Getting Out.

I had Stacey shave my head when I turned 16. Each blond curl fell to the floor with the innocence I wanted to destroy. The next day, I had David down at the local tattoo shop pierce my tongue. I guess at the time, a solid silver ball in your mouth was cool. I remember my mom screaming at me, following me throughout each room of our house. She asked me if the sole reason I did it was to impress guys but she never really understood.
“Its cause she wants to give good head, god mom!” My brother cried sarcastically as I slammed my bedroom door in his face. None of them could comprehend why I wanted these changes. I just wanted to rid myself of the Sydney I once knew; the Sydney with long, luscious hair and a smile to match.
The purple Mia Wallace-esque wig became my signature all through out high school, of course, I was made fun of but the torture never compared o the one I felt my whole childhood. I was strong, maybe too strong for my own good at the time. I did what I wanted and didn’t let anyone hinder me.
“Sydney doesn’t take any shit,” Stacey smirked. Her hand was gripped tightly around mine as a tattoo needle dragged through my skin. I pushed the bangs away from my face and nodded, “Needles don’t fucking phase me,” I cussed like a sailor, I thought it made me look a lot harder than I was. He wiped off the excess ink and taped up my side.
That night Stacey’s boyfriend was playing a show at a local bar. His band was pretty big at the time around Lake Elsinore. They were a local favorite with all the kids we hung out with and everyone was going to be there. We sat in my room, a dark shade of purple surrounded us and the soft voice of Thom York was bellowing in the background. My side ached and I had to grit my teeth just to stop the pain. I guess what everyone said was right; getting your ribs done does hurt the worst.
“I am so excited to see Jason tonight, he’s gonna look so sexy in the outfit I picked out for him.” Stacey licked her lips at the thought and brushed a thick line of eyeliner over her lid. I cringed as I pulled a shirt over my head and allowed her to apply layers of red lipstick on my lips. “You don’t look sexy enough,” She sucked in her breath and took a step back to analyze me. “Here,” She pulled out a pair of orange scissors from my desk and began cutting at the hem of my shirt.
“Damn it Stacey,” I growled, “This is a new fucking shirt.” Through thick black lashes, she looked up at me and smirked before ripping the shirt just above my belly button.
“Gotta show off the new tatt,” Stacey slipped on a pair of red high tops and took a swig of the 40 ounce we were sharing.
Kids spilled out from the bar that was only a few blocks from my childhood home. The pungent smell of weed filled my senses with full force and a thick layer of fog danced around the street. The bar inside was smoky and old Minor Threat was pounding throughout the speakers.
“Jason!” Stacey grabbed my hand and pushed through the hoards of people as she spotted her boyfriend. Kids all around us were wearing clothes they probably found at thrift shops that they redecorated with safety pins and patches. It was a sea of black and ridiculous hair colors.
Jason was leaning against the bar, a beer in his hand. He was wearing black dickies and a plain white T shirt. He had on black converse and his hair was liberty spiked in all different directions. He wrapped his hand around the back of Stacey’s neck and pulled her into rough kiss. He wrapped her body within his, pushing her back against his chest and waved at me.
“Hey Syd.” Jason smiled drunkenly.
Later that night, Jason’s band, The Sea Hags, preformed. I stood against the stage with Stacey, a handle of vodka in my hand. We were pressed against the wood as boys and girls jumped on us, sang along, and circled in pits. The bar was dark and its moody red lights off set the whole atmosphere and let The Sea Hags set seem even cooler than it already was.
Even over the raspy vocals of Stacey’s boyfriend, I could hear the sound of glass shattering and a shrill high pitch squeal. Before I knew it, a fight broke out. In my drunken state, everything seemed to move slower than it was. I watched Bryan, the bass played in The Sea Hags, jump off stage and smash his instrument into the back of someone’s head. Jason threw an empty beer bottle into the crowd, jumped from the stage, and began throwing fists. Everyone in that damn bar was brawling but I just watched in horror. Stacey was gone from my side. I panicked, pushing through fights and drunken kids yelling until I saw her. She was trying to pull two large males off of Jason. She grabbed one of their arms as he took a swing at Jason, he looked back and elbowed her right in the mouth. I think I lost it. I ran full speed, jumping over Stacey’s almost unconscious body and latched myself onto this mans back. I squeezed my arms tight around his neck, cutting off his oxygen supply. “You piece of shit, don’t touch my best friends!” I was screaming. I could hear the police sirens faintly in the background.
“Get off of me, you whore!” He choked. Suddenly, he knelt down low and jerked his body so I flipped right over his head and onto the floor. The wind was knocked out of me but I still managed to kick him fiercely in the groin. A growl ripped from his lips and I could see the pure rage behind his eyes. He picked me up by the collar of my shirt and wound his arm back to hit. I closed my eyes tightly and held my breath but nothing met my face. Before I knew it, I was on the floor. He was tall and thin, his hair was shaggy and black, and he was wearing dickies and a newly ripped Metallica shirt covered by a flannel. This stranger had the guy on the floor, his fists pound into his face repeatedly. The doors busted open and a group of riot police came marching in. The black haired boy looked up at me, he peeled himself off of the now unconscious man, and grabbed my hand. I could smell the pepper spray already and my eyes began to water profusely.
I stumbled behind him, trying to keep my vision stable and balance too. “Here,” He whispered as we rounded a corner to my old elementary school. He halted suddenly and pressed his hands against his knees to catch his breath.
“You okay?” I breathed and knelt down beside him, accessing his face. His lip was bloody.
“Are you serious?” He laughed, finally letting his eyes leave the ground and fall on mine. His hands touched my ripped shirt, it was wet with spilled beer and dirty from my time on the floor. “Here,” he noticed the goose bumps dancing down my arms and took off his flannel. His nose was busted, not from the fight but an old wound. Clearly, it was broken before and his eye was slightly puffy, still purple and healing from sometime ago. “I should be asking you that. Are you okay? You hit the floor pretty damn hard.”
“I’m fine, really.” I smiled. “What’s your name?” I fixed my wig and pulled the flannel tighter around me as a wind chill gusted in.
“Matt.”
His green eyes flickered with amusement as he brushed the bangs away from my face. “Syd Vicious.” He smirked.
For a second, I didn’t understand what he was saying but then I absorbed it.
“Holy fuck,” I breathed and took in the sight of him.
“I think I have a habit of fighting for you.” He joked.
Matt Saenz was a distant memory. He was my elementary crush you could say. He arrived in third grade and we had an instant friendship. Every day he would walk me home, past the old junk yard with the vicious dog, and through the old abandoned house that eventually became our sanctuary. I remember the night my dad died in sixth grade. I skipped school and met him in that abandoned house. He had two bottles of coke, some chips, and a sleep bag. We talked the whole night, falling asleep until my older brother came running in, screaming at us that mom was gonna call the police. She got so paranoid after dad died.
After he died, I was became the outcast. “That’s the girl who’s dad offed himself.” I remember hearing whispers in the hallways. “He probably killed himself cause she’s so fucking weird.”
I hated my dad for ending his life that way. I hated him for everything he left my mom and brother and me with. I never took his feelings into account. I was so selfish because I was labeled a freak and he could just leave forever because he was “sad.”
Matt was always sticking up for me; his eyes were always black and blue because of me.
You need to stay away from that Matt kid,” My mom said to me over dinner one night. “He’s a lost soul and comes from a bad family. I don’t want him influencing you.” Like I said, she got paranoid after dad died. I never listened to her, I met him in that abandoned house every single night that summer going into junior high. However, one day, A few days before school started, I went to meet Matt at the house. He wasn’t there, he was always waiting for me. I checked the rooms and then I went up the rotten wooden stairs because maybe, he was playing a trick on me. He wasn’t. He didn’t show up that night. He didn’t show up the next night. He didn’t show up the first day of school and I had no idea where he went. It broke my eleven year old heart.
“Jesus,” I whispered and touched his face softly.
“Where did you go?” I could feel the anger boiling inside of me. He had abandoned me. He was my best friend, my only friend, and he left me to fend for myself during the most miserable years of my life. We were eighteen now and I was about to venture off into the unknown world of college. Before Matt could even open his mouth to speak, a black Honda Civic rolled up and Stacey was hanging out the back window.
“Sydney!” She screamed, “Get it, come on!” The car was still moving down the street slowly. I looked at Matt, his face was hard and his lips were sealed shut. I kissed his cheek and took off toward the car, completely forgetting to give him back his flannel. I watched through the back seat window, his eyes following the car as it sped off around a corner. I waved but I knew he wouldn’t see it.

***************************

“I can’t believe I ever shaved your head, what the hell was I thinking?” Stacey laughed. Her long fingers scrubbed my hair with shampoo. Stacey’s once short pixie cut brown hair was now shoulder length and pulled back into a messy bun. Her full sleeve tattoos were hidden behind a long sleeve black maternity dress. She was six months pregnant with Jason’s baby. Six years later, one kid and a second on the way, her wild side was behind her. I watched as Stacey worked with the scissors and small locks of my bond hair fell to the floor. A trim was all I was getting, not a complete shave. I looked down at the shiny wedding ring on my finger and sighed.
One year after high school, Stacey got pregnant in beauty school and Jason jumped to put a ring on it. I never pegged her as a mom, she always dreamed of moving to New York. She had the grades for NYU and she wanted to become a singer. I guess that’s why she clung so tightly to Jason in high school. She thought he would make it big but when he got a job working for his Uncle’s auto shop and the band broke up, things went downhill. Stacey finished up school before the baby and Jason bought a three bedroom home in Perris.
I, on the other hand, made it a point to get out of where I grew up. I had never left town before so when I landed an academic scholarship to Cal State Fullerton, I jumped at the bit. I graduated with a Bachelors in English and once again found myself back home. I told myself I would move back to Orange County or maybe even Los Angeles and that’s exactly what I want to do. I had found my apartment, a small cheap apartment in Echo Park and I was furniture shopping mostly at goodwill. I was scanning the couches, trying to find one with the least stains on it when someone came up behind me.
“I left because I had too.” I didn’t recognize him at first. His structured jaw was shaded with a scruffy beard and his eye was painted black.
Although, those green eyes, I would remember anywhere. Matt Saenz.
“What do you mean?” I uncontrollably smiled at him.
“How ‘bout we get a drink and I tell you.” He breathed. “I almost didn’t recognize you without that purple wig.” His body had grown bigger, he was built and his arms were beyond defined. The plain black T shirt he was wearing seemed to almost constrict his broad shoulder and his dark jeans hung dangerously low against his hips. He was thin back then, but my punk self wouldn’t have cared to admire his body anyways.
“I almost didn’t recognize you with the beard.” I shot back and smirked. He let a low chuckle escape his full lips and took a seat on the couch I was interested in. I guess I was more interested in him than the couch then. His black hair was gentlemen’s parted and he brushed a smooth hand through it.
“So how about that drink?”
Hours later we were tipsy at some hipster bar in Silverlake, his hand was on my thigh and we couldn’t stop laughing but as the night flew by and our buzz began to wear off, things got serious.
“So why did you leave?” I playfully pushed my shoulder into him as we walked past crowded restaurants.
“My mom was pretty fucked up,” He started. I could feel his body tense a little, like he had never spoken of this before. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe he just felt obligated to tell me. “She was doing pretty well for awhile when I was little but in sixth grade she started using again. I guess the federal government thought she was unfit to be a mother when they found out I was forced to buy drugs for her.” He paused, I felt large calloused hand slip into mine. “They didn’t give me time to say goodbye to you before they shipped me off into my foster home,” He looked me dead in the eyes and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. We were a block away from my apartment. “I wanted to say goodbye so badly. You were my best friend and I felt like I let you down and that night at the school, when you asked me why, holy shit man.” He breathed. “I could see in your eyes how badly I hurt you. Even after all those years, I hated myself because that look you gave me, I made that happen.” I stopped immediately.
“Matt,” I whispered and pulled his massive body into mine. “I wasn’t disappointed in you, shit happens. I just needed my friend and I hated you for leaving. I hated you like I hated my dad,” I could see his face twist in agony. “But I know the truth and years have passed, its all ancient history now. Past doesn’t matter, future does.” I smirked. “Now, I’m going to invite you in and I’ll really be disappointed if you say no.”
I watched a smirk spread across his lips and his grip around my hand tightened.

***********************************

The morning breeze crept in through the windowsill, leaving my body warm beneath the blankets but my arms surrendered to the cold. I looked beside me at the monstrous outlines along his defined back. His muscles clenched and tightened with every breath and a large purple bruise laid over the small script tattoo on his ribcage. I reached out and traced my fingers across the words “self reliance.” He stirred and let a groan escape his lips. “’morning.” His voice was hoarse with slumber. He was always the sexiest when he woke up, his sleepiness made him vulnerable and that was a rare moment for a man like Matt Saenz. I let my hand trace up his side and stroked my fingers through his ruffled black hair. “Hello beautiful,” He rolled onto his elbow to face me, a soft smile on his lips.
“Hi handsome,” I kissed him delicately and laid my body on top of his. Instinctively, he wrapped his calloused hands around my hips and breathed me in. He did that every morning, it was almost like he needed my scent to get his day started; he needed me. “Coach is going to kick your ass today if you’re late.” I smiled into his warm skin and trailed kisses from the base of his neck to his ear lobe.
“If you keep doing that, I may just skip training in general.” He pressed his hands against my shoulders and rolled so he was hovering above me. “Don’t tempt me,” He almost growled.
“You’ll get me later,” I smirked and allowed my teeth to latch onto his bottom lip. I was careful though, it was still split from a fight two weeks ago. He pulled back and took in the position we were in. His gaze met mine with intensity, an intensity that was only for me. Never once in my life had I seen him stare at someone else like that, not even in a fight when his primal side overwhelmed him.
I watched as Jason pulled on a plain gray hoodie. He slipped on black sweatpants over his compression shorts and bounced on his feet to the kitchen. I threw on an old shirt of Matt’s and followed him. He downed a whole water bottle, a spoonful of peanut butter, and grabbed a shaker cup from the cabinet. “I got work after,” His back was to me. I longed to touch him, to let my fingertips work across every single inch of his body but I knew I couldn’t. Distractions were a huge obstacle in the line of work Matt desired to be in. Family, friends, a social life in general were all considered to be one but he still marched on with me by his side. I guess it could be worse. I guess he could have fallen in love with someone who wasn’t as supportive of his need to fight as I was. When we first moved in together, in my shitty apartment in Echo Park, I was at the gym with him everyday. When he was fired from his jobs because perception was key and a busted up face didn’t make the company look well, I was by his side. When we had to move back to Lake Elsinore because we couldn’t make rent and ended up sleeping in Jason and Stacey’s living room, I still supported him.
I took a seat on one of our barstools and touched the tips of my newly trimmed hair, my wedding ring twinkling in the morning light. “Want me to pick you up from the gym?” He nodded as he laced up his tennis shoes and stretched out his legs. He always ran to the gym even though it was five miles away. Matt was about to walk out the door when he stopped in the hallways and turned to me.
“I love you so much Sydney.” He grabbed my hand, it looks so small and fragile compared to his. “I love you like crazy, you know that and I promise you, we will get out of here one day.” His lips grazed my knuckles then he dropped them, passionately kissing my lips.
He did this to reassure me, like if he didn’t, I would pack up and leave while he was gone. It was his biggest insecurity. The man had an ego the size of a football field when it came to fighting but with me, things were different. He was so scared to lose me. I watched him jog down the street, slowly disappearing into the morning fog.
I pulled my hair back into a bun and poured myself coffee. Yawning, I made my way into the bedroom and slipped a black and white polka dot dress over my head and jumped into some red flats. I grabbed my gym bag from the counter and locked up the house.
Our house was small with a long wooden porch wrapped around the front. Visualizing that, it seems like a dream but it wasn’t even close. White trim danced along chipping yellow paint on wood panels and a crumbling brick chimney sat dramatically on the roof. A chain link around the browning grass acted as a substitute for the white picket fence. And our old pick up truck lay dormant on the cracked asphalt road. This wasn’t what I had wanted in life. I wanted a craftsman home in South Pasadena. I wanted an enormous bay window in the back, so I could watch our three children play in the yard while I wrote. I wanted anything but this. In life, I guess, and in love, you have to make sacrifices and I was madly in love with Matt Saenz.
The pick up truck roared to life as I turned the key in the ignition and I made my way down the road to Downtown Perris. For a Saturday morning, it was awfully quiet; then again, it was always awfully quiet. Parking, I shuffled tiredly into the double doors of the public library. This is where I had ended up, a Librarian getting paid minimum wage; like I said, in life we make sacrifices for love. I wasn’t going in for work today though; I quickly found my way into the travel section and planted myself on the floor. Photo books of Paris, Brazil, Greece, and more lay around me. I loved to get lost in them, dreaming of laying on the black sands of Hawaii or climbing mountains in Peru. I picked up a book and nuzzled my nose in between the pages; that smell, it was the smell of adventure. Today, I was exploring Australia. Before I knew it, two hours had passed and I had read through stacks of books. I hurried into the restroom, with my gym bag in hand and changed. I had other errands I was supposed to get too, I just got too caught up, I always do.
I slipped on yoga pants and some running shoes and hustled back to my car. That old truck was staring me in the face like an ugly bruise. I hated that damn truck.
Living in LA, I had my silver Honda Civic. It wasn’t new but it sure as hell was newer than that truck. I had books in the back seat in case of emergencies and had the best CD’s in the stereo. That car was me, it was quaint and reliable and that best investment I had made when I moved out on my own. I had to sell it though, when Matt lost his fifth job out in LA and we had to make rent for the next month. I remember thinking it was so silly to cry over something so materialistic but looking back, I wasn’t just crying about the car. Matt promised me that when he made it, he would buy a new one, as pretty and silver as the last. Sometimes I wondered if he would ever make good on his promise.
Matt didn’t train at a regular gym. He didn’t want to have to drive into Lake Elsinore and he definitely didn’t want a bullshit coach. Davis used to box back in the day. He had a couple championship belts on his wall and a framed photo of his hand being raised at Madison Square Garden. On his property was an old barn, the panels rusting and massive holes lay in the roof. When it rained, they still trained even with water pouring in and slicking the floor.
I parked the car by Davis’ garage and jogged down the dirt road to the barn. I could see him in the distance. His hood was up and he swung a sledgehammer fiercely against a tractor tire. Davis was leaning against the rusted wall, chewing gum, when his eyes met hers with a smile. I watched intently though, the way Matt lifted the hammer with a deep grunt and slammed it back down. No matter how much I had to give up, it was moments like that where I knew every thing was worth it. His muscles bulged through the sleeves on his jacket and his back was stained with sweat. My breath hitched in my throat as he let a primal roar rip from his lips. He threw down the sledgehammer and bounced on his heels. He threw his arms out in front of him, shadow boxing and bobbing. He turned to me instantly. His blue eyes sparkled beneath a layer of thick black lashes. I wiped a bead of sweat from my forehead and took a breath. Together for years and still this man had a way of turning me on like no other. Every single day, whether it be a smile coming my way or tender words whispered in my ear, I fell in love with him over again.
A smirk spread across his lips and he ran his tongue hungrily over his lips. The pre work out was pumping through his veins and I knew he was craving me more than ever. I watched as Davis grabbed the battle ropes and took them inside the barn with a wink burning in my brain.
Matt gripped his hands around my waist and let his fingers dig into my skin. “Hey Beautiful.” He moaned into my neck and pushed me back with a force that had us both stumbling against the metal panels of the barn. His lips trailed warm kisses up my collarbone and his breath sent goose bumps rushing up my skin.
“Mattie,” I breathed and let my lips fall onto his. His beard was in full force this season. He always grew it out before fights and it was starting to become his local signature. Matt had a bout the next day and he wasn’t too sure if he was ready for it. He lost his last fight due to an unfair and completely controversial decision and that one shook him up a bit. Not only because of the call, but because that was two grand he could have easily had in his pocket. This fight had a prize of twenty five hundred with a five hundred win bonus. It was the most money he would win in his amateur, underground fights. It was Battle of the Ballroom over in Santa Ana and I was more excited than he was to go.
“I missed you,” He whispered into my ear and let his hands slip under my shirt. They were calloused and rough from swing the sledgehammer but that was exactly the way I liked them. It gave him character; it showed that he was strong and proud. Strength is what made Matt Saenz beautiful to me. He held up both of us, no matter how dark or hard things got, he always remained a secure, sane place to rest my head.
“I missed you more,” I kissed him a bit harder and grasped his hand in mine. I turned his palm over and kissed it then made my way to each fingertip, just barely letting my lips graze him.
“I love when you do that,” He breathed me in and took a step back.
“Okay love birds, “ Davis yelled from the barn doors. “I need my fighter back.”

Matt sat next to me in the pick up truck. I don’t know how that boy did it. He trained for three hours straight then still put on his jumpsuit and went to work. Matt worked as a mechanic at the same auto shop as Jason. Matter of fact, when Matt and I were living on Jason and Stacey’s couch, he got Matt the job. That’s how we were able to afford our own home, not to mention a little help from my successful graphic artist older brother. He had his hand on my thigh and my hand was wrapped behind his sweaty neck, allowing my fingers to play with the tips on his hair. His blue jump suit was only pulled up to his waist and the rough ridges of his abdomen were glistening with sweat. I licked my lips at the sight. He was perfection in a male; from his pearly white teeth to his full brown beard. He didn’t have flaws to me.
I halted the truck in front of the shop and handed him the keys. “I love you Sydney Saenz.” He kissed me gently, before zipping up his uniform and hiding that sexy body beneath rags.
“I love you more Matthew Saenz,” I rubbed my thumb across his cheek and smiled. “Now, get home early so I can keep you up a bit later before your fight.” I winked and bent down to tie my running shoes tighter. I pulled my hair into a messy bun and took off back to that old wooden house with the chipping yellow paint.