Chasing Her (Dark Love 3)

It was exactly like in school, the teacher praising you in front of the whole classroom. Inside I feel the relief wash over me, Penny leaning over to squeeze my hand with delight. Fred begins to clap, acknowledging my achievement. Jerry sulks, as usual, then in a bold move, leans toward me and sticks out his fist. I knock fists with him, weird but okay. Whatever.

My eyes wander over to the mystery girl. With her sleeves up, I can see red marks just above her wrist. There’s no mistaking them, some are old scars, and others look raw and new.

They are cuts.

I beg her with my eyes to look in my direction. She’s a girl in pain, maybe more so than the rest of us in this room. With every cut that scars her pale skin, I want to mend her and give her the hope she needs. Whatever it is about this girl that pulls me in, I need to control it. Something has a hold of me, and with alarm bells ringing in my head, once again, I have to stop trying to find the next obsession.

Everything comes to a halt when I watch her head lift, and her eyes stare directly at mine.

There’s something familiar about them. I’ve seen them before. I wrack my brain but come up with nothing.

This is a huge fault of mine and exactly what I do every time. I think I see people from the past in my present.

Breaking her gaze, I shake my head, clearing my thoughts.

“Darling, you up for a drink at the bar around the corner? My treat.” Penny pulls a twenty out of her cleavage.

I nod and laugh at her antics, only to miss the mystery girl leaving the room, vanishing without a trace.

“So, one day, my father catches me dressed in my mother’s church clothes parading in front of the bathroom mirror. He beat me to a pulp, leaving me for dead. It was the last time I ever saw that sick bastard.”

Penny’s horrific life story can only be heard with a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses. There are parts that had me in stitches and others that made me want to wring the neck of the man who brought her into this world.

We have been sitting at the bar, playing a game of ‘let’s take turns telling our tragic stories’ followed by a strong shot of tequila.

“Okay, my turn,” I slur.

Penny enjoys being asked questions, unlike me.

“So, what exactly is happening down south? Do you like men or women?”

A laugh escapes her mouth, almost spilling a peanut she’s eating. “Don’t have the money to get frankenweenie chopped off, and I’m all about the man.” She slides closer to me before grabbing my forearm and laughing off her comment. “Sweetie, you’re drop-dead gorgeous, and I’m certain that any woman who’s been near your ding-dong has been sat… tis… fied.” She clicks her fingers, then gracefully pours more tequila into her glass.

“Penny, I’m all about the pussy. No offense.” I chuckle.

“Sweetie, no offense taken, but if you need a good whack up your backside, you know where to find me.”

The thought made me squirm in pain, not pleasure. I wonder if Eric would be interested. For God’s sake, Julian, don’t play gay matchmaker. That’s such a chick thing to do.

Curbing my curiosity, I ask the question that’s been bugging me for days. “So, what the hell is up with you and Jerry?”

“Urgh, he’s such an immature little brat who needs a sitting in the naughty corner to think about his actions,” she complains.

“What’s his story?”

“I’m not certain on the details, only what Fred has told me. He was beaten by his brothers when he was younger. Happened for years, and apparently, they would make him lie to his parents that kids in the neighborhood were doing it. The sick thing was that they would do it in front of other kids to show off. Kinda like a bet.” She slams a shot of tequila down, wincing as it burns her throat. “So, one day he was so badly hurt that he was rushed to the hospital. He told his parents everything, but they refused to believe him, so when he was twelve or something, he ran away to live on the streets.”

“That’s fucked up. How old is he?” I couldn’t help but feel sorry for Jerry after Penny’s tell-all story.

“I think he’s like twenty.”

“He looks so much older,” I wondered out loud.

“The streets will do that to you. Okay, enough serious talk, are you up for some fun?” she asks with a devilish grin on her face.

“Sure, Penny Tration, lead the way.”