have
a nicer place. âJust once,
for me. Oh, and try a little
taste of heroin. That will make
everything easier.â Before
you knew it, you were hooked,
and doing whatever you had
to do to keep supplied.
She has heard this story.
How many girls like me
there must be in the world!
And some of them leave it
in awful ways. At least
Bryn didnât hurt me, not
physically, the way some
pimps do. âThatâs pretty
much it,â I admit. âThen I
found out he kept a whole
stable of âmodels.â I was just
another one of his girls.â
That stings to say. And while
he never beat me, he scarred
my heart. I doubt Iâll ever be
able to trust a guy again.
As for love, whatâs the point?
I Donât Expect Sympathy
Okay, maybe a little. Instead,
Naomiâs jaw stiffens like cement
setting up, and her eyes take
on a serious chill. Total
transformation. Let me ask
you this. Why would you leave
a cushy life in a nice home,
with a family who supported
you? Why would you let them
worry for months that you might
be dead? A little selfish, yes?
Whoa. She can be downright
mean. Come on, RIS, think of
something to say. âYou donât
know anything about my family.
All my mom cares about is her
country club and taking my sister,
Kyra, shopping. All my dad cares
about is work. They probably didnât
even notice I was gone for a week.â
And Kyra no doubt threw a bon
voyage, good riddance party.
Sometimes thereâs a decent bit
of distance between perception
and fact, especially when it comes
to teenagers and their parents.
Did you ever stop to consider
you might have been wrong?
Not until Momâs barrage
of apologies in the hospital.
Of course, Dad showed up
all pissed and disgusted.
And Kyra, my loving sister?
All she cared about was
her reputation. How could
you do this to me? What
happens if my friends find out?
So, âNo, Naomi, Iâm pretty
damn sure I was spot on.
No one noticed me when
I was there. Why would they
miss me when I was gone?â
The universe doesnât revolve
around you. Me, me, me.
Tiresome. Iâve talked to your parents,
and your sister. If youâd died,
they wouldâve been devastated.
Did you know your mom spent
hours and hours e-mailing
your photo to law enforcement
agencies? Thatâs how the police
knew who you were when they
found you, lying there frothing.
Had you been just another hooker,
who knows how hard they would
have tried to resuscitate you?
Derailed
By dimpled blond Naomi.
So much for sympathy.
So much for trying to justify
the dumb moves I made.
Iâll try to pacify her, paint
my face with contrition.
âYouâre right. I was totally
selfish, and Iâm sorry I hurt
my family.â As the words
fall from my mouth, I realize
theyâre maybe true. âIâm just
a stupid girl who fell in love
with the wrong man.â
Tell me about him. What
was so special about this
guy that made every ounce
of common sense desert you?
âBrâBryan is to die for.
Cute. Smart. Drives a cool
car. Mostly, he treated me
like I was the most amazing
girl heâd ever met. He swore
I was beautiful, and made me
believe it. No one else has
ever done that for me.â
Okay, that sounds lame. Totally TV.
I Donât Out Bryn
To NaomiâI call him
Bryan. Bryn is a peculiar
name, one that stands out,
and even as hurt and pissed
as I am, getting him in trouble
(he could go to prison
for a very, very long time)
isnât on my âto do todayâ list.
Donât ask me why not.
Part of me would genuinely
enjoy seeing him locked up
in a cell with some beefy guy,
looking for a little action.
Iâd probably pay to watch.
Despite that, the biggest
piece of schizo me remains
head-in-the-clouds in love
with the bastard. How is that
possible? Iâll never forget
hours and hours, curled up
in a