Dirty: The Complete Series (Secret Baby Romance Love Story) (190 page)

“He’s not like us, Summer.”

“Why does that have to be a bad thing?”

“When has a housie ever really wanted to
know you? In the five years you’ve been on the streets, how many times has one
of them even looked you in the eye?”

“A lot of people helped me out when I was
on my own. They gave me blankets and money-”

“They give you those things so they don’t
have to feel guilty when they go home and lay in their comfortable, warm beds
at night. This guy is no different – except he wants to take from you. as
well.”

“He’s not taking anything that I’m not
giving willingly.” That was meant to sting and from the look on Bennie’s face I
could see that it hit its target.

He swallowed hard and said, “What happens
when he gets bored with you, Summer? I mean, do you really think that whatever
you have with this guy is going to last? Do you really think you can fit in
with his friends and his family?”

His words stung as badly as mine had, but
I refused to let him see that. “Wow, you just assume I’m so boring he won’t be
able to stand me after a few weeks, huh?” Before he could say anything else I
said, “Never mind. None of this is really any of your business is it, Bennie?
You’re not my father, my husband, or my boss, so I’ll do what I want and if
there are consequences, I’ll deal with those, too. How dare you try to tell me
who I will or will not fit in with?!”

I’d stormed out then and took off walking.
Hours later now, I had walked up and down the beach, watching the tourists. I
watched them hold hands and kiss. I watched them play with their kids. I
watched them come and go in their nice clothes and designer swimwear. I watched
them go into the little shops and come out with big bags and go into the nice
restaurants and come out with full bellies. I saw them pass me without making
eye contact, and I watched them step over the homeless that littered the streets
as if they were invisible – or worse yet, a pile of dog crap that might stain
their designer shoes.

I wanted to prove Bennie wrong. I wanted
to make eye contact with just one of these people and see something in their
eyes that said we were equal. But I walked all day and that never happened.
What I saw only proved that he was right, and the hell of it was, I already
knew that. As the sun went down, I continued to walk along the beach, thinking
back to when I first came to that conclusion. Somewhere in the past two weeks
with Drake, I’d almost forgotten five years of hard lessons.

After I left the foster home, I lived in
an almost constant state of fear. It was so bad at first that I almost went
back a few times. I slept in bus terminals and in back alleys, but I only slept
during the day. I never closed my eyes at night. The night was filled with
street lights that made shadows that I feared, men who thought I was easy prey,
and lots and lots of other monsters. If one of them found me, I wanted to be awake
and alert so that I could fight. I got good at fighting. I even carried a knife
for a while. I came really close to using it one time on a man who had a
penchant for little girls. I was fifteen, but I looked twelve and that fact
sickeningly seemed to excite him. The fact that I wanted to stick the knife in
his guts and twist it sideways after I kicked him in the balls and took him out
of commission scared me enough to throw the knife
 
away.

From then on out, I’d slept out in the
open during the day while people stepped over and around me. I’d lie on the
cold cement in whatever city I happened to be in at the time and smell the
booze and old urine or the expensive perfumes and colognes of the housies as
they rushed by.

No matter how long I lived this way, each
time that I closed my eyes, I’d pray that when I woke up I’d find out that this
was all a horrible nightmare. Grandpa would still be alive, and we’d be on our
way to the next tournament. Of course, that was a prayer that could never be
answered and each time I opened my eyes, I was still very much alone.

I was always tired – not just tired, but
exhausted to my very bones. I was always hungry. Some days, my stomach growled
so much it was like it was speaking a language of its own. Some days, the little
cup I sat out would be full at the end of the day and others there would be
nothing. Occasionally, I wanted to give in to the lure of the alcohol and the
drugs I was being offered constantly – just as an escape. But fear kept me from
doing it. Fear motivated me to stay sober and clear-headed. The second I gave
in to the need to go somewhere else in my mind, I’d be at the mercy of the
monsters, and I couldn’t let that happen.

Ironically, meeting Bennie has been the
best thing that’s happened to me in five years. He was willing to help me
without pressuring me to use drugs or sell my body. He was a street person with
a moral code – a diamond in a pile of coal. My belly was fuller than it had
been in years and most importantly, I learned to sleep at night. He made me
feel safe and between him and the others, I never had to be alone. It was all I
needed for a while, but recently, I’d started to yearn for more again and I
have to ask myself, “Am I being greedy? Do I have a right to want more?” The
rational side of me wants to answer that yes, I’m being greedy. If it wasn’t
for Bennie and the others, I might be dead or worse by now. The side of me that
still knew how to dream wanted to beg to differ. Why can’t I want more? Why
can’t I rise up out of these fucking ashes and go on to do great things?
I didn’t sell my body. I didn’t fry my
brain on drugs or get addicted to alcohol. So I lived on the fringes of society
for a few years…I could come back from that. Couldn’t I?

CHAPTER
TWELVE

DRAKE

I waited in our spot on Black’s Beach for
almost an hour before I could convince myself that Summer wasn’t coming. When
she left yesterday, I wanted to go after her, but I got the feeling that was
the absolute wrong thing to do. Summer wasn’t like the girls I was used to
dating – the ones who thrived on the drama and thrill of the break-up and the
make-up. When she walked out, it was because she really needed to be alone and
me chasing her would only piss her off.

“Hey!” I looked in the direction of the
voice. It was my buddy Lance. I’ve been blowing him off for over a week. Lance
looks like a linebacker, and strictly judging from experiences I’ve had with
him since the age of about twelve, women find him irresistible. I was looking
at the scowl on his tan face now and wondering if the white blond hair and dark
brown eyes would be enough to compensate for that look if you were a woman.
“What the fuck, man? Is this where you’ve been hiding all week? You don’t take
my calls; you don’t show up to surf…”

“Sorry, man, I’ve been…distracted.”

“Laguna is in two weeks and Bali a week
after that. Sabrina says that guy from Catalyst is going to be at both of those
competitions, man. If you’re seriously looking at doing this without Daddy’s
money, you need to win. If they just wanted a model, they’d hire one.”

He was right. He was actually just
repeating words I’d spoken to him in the past. I was ready to do this on my own
so that I could retire in my own time with my own money. I want out from underneath
the old man’s thumb, once and for all. I’d had a few little sponsors here and
there, but Catalyst is the largest manufacturer of beach clothing and
accessories in the U.S. and most of Europe. My agent and ex-girlfriend Sabrina
had been courting them for me for months. Scoring that sponsorship would keep
me going for a few more years and by the time I was twenty five and ready to
settle down somewhere and open my surfing school, I wouldn’t need a penny of
Dad’s precious money. As far as I was concerned, it didn’t have anything to do
with me spending time with Summer. If I wasn’t doing that, I’d be out trolling
the bars and fucking random women.

 
“I’ve been working out. I just needed some
time to myself…sorry, man, I should have called you back.”

“Time to you or time with a little
homeless blonde with dreadlocks?”

“What?”

“I’ve seen you here with her. You’re
teaching her to surf, but it’s a lot more than that isn’t it? You’re fucking
her, too.”

“What the hell are you doing sneaking
around watching me? That’s creepy.”

“I wasn’t sneaking around watching you. I
saw you come down here yesterday and I was going to come down and surf with
you. When I got down here you were teaching the homeless girl all kinds of
fancy moves.”

“Don’t call her that.”

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Man, you
know I don’t care who you hook up with, but I’ve seen that chick on the
streets. She’s hardcore. A company like Catalyst is going to be looking for a
guy with a supermodel or at the least a hot surfer girl on his arm, not a
street urchin.”

“Fuck you, Lance! I said don’t talk about
her like that. She’s not a fucking ‘street urchin.’”

“Oh, so she actually has a job or at least
a place to go and change her clothes every night? Because from what I’ve seen,
she’s like a fucking cartoon character. She wears the same clothes every day.”

Lance and I have been friends since grade
school. He’s pissed me off before, but I’ve never hit him…until now. I punched
him in the mouth and knocked him down into the sand. It was surreal. I watched
myself do it and then looked down at him there on his ass looking up at me with
the side of his mouth bleeding and a look of shock on his face. I knew I had
overreacted.

“Fuck… Man, I’m sorry…” I reached my hand
out and he knocked it out of the way and jumped to his feet.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He
wiped his mouth and looked at the blood on his hand in disbelief. “You’re
hanging around with street people and all of a sudden you’re acting like an
asshole.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to hit
you, but you can’t talk about her like that. Just because she doesn’t have
money doesn’t give you the right to call her names. You’re the one acting like
an asshole. Summer is a person like anyone else and a better person than most
people I know!”

“You’re not just fucking this girl, you’re
falling for her. Fuck, man…what is your family going to say when you take her
home to dinner?”

“She doesn’t have any intentions of coming
home to dinner with me, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“She doesn’t have any intentions, but you
do? Have you lost your fucking mind? Your father would bust a blood vessel in
his head and your mother… Jesus, man, I wouldn’t want to be there for that
meeting.”

“Just shut the fuck up, Lance. You have no
idea what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t, really? Remember sophomore year
when you invited that girl, what the fuck was her name? Lucy or Linda….”

“Lori.” I grimaced at the memory.

“Yeah, that was it, Lori. Lori’s father
was the janitor at our school and her mother was a hairdresser and they had
like five or six kids, right?” When I didn’t answer him he went on, “She was a
scholarship kid. You took her to your mother’s birthday dinner at Island Prime
and she wore that funky-looking dress from the fifties or something-”

“It was a vintage dress and she looked
great.” Another time in my life I’d been sick of it all and tried to go my own
way.

“Right, and your mother told her she
looked great and asked her where she bought the dress. Lori told her at the
Salvation Army. Then your mother went on to ask what her parents did and how
many kids there were in her family….”

I was feeling nauseated just thinking
about it. My father didn’t say two words my sister smirked the entire time.
Lance had stared down at his plate as my dear, sweet mother went in for the
kill. She smiled the entire time. She spoke politely. Poor Lori didn’t know
what hit her; she just knew that somehow the sweet, polite lady had made her
feel like shit. “Stop it! I’m not in high school any longer, and my mother and
I had a big fight over that, remember? She hasn’t done that again.”

“Is that because your talk set her
straight or because you haven’t taken anyone home since that didn’t come from a
pedigreed bloodline?” My head felt like it was going to explode. I started
packing up my shit. “You’re taking off?”

“I’m finished with this conversation.” I
was pissed, but I was still hoping to appeal to the heart I knew he had, but
hid well. “We’re grown-ups, Lance. Don’t you ever want to experience what it
would be like to get to know someone who wasn’t handed things their entire
life? How much more interesting would that be than the way we grew up? Instead
of private school and nannies, public school and latch key. I’m sick of the
same old same old. I like Summer, and I don’t care if she has a dollar or a
dime in her pocket. I don’t care if she only owns one set of clothes. I don’t
care where she lives or where she comes from. I like her, I want her, and
anyone who has a problem with that can go fuck themselves.” When I stood up
straight and looked back over at Lance, he was looking at Summer. I didn’t know
how long she’d been standing there, but she was giving me a look I couldn’t
quite interpret. “Summer.”

She glanced nervously over at Lance. “I’m
sorry I’m late. Are you leaving?”