Tongue Kiss the Chocolate off my Stomach

Clio

"Clio. Where the hell is Jace?" Mama demands, swinging my door open. It's four in the morning, her eyes look freaked out, and her tense posture screams STRESS.

I open one eye, thankful for an excuse to get out of bed. Unfortunately, I haven't slept a wink. My body has been too wired, too excited. And why? That's a good question.

"Gone," I answer, voice cracking. I keep my head basically buried under the covers because I've been crying. "He won't answer my calls. Or texts."

She takes a deep breath. "Clio.... Why didn't you tell me?"

What's the point? "That's a good question," I reply, closing my eyes again.

"Clio," she growls.

Oh, I'm shaking in my bones. "If he goes, he goes. We can't do nothin' about it, okay? Jace is a full grown man by now. If he wants to go, let him." I sniffle.

Oh I'm such a tit.

"When you stay in my house, you go by my rules," she announces flatly. "And what's your problem? You usually care about the Boy." Her voice is concerned.

I dig myself deeper under the covers. "YOU DON'T JUST KISS A GIRL LIKE THAT AND DON'T RESPOND TO HER AFTER, MAMA," I say. I don't even know why I'm upset. Not like I didn't know what Jace is all about. He's women, women, women.

Play women. Have sex with women. Leave women.

"Did you kiss him?"

"He kissed ME." I sniffle again. I'm irritated more than anything with myself for getting so upset. I KNEW this would happen. And I don't even like Jace anyway.

The bed rustles, and suddenly my mom is laying down next to me, rubbing my back. "Both of us know nothing good is coming out of Jace."

I shrug. "Yeah. But I don't like him anyway."

"Don't make any sense lying to yourself, Clio. You've always been a sensible girl. That's why I love having you around."

Oh. Not because I'm your daughter or anything, Mom. But because I'm sensible. Maybe I should call Jace and run away with him.

"And, honestly, sweetheart, if a guy runs away from you after you kiss him, I'm sure he's not the one for you anyway."

I pull the covers down from my face. "It wasn't because of the kiss, Mama! He called me Tina.... Like, who even is that?"

"I'm not at liberty to tell you," she says. "I suggest you wait until Jace says something about it."

I roll my eyes.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, Clio. I understand you're upset, but you're still my child, and I won't tolerate you acting like that."

I heave a big breath. "Did you come here to fuss at me, ask me where Jace is, or try to convince me my dad isn't a piece of shit?" I hide back under my covers where it's warm and comfortable. Forget this.

She doesn't respond to me, instead opting to leave my room, irritated. Ah well. Nobody is more upset than I am right now.

I reach over and check my phone. Nope. Still nothing. I try texting him again.

JACE, JUST LET ME KNOW YOU'RE ALIVE.

I'm so stupid. I shouldn't even be worried. It's not like he'd worry about me if I was gone. That would be too much like caring for somebody other than himself. But I have to worry a little bit. Otherwise my mom can lose her job.

And if she loses her job, we'll be poor, and she'll be unhappy without having boys in the house. And I'll be miserable too. And what if I have to stay with Dad?

I still haven't forgive him for what he did. He left me in a drug-dealer's house so the cops wouldn't catch him. Now, if he had come back for me, it would've been okay. But I was eleven, I was scared, and I had to stay there with strange, high, and horny men for three days--until the cops finally located me, thanks to an "anonymous" call. Thankfully, I was fine except for the fear,'shock, and hungriness I felt.

But you can't fool around with the psychological damage. I had to keep a knife with me so the men wouldn't come closer. And my dad--who I didn't even know at the time, but only identified him as the guy who basically kidnapped me in front of the school--was no better then. He tried to make me feel better by making some excuses about how I had to listen to him, but I didn't hear a word he said. I was too busy wondering if anybody would miss me when I died. And the worst part? Mom never did press charges.

I wipe my eyes.

My phone buzzes then, vibrating my whole bed. Jace's number appears on my phone. I hurry to answer it, fumbling it around.

IM OKAY; NOW STOP USING CAPITALS.

My heart comes back to my chest, where it's supposed to be. Oh thank God he's okay.

My fingers hover above the keyboard, not sure what to text back.

'If you need anything, just tell me', I decide on.

There's no response immediately, and then, 'I need you to leave me alone.'

Anger--and some wounded pride--bubble up inside of me. I clench my teeth together.

Alright, you bastard, two can play at that game.  

<3 <3 <3 <3

I drag my weary behind out of bed at seven in the morning. I don't evenbother putting on something cute or combing my hair. Instead, I throw my hair up in a messy bun, and throw on a t-shirt over my sweatpants. The bags under my eyes scream that I'm sleepless, but, again, I could care less.

The drive to school is lonely and way too long. It's weird going from having somebody in the car to being by yourself. I've always rode with someone else. 

I grimace, passing by my school. Nope. I really don't feel like going today. I keep driving past my school, and straight out of my town in general. What I need is a good day out? A day that includes me, lots of junk food, and some kind of sport.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Unfortunately for me, the first person I meet up with is my dad. He's playing basketball in the park with a group of grown men. They're all whooping and hollaring, basically enjoying their little pick-up game of basketball. 

I sigh, dribbling my basketball and choosing to ignore him.

My shot clangs off the side of the goal. I go and retrieve it, trying again. Phsyical work doesn't exhaust me, but it makes me focus on other things for a while. 

Dad doesn't even notice me. 

I dribble up to the goal and do a lay-up. My heart is already pounding, but I haven't worked up a sweat yet. Chalk that up the cool weather.

I mess around with the ball, dribbling between my legs, doing some spiders--really difficult handle drill--and practicing getting my shot up quickly. Since I'm going to be playing with extremely tall boys, I feel like I should be able to shoot it better, or get my shot blocked every single time.

"WATCH OUT."

I turn around in time to catch a basketball to my face. I stumble backwards before landing on my butt.

Ouch.

I feel hands on my shoulders. "Clio, you alright?"

Dad.

Am I alright? No matter how bad I've ever felt, I've never willingly skipped school. I've never felt like the world was just a little too heavy this morning. And I've definitely never lost sleep over a guy.

So am I alright?

"No."