You Let Me In - Camilla Bruce Page 0,27

lips pressed together, my eyes filled with tears. Inside me, a shrieking howl began to build as my castle of dreams shattered.

Pepper-Man’s arm draped over my shoulders. “What do you want to do now?” he whispered inside my head.

I pulled him with me off the path, in among the trees. I didn’t want Tommy to see me yet, as if disturbing them in the act made me lesser, somehow.

Between the tall trees, I lifted my red skirt over my hips, inviting Pepper-Man inside. A petty and useless revenge, I know, especially since it was only Pepper-Man, but at least it kept me from screaming. I imagined that I heard the other two moaning while Pepper-Man was inside me, but that could just have been me. I was backed up against a tree, legs curled around Pepper-Man’s waist. The rough trunk was bruising my backside and my panties on the ground were swarming with ants. When I climaxed, I hoped that was the end of it and that the anger and hurt would leave with the release, but when Pepper-Man lowered me down to my feet, I was still as furious and broken as before.

“What do you want to do now?” he asked again, licking my blood off his lips.

“We wait,” I said, edging closer to the love spot through the greenery. My back ached from the rough tree bark, my thighs were slick with fluids. I left the ant-infested underwear behind on the ground.

Peeking in on the love spot between the branches, I could see that Tommy Tipp was also quite done. He was zipping up his jeans. Annie’s mother was hooking her bra back in place. Her face was slack and flushed, she looked sated.

Tommy was standing a little away from her; looking in another direction. Already done with Annie’s mother, I thought. He picked up his leather jacket from the ground and fished around in the pockets for his cigarettes—he always did that after. The familiarity of those movements drove daggers into my broken heart. It was him, it was really him—my Tommy—who had betrayed me.

I waited until they left the love spot and entered the winding path. Tommy walked first, smoking. She followed in tow, buttoning her shirt. Neither of them spoke to the other. Maybe there was nothing to say.

I stepped onto the path before them, hurt and anger bubbling up.

“How could you?!” I asked, my face twisting up when I began to cry.

“Cassie…” He came to a halt before me, eyes confused, mouth slack.

“How could you do that to me?” I wailed, deep sobs ripping from my chest.

“But Cassie—” He tried to put a hand on my shoulder, which I briskly brushed away. I took a few steps back, fighting the powerful sobs that kept coming, fueled by rage and disappointment.

“You were supposed to be the one, you were the one who would take me away!”

“I better leave,” said Annie’s mother, brushing past us, touching his shoulder lightly with her fingertips. I wanted to smack her. Hard.

“Cassie,” he said again, after she’d left. He placed a hand on each of my shoulders, tried to catch my gaze with his. “I’ve never promised you anything.” His eyes were sincere. “I’ve never said I’d take you anywhere. We just had some fun, that’s all.”

“But I thought we were in love.” My voice was still wailing, snot and tears streamed down my face.

Tommy Tipp laughed. He laughed. “I don’t even think you know what that means, Cassie. And even though I like you, I like other women, too.”

He made me feel so stupid then. It hadn’t even occurred to me that he shared that kind of intimacy with someone else. I had taken exclusivity for granted.

“Look,” he said. “It’s not like you don’t see other guys. I can feel it sometimes, when I’m inside you, that someone has been there, and recently. But you’ve never heard me complain.”

“That’s different,” I sobbed, drying my tears with the back of my hand, and then with the hem of my skirt.

“How is that different?” His voice was slightly annoyed. “And don’t give me that talk about your ‘invisible friends,’ we both know that’s just lies. If you are having a good time, at least you should own up to it.”

“Like you do?” I still held the skirt hem in my hands.

“Like I do,” he replied, and then he saw it all. “Why are you naked?” He had caught sight of my lack of underwear, the moist trails on my thighs. “Were