“That’s all you sweetie. Just make it good for me, alright?” He says to me. I laugh and tell him sure. I get to work making his pizza, happy at the unexpected tip I just made.
I go to the high-top counter where the pizzas are made and begin the process. I cut the dough and begin pressing it out with my fingers. Every time I look up, the guy from the register is smiling at me and making eye contact. It’s a little distracting, but I’ve made so many pizzas that the steps of pizza-making are almost engrained into my body and mind. As I put his pizza into the oven, I feel his eyes on my back and try to act like I don’t know he’s staring at me.
I’ve been with a lot men. I know it’s bad, but once you start really having a lot of sex, it’s hard to stop. So many guys promise so many things, and seem so sweet, but then end up fucking you over. They say that women who are promiscuous have daddy issues. I guess that makes sense for me as my Dad walked out on my Mom and me when I was only a little girl. He’s such a bastard.
When the pizza is done cooking, I box it up and walk it towards the counter. The guy, smiling and laughing, walks up to me. I laugh back at him over nothing. He’s so dumb. As I hand him his pizza, he says to me,
“So a buddy of mine is having a house party tonight over on the north side of town. I was thinking maybe you could come too? If you’re into that kind of thing. Here’s my number anyway.” He hands me an old receipt with his name and number scribbled on it. I laugh and say,
“OK, yeah that sounds fun! I’ll see what my girlfriends are doing tonight.” He laughs slightly and half-smiles.
“Text me.” He says, and he turns and leaves the store.
I take my time cleaning and closing the store. I enjoy the stillness of the shop after the doors are locked and the open sign is turned off. I lose myself in my thoughts; thinking about all the ways I’ve fucked up in the past. How could I ever live honestly given all that I’ve done?
As I lock the front door, and start down the street, I pull out my phone and check it; still no messages. I stare at my phone for a few moments and then decide. I pull out the receipt and type in the guy’s number from earlier. I then send him a message: “Hey you”.
When I was little, I went to a public elementary school on the east side of town. I have a few memories of being there: the classes and the activities. It was before my Dad fucked us over. It was before my purity was crushed by the heavy handed dominance of masculinity.
I can remember the classroom where we had art activities. It was on a lower level of the school. It was a small room with concrete floors. It was hidden behind a door painted bright blue. All of the children, including myself, loved going to art class the most.
One day in art class, we were given clay to mold into any kind of pottery of our choosing. I don’t know why, but I built two towers. They were the most beautiful and tall moldings in the entire class. I loved them like they represented something about me; like I was special, unique, and had something magnificent to offer the world.
After we had finished making our clay structures, we had to leave them for two days to cook and dry in the kiln. We were all excited to see our new creations. It was all we talked about.
During one of the days of waiting, all of the children were out on the playground for free play. We were all running around, screaming and laughing, and climbing and jumping. There were two twin brothers, whose first names I do not recall, because they were always referred to by their last name: “Freeman”. The brothers approached me and told me that my towers had been destroyed. They were smashed in the art room, crushed by a ball that was thrown by another boy, Amir.
I ran into the classroom and was devastated at what I saw. My two towers laid in a pile of rubble on one of the art room tables. I cried and cried. The symbolic structures of my incredible worth to the world sat before me smashed and in ruin.
A boy named Daniel stood beside me as I cried. Daniel was the biggest, strongest, and most popular boy in our entire class. He had heard what the Freeman brothers had said. He grew angry at Amir. He was consumed with a desire for retribution, to make this atrocity right.
Daniel exited the art room, and ran the great distance to the sandboxes on the mideastern side of the playground. There, he found Amir sitting alone. Daniel attacked him: pushing him to the ground, and punching and kicking him. Amir stood no chance in the fight. Daniel was by far bigger and stronger. Everyone who watched knew that.
Daniel was suspended from school for three days because of what he did. He stood by his actions though. In childish ignorance, he maintained a hatred for Amir. Most of the class went along with Daniel, fearing and ostracizing the foreign boy.
Later on, it became rumor that Amir hadn’t really smashed my towers at all. It was said that the Freeman brothers had shoved fire crackers into the clay moldings and set them off. Without the school disciplining the Freemans, and with Daniel so fervently sticking to his actions, the rumor remained just that: a rumor. No one dared to speak it out loud.
I remember later that day, I was walking to the bus stop to ride home from school. As I travelled down the sidewalk, I saw a familiar car. It was my father’s car. As the car zoomed into view, I saw my Dad in the front seat. In the passenger side was woman whom I didn’t know. She was pretty and blonde. I remember waving at the car as it passed me, expecting my father to stop and pick me up. He just never looked at me though, and kept on driving.
I realized later that he was probably having an affair with the woman with him. I doubt that he was ever faithful at all to my Mom. It wasn’t much later that they got divorced. He slowly pushed us both out of his life altogether.
I wake up in a stranger’s bed. I try to piece together the night before, but can’t remember much. I remember doing shots at the party and taking a few pain killers that were offered to me. After that, my memory is blurry. I can tell I had sex though.
There’s a man lying beside me in the bed. He’s sprawled out, face-down against the sheets. I slip out of bed and am careful to not stir him. I stand up and feel the cool air of the dark room against my naked body. Looking back to the man in the bed, I recognize him as the guy who came to the store the night before. I search for my phone.
I pick up a phone and realize it is his as I look at the screen. I lose my breath for just one moment as I read the first message on the screen: “I miss you and love you too baby. I’ll see you next weekend.” I want to cry. I’m the slut whom he cheated on his girlfriend with.
In a hurried panic I collect my clothes and things which are thrown all across the floor of the room. I want to get out of here as quickly as possible. After I’m dressed, I head to the door to exit the room and take one more glance back at the man in the bed. He’s snoring slightly and sleeping soundly, probably exhausted from taking me last night.
I start crying on the drive home. I can’t keep doing this. I don’t even know how my car ended up at that apartment complex. The early morning light makes me feel sick. The veins in my arms are sunken in, and my body is shaking. At a stop light, I pull up on the neck of my shirt to wipe the tears from my eyes and see a large bruise right above my left breast. It’s a bite mark and it makes me cry even harder.
My self-loathing thoughts are interrupted by my phone ringing. It’s my Mom. I hold in my tears and slow my breathing as I answer and talk to her. I forgot that it’s Sunday and I’m supposed to meet her at church. I tell her that I’ll have to run home and change, but then I’ll come over to go with her. She asks me where I’m coming from and I have to lie. I say that I stayed at one of my girlfriend’s apartments last night.
I calm down a bit after talking to my Mom and turn on the stereo in my car. After switching through a few channels on the radio, I find a song I like. It’s that hit song Alien Abduction. The rhythmic beats slow down my mind. I feel better letting the song take me over. I start moving back and forth, dancing while I’m driving. I sing along to the lyrics.
“You’re from the heavens
And I’m on the ground