He lifts me up on the kitchen table and I lean back as he kisses down the side of my neck, then down to my breasts.
"Brad," I mutter, leaning back even more.
"Tell me to stop," he urges.
"I can't." I scoot closer to him, which causes the long t-shirt I'm wearing to slide up my legs, exposing my lacy pink panties.
"Shit, Riley," he groans.
His strong hands grip my bare thighs as his lips kiss their way down the deep dip in my shirt that exposes my breasts. My head falls back and moans seep out of me as he slowly pushes my legs apart.
We should move this into the bedroom, but everything feels so perfect I don't want to stop.
"Riley?" I hear my mom's voice, followed by the squeaking of the screen door.
"Shit!" I bolt up, hitting Brad in the head. "Sorry!"
He moves aside, rubbing his head as I jump off the table.
"Well, well, what's going on here?" my mom asks, a big grin on her face. She looks like she just woke up. Her hair's a mess, her clothes are wrinkled, and she has lipstick on her teeth.
"Mom, you remember Brad."
She saunters over to him. "He's hard to forget." She looks at me beside him, noticing I'm only wearing a t-shirt. "Did I walk in before or after?"
"Nothing happened, Mom." I yank on my t-shirt, which suddenly seems much shorter than I remember. Ironically, it's one of Nate's old shirts. He gave it to me last summer at the pool on a day when I forgot to bring one. And now I'm wearing it while making out with his cousin.
"I just got here," Brad says.
"April was cutting my hair. She just left."
My mom laughs as she tosses her purse on the table. "You sound just like your mama. Making up stories after getting caught. I saw you two all hot and heavy before I walked in."
I glance at Brad.
"So when did you two start dating?" she asks, going over to get a glass from the dish rack.
"We're not dating," I say.
"Just having fun, huh?" She fills the glass with water. "Nothing wrong with that."
"Mom, it's not like that."
"Then what exactly is it?" She gulps down her water, a sign she's hungover. She thinks the water will cure the hangover, and when it doesn't, she goes back to hard liquor.
"We're dating," Brad says, coming up beside me. "We just don't want Nate finding out. We'd appreciate it if you didn't tell him."
My mom shrugs. "I don't care. I never even see the kid."
I race up to her. "But if you do, you won't tell him, right?"
She sighs. "Riley, your boy problems are the least of my concerns right now." She finishes her water.
"Why? What happened?" I want to ask her about the unpaid bills, but that'll just make her angry and then she won't tell me what's bothering her.
"You'll find out soon enough." She walks off, heading to her room.
"Mom, wait!" I follow her. "What happened?"
She turns around. "Renee's selling the salon. Which means you and I will be out of a job soon."
"That's just a rumor. Renee's not selling the salon. People have been saying that since her mom retired, but it's not true."
"Then how do you explain the for sale sign in front of the salon?"
My shoulders sink. "When? When did it happen?"
"Yesterday. Dave and I were driving by and there it was, right in front of the door. Renee didn't even bother to tell anyone."
"Have you talked to her?"
"No, and I'm not going to. The bitch is selling the place to get rich while the rest of us are left without jobs." She reaches down and yanks off one of her high heels. "April didn't know?"
"She couldn't have. If she'd known, she would've said something."
"Well, it don't matter to her anyway. She's young. She'll get to keep her job. It's us old timers they'll kick to the curb."
"Mom, you're not old and you're one of their best stylists."
"My clients are old and the new owner's gonna want to change the place up. Make it younger. Attract people your age."
"That doesn't mean you can't work there."
She yanks off her other heel. "I'm going to bed." She goes in her room and slams the door.
"Sorry," I hear Brad say from behind me. I turn and see him standing there. "Come here." He pulls me into his arms.
"We're going to lose our jobs."
"You don't know what's going to happen. Neither does your mom."
"She can't do anything else. She tried waitressing. Cashiering. She got fired every time. This is the only thing she can do."
"She can still do it, even if the salon closes. She could open her own place."
"She can't run a business. She can't even pay her bills on time. And what am I going to do for a job? I'm making good money there. No place in town is going to pay me that much."
"It'll work out. It always does."
I look up at him. "Maybe for you, but it doesn't for me. That's why I'm still here. Still living in this trailer. Living with my mom. Supporting her and never getting ahead."
"If you want things to change, they will. This doesn't have to be your life."
I push away from him. "That's easy for you to say. You're rich. You have a college degree. You come from a family who supports you."
He lets out a humorless laugh. "Yeah, you don't know me that well. My life's not as great as you think."
"That's not what Nate said."
"Because Nate doesn't know. He only knows what he hears from my mom, which isn't much. In fact, just today she—" He stops. "Forget it. You have your own problems. You don't need to hear mine." He takes a breath. "So you want to get out of here? I'll wait on the couch while you change."
"Brad." I step up to him. "I know things aren't good with your dad, but I've been afraid to ask you about it. It's not that I don't care."
"I know," he says, looking down.
"You can tell me. I wouldn't tell Nate."
He looks up. "Go get dressed. We'll go grab some lunch."
We go to a sandwich shop and find a table in a quiet corner. I noticed Brad seemed off when he first got to my place, but then he was talking to April and me and seemed back to normal. I thought maybe I was just imagining something was wrong, but it turns out I wasn't.
"Will you tell me about it?" I ask as we sit down with our sandwiches.
"Where do I start?" he says, leaning back in his chair. He glances to the side. "It's all just a fucked-up mess I'd rather not talk about."
I pick up my sandwich, trying to think of a way to get him to open up to me. "My mom almost died."
"She what?"
I clear my throat and sit up straighter. "She almost died. More than once."
He scoots his chair in and leans forward. "When? Like recently?"
"The first time was when I was five. She drank too much and ended up with alcohol poisoning that almost killed her. Then when I was eight, she got mad when her boyfriend dumped her and drove her car into a telephone pole. It didn't kill her, but she was in the hospital for a week. I had to stay with one of her friends until she was better. Then when I was fourteen, she took a bunch of pills, again because of a guy. I got her to the hospital just in time. So fucked-up mess? I'm familiar with it."