“It is nothing,” he said. “I didn’t want it, I wanted what it represented. You, you I want. You are the first thing I have ever wanted. I will have you, Julia, if I have to work to find your price, I will have you and damn my soul.”
Even though the coldness remained, the disconnect, she could sense more, a fire burning beneath the surface. Trying to melt the ice.
“You think I would cost you so much?”
“I know you will,” he said. “But I don’t care. Why do you want me?” he asked. “I am…there is dirt on my skin that will not come clean. Why would you touch me?”
“Because I don’t see you that way.”
“How?”
“You think I’m innocent, Ferro, because I was a virgin, but innocence and virginity aren’t the same thing. I was a virgin because I was afraid, not…not so much of sex but the trust I would have to give in order to have it.”
They were still naked, and that seemed right. It seemed appropriate that she should be naked while she told him this story because it made her feel exposed. Made her lower her armor. Made her strip herself completely.
She’d thought being with Ferro would be perfect because all she’d have to give was her body, and never herself, but she saw now that it wasn’t enough.
“When…when I was in high school, I got this idea that I might like to go to prom. And my mother was thrilled because it was the first time I’d shown an inclination toward being ‘normal.’ All she’d ever wanted was a daughter who cared about shopping and boys, but I just wanted to program text-based adventure games and reenact fantasy battles in the park with other geeks. As you can imagine, no one was lining up to be my date. But right before the dance, Michael Coleman asked me to be his date. I said yes. He was handsome and popular and it seemed too good to be true. It was, by the way. It was too good to be true.”
She swallowed. She hadn’t realized how hard it would be to tell the story. She’d never told anyone, not the whole thing. “We spent hours choosing the dress. It was very pink. It was like bubblegum. And my date was handsome. He danced with me, spent time with me. It was great. And then…after the dance we got in the limo my parents had rented for us and he started… He kissed me, only I’d never kissed a boy before and he was going too fast. I asked him to stop and he wouldn’t. He tore my dress, grabbed my breasts. He was so rough and it all just hurt. And I can’t even explain how he looked. Like he was angry at me. Like he blamed me. And I kept saying no, but he kept going and he pushed my dress up and put his hand between my legs. And I hit him. As hard as I could. In the nose. Then he hit me across the face with the back of his hand. My nose was bleeding and…and then he said ‘you stupid bitch. I was doing you a favor. No other guy would ever touch you. You should be thanking me. I’m only here because your mom paid me to be. After forcing me to dance with you all night I deserved to have you put out.’ That was when the limo driver realized something was happening and intervened. He didn’t…call the police or anything he just unrolled the divider and had me come up to the front seat. It’s amazing how little people do in those situations, because no one wants to believe it happened.”
“Dio, Julia that’s…”
“That’s why I don’t see dirt on you, Ferro, because I understand what it feels like to have someone else try to own your body, to have someone act like they have a right to you. I understand that you were a victim.”
“I wasn’t.”
“He told me I should thank him, Ferro. Because no other man would ever want to touch me. He told me I should thank him for holding me down and trying to force his way into my body. Should I have thanked him?”
“Cazzo.” Ferro’s voice was rough, raw. “No, Julia. Of course not.”
“How is it any different? She held food and shelter over your head. Your very survival. And I’m sure she acted like you should be grateful, or like you were business partners, or whatever she made you believe, but you don’t have to thank the person who abused you. She could have just given you money, if she cared she could have. She could have put you to work in her kitchen, but instead she took a sixteen-year-old boy and demanded the use of his body, sold his body. I fail to see how you, as a boy, had any more control than me at sixteen in the back of that limo.”