July - Adam

Adam Wright is Alli's boyfriend, but he's never sure what that actually entails.

July

Adam

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I have no idea what to do anymore.” I am trying to keep myself together, and I’m sitting on Alli’s bed that has recently been covered in laundry. I can barely find a place for my body to perch. I can’t remember the last time my mom wasn’t sobbing about Dad leaving us, or trying to get me in the middle of it.  Last month, I wasn’t even allowed to go to his house for Father’s Day.  I tried to go, but Mom shouted at me to stay, saying that I would be a terrible son if I showed my own dad any amount of respect.  I ended up screaming back some terrible things and going to Alli’s to vent.  I figured she’d give me advice or at least talk me down from the insane amount of rage I was feeling. 

            “Alli,” I said, holding back tears I’d been refusing to let fall for months, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

            “About what, exactly?” Alli asked back.

            I was sitting in her desk chair, and she was standing up, leaning against the desk with an arm around me.

            “About my family!” I hunched over and put my hands over my face. “I love my Mom, but I also want to be able to see my Dad. I can’t deal with this.”

            There was silence for a minute while I tried to gather myself, and Alli just rubbed my back.

            “Here,” she breaks the silence, “I know what will make you feel better.” She turned the chair around to I was facing her and kissed me.  At first it seemed sweet, like she was gently consoling me.  It felt nice, and I felt cared for, which is really all I needed.  But then she went for my belt.

            “What the hell, Alli?” I pushed her back, and redid my belt.

            “What?” She looked genuinely confused and a bit hurt, “What did I do?”

            “I’m actually trying to open up to you, and the only thing you can think to do is blow me?” I stood up and grabbed my jacket from her bed

            “Last time I checked, you liked it when I did that,” she said, her arms crossed over her chest and a pout resting on her lips.

            “Yeah, usually I do, but maybe I’d like my girlfriend to actually be my girlfriend for two seconds while I’m in the middle of a breakdown,” I snapped at her and left.

            We almost broke up because of that, but after talking it through, we realized it wasn’t a big enough deal to break-up over.  She promised to make a conscious effort to help me through my parents’ divorce by listening to me and supporting me, and not just immediately go to my pants. And I promised to do the same for whenever she’s feeling crappy.

            But, anyway, back to my mom and my current predicament.  She caught me on the phone earlier today and asked me who I was talking to.  I lied and said it was Eli, but she can always tell when I’m lying.  Must be a Mom thing.  She took the phone from me, and before I could react, she asked who was speaking. It was my dad, and she went off on him for a while before hanging up.  Then, she gave me one of her famous death-glares, before yelling at me about talking to Dad behind her back.  She wouldn’t stop shouting!  I tried to yell back, but she just got louder, her face red and swollen, like she was having an allergic reaction to screaming.  Before she was done with her your-father-is-such-a-pig-how-dare-you-talk-to-him speech, I just left. Even after I got out of there, I could hear her still shrieking from inside the house.

            “You have every right to talk to your dad,” Alli counsels from her desk chair a few feet away from the head of the bed.

            “I know,” I shake my head, “But maybe I really should just give up on that. For the present, anyway.”

            “It’s not fair for your mom to just control you like that, Adam” Alli counters, her voice soft and soothing.  I smile, because I can’t help it. I feel like I’ve been under house arrest for weeks now, and for a while whenever Alli and I were together, she just tried to break her previous record of how fast she could get my belt off.  But ever since that fight last month, she’s been really trying to figure out how to be supportive by just listening.  It sucks that we almost had to break up for her to understand that she can’t fix everything with her body, but it’s worked out. So far.

            “She just won’t listen to me, you know?” I say, my mind back on dealing with Mom, “About, basically, anything. Even stuff that isn’t related to Dad.”

            “Like what?” Alli leans forward in her chair, which causes her loose shirt to bow open, giving me ample ability to see her bright blue bra. I think it’s that one she always complains is too small, because her breasts are definitely falling forward out of the cups. Not without effort, I keep eye contact.

            “Like, whenever I say I’m coming over here to study or hang out, she tells me not to ever cheat on you. But she says it like it’s a gentle reminder, like when she tells me to not skip breakfast,” I explain, then see Alli’s somewhat bemused look, “Of course, I would never cheat on you or anything…”

            “I didn’t think you would,” she giggles, causing her chest to move slightly… damn it.  I’m such a jackass. I get mad at her for only thinking about sex instead of helping me with my life. And now I can’t help but think about sex when she’s trying to be supportive. I’m definitely a jackass.

            “I just feel like such a prisoner in my own home,” I sigh, my eyes trying to find anything but her breasts.

            She smirks and leans against the chair-back, concealing her bra once again, “Yeah, I guess you’re kind of stuck in a totalitarian dictatorship.” She smiles in that proud way of hers.

            “A totalitarian dictatorship, huh? Where’d you come up with that one?” I want to kiss her.

            “Heather needed to do a report about that kind of leadership, and I helped her study,” Alli replies nonchalantly, but I can tell she’s pleased with herself for pulling that one out. I am still wanting to kiss her.

            I can’t do it anymore. I need her kissing and touching me. Now. My brain is starting to get cluttered. I know I shouldn’t make her feel like an object, because she’s not, but she is so freaking hot. And her body against mine…

            “Come over here,” I say, and push the laundry away to make a space next to me.

            Without any hesitation, Alli walks from her desk to her bed and sits next to me, her long, blonde hair over one shoulder, her eyes sparkling like the Old Times.  The Old Times is the span of time between when we first started dating last June, and when she started becoming… different, around October. From June to October, she was this sexy, confident, cheerful, adventurous girl who was always doing something.  She and I would always be out finding new places to go or things to do.  Like that one time we got lost in the city looking for this Mexican place we heard about.  We were on foot and got so lost, and we knew we weren’t going to be able to find this place.  So instead we stopped into a pub-slash-restaurant we had gone to before a few times.  Turned out it was karaoke night, and Alli sauntered up on the makeshift stage that was at the end of the restaurant so everyone on the bottom floor could easily see, and just belted out some old pop song. “Girls Just Want To Have Fun” I think.  My mom used to listen to that song a lot. 

Anyway, Alli was laughing and not hitting a single one of those notes, but she was so unafraid and beautiful, that every person in that pub had their eyes glued to her and were singing and clapping along.  Her eyes were huge and sparkling, and when she swished her hair about, it looked like it had bits of sun in it.  She pranced around the stage like she owned it, shaking her hips and playing the part.  When the song was over, she took an elaborate bow, and walked back to our table. I was about to jokingly congratulate her on her terrible performance, when she leaned down and kissed me for a while as the rest of the restaurant clapped and cheered and wolf-whistled. 

In that moment, I knew I cared more about her than I ever cared for anyone else.  Just watching her be so confident and stunningly gorgeous having the time of her life… I never wanted to let her go.

            I could see a glimpse of that Alli right now as she sat next to me on her bed, grinning. I lean in and kiss her.  Her lips are hesitant, but she kisses me back.

            “Thank you for listening,” I say as I pull away.

            “It’s what I’m here for.”

            I kiss her again, and start to guide her down onto her back, but she pushes me off.

            “What’s wrong?” I ask, feigning confusion. I have a feeling I know why she’s upset, but I’m having a lot of trouble controlling myself.

            “What do you think you’re doing?” Just like that, Old Times Alli is gone, and Current Alli is back. And very angry.

            “I was kissing you.”

            Obviously, that’s not the answer she wants, because she quickly stands up from the bed and glowers down at me. “I thought you wanted me to take you seriously.”

            “What do you mean?” I just want her to sit down and take her clothes off. I can’t think, I just want her next to me, under me, on top of me…

            “You come over here to talk about how much of a prisoner you are, and I try to help, right?” Her face is red, and her hands are balled up into fists.

            “And you did help!” I insist, my eyes flickering all over her body, “And I thanked you for it a minute ago.”

            “Right, but then you tried to make-out with me.”

            “Right.”

            “So, what you are showing me is that when I want to be sexual with you, it’s inappropriate,” she’s starting to speak very quickly, “but when you want to mess around with me, then it’s totally fine.”

            Damn it. I’ve really stepped in it. “No, that’s not what I meant,” I motion for her to sit down again, “Just sit down for a second.”

            “Oh, why? So you can try to stick your c**k in my mouth?”

            That throws me off-guard completely, and suddenly all of my swimming sexual thoughts come to a halt. Nearly every time Alli has given me oral, it’s been completely of her own volition.  I have never even once tried to force anything on her, and I take a fair amount of pride in that.  But the way she’s saying it makes it sound like I force myself on her regularly, or that she doesn’t like doing the things she does for me.

            “Alli, that’s incredibly unfair,” I try to keep my voice steady, “You know I would never do anything like that to you.”

            She just looks at me, her intensely blue eyes unmoving.  The room starts to seem smaller and smaller, and the perfume she’s wearing that usually comforts me is now suffocating.

            “Please,” I try again, “Just sit down.”

            She hesitates, but sits.  Before I can say anything, she’s on top of me, pinning me to the bed.  Her mouth covers mine and she fiddles with my belt.  Her movements are sudden and violent, and her teeth hurt my lips as she bites them harshly.  She takes off my belt and starts to unzip my pants, when I manage to push her off of me onto the bed. 

            “What the hell is the matter with you, Alli?” I yell, zipping my jeans and looping my belt.  A minute ago, I might have just taken it, but she’s in a mood I no longer what to be around.

            “Isn’t this what you want?” She’s just lying on the bed, her voice soft and sensual, “A little w***e that will do whatever you want whenever you want it?”

            “NO!” I’m so angry with her that my vision is blurred. I have no idea where this is coming from, and her insane mood swings are killing me.

            “I don’t understand,” she says in a fake cutsey voice, “I thought you get to be sexual whenever you want it, and it doesn’t matter what I think.”

            “That isn’t it, Alli, and you know it!” Who is this person? I don’t even know this Alli anymore.  I don’t know the Alli who gets this angry and manipulative and awful.  I don’t know her at all, and I don’t want to. “Last month, I needed you! I needed you to help me with this piece-of-s**t life I have going on, and all you could do was try to take off my pants, and that’s not what I needed! I needed you to f*****g listen to me instead of using me. I needed you to be my girlfriend, but you weren’t.  That’s why I was angry. It wasn’t because of some deranged part of me that wanted to control your sexuality.”

            She doesn’t even flinch.  It’s like she’s used to people standing in the middle of her room screaming at her.

            “Get out of my room.”

            “What?”

            “Get the hell out of my room.”

            And so I do.

 

***

 

As soon as I get home, I realize that maybe I was better off trying to work things out with Alli, because Mom is still home.  Usually she goes to yoga or something on Saturday afternoons, but I guess she skipped it this time. Damn it. This is not my day.

“Where the hell have you been?” This time she isn’t screaming, which is almost worst.  Her calm angry voice freaks me out, too.  She’s sitting at our dining room table, which is adjoined to our living room where our stairs are.  I just need to get by her so I can go upstairs to my room and escape this awful day.

“Alli’s,” I mumble as I try to speed walk through the room.

“Oh, no, you do not get to just walk by me,” she says as she zooms out of her chair to block me.  She’s much shorter than me, but she’s one of those women who seems super intimidating no matter what their size.

“Mom, please,” I try begging, “I’ve had an awful day, and I just want to go and lie down.”

“You think you can just storm out of this house while I’m trying to have a conversation with you, then come home and ignore me?” Her voice is getting to that high pitch that precedes the yelling.

“You were screaming at me before I left the house!” I counter, “How does that constitute a conversation?”

I move to get around her, but she blocks me again.

“How dare you speak to me that way!” Her eyes are fiery and wild, and her arms are swinging all over the place, “You know you taught you to act like that?”

She waits for me to answer, and although I know exactly what she’s going to say, I just glare at her without speaking.

“Your father,” she practically spits out.

“Of course,” I throw up my hands in defeat, “But you know what? If my father is the one who taught me to have a mind of my own, then I’m grateful for it.”

Then she slaps me. She slaps me hard across the face before I can even react. A sharp pain blooms from the center of my right cheek to the rest of my cheek and temple and chin.  I bring a hand up to feel the heat.  It’s so hot, like she slapped me with a branding iron.

“Oh… Oh my God…” My mother has both of her hands covering her mouth.  Any fire in her eyes has left, and the only thing left is regret.

I can’t even speak. I don’t know what to say or even how to react properly. My mother just slapped me in the face. What the hell?

She reaches her left hand to my face, but I pull away.

“Don’t touch me.” I finally say, quietly.

“Honey, Adam, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean�"” But I just shake my head at her.

“There is nothing you can say that will make what you just did okay,” I say slowly, still trying to take in what just happened.

I turn around and head back out the front door.  I walk down the driveway to my car, get in, and drive away.  I have no idea where I’m going.  My first instinct is to go back to Alli’s.  She may be a bit volatile, but at least she would never hit me.  I feel even more alone than I have been.  I can’t lose Alli as well as my parents.  I can’t go through all this craziness by myself.  Plus, to be totally honest with myself, Alli had a right to be mad.  I didn’t mean to create a double standard in our relationship, but I still did.  At the same time, she often does decide that the only thing we do is be sexual with each other instead of actually doing something.  But that’s something we can work on.

Guess I’m going to Alli’s.

When I get there, I park outside of her house and call.

“Hey,” she says after the fourth ring.  She doesn’t sound pissed, which is a good sign.

“Hey, Jellybean,” I say back, using the silly nickname I gave her last year, “I’m really sorry for earlier. I was way out of line. Can you come outside and talk?”

There’s silence on the other end for a few moments, then, “Okay, sure.”

I get out of my car and for the first time I really realize how hot it is outside.  All day I’ve been from car to house to car to house to car, and I just never took a second to really feel the July heat.  Wow.

After a few minutes, I see Alli leaving the house and walking up towards me wearing the tiniest pair of denim shorts she owns and a little white tank top without a bra.  Her hair is in a loose bun on top of her head, and little tendrils are falling out to frame her beautiful oval face and glowing blue eyes. Damn. She is gorgeous.

Before we say anything, she hugs me, and I happily accept.

“I’m sorry, too,” she murmurs into my ear, her breath hot, “I shouldn’t have overreacted like that.”

She pulls away from the hug to look at me, and I’m about to reiterate my apology, but her face changes to one of concern just as she sees my face.

“Why is your cheek so red?” She asks and touches it lightly. I wince, and she pulls it back immediately.

“Well,” I start, not sure if I want to tell her the whole thing, “When I got home from seeing you, my mom was there�"”

“Wait, did your mom hit you?” She interrupts, looking horrified.

“Yeah…” I nod my head, “I think she was just really mad…”

“It doesn’t matter how mad someone is! There is no excuse for this!” Alli is holding my shoulders now, looking into my eyes, and all I want to do is melt into her.  I don’t care how much of a hassle she can be. At least she cares.

She leans in and kisses me. Her lips taste like mint and candy. All I want is for us to be just like this.  No fighting, no yelling, no misunderstandings �" just her kissing me and my hands around her waist.