. She looked sort of lonely. For a split second, the thought crossed his mind, that he could hire her. But he decided it wouldn’t be all that great to lose his virginity to a prostitute. Maybe he could talk to her though. Being braver than normal, Taylor snuck out of his hotel room and outside. He stared at her for a couple of minutes, not sure it was safe to even talk to her. But the more he looked at her, the sadder she looked. His breath caught in his throat when he realized she was looking back at him. What would she do? To his relief, she did nothing but give him half a smile. She was pretty, Taylor told himself. She seemed sort of out of place in the harsh surroundings. Taylor found himself crossing the street. She watched him approach, unmoving.
“Hi,” He said quietly.
“Aren’t you a little young to be hiring hookers, babe?” She asked in her smoky voice.
“I don’t want to hire you. I just want to talk. If that’s okay…” Taylor trailed off.
“Sure babe, no one wants me anyway.” Angie turned around, and beckoned for Taylor to follow her. That he did. He felt like he was dreaming, since he had never imagined himself following a streetwalker to her place. Or wherever it was she was taking him.
“Um, what’s your name?” Taylor spoke up.
“Angie,” She said, still walking briskly, in her four-inch high heels.
“I’m Taylor.” There was an unintelligible mumble from Angie. She stopped in front of a dark entranceway.
“Well, this is it, home sweet home. Well, sort of. I live in an apartment. It isn’t pretty, but I won’t hurt you.” Taylor just nodded, and followed her in.
Angie couldn’t believe her luck. An extremely beautiful boy wanted her company. He couldn’t be more than sixteen or seventeen, so sex was out of the question. She didn’t want to go to jail. Taylor had a sort of surreal beauty about him. Angie shoved a pile of clothing off of the tattered love seat and motioned for Taylor to have a seat. He sat down gingerly, as if afraid he would catch something.
“So…Taylor…How old are you?” Angie asked.
“Sixteen.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“How old are you?”
“Old enough.”
“That doesn’t tell me much.”
“Yeah I know.” Angie grinned. Taylor smiled back at her. She moved from her perch on the coffee table, to beside Taylor.
“What would your parents say to you being here?” She asked him, lying against the back of the loveseat.
“They would probably kick my ass, and ground me until eternity. But they won’t ever know I’m gone.”
“Okay, well we can just hang out for a while. I think I have some of those chocolate marshmallow things, you want one?” Taylor shrugged. Angie headed into the kitchenette and found the box of cookies under a bowl of old macaroni. She rolled her eyes and brought the box back into the living room.
“It’s probably not what you’re used to…but It’s the best I have,” She told him.
“Actually, junk food is about eighty percent of what I eat. A lot of sugar, you know,” Taylor said, grabbing two cookies from the box. Angie watched in interest as he inhaled them. His lips were perfect. They were a nice shade of pink, and very pouty. She wanted very badly to taste them. Certainly they were as sweet as they looked. There was something appealing about Taylor’s obvious innocence. There were so many things she could teach him.
“You know what would be good with these?” Angie found herself saying, “Some brandy.” Taylor looked up at her, his mouth still full. He shrugged.
“If you say so,” He mumbled, trying to keep any crumbs from escaping. Angie smiled and ran back to the kitchenette to get the half-empty bottle of brandy. A small voice in the back of her head told her it was wrong to give drinks to a minor, but she ignored it. A few drinks never hurt anyone.