embedded in my head that my nose twitched as the walls of my present home fell away, replaced by dingy wallpaper and dirt smeared windows. I could feel the crusty shag carpeting against my knees and taste the faded cigarette smoke lacing the air. And suddenly I was home again.
* * *
I cowered in the corner as my mother waled on Kenny with a book in the next room. We were all teenagers, and in my mom’s head that made us each fair game for her belligerent drunken tirades, which usually ended with someone getting struck.
Kenny, although closest in age to me, was bigger and could take a wallop. He often took the brunt of her abuse to protect me. If I kept quiet, she might forget I was still home.
“I told you it was gettin’ late and now look what you’ve done!”
“The bus was early!” my brother screamed. “I left the same time I always do.”
“I ain’t got no way to take you to school, Kenneth! The truant officer’s gonna be back.”
“Let him come! I ain’t ever gonna graduate anyway!”
The book hit the wall, and I flinched.
“Get outside! Avery Dean, I gotta get the neighbor to drive your brother to school. Do not miss your bus. You hear?”
“Y—yes, Momma.” The front door slammed, and I quickly gathered my backpack, rushing out the door the moment they were out of sight. But I didn’t go to no bus stop. I had bigger, more important things to do.
I rushed down the back path and hopped the fence, moving quick, so the neighbor’s pit bull didn’t cause a fuss. My heart raced faster with each yard I cut through until I finally made it.
The sight of the rusted trailer with its siding held on by dry rotted strips of duct tape calmed my racing heart. He said he kept it that way, so people didn’t suspect he had anything nice enough to steal inside, which made him smart.
I knocked on the rickety screen door, and it rattled against the frame.
“Who is it?”
“Avery.”
The door flung open, and Gavin looked down at me. My gaze traveled up his body to his bare, muscled chest. He was so strong yet so delicate. “Come in.”
I quickly slipped inside and tossed my books on the cluttered bench seat. “I have the form, and I forged my mom’s signature.”
“It’s seven-thirty in the morning, Avery Dean.”
Wringing my hands, I gave him a pleading look. “Please, Gavin. The deadline’s Friday and this is my only hope of ever getting out of here. I’ll do whatever you want. I just have to get it turned in.”
His scowl softened. “If this doesn’t work, you have other options.”
This had to work. He was leaving, and I’d never survive this place alone. “Please.”
He sighed. “Go ahead. The computer’s on. Just wiggle the mouse.”
Relieved, I smiled and rushed to the back bedroom where he kept his desktop. Gavin was the only one in Blackwater who had such technology. He was also the only one I trusted, being that he’d always been tight with my oldest brother, Drew—the only sibling to ever show me kindness.
I jostled the mouse and the screen lit. There it was, the scholarship essay that was going to get me the hell out of this shithole town once and for all.
When I’d first shown Gavin my scribbled draft, he tried not to be too critical, but we were never able to hide things from each other.
“You can’t send this. Let me toy with it for a while, and it has to be typed.” He’d spent weeks helping me polish my essay until we were both confident it might win.
Most guys wouldn’t offer such help, but Gavin was different. He didn’t make me blow him or fuck him for his assistance either. He was a little more complicated than that. In exchange for his help on that essay and many other things, I let him touch me, put his mouth on me, fondle and pleasure me.
I gave Gavin what he needed, and he gave me things I never expected to want. In his home, I was free. I was powerful. I was wanted.
I scrolled through the document, noting the various improvements he’d made. Not only was his vocabulary better than mine, he had everything formatted with proper headings and all the required important information.
The essay—How My Family Changed the Way I See the World—was perfect. It was raw and honest and almost painful to read at parts, boasting the right amount of drive