Chapter 61
She stopped shaking and her body went limp. I grabbed her by the waist and helped her collapse onto the bed. She fell sitting up, heavy like a sack of potatoes: sweaty, panting, face flushed, eyes glazed. For a second I thought she was gonna pass out. I froze. She had fucked me with such focused rage that I thought it was aimed at me, like she was taking something out on me. Me, I was still buzzing, my pussy tingling from the sensitivity—not pain, but the skin was too hot from the raw friction; we weren't that lubed up and the growing pubes made everything rougher.
"Holy shit… I gotta quit smoking. Can't catch my breath," she complained, hand on her chest, laughing nervously.
I didn't even know she smoked. Never seen her do it. Must be on the down-low from my aunt. I've never touched a cigarette myself. Booze doesn't appeal to me either. And I hate kisses that taste like an ashtray. With Carla, even exhausted and sweaty, the taste was salt and hot breath. I looked at her sprawled on the bed, still kinda wild in the eyes, and felt that dumb mix of relief and pride: she had used me like a rag doll and I just watched to see if there'd be an encore.
She shot me a sideways look, finger to her lips for silence, and pointed at the door. She went to the switch, flipped it with a sharp click, and turned off the lights. The room plunged into darkness, leaving only the dim glow from the window outlining her body. Carla knelt slowly, put her hands on the floor, and stuck her face into the gap under the door, like she was sniffing out noise. I held my breath and crawled over until my knee touched hers, trying to see what she was trying to see.
There was someone there. On the other side, standing still in the hallway, a shadow holding its own breath to listen better. The silence got thick. The hallway felt like a throat. A chill hit me from inside, climbed up my spine, and locked my jaw. Deep down I knew who it was, and that made it all worse.
"Get dressed," she whispered, not looking at me, already pulling down the skirt bunched at her waist and smoothing the fabric.
I fumbled for my shorts in the dark, fingers clumsy, heart pounding in my throat. I shoved one leg in, then the other, yanked them up to my thighs in a rush, and my panties bunched up all twisted in my pussy. My eye stayed glued to the crack like the door was breathing, opening and closing a sliver of light, and each gap said the same thing: someone's listening to us.
The door flew open and all hell broke loose.
"What the fuck are you doing standing there, you idiot?" Carla yelled at the top of her lungs.
Another sign that nobody in the house respected my stepdad.
"Nothing…" From my angle I couldn't even see his face. Just heard his voice all twisted up.
"Then go do nothing somewhere else," she cut him off before he could say more, then flipped the light back on. "How long you been out there?"
"Whoa, what's your problem? You think I was eavesdropping at the door? Show some respect, Carla, or I'll tell your mom."
"You show some respect, you fucking perv. Were you listening at the door or not?"
"What listening, kid? I came to call you for dinner and stopped to check a message."
"Oh, fuck off, you piece of shit. Get out, get out. You deserve a beatdown with a bat in the middle of the street."
When she said that, my ass clenched. He was an idiot, but he was still my stepdad and we kinda had to respect him. I felt the shitstorm coming. One of the big ones that splatters the whole house.
He tried to say something else, but my cousin's vocabulary was heavy artillery. My stepdad swallowed hard, stammered a couple words, and bolted.
When the fight was over, she shut the door laughing. I was pissed, but more scared than pissed. If he opens his mouth to my mom and says I was fucking Carla… even if I deny it—and if I can deny it—it'd turn into a soap opera. I didn't even want to think about it. My mom would beat the crap out of me.
"Fuck, you crazy bitch, what are you laughing about? He's gonna run and tell my mom you cussed him out and, worse, tell her what we were doing."
"Stop being dumb, kiddo. You think he's gonna admit he was listening to us fucking at the door?"
I paused, thought for a second.
"Yeah… that makes sense."
"Plus, he's a coward and everybody knows it. 'Dyke' and 'fag' the family tolerates these days. But a guy chasing after young girls… that'd make him a wanted poster."
Carla opened my closet, grabbed more wet wipes, and cleaned her legs, her belly, the corner of her mouth. I did the same. Nobody was heading to the bathroom now to bump into him. There's a bathroom on my floor, but it's a punishment. The pipes creak, water comes out smelling weird, the flush—if you need a second one—leaves you hanging while the tank fills forever. The old tiles from when the house was built, hideous. In the ceiling, the wooden hatch leads to that "attic" that's not an attic, just a space between the roof and slab. At night it turns into a zoo: raccoon stumbling around, cat running, pigeon flapping wings, I die of fear thinking it's a ghost, so I don't even set foot in that bathroom.
To make it worse, the bitch rummaged through my drawers and just took one of my panties and put it on, saying she didn't want to stay in her sticky one. I thought it was rude as hell, but I kept my mouth shut.
The silence got heavy and the doubt crept in.
"Carla, when I got here you were all uncomfortable with him in the kitchen. Why didn't you fight with him then?"
"Jully, because he's that type of guy with a stick up his ass. Doesn't do anything direct. Drops little jokes here, another there," she sat on the edge of the bed, eyes kinda distant. "Then, if you try to tell someone, 'he harassed me,' you can't even repeat exactly what he said to prove it. It all stays in the almost."
"Yeah. He's like that. And he doesn't take his eyes off my body." I sat next to her, staring into space too.
"Mine too. Staring I don't mind. But being alone with a guy staring at you… that scares me."
The air got thick with indignation. I looked at her in the skirt but no panties, legs crossed and spread facing me on the edge of the bed.
"Honestly, I never got my mom. A strong woman, wanting a loser like that."
She laughed like she already knew the answer.
"Jully…" that usual cocky tone "I'm gonna tell you, but don't get mad, okay?"
"Okay. Tell me."
"He's hot and young for her. She shows off to her friends that she's got a young guy. What, thirty-two, thirty-five tops? And your mom's like forty-five, right?"
She made a naughty face, biting the corner of her lip.
"Yeah, forty-four," I said, doing the math on the age difference.
"At least he must be good in bed, I don't know. 'Cause money-wise he's broke."
"Good in bed? Never heard a peep from those two in their room, seems like they don't even fuck… but there's one thing that works in his favor," I whispered, leaning into her ear.
"What? Spill it!"
"He's hung like a horse, girl."
"Oh, but that's obvious, right, Jully!" she laughed, all naughty.
"Fuck, girl, you check out the family guys' dicks?"
"Shit, Julia, how do you not see the bulge on that jerk when he gets in the pool?"
Carla said it laughing in that way that mixes outrage with naughtiness, total gossip buddy vibe. And me, out of nowhere, I decided to play along. Could I have stayed quiet? Sure. But it itched on my tongue.
"Can I tell you something? Swear on everything holy you won't tell a soul?"
"I swear. What?"
"I… saw his dick." I said it almost whispering.
"What do you mean, girl? Where?" she shifted, sitting facing me now with her face almost touching mine.
"I've got a photo."
"You do? Show me now." she ordered, laughing
I grabbed my phone, opened my secret folder—no judgments, okay? And found it. There were like four different ones, I picked his and turned the screen to her.
"Jesus Christ…" she widened her eyes, hand over her mouth. "Your mom's one lucky bitch."
I was gonna get offended, but her shock was so real that I just started laughing. Gossip delivered and dick in my face.