New York
My mother was a greedy woman: she wanted a different life for herself. This is the most dangerous, incendiary thing to want. I know because I’ve wanted it, too.
Seventeen and broke, she hitchhiked from West Virginia to New York City. It was the seventies; the city was dirty but also furious and alive. She started working part-time as a waitress, spending nights looking for men; she couldn’t conceive of a way to raise herself up without one. She had no degree, no useful talents, only her looks. And she thought making art was a religion practiced by fools, not a respectable pursuit. Eventually, she found a nice accountant who was unexceptional in every way other than his stability, which was the trait she valued above all else. But he surprised her by knocking her up at eighteen, again at twenty-two, and leaving her for another woman at twenty-three. She decanted her new life into an empty glass, let it breathe, swallowed it. Then poured again.
New York is sweltering. No use wearing clothes. In the hotel room, Wes and I draw the shades, but the sun still proclaims itself through the slits. We have sex in the bed first, then I wrap my legs around his waist and he picks me up, pushing me hard against the wall. I kiss his shoulder, the scatter of freckles there. The silver cross bounces up and down on his chest.
After, the sun still beckons, so we head out to the balcony. I’m wearing his creased basketball jersey and ratty boxers, my oily hair twisted into a loose bun. Wes is shirtless, leaning against the railing. A sunburn on his back is peeling, the skin drooping like dead flowers. We are in various poses of ease. We don’t think we can be photographed from such a height. We don’t know that a man has taken the stairs up fifty flights in the opposite building and pressed his camera against the glass.
We slip the balcony door closed and toss our clothes in a pile again. It is the last time we’ll see each other before he travels to Southeast Asia and I go back on the road, this time with Sol Sister, the R&B duo who hit it big with their song “Blinders.” In a hot bath, I lie between his legs and lean my head against his chest. He sculpts beards onto my face with bubble bath. We order a pizza and I eat two slices. Back to bed. He tackles me and blows a raspberry on my belly. Our damp towels lie discarded on the floor. The television is left on mute. A moment is ours, and then it is taken.
WHY SEXY SELLS
Amber Young begs for controversy with her over-the-top, skimpy looks. Why we think she knows exactly what she’s doing.
Exclusive photos! AMBER’S AFFAIR: SEDUCING WES KINGSTON IN NYC!
AMBER AND WES’S BETRAYAL: The heartbreaking moment Gwen Morris found out
Gwen Morris and Wes Kingston BREAK UP!
INSIDE AMBER’S GRIP ON WES: His bandmates are worried!
GWEN VS. AMBER
• What Gwen really thinks
• They can’t even be in the same room together!
• Turning to Savannah behind the scenes