Dirty Clothes Packed

I’m leaving for the airport. Everything is packed, mostly dirty clothes I’ll wash when I get home. Or Mom will wash them. I’ll just leave my bag in the garage on top of the washing machine. My private stuff is in my backpack, and anyway, I left anything suspicious at his place.

Mom will ask the usual nosey questions. How are your suite mates? Did you tell Julie I said hello? Was Liam sad to see you leave on break? I’ll answer honestly about my suite mates and Julie. I can even say that yeah, Liam will miss me. It’s the truth. I can leave out that he’s been missing me for months. I tried staying his girlfriend after I met my man, but I couldn’t keep it up. He was too hurt and I was too bored.

Anyway, it was too hard to hide the marks. The marks that tell me I’m his. The marks I feel under my clothes when I walk. The marks I can’t help poking and feeling when I’m alone in the shower, or in my tiny bed at night, under the covers, remembering what it’s like to be in his bed.

I’ll tell Mom the real truth about Liam. Maybe I’ll say we broke up when spring break comes, so I won’t have to explain why we’re not going someplace together. I can just be a single girl until summer, at least so far as Mom knows. After that I’ll invent some new boyfriend to tell her about.

I can’t tell her the truth. Mom, I’m seeing an older man. He makes me feel things I’ve never felt. He makes love to me all night. He ties me up. He hits me. I’m addicted to his touch. Everything in my life until now is just another stone in my pocket. I’m weighed down until I leap into him. Then, by some miracle, my body sinks but I float, my consciousness as light as a leaf in his current.