Page 40 of Dirty Roulette

“Yeah...” I lie, which is turning into pure muscle memory. “I’m fine.” With a hand, I wipe my cheek. Not a single word I say is true at this point. I’m not okay. All I want to do is go back to the trailer park and rot like my destiny calls me to.

***

Banging a fist on the front door at three in the morning is embarrassing. Mum wraps a robe around her naked self while answering. Cold eyes pull my heart down like gravity.

“God Damnit, Payton! It’s three in the morning!”

“I know!” I cry back.

I climb up the three narrow stairs into the trailer and storm down the creaky hall to my bedroom. The mattress is still stripped, and the pillow is worn and used up. I collapse to the one thing I know is real. My fingers burrow into the fabric as I finally let go, sobbing.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Mum asks, standing in the doorway with the dim hallway light bleeding in.

“Nothing! I just wanted to come home!”

“I told you to watch yourself. What kind of mess did you get tangled into?”

“I didn’t get into anything! I just don’t wanna be there anymore!” I sob like a two-year-old, clinging the pillow to my chest as if it’s the only thing in the world that’s going to save me.

Mum storms up and yanks the pillow from my grasp. “I can’t hear you when you cry like that!”

“College was a stupid idea! I belong here so I can rot and smell like the cat lady down the street.”

“Stop that!” She smacks the top of my head. “What the hell is wrong with you talking like that? I might live in a trailer but it doesn’t make me less of a person. Whatever is going on, let's make it a tomorrow problem. Now go to sleep.”

Mum leaves the room, and the linen closet creaks open. She comes back into the room with a thick crocheted blanket she made and tosses it to the bed.

“What's going on?” Rey mutters outside the door as they shuffle away to the bedroom on the other side of the mobile home.

“I’m not sure, I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

I’m a lying piece of shit. I’d be lucky to meet a friend down at the gates of hell because that’s exactly where I’m going.

Guilt washes over me and drowns me until somehow my eyes close, and I fall asleep.

Blackness envelops me and my brain goes dark.

For those hours nothing touches me, not a single thought, and I wish it lasted longer.

When my eyes unfasten, it feels like I only got five minutes of sleep.

Cicadas buzz outside the window. The blinds in the room sway back and forth, and it must be well past noon when I pull myself off the bed. I’m still in Charlie’s dress, and it’s saturated with sweat and sleep. I throw it over my head and toss it to the corner.

Sneaking out of the room, I slip into the bathroom to shower and wash off everything. With a loofah, I scrub the sins coating me like a black plague until my skin turns raw. I can’t stomach looking at myself in the mirror without feeling disgusted with who I am.

I get dressed and go into the kitchen where Rey made a batch of bread and eggs.

He plops a bunch on a paper plate and hands it to me.

I mumble my thanks and open a drawer with clean forks.

My mouth waters as I sit down on one of the bar stools and stuff my face.

It’s mushy and gooey. A weird combination of being similar to French toast but without the cinnamon and sugar.

Mum comes back into the trailer with the stench of nicotine on her skin. “It’s almost noon. Do you feel any better?”

“I dunno...” I fiddle with the breaded egg concoction then imagine the food as Brittni and Brody and stab the fork right into it like I’d do with their eyes.

“I figured you’d never want to step foot in this house again,” Mum says.

“I thought so too.” I scrap the fork against the paper plate. A creepy stranger touching you without permission will do that, but I don’t say those words.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m just stupid, Mum. Just really, really stupid. I’ve never let a boy get in between me and Charlie, but I did.” The fork falls onto the counter and I dig my nails into my scalp.

“A boy?” Mum leans her head back with her nose pinched up. “Who?”

“Sebastian...”

“Payton Renee Bailey,” She scolds, her eyes fluttering as she crosses her arms over her chest. “What? That is worse than going after her ex. You’re into the Henderson boy? Dear lord, are you sleeping with him? Are you using protection? Please don’t tell me you are pregnant.”

“No, I'm not sleeping with him!” The truth refuses to leak off my lips to my own mother.

This is at much as I want to fess up to her, anything else is social suicide.

One word about Roulette and she would commit arson on the entire building and live happily in a jail cell with the type of revenge she craves. “I just hate living in the dorms.”

“You can’t ditch a day in college because you are having boy drama. You are not in high school anymore. They will drop you so quickly if you don’t pull your head out of your ass.”

“It’s not that simple!” I snap back, biting my bottom lip.

I’m not even hungry anymore. Bile swims in my throat, and I want to tell her about Roulette.

How guys at the college are predators and it’s not what I expected it to be.

“I thought fitting in was hard in high school, but this is just really different.”

“Well, fall break is in October. You know you can stay here and get away for a while.”

“I know.”

“We can go find you a nice car if you go get your license.”

“That would be nice,” I say as I stare at the bread and eggs that are now turning cold.

“I don’t want you to throw this all away for a boy. You won’t have another chance to be in college. Tonight, you need to pull yourself together. I’ll drive you back up there after dinner.”

“Okay...” I say.

When I finished eating, I lay on the couch watching a weird documentary Mum put on the television to drown out the white noise.

After a while, she turns it to the news where I stare at all the awful things they say about the reality of our grim world.

The anchors are obnoxious as they debate, screaming and shouting to overpower the other with their opinions.

It turns to white noise and I pass out for several more hours.

The sun is low when I wake up, and Mum is packing me dinner in a Tupperware container, telling me to gather my things so she can drive me back before it’s too late. Astigmatism wrecks her eyes when it gets dark, and there is about an hour left of daylight.

The entire drive back, I’m chewing off my thumbnail as Mum lays into me about safe sex practices like putting the condom on the banana, all about STDs, and the glory that comes with unsafe sex in general.

I bite my tongue like she’s taught me to do and listen, never mind that I already know all of this stuff anyway.

My stomach hurts as she pulls up to the dorms and I forget how to breathe.

I could tell her now about the stranger grabbing me and my skin crawling in fear of coming across him again.

But once more, like Charlie, I can’t muster up the correct words.

Mum pecks me on the cheeks, pushing me out of the car door.

Regret floods into me as I wave goodbye to her instead of running after the car to tell her I’m terrified.

I climb out and make the dreadful steps back up to the room. When I unlock the door, it’s empty. Charlie’s side remains untouched – it doesn’t look like she came back either.

I sit on the edge of the bed staring at the phone I left off all day long.

My chest is on fire as I hold down the side buttons, turning the damn thing on.

My mind is a prison, and the voices in my head whisper all the awful things that will pop up on my notifications.

Luckily, there isn’t another message from Brody.

I open up my social media, skimming through the posts. Naomi, Brittni, and Autumn were drinking last night with Brody and a bunch of other douchebags. Their pictures litter the feed with what feels like a million comments and hearts. Why does everyone like them? They are disgusting and horrible.

I throw the phone on the bed and unplug my laptop from the charger.

I drowned out my evening by completing assignments I procrastinated on since I skipped class, and I missed practice.

Once I finish, it’s a little past nine. The sky seeps into darkness, and it starts to sink in that Charlie won’t be coming back tonight.

She might as well pack her things and go move in with Noah at this rate.

I slide into my shoes and leave the room wearing a baggy t-shirt and a pair of shorts. The night air is crisp as I stroll down the sidewalk, walking the long and lonely route to get to Ryder’s. When I get there, I stand on the lawn, my eyes glued to the orange glow from the lamp in his room.

The grass is soft beneath my footsteps as I reach the window and lean against the wood paneling of the house. Ryder’s at his desk, his hair ruffled as he types and taps on the mouse pad.

The window is cracked open. My nervous system is in overdrive, and I’m trying to convince myself he doesn’t want me here, or maybe it’s me trying to convince myself I don’t want to be here.

I’m the obnoxious fly buzzing around everyone’s face that needs to be swatted at.

My thoughts tell me I’m invading his space.

I’m not acting like a normal, sane human being and ringing the doorbell.

In fact, I should be waiting for him to invite me over, but my hands are planting me against the wall.

I bite my bottom lip and curl my fingers around the window, pushing it up. Ryder’s lips lay flat as he turns his head. His eyes glaze over, and there is a glass and a bottle of Hennessy sitting next to his computer.

“Aren’t we a little old to be sneaking in?” He asks with a brow lifting, but sadness molds across him as he drags the glass off the desk and takes a swig.

“Do you want me to leave?” I ask.

“No... get in here.”