Tongue Kiss the Chocolate off my Stomach

Jace

She's not Tina....

The thought flies through my head as I walk down the street. I can still taste Clio. She tastes like... being saved. That's the only way to describe it. Clio tastes like she's going to save me. She's my life boat to the drowning.

And I can't have that.

I thought Tina would save me, too. Tina was just as amazing as Clio is. Tina shown bright. And look what she did to me. When I couldn't even protect myself.

But Clio won't hurt you...

Yes she will. Women hurt men all the time. Or other women. Children. Women are worthless, selfless bitches. We need women for their bodies. Not anything else. Women can't hold intelligent conversations with you. You can't have a woman best friend, unless she likes other women. Women only want thing--personal pleasure. They want by way of your body, or your money, but they don't want you. Some women--my mom--would just as soon sell their child for drug money.

Somebody honks at me.

I wave a hand but keep moving. I have to get out of here. Away from Clio. "I'll go back to my dad as long as I don't have to stay here," I mutter aloud.

My skin feels dirty.

Showers won't help. Forgiveness won't help. I forgave Tina for doing that. But I still feel her skin on me, feel her broken promises. No matter how much I shover.

I can get rid of Clio, though. I don't need another woman in my life. Especially not one that wants me to do better. I can deal with Kayla. She loves me because she knows I have money. She wants me for only one thing, possibly two: money and sex.

.She doesn't know that one day the sex won't happen anymore, and my dad hates me. He gives my mom the money--or, rather, he gives whatever bitch is taking care of me the money. Fuck my feelings. Fuck what I need.

I'm not sure where I'm going until I get there--the bus stop. I have to leave before I say something I regret.

***

The bus pulls up to a station, about four hours away. My phone is dead, filled with about 80 text messages, and eighteen voicemails, 92 missed calls. All from Clio. All saying the same thing.

I'm sorry, Jace. 

Why would Clio be sorry? I don't try to tell her any different. Let her think it's her. Maybe they'll let me go. I've learned my lesson. At least until I graduate. 

I've heard apologies before either way. Apologies don't mean a thing to anyone. It's words to make people forgive you for the bad you've done until you've done it again. I've said it plenty times before--I'm sorry I got your daughter pregnant and made her get an abortion.... but I'm not sorry I fucked her, sir. She was a good lay.

I frown, stepping off the bus. My bag thumps against my shoulder. It contains $500, three pairs of clothes, and an extra pair of shoes. My mom could be gone for all I know. She wouldn't tell me either way. And maybe my dad might welcome a visit from me. As long as all my "fucking tattoos" are covered up, and my hair is "cut like a man, not like a twink."

Can't do shit around him. The only thing he's ever liked that I did was my sleeping patterns. Girl today, different girl tomorrow. Don't stay too long, son. That's how bastard kids like you get born. And a woman that wants nothing but your money. But don't worry. You'll see soon enough.

Dad, what's a bastard kid?

You, son. An unwanted child. 

Fuck him. I'm not unwanted. Every bitch that's had her hands on me has wanted me. I made sure of it. Every push-up, every sit-up, every weight I lifted. It all went to a flattened stomach, evetually a six pack. Making sure I looked amazing. Girls want me. Hell, some boys want me to (but I don't want them, fyi). I'll never be unwanted.

"Hey, sexy. You look frustrated. I can help that," a voice says that from the side of me. A blonde barbie puts her skinny hand on my bicep. She has on a tight shirt that pushes up what can only be B's. She's small. I can break her. 

I will break her.

"Oh, really?" I say calmly, looking down at her. Her face is heavily made-up, and she looks like a troll under it, I'm sure of it. 

She nods, sliding her hand further up. "I'm 23."

Perfect.

"Mmm, nice." I start to walk away. Sshe follows after me. I notice the way she nervously scratches her arm. 

"You have a girlfriend?"

"No." I think about Kayla. Fuck buddy, yes. Girlfriend, no. And then Clio lingers slightly in my mind. Not my girlfriend. Pain in the ass, yes. Girlfriend, no.

She grins. "Good. My name is Mia."

She keeps following me. I'm not sure about it. But then again, I am. "You have anything?"

She smiles, proud. "Nope! Went to the Clinic yesterday. I'm all clean." Taking my question as acception to her unasked question, she slips her hand into my mines.

I don't even argue with it.

Fuck you, Dad, I'm wanted.