Lace: im going to charlottes after classes, dont wait up 
Cain: 🙂 
Cain: When are you coming home?  
Lace: (: prolly after dinner, gonna catch a movie and leave my phone in the library 
Cain: Sure thing. Study first. 
Lace: aye aye 

i put my phone down and leaned back in the beat up office chair. it had served as the captain’s seat for an heirloom armoire desk that dominated the back wall of the attic. everything up here was old, forgotten. things that the owners didn’t have the heart to throw out or maybe felt were too troublesome to get rid of. i felt right at home. it was a space frozen in time, repurposed so that i could cope with the absolute hellscape of the downstairs. a beanbag here, some new speakers for the ghosting CRT there, and enough old throws i was beginning to feel like someone’s grandmother. 

lacey had been spending more time up here. her nintendo console and a new laptop i didn’t recognize the brand of were over by the TV. bits and pieces of her were strewn about and i habitually picked them up to fold or put away. socks, t-shirts, the occasional pair of undergarments. it worried me that somebody might come up here and find these little artifacts, but i struggled to recall the last time anyone had even set foot on the staircase, let alone the threshold to my room. 

my phone buzzed again and i walked back to the desk to retrieve it. 

Kirst: hey hot stuff, free tonight? 
Cain: Yeah. Can we talk? 
Kirst: sure. ur place in 30? 
Cain: Deal. 

i continued picking up, tossing lacey’s things in a drawer, and hit the room with a bit of air freshener for good measure, especially around my sheets. then it was off to rinse and brush my teeth. i threw on a little cologne, some dior bottle that had been a gift from dad, and got into something comfortable. translated, easy to take off.  

after a fashionably long 30 minutes, kirsten texted me she was outside and the doorbell rang. i was already loitering in the living room. kelsey had been staring at me from the kitchen counter, which i had been trying to ignore, and i only had to move a few paces to answer the door.  

“hiiiii, cain.” kirsten said in her usual overly affectatious tone. she put out a manicured hand and i took it, inviting her in. she stepped through the door with all the grace of a blossomed woman who took pride in her athleticism. 

“hi beautiful.” i replied, pulling her into a hug. her chest squeezed against me and i was almost immediately submerged in the dizzying lavender that clung to neck and wrist. it hung over and around a purple velour bodysuit whose zipper seemed to beg to be put out of its misery. the soft, slightly cropped top showed just a tasteful smidge of bellybutton and the bottoms hugged her curves, flaring out at the ankles. 

“miss me?” she purred. i had started to hate how performative it all felt, but it wasn’t like i was any better of an actor. 

“like water in the desert.” i replied, leading her into the foyer. kelsey continued to glare from the kitchen, angrily munching on a piece of apple. i again pulled kirsten close and gave her a gentle kiss. some of the strawberry gloss on her lips transferred to mine, the taste lingering as we pulled away. 

kirsten was beautiful in the way that most girls fantasized about. high cheekbones, a strong but graceful jaw, the perfect button nose. her raven hair was crimped straight and locked in a series of complicated braids that felt royal. she giggled at my flirting, kissing me back a bit more. 

“okay. love train needs to pull out of the station.” kelsey said, obviously annoyed. her posture had gone from casual to irked, nails biting into the skin of the apple. 

“this train does not pull out.” kirsten replied, swatting me on the butt. kelsey made a gagging sound and covered her mouth in exaggeration. i decided that she had been tortured enough and led kirsten up into the attic. 

“wow, mr. neat and tidy, huh?” 

“well, you know…” i trailed off. my eyes fell to the game console in the corner. kirsten stepped in and i instinctively shut the door. 

she trotted over to my bed, finally releasing the zipper from its torment. cleavage bucked against the camisole and practically spilled out of it as the top came off. i was already pulling my shirt over my head. 

“i need a workout, we talk after?” she said absentmindedly. no more performance, just business. 

“whatever floats your boat.” 

“ohhh, cain. float my boat.” she moaned mockingly. i rolled my eyes and pushed her back onto the bed. 

sex with kirsten was good, great even. i was fit, she was hot. it was everything i should have wanted from this kind of relationship at my age, yet something was missing. even her face, bottom lip firmly crushed between her teeth, did very little to assuage my internal anxiety about everything going on. i hardly noticed her climax, with some assistance from my fingers, and when it was my turn to crescendo i had to really play up my enjoyment. 

we flopped onto each other, sticky with effort, breathing hard. i nuzzled her neck out of habit. the lavender was a little bitter, not in a bothersome way, but not sweet enough for me to want more.  

“give me 5 and we can go again.” she breathed. i was already tying off the condom, tossing it close enough to the trash can that i felt comfortable ignoring it for now. i stared at the ceiling, lost in my own thoughts.  

lacey had skipped school today. i’d gotten the usual call from pinecrest, intended for dad, but they had my number on the registry. maybe because he didn’t care enough to take the calls himself, or he’d gotten tired of it and once again silently delegated her care to me. i usually ignored them, made sure she was okay with a text, and left it at that. at least, i wanted to ignore it. she’d lied about going and it stung. 

i worried i’d put too much pressure on her with the promise. forced her into a position where it was easier to lie, not wanting to jeopardize the routine we’d fallen into. she was always so distant about it. dishonesty served to prevent more awkward conversations involving bullies and grades, but i just wanted her to be okay, to feel comfortable confiding in me like she had when we were closer. 

kirsten put her hand on my arm, feeling the bicep, trailing down to the forearm. she idly trilled against my palm with her fingers. i sat up, patting her side as a signal to flip over, and threw on another condom. 

round two should have been more trying than the first, but i started to feel a kind of resentment building. at my dad, at martha, at the stupid losers who had stolen so much of my house and my life. a small part of me even resented my mom dying. that anger manifested in rapid, forceful action, hiking kirsten’s hips up and laying into her. i grabbed the back of her braids and used them for leverage, watching her back arch in response. it carried on like that, on and off, stop and go. venting my frustration with the palm of my hand against her overly voluptuous ass, slowing down to catch my breath, and then crushing the next sprint. 

in the moment i didn’t care whether she finished or not. this wasn’t a matter of pride, nor performance. something had been welling up, burgeoning, and it shook the walls of the dam as every gasket in my lower body blew at the same time. i was lightheaded, my legs felt weak, and i had to lean on kirsten for support before falling onto my back, exhausted. 

“holy. shit.” she gasped, rolling over next to me. 

“i’ve been…stressed.” i panted. she was nuzzling my neck this time. it was comforting, at least, to have gotten a chance to blow off steam. i tossed the practically half full condom with its lonely brother and let out a heavy sigh. “shower?” 

“in that piece of shit?” kirsten snickered, side eyeing the ceramic slab that sat below an anemic looking shower head. 

i sighed. “i’ll let you know when the water gets warm.” 

another cold shower. another few moments spent thinking about how i got here, freezing my ass off in the attic of my childhood home. it really bothered me that lacey felt like she couldn’t trust me. an oily feeling, like slime covering every inch of my skin, water slipping off and to the side. leaving me just as gross as before steam had begun to cling around my ankles. even kirsten’s breasts brushing my back and the contact of her full lips on my neck couldn’t shake me out of that funk. 

“i have to get back before my dad freaks about me being out too late.” she whispered. kirsten’s dad was a construction superintendent who had worked on pretty much every housing development in westchester. a monumental hardass and a man that thoroughly terrified me. 

“for the best, i think. i don’t want Mr. Smith angry at me.” 

“i think if he knew we were doing this…” she trailed off, her hand reaching down and cupping me. “instead of studying, it would be a nightmare.” she finished. 

“apocalyptic.” i confirmed. we dried off and i handed kirsten her clothes. she gave me another long kiss and pulled the top back on, once again sending that poor zipper to purgatory.  

i completely forgot about wanting to talk. the concept seemed so far away now, my feelings so scattered. the release from getting to completely let loose had shaken a few screws around upstairs, and with her announcing her departure, it felt ill-conceived to bring it back up. i swung the door, only for a soft voice to squeak something incomprehensible. 

“oh, hey, i came for-” lacey’s question died in her mouth when she saw kirsten. 

“your nintendo.” i said firmly. if my blood was pumping before, it was a deluge in my veins now. 

“yes. that.” 

“ohhhh my gosh! you’re…layla?” kirsten asked, full affectation. 

“lacey.” 

“riiiight, lacey. hi!” she amended. “it’s been foreverrrr, you’re all grown up huh!”  

“i just need my-” lacey tried to step forward and i put my hand out to stop her mid statement. 

“you can get it later.” i reiterated, just as firm. she gave me a suspicious look. her eyes wandered past the doorway, through the gaps between kirsten and i. the deluge had started to palpitate. 

“fine.” she relented, trotting back down the stairs and slipping into her room without a word. i brought kirsten down and kissed her goodbye in the entry, just out of sight of dad and martha. lewis and kelsey were with them, looking bored and miserable as nighttime TV droned in the family room. 

after she had gone and i shut the front door, i padded back to lacey’s room and used our usual two knock signal. she opened it immediately; face contorted into a sour expression. 

“gross.” she said flatly. matter of fact, no real emotion other than a hint of disgust. 

“let me clean up, then you can play your game.” i said, pushing the door closed. she caught it with her knee. 

“i didn’t actually come for my console, dickweed.” 

“hey, you can swear all you want but that’s pushing it.” i chastised. lacey’s eyes narrowed and she drew her body away to close the door. i stopped it with my hand, leaning in slightly. “i don’t think you came for anything. i think somebody was snooping.” 

“what?” lacey said, her face reddening. she stuttered over some more words before making a ‘pshhh’ sound with her lips and shook her head. guilty. i rubbed my temple with my free hand. 

“what did you hear?” 

“all of it.” 

christ. “lace.” 

“oh come on, you weren’t exactly being quiet!” she whined. she wasn’t even looking at me now; her gaze firmly planted in the roughshod carpeting where it met the transition strip of the doorway. 

“nobody else heard, because nobody else was sitting outside my door.”  

“sue me.” 

“i will! in fact, when i’m done cleaning, we’re gonna have a talk about boundaries.” i was stressed, frustrated and anxious in the same moment. first the lying, now the snooping? i let her close the door this time, catching a brief, muted scream as i ascended back to the attic.  

when i reentered my room, the two haphazardly tossed condoms and the indisputable stains on my sheets felt like a smoking gun i had no way of concealing. in a halfhearted effort, i bunched up the sheets, tossing them into a heap, and remembered how late it was. fuck. no chance martha was going to let me use the laundry. some throws disguised the bed and i tossed the condoms in a ziplock bag. they stared back at me from the bottom of my trash. not exactly my best work.  

when things were mostly normal looking, i shot lacey a text. she was up within a few minutes, still visibly annoyed. her nose wrinkled as she stepped into the room. 

“dude. crack the window.” she complained. i pushed the circular stained-glass window behind the TV out from the top, letting in a rush of fresh air. 

“okay. now sit.” i directed, pointing to the beanbag chair underneath it. lacey complied, dropping herself into it and frowning. 

“i know you’re at this age where things are confusing-” 

“really, cain? the birds and the bees?” 

“we went to the same school, lace, and you have the internet. you’re not stupid. i’m talking about interests, relationships.” 

“okay. and?” 

“healthy ones.” 

“your point, sir.” she said, irritated, motioning with her hand for me to elaborate. 

“the point is, i think some wires have gotten crossed recently.” 

“what the fuck are you implying?” 

“lace, you were listening to us have sex. it’s normal to be curious but we need to separate that curiosity from…me.” i stuttered the last word awkwardly. my hands found my face, wiping across it as if to cleanse whatever horrific situation was even possibly being conceived here. 

“okay.” she replied sheepishly. okay? no talk back, no attitude, not even snark or sarcasm? 

“i think you should stop sleeping in here if you’re at that point in your maturity.” 

“what? cain-” 

“i’m not budging on this.” i reiterated. lacey was pouting now, cheeks puffed up like a tiny little chipmunk. i dropped to a crouch next to the beanbag. “look, lace. we’ve already got so much fucked up stuff going on in this house, the last thing i want is to fuck you up too.” 

“cain…” she mumbled, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. i leaned in to hug her, pulling her close to me and practically drank that stupid, sickly fragrance she must’ve bathed in. i felt stuck. desperate to bring up other things, close to tears myself. i wouldn’t cry, of course. not when she needed me. 

“i need you, lace. you’re the last thing normal thing i have.” 

“i hate you.” lacey muttered. she weakly punched my sides, her arms struggling to wiggle out from mine. they wilted and hung there, squeezed between us by my embrace. 

“i love you.” i said into her shoulder. no response, just more tears. deep, chest heaving sobs that began to wet my shirt as tears flowed on and on. i held her like that for 20 minutes, maybe longer, until my knees burned and my arms were sore. it didn’t matter. i really didn’t care about anything else. i would protect her feelings. i would hold her until she cried every last tear she had.