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Authors: J.A. Huss

Eighteen (18) (16 page)

BOOK: Eighteen (18)
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“What’s any of this,” I say, lifting my hands up in the same way, “have to do with sex?”

He just smiles. “Nothing at all. It’s got nothing at all to do with sex. I just like you and I want to fuck you, and tease you, and play you. Not like that,” he says, seeing the anger inside me building. “Not like a victim, Shannon. Like an instrument.”

He reaches over for a roll of paper towels sitting on the table next to him, rips one off, and cleans up the mess on his stomach. He throws it into the trash, stands up, and puts himself back together.

“If you want to walk away,” he says, grabbing his book from the table, “go ahead. Report me to Bowman, tell the police, do whatever the fuck you want. But I’m trying to tell you, I’m invested. So go date Danny Alexander if you want. You can quit this class and drop out of school. You can fuck everything up. You’re a grown woman, you can make whatever choice you feel is best. But when you look back in ten years and wonder where it all went wrong, don’t blame me, Shannon. Because I gave a fuck and you walked out.”

And then
he
walks out. He’s got that stupid book in his hand and he just walks out and leaves me there.

Stunned.

I sit in silence for, fuck—minutes, I think.

“You done in here?”

I whirl around in my chair and find the janitor peeking his head into the room.

“I’m locking up, kid. Time to go home.”

I nod, dragging myself out of my stupor, and grab my backpack. I don’t say a word as I walk past him and out of the school. It’s dark already and the parking lot is empty. But off to the left I can hear the low rumble of a motorcycle.

I look over and see Mateo, helmet and leather jacket on, staring at me.

I walk towards him and stop a few feet away. He’s holding out a flannel and a helmet. I take the flannel and slip it on, hiking my pack up onto my back, and then shove the helmet down on my head as I swing my leg over the seat.

I sigh as I press my cheek against his jacket, taking in the scent of him, and wrap my arms around his waist. He places a hand on mine for a second, and then we move forward and leave the school behind.

He doesn’t take me home. He pulls into his driveway and I sit on the back of the bike as we wait for the garage to open. He pulls in, turns the bike off, and kicks down the stand.

There are at least half a dozen cars in his giant garage. All classics. An old Mustang, a classic Camaro, a GTO, and some more I can’t easily identify, plus parts. The place is spilling over with cars and it’s a lot bigger on the inside than it looks on the outside. I get a sense that there is a lot more to Mateo Alesci than meets the eye. I don’t know him any more than he knows me.

I take my helmet off and swing my leg over the bike. He does the same.

And we look at each other.

“You wanna go to the beach with me tomorrow night?” he asks.

I nod and place the helmet on his seat.

“Pick you up in front of your house at seven.”

He walks away and goes inside his house.

I’m barely aware of the traffic on Broadway as I cross the street, walk through the gate of the apartments that are not mine, enter the alley on the other side, and make my way to my patio. I have to lean against the brick wall next to my window and take a few deep breaths.

I don’t know anything right now. I’m blown. I go inside and I don’t even hear Jason’s snide remarks as he gathers his keys and walks out, leaving me with a sleeping Olivia.

I am blown.

Chapter Twenty

 

I have been babysitting on Saturdays
ever since Jill died. Jason always works breakfast and lunch on the weekends and he leaves early in the morning. But Olivia woke up around three AM and didn’t stop crying. When I went into Jason’s room to see what the problem was, he wasn’t there. He never came home. Asshole. I’m so fucking pissed about that. Responsible people don’t stay out all night when they have a baby at home.

And she’s been cranky all day too. I’m just starting to wonder if I should take her temperature and see if she’s sick or something when at ten minutes to seven, Jason walks in looking like total shit.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

“Working,” he sneers, walking into the kitchen. “Foreign concept, I know.” He starts making Olivia a bottle.

“She already has a bottle, Jason. She might be sick.”

“You just make it wrong.”

“OK,” I say, grabbing my purse. “I’m out of here.” I go out the back way, like normal—I don’t like the thought of Jason watching me out the front window as I wait for Mateo. It creeps me out far more than anything that’s happened between me and my teacher. I walk back up the alley to the laundry building and slip through the passageway that leads back to the front.

“Hey, Shannon,” a woman says off to my left.

Shit, that cop chick. I nod and keep walking.

“How’s your niece?’”

“What?” I ask, stopping to turn.

“The baby. I heard her crying today. Is everything OK?”

“Oh, yeah,” I say, letting out a sigh. “She was fussy all day. But Jason’s home now, he’ll get her to sleep. He’s good at it.” He is too. I have to reluctantly admit that.

“Good to hear,” she says. “See you around. Don’t get in any trouble tonight.”

“Right,” I say, just as Mateo’s car pulls up on the far side of the quad. It’s the red Camaro I saw in the garage and it’s rumbling like a monster. He gets out and walks around to the passenger side, opening my door for me. I take him in, I can’t help it. He’s wearing a black t-shirt, leather jacket, jeans and boots. Same old, same old. But for some reason, he looks different.

“Subtle,” I say, motioning to the loud-as-fuck car and slipping into the seat. I catch a smile as he closes the door and watch him under the streetlights as he walks around to his side and gets back in.

“Did you eat?” he asks.

“No.”

“Doesn’t that fuck feed you?”

I scoff. “Why would he?” And then I sigh again. Jesus, I’m in a bad mood. “He does give me money sometimes. But the only food he buys is formula for Olivia. I guess he eats at the restaurant.”

“What restaurant?” Mateo asks, pulling away from the curb and flipping a bitch to head back towards West Street.

“Oh, I don’t even know. I guess he works somewhere over by Disneyland. He’s a chef.”

“He’s a chef?” Mateo says with disbelief.

“Yeah, why?”

“Nothing. Just interesting.”

“Where are we going?” I ask, a few blocks later when he gets on the freeway.

“Crescent Bay in Laguna.”

“Why so far? We could just go to the fire pits at Huntington.”

“You can’t see the stars in Huntington. Even with a new moon.”

“You’re taking me to see the stars?” I have to look away to hide my smile.

“So you wanna eat before or after?”

“Dinner too?”

He laughs. “God, Shannon. You act like you’ve never been on a date before.”

“This is a date?”

“Isn’t it?” he asks, squinting at me. “I guess I wasn’t clear.”

I stay silent for a few seconds, mulling this over. I hadn’t really thought about it as a date. “Well, wow.”

“Wow what?”

“I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.”

“You thought I was a fuck-’em-and-forget-’em kind of guy? You don’t listen very well, do you?”

“I hear you, Mateo. I just don’t
believe
you.”

“Fair enough. Everyone’s got baggage. But you have to believe in someone eventually. It might as well be me.”

“You lied last night. You had me freaking out that you were in my bedroom touching me while I was sleeping.”

“It turned you on. You can admit it, you know.”

“It freaked me out, Mateo.”

“Sure did,” he says. “It freaked you out so much you got on my bike ten minutes later. It freaked you out so much you agreed to go on a date with me. So why did you do those things if you think I’m creepy?”

I can’t answer that.

“Do you really need me to state the obvious?”

“Yes,” I say back. “I really do.”

“You like me.”

“I think I’m afraid of you, Mateo.”

“Then why are you here?” he asks. It’s not a confrontational question, either. It comes off as sincere. Like he needs to know the answer as much as I do. “Why not just go out with Danny Alexander?”

I sigh heavily.

“I’m gonna make you admit it tonight, so go ahead, get it over with.”

“Maybe I just want to graduate high school and I need you to help me do that.”

“I’m pretty sure Bowman would find you another teacher if you told him what was going on.”

Another heavy sigh from me.

“Just say it,” he says softly. “I’m dying to hear the words, Shannon. And once you say them out loud, you’ll feel better.”

But I don’t say them. I know he wants me to admit that I like this. But I’m just not sure I do. He’s confusing me. He mixing up the school work with the sex, even though the other day he said they are not related. He’s making them related. He’s tying my need to finish this class in with his desire to control me.

So I keep quiet and he turns some music on—Cage the Elephant, by some stupid twist of fate—and I just stare out at the other cars on the freeway. It takes a good half hour to get to Laguna and the town is bustling with people out for the evening. We park the car and get out, Mateo grabbing a backpack stuffed with things and slinging it over his shoulder as he takes my hand.

Takes. My. Hand.

I look down at it.

“You don’t like the hand-holding?” he asks, as we walk through the small grassy area towards the steps that will take us down to the beach.

“I just
don’t understand
the hand-holding.”

“It’s a pretty basic display of affection, Shannon. Not real complicated.”

“Ummm. It’s very complicated when you’re fucking your teacher who is ten years older than you.”

He lets go of my hand. “OK.”

I sigh. Jesus Christ. Why did I even come out with him tonight? Why the hell am I even talking to this creep? He’s probably a serial killer. He probably likes weird sex with butt plugs and whips.

“Do you know what the new moon is?”

I roll my eyes. “I might only be eighteen but I’m not an idiot.”

“I have never thought you were an idiot, Shannon Drake. Ever. So do you know what it is?” he repeats.

“There’s no moon on the new moon.”

“But you probably don’t know why, right? Most people don’t understand the movement of the moon, and that’s cool, because it’s sorta complicated. That’s all I’m asking, Shannon. Why do you get so defensive?”

“Why do you make me feel so stupid?”

“Do I?” he asks. “It’s not one of my goals with you, so take that any way you want.”

I say nothing after that. I’m too busy noticing how fucking dark and empty of people it is down here on the beach. It’s winter, for one. And cold in a SoCal kind of way. Regardless of what people think, the beach isn’t somewhere people go on winter nights.

We walk out to the middle of the beach and he unpacks a blanket and throws it down on the sand. “Come on,” he says, lowering himself down. I just stand there as he takes his shoes off.

“Are you going to fuck me out here?”

He laughs. “I wasn’t planning on it, but hey, I won’t turn you down if you insist.”

I lower myself to my knees and sit back on my butt.

“Take off your shoes, for fuck’s sake. It’s the beach.”

I reposition myself and take off my Chucks, and then stretch out my legs next to his as he lies back and puts his hands behind his neck. I follow along, doing the same.

“So that orange star right there,” he says, pointing up at the sky, “is Aldebaran. It’s in the constellation Taurus.”

“Hmmm,” I say, trying to find which of the many points of light he’s talking about. “I can’t tell which one is which.”

BOOK: Eighteen (18)
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