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Chapter Ten

Emma—Age 16

Tonight at my Sweet 16 party, I am going to have sex with Bobby Sarson. I’ve already done it with a couple of other boys, but I think it’s going to be different this time because I really like him, and I’ll bet he’s probably pretty good at it. I know he’s already had sex with Jenny Thomas because her best friend, Susan, told me. I’m on the volleyball team with Susan, and she tells me everything about the two of them. They aren’t together anymore, though, so I’m pretty sure he’ll be into me. He’s a senior and I’m a sophomore, and my brothers always told me that senior boys like sophomore girls the best. They never told me why, but I really don’t care. I can’t wait for tonight.

My mom somehow convinced Michael to let me have a party with both boys and girls for my birthday, and they actually rented a room at a fancy country club for it. All my girlfriends bought new dresses, and the boys have to wear ties and everything. There’s even going to be a DJ. Most of the kids at my school have big Sweet 16 parties, and I just cannot believe I am going to have one, too. I have no idea what my mom had to do to get Michael to agree to this.

At five o’clock, we drive over to the country club and put up some decorations. Then, at six, everyone starts to arrive. I look pretty great in my new dress. I hope Bobby likes it as much as I do. After dinner, the DJ starts, and everyone gets up to dance. I am grateful that my mom and Michael are being cool and have pretty much left us alone. Instead of chaperoning the party, they are sitting in the lobby bar drinking, which somehow doesn’t surprise me at all. Hell, I’ve been living without a chaperone since Carol stopped coming five years ago. Why do I need one now?

Now that I’m in high school, my mom and Michael are gone nearly all the time. They go all over the place on these crazy trips for Michael’s job. I’m still not sure exactly what he does, but it is totally awesome having that huge house to myself all the time. Even my brothers are gone. Evan is living out of state, so he’s completely out of the picture, and the other asshole is living with his friend downtown—he’s working in some restaurant as a waiter or something lame like that. Evan is a real fuck-up now. He makes me look like a freggin’ angel. It’s a shame, really, because he used to be such a nice guy. He moved away when Ricky decided not to pay attention to him anymore. Evan said he had better things to do than hang out with his brother anyway. Turns out those “better things” were drugs. He got busted for possession again last year, and Michael refused to bail him out. Evan was really pissed, and Mom and Michael got in a huge fight about it. Michael said two nights in jail was an appropriate punishment for Evan’s actions. I wish my punishments were two nights in jail. That would be way better than the punishments I get. When Michael is around to bust me for some bullshit thing I did wrong, my punishments are way worse. I remember when I was nine and Michael caught me stealing two dollars from my mom’s purse, he locked me up in the attic for a whole Saturday. I wasn’t allowed to have food or water the whole time. He wouldn’t even let me turn on the lights when night came. It was summer, and it was really fucking hot up there. Then there was the time I got in a fight at school with Sadie Wilkinson. She said I was looking at her boyfriend—which I was not, because her boyfriend is Ted Yingst, and he’s not even worth looking at, let alone fighting over. She got up in my face and slapped me. And I was not about to let her get away with that. When the principal called Michael about it, he came down to the school, dragged my ass to the mall, and made me stand at the entrance holding a huge sign that said “I am a terrible daughter” until it was dark outside. I have never been so humiliated in my life. Michael is a cocksucker. I hate him.

The DJ has turned down the house lights and pumped up his colored stage lights. For an older guy, he’s playing pretty good music. I am dancing with some of the girls on the volleyball team, and Susan is prodding me to go talk to Bobby. Every time I look over at him, he’s looking straight at me. And the greatest part is that he doesn’t look away when I glance over at him. He keeps looking at me, which means, of course, that he wants to have sex with me tonight. I knew he would.

By ten o’clock, the room is full of swirling lights, twisted bodies and loud music. Crazy Ava Zimmerman stole some whisky out of her dad’s stash and brought two full bottles with her. Ava is totally rowdy, and I love her. She hid the booze in the trash can in the women’s bathroom. We’ve all been taking turns dashing in there to pour some into our sodas, and I for one am pretty damned buzzed.

The party is supposed to end at eleven o’clock, so I figure if I’m going to make it with Bobby, I’d better get to it. He is sitting with some of his friends, and I walk straight over to him, grab his hand, and pull him out of the room. I have to be careful not to walk through the lobby because my mom and Michael are probably still at the bar. Instead, I drag Bobby down the back hallway and into one of the locker rooms.

I know how to give a blow job because of my brothers. I learned when I was eleven. They were always having their high school friends over to watch porn movies when my mom and Michael were away. Ricky thought it was so fucking funny for me to be there while they were watching those things. They used to tease me relentlessly about it, and most of the time, I would cover my eyes so I didn’t have to see. At the time I thought they were total sickos, but now I’m kind of glad because I know how to do lots of stuff while most of the other girls my age don’t have a clue.

Bobby and I are making out in the locker room, and when I rub up against him, I can feel how much he likes it. I unzip his pants, pull it out, and start messing with him. For some reason he isn’t trying to take off my dress or anything, he is just letting me touch him. I drop to my knees and start sucking him, and he is shaking like a leaf with his hand on the back of my head.

The next thing I know, the lights go on and I hear my mother screaming. Crap. Crap. Crap. I look up at Bobby, and his eyes are wide open. In an instant, he has tucked himself back into his pants and is rushing out of the locker room. I turn my head around after him and see that he is face-to-face with Michael.

“Don’t worry, son,” Michael says to Bobby, putting his hands on Bobby’s shoulders, “I know what a manipulative little thing she is. It’s not your fault she dragged you in here. You go ahead back to the party. We’ll be there in a minute.” But I know that it isn’t true. I will not be going back to the party. I want Bobby to stand up for me, to tell Michael that he’s wrong, but I know he’s not going to. Why would he? Even my own mother won’t.

Michael turns to her, runs his hands over his greasy hair, and shakes his head. “See? Do you see why she never deserved to have this fucking party in the first place? Do you see why I told you this was a bad idea? We have just paid two thousand dollars for that boy to get his cock sucked.” My mother is standing there doing nothing, and I can see that Michael is livid. His head is getting red, and his neck is stiff. I’m not sure exactly why my body decides to laugh, but it does. And the next thing I know, I am rolling on the floor in the men’s locker room laughing my ass off.

“Emma,” he shouts, “stand up.” But I can’t because I am laughing so hard. I am laughing at the look on Bobby’s face, at Michael’s red cheeks, at my mother’s doe-eyed obedience, at the thought of myself rolling on a locker room floor. Michael reaches down and jerks me to my feet. “Do you think this is funny? You wanna be on your knees, huh? Well then, let’s let everyone see you on your knees.” He grabs my upper arms, pulls me past my idiot mother, out the locker room door, down the hallway, and out the door of the building.

We are standing in the parking lot now, just outside the front door, and Michael pushes me on to the ground and tells me to kneel. The parking lot is unpaved, and I feel tiny pieces of gravel dig into my knees. Ah, here we go again. Michael and his fucking punishments. I am going to have to kneel here, on this sharp gravel, for the rest of the night. I’ll be kneeling as all my party guests pass by, as all their parents drive up to take them home, as all the country club employees leave for the night. I’ll be kneeling here for as long as he tells me to. For as long as he sees fit. For as long as he thinks I deserve to.

I can tell you this much, though, I am not going to cry. I am not going to give him that pleasure. I am going to keep my burn inside, just like I always do with Michael.