Chapter 31: Street corner
The neon sign of a pawn shop across the street buzzed, flickering a sickly pink over the cracked sidewalk. Mark walked, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, the image of the motel alley and the taste of Amy’s kiss like a film over his eyes, a poison on his tongue. He’d walked for blocks, not knowing where he was going, just needing to move.
Then he saw them.
Under the flickering light of a bus stop, they stood like a distorted reflection. Amy, in a black lace corset that strained over her breasts and a red vinyl miniskord so short it was a mere belt, her fishnet-clad legs ending in towering platform heels. And beside her, his sister Jenny. Jenny, who used to wear overalls and band t-shirts, whose hair was now in two high, childish pigtails, each tied with a bright pink bow. She wore a plaid micro-skirt even shorter than Amy’s, and a white crop top that read ‘DADDY’S LITTLE SLUT’ in glittering script.
They were twirling tiny, sequined purses on their wrists, hips cocked, firing off suggestive glances at the slow-moving traffic. A pickup truck rolled by, and they both giggled, Amy blowing a kiss.
Mark’s feet carried him forward before his mind could catch up. The world narrowed to the two of them, standing under that buzzing light. The protein shake. The study group. It all crystallized into this one, horrifying moment.
“Amy? Jenny?” His voice was a dry crackle.
They spun around, their faces a perfect synchronized mask of surprise. “Mark!” Amy chirped, recovering first. “Oh my god, what a crazy coincidence!”
“What are you doing here?” Jenny asked, her voice a high, airy thing that was nothing like her own.
Mark’s eyes traveled from the tops of their pigtails down to the obscene height of their heels, taking in the acres of exposed skin, the deliberate, professional posture. “Why…” He swallowed, the words feeling like glass. “Why are you dressed like… that?”
Amy’s laugh was a light, tinkling bell. “Like what, silly? We’re just going out for a night on the town!” She struck a pose, one hand on her hip. “Do you like it? It’s my new ‘going out’ look.”
“Yeah,” Jenny echoed, swaying slightly. “We’re just, like, feeling ourselves tonight. You know?”
A beat-up sedan, its paint dulled by grime, pulled up to the curb. The window rolled down, revealing a middle-aged man with a gaunt face and hungry eyes. “You girls looking for a good time?” he asked, his voice a low gravel.
“Always!” Amy trilled, without even looking at Mark.
“We were just leaving,” Jenny added, reaching for the door handle.
“No,” Mark said, his hand shooting out to grab Amy’s arm. It was cold beneath his fingers. “Amy, don’t. This isn’t you. This isn’t either of you.”
Amy looked down at his hand on her arm as if it were a strange insect. She peeled his fingers away, her touch firm. “Mark, you’re being so weird. We’re just getting a ride. Mr. Henderson is, like, our study group’s faculty advisor. He’s giving us a lift to the library.”
Mr. Henderson. The name was as hollow as her motel excuses. The man in the car leered, his tongue darting out to wet his thin lips.
“The library?” Mark whispered, the absurdity of it finally shattering something inside him. “Dressed like that?”
“It’s a theme night!” Jenny said, climbing into the back seat with a flip of her pigtails.
Amy slid into the passenger seat, blowing Mark a kiss. “Don’t wait up, baby! We’ll be super late. Big… big test to study for.”
The car door slammed shut, sealing them inside. The engine revved. Through the grimy windshield, Mark saw the man’s hand fall onto Amy’s thigh, her fishnets, and she didn’t push it away. She leaned into him, laughing at something he said.
Then, as the car began to pull away from the curb, he saw Jenny in the back seat. She didn’t wave. She bent forward at the waist, her plaid skirt riding up to expose the bare skin of her lower back, and placed her head in the driver’s lap. The pink bows in her pigtails were the last thing he saw before the car turned the corner and vanished into the stream of traffic.
Mark stood on the corner, the buzz of the neon sign now a roar in his ears. The smell of exhaust and cheap perfume hung in the air. He thought of the protein shake, the lab reports, the jealous clerk, the friendly mechanic, and now a faculty advisor to the library. A tower of lies, each more flimsy and ridiculous than the last, and he was the only one still pretending it was solid.
He turned and vomited into the gutter, his body convulsing, emptying itself of the poison of disbelief. When he was done, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his entire body trembling. He looked down the empty street where the car had disappeared, and for the first time, he didn’t see the girl he loved being stolen away. He saw her, clear and terrible, choosing to leave.