“Hello?” I’d rushed to the phone hopeful that it hadn’t awaken my father. I still hadn’t recovered from last nights beating and the last thing I needed was a pissed off, hung-over father tearing away at me again.
“Hey. Is Aphrodite around?”
“This is her. Who’s speaking?”
“Its Robin. From the bar.” It took me a moment to process who it was. The soft monotone voice filling my ear, and then it hit me. “Oh hey! What’s up?” After talking for a couple of minutes I had a date. Two hours later I was dressed and waiting for Robin to appear. A deep purple bruise was lightly showing through the mounds of make-up and my hair was piled high on my head to cover my freshest scar. A silver Mazda pulled up and Robin got out. Two seconds later I was at the door and down the walk way. His car was covered in trash and the interior stunk of stale French fries. Moving stacks of C.Ds and piles of dirty t-shirts I sat down on the sticky leather. Thankful I had worn jeans instead of a skirt.
We pulled up to an old, crummy drive in movie theater. A sappy romance movie was beginning to play, black and white images covered the screen. “Hope you like Breakfast at Tiffany’s.” He smiled though his eyes stayed cold. “Love it.” I replied though I’d never even heard of it. Robin pressed his chilly hand on my knee. The cold seeping through the rough blue denim. I knew where this would lead. I wasn’t stupid. It started with a simple, sweet hand on the knee and ended with us in the backseat. And just as I expected his lips soon met mine. His hand wrapped around my neck and mine around his waist. We seemed to have skipped right over holding hands and quick awkward pecks. As his right hand snuck up my shirt his left pushed the seats back. My back was pushed into the nasty grey leather as his hand rested on my shoulder. Forbidding me from getting up. His chapped lips pressed hard against mine and his salty tongue wrestled with mine. My hands where tangled in his thick blonde hair, legs wrapped around his waist pulling him in closer. Suddenly that same feeling of drowning struck me. My head couldn’t break the surface, limbs flaying everywhere, feet kicking wildly. So overcome with my underwater adventure I hadn’t noticed Robin’s hand trailing up my shirt. “Please. Please stop!” My voice was weak, lungs filling with air making breathing painful. Robin pushed off me and sat our chairs up. I looked over at him, his sparkling emerald eyes emotionless, his hair a mess and his lips red and swollen. “I’m sorry.” The words where barley a whisper and when they escaped my mouth I knew that I was becoming my mother. One baby step at a time.
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