Flea Bite

Ever since I was little, the dark has terrified me. Maybe it isn't actually the dark that scares me, but the fact I cannot see what surrounds me, I can't see the lurking possibilities. But as I tap my pointer and middle finger on the fabric of my jeans that lay over my thigh and walk to the small diner called Morton's, I am not scared.

The lights inside are all too bright and I sit in a booth, hands trembling in my lap. A woman with a weak, tired smile walks over to me. Her baby hairs stick to her forehead and her eyes look like they're about to snap shut at any given second. I look at the clock on the grimy wall, the time is nearing two am and I can feel my stomach clench. Why did I agree to come here?

"How may I help you?" Her speech has a twang to it, and for some reason it puts me to ease. I give her another small smile, palms sweaty. I ask for a coffee, ignoring the fact I haven't ate in hours. I don't want to risk food between my teeth or bad breath.

Five minutes tick by when a small, broad frame pushes the diner's door open. He stands there for a moment, looking around at the near empty diner. His pretty eyes land on me and my stomach does summersaults, butterflies erupting as he comes closer, sliding into the seat across from me.

The woman brings me my coffee, apologizing for the time it took. I pull the glass towards me, wrapping my hands around it and enjoying the warmth. Frank looks at me and graces me with his million dollar smile.

"Y-you wanted to meet?" My words come out a stuttered mess, causing me to blush. Frank just grins at me, nodding his head.

"Yeah," he murmurs, pulling the coffee from my hands and taking a drink of it. "You looked really pretty today, I wanted to tell you." His words are flattering and I shift in my seat, a feeble attempt to subdue my riveting anxiety.

"At two in the morning?" Before I can stop myself, the question spills out. He shifts in his seat now. "You could have just told me in school, you know." It comes out more matter of fact than I intended.

He looks irritated. "You know I can't do that, Rowan. You're my girl and all but you ain't my type to be seen around with." His words sting, and by the way he looks at me I'm sure he's aware.

"Yeah," I mumble, suddenly no longer wanting to be here. Frank sighs, moving his hand across the milky colored table to reach for mine.

"You're a pretty girl," he tells me. His eyes shift down to my breast. "A sexy girl. But I have my reputation to uphold, sweets. You gotta respect that." My stomach feels queasy as I listen to him.

"I. . . I know, and I try. But it hurts, Frank. Seeing you with those girls. Seeing you with Venus. What's so good about Venus compared to me? Is is because her dad is rich? Because her breast are large? Her hair is like a sandy mop and she has the ugliest laugh." By the time I'm done rambling my words are shaky and I can feel tears brimming my eyes.

Frank, again, looks irritated. "Venus is a good girl, stop being so shitty towards her. And unlike you, she isn't a prude, Rowan. She actually puts the fuck out." My heart drops and yet I feel myself getting even more upset.

"I do everything you want, Frank." A tear slips past and I wipe it away in a frustrated blur. "You were my first kiss, I even got my damn nipples pierced for you." My hand snaps away from his and balls into a fist.

"I do everything for you, I meet you at a diner no one has ever heard of in the shittiest part of Belleville, I hear you justify loving all over Venus, I allow you to hurt me. You're supposed to like me Frank, why are you treating me like this?" I'm crying, breathing rapid and nose a snotty, disgusting mess. His cool exterior is not touched.

"I'm sorry, Row." He shrugs his shoulders at me and pulls some change out of his wallet. "That should cover the coffee and a cab for you to get home. Be safe." He gets up and leaves, and with the lack of his company comes a stabbing sensation in my chest.

I wait an hour, not wanting to somehow bump into him somehow. When I get home, my mom is still sound asleep and my dad is no where to be found. I make my way to my room, collapsing on my bed crying, not stopping until I fall into a much needed sleep.