How to Grow an Addict by J. A. Wright

Author:J. A. Wright [Wright, J. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: She Writes Press
Published: 2015-06-15T04:00:00+00:00

In the morning, I told Aunt Flo and Sissy that Mom had phoned the night before. “They had a good time at the car convention, and Mom wants me to come home to help paint the fence,” I said.

“I didn’t hear the phone ring,” said Aunt Flo.

“The cards never lie,” Sissy whispered, just loud enough for me to hear.

Aunt Flo said if I hurried and got the fence painted she’d drive in to collect me for their big Fourth of July party. She’d invited just about everyone in the neighborhood and was sparing no expense on the party. She’d even booked the same band that played at their wedding. I promised to do my best, but I knew I wasn’t ever coming back.

I phoned my Mom and told her I was coming home. “Can you pick me up at the bus station?” I asked. “I think it gets in at 3 p.m.”

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No, I’m just kind of homesick, and I miss Rascal,” I replied.

“Rascal and I were talking about you last night, and I think she’ll be happy to hear you’re on your way home. Me too,” Mom said.

Tyler had to drive me to the bus station because Sissy only had a learner’s permit and Aunt Flo had a hair appointment. No one mentioned anything about Arnold driving me, which was a relief. As we pulled out of the driveway, Tyler said, “Hey, about last night. I was going to fuck you but I’m glad I didn’t. Arnold says you’re nothing but trouble.”

“No, I’m not. I would’ve let you if you’d asked,” I said.

“Is that right? How about now then?” he said.

“Now? Sure, okay. Where would we do it?” I replied before I had a chance to think about what I was agreeing to.

“I know a place, a dead-end road no one else knows about. But are you sure? You’re not gonna chicken out, are ya? You’re not gonna scream rape or do something stupid like tell me to pull out? It’s not a trick, right?” he said.

“No, no trick,” I said.

I felt sick to my stomach right away and wanted to back out of having sex with Tyler, but I felt obligated to go through with it. I wished I’d just kept my mouth shut.

We parked at the end of the dead-end road and got our pants off. I really didn’t like the way he kissed me. And the sex hurt so much I couldn’t help but cry. When Tyler finally stopped moving his body into mine I thought he’d get off me, but he didn’t move or do anything for the longest time, and I didn’t say anything— even though he was heavy and I felt squashed—because I thought it might be part of the sex thing. Like when dogs got stuck together. So I just breathed lighter and tried not to cry too hard.

I was just about to start wiggling out from underneath him when he lifted himself up on his hands, kissed me, and then picked up my hand and put it on his wiener, which felt hard and rubbery.

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