Denying Your Deliverance.

I was never good at being quiet, I was especially not good at being quiet and trying to be sneaky. But I was definitely improving.

I was wriggling out of the arms of a man who’s name I couldn’t remember. Once I was free, as routine, I gathered my clothing, and dressed myself. I then found his wrinkled pants, pulling the wallet out of the back pocket, taking all of the money that he had. I looked past my shoulder, taking one last glance at this man, then walked out of his small apartment.

The cool L.A. air broke across my skin as I exited the building, I stood on the side of the street trying to wave a cab down. After a few minutes of waving, a yellow car stopped in front of me. I fell into the backseat, telling the driver the address I wanted to go.

Ten minutes later, I was standing on the front stoop of my ‘friend’ Jonathan’s house.. He came to the door, wearing only boxers. “Yeah?” He asked.

“I’m staying here tonight.” I told him.

“No, Rachel, you’re not staying here. Not again.” I just looked at him, of course I was staying there. I knew exactly how to change his mind too.

“But Johnny, please. I don’t have any where to go. I need to stay here.” I said, rubbing my hands over his chest. He opened his mouth, trying to tell me ‘no’ again. I pressed my lips to his, not letting him able to say anything. Before long, I was in his bed, pinned beneath his body. Just like that, I had a place to stay for the night.

I didn’t have a home. I had many. I stayed with anybody who was in a few minutes away. Jonathan’s was usually the place I went. I had known him for a few years, he was the first person I met when I moved from Illinois, to California. He and I had always had a strange relationship. The kind where we had to act like we didn’t care about each other. The truth was, I’d always liked him, but our relationship was based on the physical things, not emotional. Plus, he had a girlfriend. A fiancé, actually. They were ‘high school sweethearts’ and he promised her that he’d marry her. He wont admit it, but I’m pretty sure he was just using her for her family’s money now. I think he used to love her and wanted to be with her at one point, but now, it was clear that he wasn’t interested in her. There was no chemistry. For a little bit there, I’d tried to get him to break up with her, to be with me. But then reality hit me, and I knew I was stupid for wanting that. So now we’re just ‘bed buddies’. That’s all I needed. Lucky for me, they didn’t live together.

Each and every morning that we woke up next to each other he’d tell me. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m with Lizzy, not you. I love her.”

That was the first thing I heard when I woke up. “Johnny,” I murmured, running my fingers through his hair. “She’s not going to find out. Believe me, it’s been year’s. We haven’t been caught yet. Trust me. You’re fine.” I said, kissing his ear.

“Rachel, seriously. Leave, please. She’s on her way over.”

“So? It’s not like you like her anyways. Just let her find me and you in bed together. That’s a good enough goodbye. I promise.”

Again, he tried to refuse my request, but was stopped by my lips being connected to his. He began to climb on top of me but stopped when he heard a knock on the door. “Shit! Rachel I told you! Get the hell out! She’s here.”

“No, no. John, calm down. It’s okay. Just don’t answer the door.” I said, kissing his chest in an attempt to calm him down.
“She’s got a key. Get out. Now.” He just looked at me, as I lay in his bed, staring up at him.

“Fine.” I said. I got out of his bed, acting like I was going to put my clothes on and get out of his house, but I sat down in his lap instead. “Please, I don’t have a place to go. Just let me stay. I promise. I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”

“Honestly, I wish you could, but you can’t…Just-just come back later. I promise. Then we’ll pick up where we left off. Okay?” He said.

“Okay.”

“Now, go.” I stood up slowly, teasing him with my body. He smirked, “Get your clothes on slut.” I laughed, as he slapped my butt. I put my clothes on, standing in front of the door so he couldn’t leave yet. “You’ve seriously got to go. She’s standing outside the door, I think she’s getting the keys out.”

I bit my lip, “One last kiss, then I’m out. But a good kiss, a good long one.” He laughed a little, pressing his lips to my mouth, then took them to neck, trailing along my shirt collar, all across my chest. He put his hands on my hips, digging his fingers in my skin. I felt him pull me aside, still kissing me.

He pulled away, “Go through the window, use the fire escape.” I walked to the window, opening it, and quickly made my escape.

“I’ll be back tonight.” I said, before running down the steps. He winked at me, and went to his front door, meeting his little girlfriend.

As I walked down the street I laughed at the situation that had just happened. She was there, while I was there. Poor thing, it would have broke her heart, and that wouldn’t be good. Plus, forbidden sex is the best. If they weren’t together, there wouldn’t be a risk.

I walked slowly through the crowds of people that the street contained. I noticed their disgusted looks towards me. I looked in one of the store windows at my appearance, I was dirty and grungy. I didn’t look like myself. My dress was too big, it hung on my boney body. My face was stained with make-up, and was sunk in. My hair was so greasy and nappy, it would be impossible to get a brush through it. It had been a few days since I had a shower, I didn’t really have access to one. Sure, I could use the one’s of the people’s houses I stayed at, but it just didn’t feel right.

I didn’t feel like myself, and I sure as hell didn’t look like myself. Or the old me, shall I say. When I lived in Chicago, I was clean. I was pure, but I was over protected. My dad was a lawyer and was obsessed with giving me a good life, and I hated it. So, when ever I got the chance, I left Chicago, coming here to Los Angeles. Where on the streets I was known as Jacquelin. But the streets was the only place I was, so I was Jacquelin in L.A. The only person who knew that my real name was John. He was the only person who knew I was Rachel McClure, not Jacquelin Monroe.

I walked away from the window, walking away from the image of Jacquelin Monroe. I kept my head down as I walked through the crowds, strangely, I was self-conscious about my appearance. So self-conscious that I didn’t see the person who was right in front of me. “Sorry.” He said.

“No, problem babe.” I said.

He looked up from the phone in his hand, to look at me. His first reaction was to just walk away, there wasn’t anything else needed to be said, but he continued to look at me. I continued to walk, north of his direction. “Rachel?” I heard. The word: Ironic flashed through my head, seeing as I was just saying John was the only one who knew my name. Plus, I didn’t even know this man. I turned around to look at him. “No, babe. I’m Jacquelin.” I said in my fake New York accent.

“Sorry, sorry. You just…You just look like someone I used to know.”

“Yeah? Who’s that, hon?”

“Um, her name was Rachel McClure. You kind of reminded me of her. I’m sorry.” I stared at him, trying to think of who he was, and how I knew him.

“Who are you?” I asked him. By this time he’d turned around, walking the other way.

He stopped, and turned back around. “Pete Wentz.” Reality smacked me across my face, Pete Wentz, of course I knew who he was. We were best friends, and lovers back in Chicago. I studied his face, realizing it was him. I wasn’t dreaming. “Peter Panda.” I whispered, the nick name I’d grown up calling him.

“I knew it was you.” He said. “You look so…”

“Different?” I asked him.

“Yes, what happened to you?”

“Life.” I told him, smiling.

He just looked at me, astounded that I was actually standing in front of him, looking the way I do. He took a deep breath in. He took his arm up, pushing his sleeve back, looking at his watch. “You want to grab a bite to eat?”

“I-” I cleared my throat, half way embarrassed what I was about to say, “I don’t have any money.”

“My treat, you know that.” I didn’t want to except his invitation, but I couldn’t reject him. I nodded, following him across the street to a small diner.