Our Pasts Will Be Our Secrets

June 16, 2008

I thought about how adults used to talk about our sixth grade class. “We never used that kind of obscene language when I was your age!” I imagined what they would say if they saw me now.

A Sedan had pulled up and DeaVanna said, “This one’s yours, Rae. He’s real interested, say he wants anything new. Be thankful I’m giving you the cute one, bitch.”

I got into the car with shaking hands, trying to compress on myself but I stopped when I realized doing that gave my push-up bra a chance to show cleavage.

He’s smart-looking and handsome. I wanted to yell at him to do something better with his life, but who am I to talk? Even though he seemed pretty sane, I got bad vibes from how he was looking at me... Then again, how else would a perverted 30-something look at a fourteen-year-old who’s wearing a holey mini-skirt and a tight tee with lacey black undergarments?

After a few minutes of the staring, it happened. I don’t know what I expected, but not for him to come at me so fast with his hand already where it shouldn’t be. I almost blacked out, right then and there, but that would be more humiliation than having to do this in the first place.

He was on me too fast,on my face, my body, breathing, and I just stared at him. He yelled things at me and everyone else in the Valero lot heard it, probably thinking I’m enjoying this. The crew is laughing.

I just need the money, and I just need to keep myself alive, no matter how skanky and illegal the way, I thought to keep myself from crying. I felt everything but didn’t know how to process it.

When it was finally over, he paid me and offered me a pointer. “Hey, you’re my favorite little ho so far, but next time, don’t just sit there, okay? Try getting into it.”

I got out of the car and glanced around at the other hos, and they smiled at me, pushing out their chest as if they were proud. Their piercings showed right through their shirts.

DeaVanna asked, “How was it? Rough, right? But that don't matter right now. You'll get it eventually." I didn't know what she was talking about. "And, bitch, I need you out here looking good, so give me the cash and go freshen up, okay?"

I went by the window of the building, the best mirror I have, and re-adjusted my shirt and skirt. Every part of me was in pieces, and my movements and thoughts were jerky. When I was done trying to make myself look less…I don't know, less something, I went over to stand by Hailee, a girl I barely knew, but at least she kind of stepped in front of me whenever a car paused to check us out. Whether she was protecting me or advertising herself, I still don't know.

August 27, 2010

I finally knew what DeaVanna meant when she said I would 'get it eventually'.

Every lay I got paid for gets me higher up on the chain, plus more cash. The more cash I get, the less I have to get a lay. Less lays means more time for myself.

It's not so simple though; the money goes fast. I used the cash for food, sometimes these books for the grade I'm supposed to be in.

I wished I could be in school, and I guessed I could somehow get there, but I wasn't sure where to start. I just read the books when nobody was watching and tried to understand them. I still have a feeling that I would be good at history if I was in high school.

We have a regular customer who owns a little clinic thing, so DeaVanna uses that (and her other assets) to get us checked if we want. The clinic is shabby and on the wrong side of town, but it has good technology. The last time I checked, I was basically free of any STDs, or at least the serious ones.

I used to randomly wonder how my old friends were, but I stopped hurting myself like that about the third month in. Every day was more people, more money, just another day. At one period, I was even doing house calls, but I needed to stop. Even DeaVanna could see that.

I'd come back to the Valero completely messed up. Then again, I guess I had the right to be, after everything I'd been through at that point.

Present Day

After I sit up, Aaron (my lay), says, "Here," and hands me a package.

"What the hell! Where’s my money?" I'm scared that it's broad daylight outside, so I'm ducking every time I see a flicker of anything along these tracks. Never know when a random cop will see you. "What the hell is this? A new pair of platforms?"

"No, it's your payment. Some guy came up to me, knew me as a regular at the Valero. He said if I didn't get this to you he would turn me in."

I shake it. It sounds like hard plastic. Aaron starts to drive and I slowly rip off the tape, wondering. "Curious, very curious," I quote. "But how the hell am I supposed to watch this?" I ask, realizing it's a DVD, or maybe a CD.

"That's what libraries are for. Don't get pissed at me. I'm just a delivery boy."

"I still need the money."

"Why? This is the money!" We pull into the gas station.

"Okay, this is how it works: No money means DeaVanna gets mad and takes the DVD. Then, the guy threatening you finds out and you're in deep crap and you can say goodbye to professional football."

He gives me a once-over, sighs, and pulls the money out of his wallet as if it's his last fifty. Ugh. Football players. "Bye." The truth is, Aaron's not a bad guy. Just kind of messed up. I think it's his career, the stress and fame and fortune that comes with it, is going to screw him royally sooner or later.

"Rae!" DeaVanna yells as I step out of the car. "Where were you?"

"Aaron gave me a present," I reply dryly as I give her the money.

"Just cuz you meet a lot of guys doesn't mean you can actually date one," warns Dea, eyeing the box. "What's in it?"

"A DVD, I think. I have to go to the library to watch it, I guess."

I expect her to yell about work, but she must be in a good mood. She kind of purses her lips, and then says, "Fine." I hug her. I don't know why I'm so excited for this DVD, but whatever. I repress my jumpiness. Suddenly, she says, "As long as you tell me what it is."

"Whatever."

"You can walk to the library, unless Aaron wants to take you." I look at Aaron, lazily hanging his arm out of the drive window, a Marlboro dangling from his fingers.

"Get in," he says, as if he's about to give a high-schooler a ride home. I hop into the car. Even if Aaron's mixed up with the wrong crowd (meaning me), he's a good guy. He gives me a once-over. "You're really going to the library looking like that?" He turns sharply away from Guiana Street, where the library is, and goes down Main. "You can watch it at home."

"Umm, no." This has happened before. I went to Aaron's house one time, and that was the end of it. No more house calls.

"Umm, yes." He pulls into his driveway and turns to glare at me. "Come in."

I get out tentatively, only because I have no choice. What else could I do? Sit in the car and act like a five-year-old? Threaten to hold my breath if he doesn't take me to the library?

I watch as Aaron unlocks the door to his house, ducking my head when a car passes. How many people would know who I was and what I do for a living? I dash in through the door when he finally opens it and almost smack into a Hispanic woman. I admit it, my knees buckle a little, and I grab the edge of the table to keep from falling down.

"Aaron? Who is this?" says the woman very quickly, with an accent somewhere between Bostonian and Chilean.

"Nobody."

"I have to pee," I blurt as I regain my posture and walk to the closest closed door. Luckily, it is a bathroom. I splash water on my face and the crappy make-up I have on runs. I hear the little woman talking to Aaron.

"Is this another one of your amiguitas, Aaron? Why is she such a jumpy little stick?" I take that to mean I'm skinny.

"No, she's my team-mate's daughter's friend." I hear the lady ask which teammate, and he begins to tell some big long story. The woman keeps interrupting with an argument, saying I'm too close to his age, stating how strung out I look, basically telling him he needs to lay off the hos.

Meanwhile, I'm hyperventilating. Just the sensation of being inside a house again freaks me out, and so does the feeling of being trapped.

Every time I get inside a car, I have to push back this weird fear I have of being in an enclosed space, but for some reason, I just can't deal right now. I'm probably having one of those days, and I rub my eyes. Aaron and the lady finally shut up, and someone is shuffling around outside the door.

"Rae, you alright? I can't have you dead in there, you know." He pushes the door open, looking down.

"Why are you looking down?" I ask. "Its not like you haven't seen anything I have before." He shrugs and sees me against the bathtub. For a minute, I see real concern.

"Hey," he says, pulling me up by the elbow. "Let's go see that DVD, okay?"

I take my arm back. I'm still twitchy, my eyes restlessly flicking to the door. I guess my hyper side comes out when I'm freaked. I feel high or something.

This house reminds me of mine. I don't let myself go any farther with that thought. No more waterworks.

I notice Aaron is putting in the DVD, and I sit on the couch and stare at his sixty-inch plasma. It hums to life, and Aaron sits close to me. I'm about to scoot away, but then, I do exactly the opposite.

I get right next to Aaron, and his tanned skin reminds me of what I should be doing, instead of living on the streets. I should be dating, and going to parties, doing projects at the last second and getting together with friends just to go to Wal-Mart.

Maybe if my life was normal, I'd be here watching a movie with Aaron instead of having to see a random DVD. He'd be boyfriend material, minus the prostitution, but I'm sure someone will break him of that.

Right now, I relax and lay my blonde and purple head on his swimmers shoulder, and he puts his arm around me. I think he knows why I'm doing this. However stupid it may sound, everybody needs an anchor when their past is threatening to drag them under. Aaron's mine for now.

Suddenly, all my thoughts are scattered. It is a DVD, and it shows a stark, authoritative, and almost scary man sitting at a professional looking desk. His back is perfectly straight, and he begins to speak to me. "Hello. I'm Fredrick Mason. You, Raine Jorgan, have been selected to come to a newly discovered island and stay at our hotel for one week by yourself. We really would be honored to serve you and cater to your needs. On this disk you will find a printable brochure and information to contact us if you would like to come. Thank you."

My jaw drops open, and I look at Aaron. He hands his cell phone to me wordlessly as I dial the number that the guy on the DVD says.