GIL’S LETTER SAID he would be at Roaster’s Tavern at noon. It was two towns away and Jenny had to take the bus again. She’d insisted on a Saturday so she wouldn’t have to skip school. She told Linda she was going to Mallory’s house. Mallory was one of the only friends Linda approved of for Jenny, which was ironic after what Jenny had seen yesterday.
Roaster’s Tavern had no windows, and Jenny wondered if that was a calculated move by Gil. She had never been inside. Her parents wouldn’t be caught dead there. The only reason Jenny knew of the place was because it was down the road from where she got her spray tans before pageants. Did Gil know that?
She opened the door and took two steps inside, waiting for her eyes to adjust. Once the door shut behind her, mustard-tinted overhead lights were all there was. The hostess stand was abandoned for reasons other than a crowd. The place was dead.
Jenny ventured into the main dining area. It was full of booths with cracked dark navy leather upholstery. Still no sign of any employees. At a table in the corner, a man sat with a young girl sipping on a soda. Jenny’s stomach churned at the sight. Was this place pedophile-friendly? What had she walked into?
Maybe it was just a deadbeat dad doing his monthly duty. They weren’t talking, so that could very well be the case. She’d always thought of pedophiles as probably quite charming, not prone to long bouts of silence. That’s how you hunt animals, not children. Children like attention.
With no visible staff and one potential pervert, she wondered who would help her if things with Gil went south. She had thought a public place would be safe. She’d felt so smart requesting they meet in public. She should have picked the place. Lesson learned.
Before Jenny could fully comprehend the seriousness of the situation and bolt, an arm emerged from a booth across the room, followed by a smiling face as the man stood for her attention.
“Jenny,” he said, waving.
First impression was everything. He wasn’t old. She’d thought he would be old for some reason. He seemed to be around Virginia’s age. He had small glasses and greasy hair that was shellacked over his forehead. Under a patchy mustache, his big grin seemed friendly enough. As she got closer, the acne scars became prominent. He was an oily guy. On numerous occasions Linda lectured Jenny on skin care, never too dry but never, ever oily.
“Jenny.” He continued grinning like they were old friends.
“Hi,” she managed.
He leaned a shoulder toward her, considering a hug, but when she didn’t reciprocate, he yanked it back and motioned for her to join him in the booth.
She slid in across from him and waited. He wrung his sweaty hands together, leaning toward her, glowing. Benjy used to act like this, but Benjy was special, slow and harmless.
“I’m so glad you wanted to meet.” Gil kept grinning, so many visible teeth.
“Sure. Was it a long drive?” Jenny wanted the small talk to last forever. She was afraid of where the conversation would lead if it didn’t.
“No, not too bad. What about you? How did you get here?”
“My friend drove me.” Jenny wanted a fictional person lurking around who would notice if she disappeared.
“I could have picked you up. It would have been no trouble.”
She just smiled. That would never happen.
“Do you want something to eat? The service here is awful, but the food is pretty good.” He strained his neck around, looking for the waitress, becoming increasingly agitated when he couldn’t find her, and his teeth retreated back behind a scowl. “I’m sorry, it’s really inexcusable.” He stood to get a better look around.
“It’s OK,” Jenny said. “I’m not hungry.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
He sat back down, returning all of his attention to her. “I forgot, I brought you something.” He reached into his messenger bag and pulled out a jewelry box and handed it to her.
Jenny took the box. A present.
“Go ahead, open it.”
Jenny flipped it open, revealing a thin gold chain with a heart charm. A heart. What was he trying to say? That he loved her? Her face wrinkled.
“Sorry, I should explain. Benjy told me you didn’t want to do pageants anymore. I thought this would remind you to always follow your heart.” He barely got the words out. He was nervous. He was trying so hard to impress her. She wished JP would learn a thing or two from this guy.
“Thank you,” she said, and she meant it, slipping the box into her pocket.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m so glad you wrote to me, but what made you want to meet? I didn’t even think you knew who I was.”
Jenny hesitated, but she’d have to speak up sooner or later. It was going well so far. He seemed sweet. Just a lonely guy like Benjy. These men made her feel like a celebrity. She held all the cards. They would do anything for her.
“Benjy thought you might be able to help me,” she said, looking down at the table.
“What kind of help?”
“I need money.”
He scoffed, forcing her to look up.
“You need money?” he repeated for effect, then rolled his eyes.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He smiled, but it was a different smile. It was smug, less teeth. “You’re thirteen years old. What could you possibly need?”
“I don’t want to say.”
“I can buy you presents. We can meet together more, get to know each other. I will make it worth your while.”
“No, I just need money, five thousand dollars. I need it soon, but we can still see each other.” She scooted forward in her seat, debating reaching out to take his hands. That would work on Benjy, but she was hesitant to make physical contact with Gil.
“I thought you liked me.” He shook his head. She was losing him.
“I do.”
“I should have known better,” he said to himself. “Out of the blue, you contact me. I’m so stupid.” He crossed his arms, pouting like a child.
“I’m sorry, this was a mistake.” Jenny slid out of the booth, and he grabbed her arm, jolting her back. She could see her own reflection in his glasses. Past her own face, his dark eyes narrowed.
“You want money?” he hissed. “You want five thousand dollars from me?”
“No, it’s OK, I’m so sorry.”
His hand gripped her forearm. His elbow was locked. He could hold her there forever if he wanted to. “Are you a virgin, Jenny?”
She tried not to answer, but he squeezed her arm, forcing it out of her. “Yes.” Her eyes burned in anticipation of tears.
“Give me your virginity and I’ll give you the money,” he said, holding her there as the horror crept over her face. When a ridge of tears gathered on her eyelids, he changed his tune and released her arm. “Sorry.”
It was too late. Jenny didn’t waste another second as she turned and sprinted through the empty booths and out of the tavern, praying he wouldn’t follow her.
THE BUS RIDE home felt the longest yet. How could she have been so stupid? She was lucky she hadn’t been kidnapped, spending the rest of her good-looking years in Gil’s basement.
What was she going to tell JP? She couldn’t tell him the truth—he would think she was stupid for having gone, and he would be right. Jenny didn’t even know if she wanted to run away anymore. What if this was a sign? A sign of what was out there in the real world? She didn’t have it so bad. If she could just get over herself, high school could be great. Her popularity wasn’t too far gone, and she had dirt on Mallory.
If she just sucked it up for five more years, joined cheerleading, and got straight A’s, her parents would get off her back. She could smile. She could pretend it was everything she wanted. JP would probably leave, but so what? He wasn’t the be-all and end-all in her life. She felt weak for letting him get so far into her head. He wasn’t even her boyfriend. He was a jerk who had shown her a little attention. Her desire for attention from older men was going to catch up to her someday, and at this rate, soon.
JENNY ENTERED THE HOUSE from the garage. The sun was on its way down and blasted through the kitchen windows, blinding her.
“Where were you?” Her mother’s voice came from across the room.
Jenny held up her hand to block the sunlight enough to make out Linda’s shadowy figure leaning against the long cabinet, holding a glass of the dark liquor.
Jenny backed toward the door. She wasn’t ready for this. She was at Mallory’s. It was Saturday. Her dad was home. She’d thought she was safe.
“Tell me where you were.” Linda moved into the empty space between them.
“Where’s Dad?” Jenny asked, praying for a savior, knowing he wouldn’t come.
Her mother stepped toward her. “Your father is staying in New York this weekend. He hasn’t done that in six years. Are you proud of yourself? Is it worth being a little shit to drive your father away?” Linda took another step closer to Jenny.
Jenny had no answers. There was no rationalizing with Linda, no explaining maybe it was her he was avoiding. But if Jenny was driving Linda to behave like this, maybe she was to blame.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I’ll be better.”
“Those are just words. What is it that I’ve done to you? You were such a good girl. Your father was so happy. You’re ruining this family and you won’t even tell me why.”
“Please stop freaking out. I’m not ruining anything.”
“You’re upsetting your father. We only get two days. I don’t want him to be upset when he’s here, do you understand?”
“Yeah, I get it,” Jenny said, taking a step to the side, looking to get around her mother, but Linda moved to cut her off.
“We were so close. Why won’t you talk to me anymore?” Linda hung her head, trying for sympathy. “Tell me where you were today.”
“I was at Mallory’s,” Jenny said. She knew Linda must already know that was a lie, but she didn’t have time to rethink her alibi and hoped she’d just accept it. Instead, her mother slapped her across the face.
“You’re lying! You are lying to your mother.”
It stunned Jenny for a second, looking at Linda, feeling the pain in her cheek, wondering if she was hallucinating. As the reality set in, Jenny reached for her face, but her mother yanked her arm away. “If I can’t trust you to leave this house, you won’t leave this house.” With that, she dragged Jenny by her wrists out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and toward her precious pink bedroom.
Linda shoved her daughter inside, slamming the door behind her. Jenny’s stuffed animals stared at her from the floor of the closet as the young girl stood sobbing in the center of her room. She could hear Linda grunting through the wall and the hutch down the hall rattling as her mother yanked it toward her door. It was so heavy, Linda must have been running on pure drunken adrenaline.
The noises came to a stop outside Jenny’s door. It was silent for a moment before Linda went barreling down the stairs. Jenny approached her bedroom door and opened it enough to see the antique hutch completely blocking the doorway, trapping her inside.