YOUNG LUST

"Evening, pirate." Bonham reached back and opened the side door for me. "For just a flash of your treasure chest, you can step on board."

My breasts. He wanted to see my breasts.

I was very aware that Dreux was still in my yard, watching us.

It wasn't that I gave a shit what anyone thought of me, but I didn't want to give him a bad impression. What if he told Scott?

"Maybe later," I said.

Excitement lit up Bonham's face. "Aye, aye, captain."

I climbed into the back and as I was sliding the door closed I caught Dreux still in place, observing me.

He merely shook his head.

I wanted to say something, or do something, but instead, I simply closed the door.

For tonight's excursions, it was only Bonham, his friend Bug, and me. Bug was a little guy, maybe five-six at the least, but he had the excitement of ten men. He was bouncing in his seat as I settled in, his hands playing the drums on the steering wheel.

Music on the radio was provided by Linkin Park. It reminded me of how all the good ones died young.

As Chester Bennington sang about being numb, Bonham sat back and took a drag from his cigarette.

"I should be checking you for snakebites," he said as Bug began driving.

Right, because according to him Dreux was a snake. "Guys who quote Hemingway can't be shady." Most guys I knew couldn't even spell Hemingway, much less read and interpret his work.

" 'We are made up of two contrasting ideals: Love and Fear. Pick one and live,' " Bonham recited. "Axl Rose."

I couldn't help but laugh. I loved Guns N' Roses, but his little quote was just to rival Dreux, and Dreux's was more fitting.

Bug joined in. "You're too new to understand."

This was true, and while I didn't truly care, I was curious.

"What's the story between you and him anyway?" I finally asked.

I watched in the rearview mirror as Bonham sank back in his seat, his lips pressing into a hardline as that mask he wore when Dreux was mentioned took his face. "He knows what's up."

"Cryptic, much?" I responded. "You warn me about him and he warns me about you, am I ever going to figure it out?"

"He warns you about me? That's funny."

"He doesn't seem so bad."

"Gag," Bonham said loudly. "Choose a side and stay there."

I snorted as I sat back in my seat. "I'm using you to get laid."

In the rearview mirror I caught a smile washing across Bonham's face. "You're my favorite kind of girl."

He held his hand back towards me. "Pick your poison, sticks or stones?"

Pills or weed.

Pills weren't my favorite, I was too afraid of becoming addicted, and worse, overdosing.

I chose the joint and he lit me up.

"Where to first?" I asked.

Bonham drank from a flask. "To Neverland."

The night went on as I got faded in the back.

Soon, all my troubles disappeared as I was floating on clouds.

"This is really good." I held the joint between my fingers, marveling at it.

At least there was good bud.

A little while later, Bug pulled into a parking lot that was packed with other vehicles outside of some large building.

Bonham climbed out immediately after Bug parked, and to my surprise, he opened the side door for me.

"Let's set sail," he announced.

A pun on my name, I'd heard them my whole life, but this one, this one I really liked.

I climbed out of the van and stretched my legs, being five-eight meant a lifetime of having to stretch my legs after being in cramped places.

Around the parking lot I spotted other groups of the local teens. Some were hanging out on the beds of trucks, open vans, or just standing. Smoke pilfered through the air, a deadly mix of nicotine and weed. Music played in the background, the head banging variety. These kids were mostly burnouts, getting smashed as they passed back bottles of liquor and filled red solo cups in between smoking.

This was my type of scene.

And then I saw the sign.

"Bowling?" I questioned.

Bonham shrugged. "This is just a prerequisite. The alley's not really supervised at night as you can see. We can get trashed here before trying a bar. I will warn you, some of the fascists won't let you in."

"So bowling?" I repeated.

Honestly, this seemed to be more of Cameron's gig. I wouldn't have been surprised if we bumped into the bubbly blonde inside the establishment.

Bonham finished my joint for me, taking it in and releasing a cool stream of smoke. "At least until Rick shows up."

"Rick?"

Bug snickered. "Your boyfriend's cousin, Deputy Rick St. Julien."

Bonham shot two fingers at me. "Fuck the police."

The law wasn't fond of me either.

Like a tightknit crew, we approached the alley and entered its quarters.

Once inside I realized Bonham was right. The entire place was swarming with teenagers from the staff to the customers. It was all one big underage party.

"This is about as nice as the adults get around here," Bonham explained to my confusion after we'd gotten our shoes and lane location. "They figure they let us let loose here and send a cop or two by to check in on us to make sure we're not killing each other and all's good. The school even has designated drivers on standby, not to mention that Uber and Lyft shit. As long as we don't torch the place, they turn the cheek, just for a night."

It was kind of interesting. I guess the town wasn't so lame after all.

The bowling alley housed a litter of every high school cliché you could think of. There were jocks, cheerleaders, misfits, and a few freaks and geeks in between.

I did manage to make out some familiar faces from class, Cameron's friend Harmony being one. She was lounging back against some tall dark-skinned guy; a buddy of Aidan's named Ebram. He had a fade too, except unlike Dreux's natural coils on top, he had a conjunction of dreads. He had them pulled back in a ponytail, obviously going for some sort of artsy chic look. Seriously, he did that shit on purpose.

Harmony spotted me and made a show to wave. God bless this girl. "Hey Navy!"

Close enough. Forcing a smile on my face, I said, "Hey Melody!"

Harmony laughed. She was already too far gone. "It's Harmony."

I gestured to myself. "Saylor."

She bobbed her head and tugged on Ebram's arm. "This is my boyfriend, Ebram."

Ebram merely tipped his head towards me before sliding his gaze elsewhere, namely being two girls in the lane over.

Harmony squinted her eyes, trying to see through her drunken vision. "You're here with Bonham?"

Bonham took no offense as he planted himself next to me. "Evening, Harmony."

She frowned a little. "I don't like him for you."

"Aww, but I totally love Ebram for you," Bonham mocked in a high-pitched tone of voice.

Ebram tore his eyes away from some girl's ass and shot Bonham a death glare. "Get lost, Bonham."

Bonham smirked. I loved that he wasn't intimidated by Ebram's much bigger stature. Bonham was a cool five-foot-eleven, average in build, and not at all threatening in the manner of his reputation. Ebram was a clear athlete with his six-foot-plus height and massive physique.

"We're just here until Rick shows up," Bonham clarified.

To this Ebram settled down. "Pretty Ricky is what they call him."

Bug chuckled. "Everybody needs a nickname."

Of the two St. Julien men that I met, I wondered if Rick was as handsome.

"Cameron says you live next to Dreux," Harmony spoke up. "I like him."

Of course. Who wouldn't like Dreux's angel to Bonham's devil?

"Not my type," I let her know.

Harmony waved me off. "You just gotta get to know him. Ooh, ooh," she got really excited as she sat up, the contents of her cup sloshing onto the floor, "and see what he looks like in sweatpants."

"Sweatpants?"

"It's about how he looks in sweatpants," Harmony insisted. "Not in that pervy way, but in that cozy I-Wanna-Cuddle way."

"O-kay." How much had she drank already?

"Ooh, and pull-ups."

"Pull-ups?"

Harmony shrugged. "It's just hot watching a guy do pull-ups."

Sweatpants and pull-ups, interesting.

Ebram was fed up with her chatter. He took and his wrapped his arm around her neck and covered her mouth with his hand.

Something about this rubbed me the wrong way.

That and the way he kept checking out every girl within a two-inch radius.

Cameron was right; this douche was a total skeeze.

"Church!" some kid called out to Bonham.

Some boy approached Bonham and they pounded fists before the kid slipped him a large fountain cup.

I seriously doubted that soda was inside.

"Best damn beer in town," the boy told Bonham.

Bonham gave a thumbs up as he tilted his head back and chugged some of the brew.

When he held it out for me, I boldly dug into his jacket and procured his flask.

I took a shot and down the rabbit hole I went.

Whoever was manning the music was okay in my book. Instead of that pop shit they played on the radio, the bowling alley was playing classic rock. My type of vibe.

Eagles blared through the speakers as Bonham hung back in our booth as we sat at our own lane. Bug was actually attempting to bowl.

"This is retirement." Bonham turned to me. "Meadow Grove is the place you come to die, not start a family and live. When I graduate, I'm hittin' that road and heading straight to L.A., baby."

At first I loved his words, and then I didn't because they reminded me of Scott.

"Hopefully you don't crash and burn," I said.

"I don't know what I'm going to do, Saylor, but I'm going to do something. I'm going out there and finding my purpose. I'll sleep when I'm dead. People around here don't think much of me anyhow, but I'll show 'em, especially him."

"Your father?"

Bonham shook his head and said no more.

I didn't exactly get it, but I sensed it was serious.

We all had our own hell.

Bug bowled a perfect strike, eliciting a chime from the computer and cheer from our neighbors.

Not many were actually bowling. Most kids were just hanging out, drinking, and eating.

I was satiated with my stolen flask.

For a while the sounds of balls hitting the pins and classic rock mixed with many conversations filled the silence wedged between us.

It was nice in a way, I didn't know Bonham, but he was easy and comfortable. Simple. He almost reminded me of my boys, but then that would ruin the purpose of the evening.

The flask was empty.

I didn't want to get too fucked up on alcohol. It was always best to be some type of coherent around strangers.

When I stood to my feet I found gravity challenging.

"Whoa." Sober I was not.

I meandered my way through the crowded space of bodies and managed to walk to the front counter.

The boy behind it had clearly lost a battle with puberty.

His pale face was red with acne, and his greasy hair did nothing to improve his tragic appearance.

I reached down and removed my shoes. "I'm out."

His nametag read Bryce. "Do you need one of our designated drivers?"

I wasn't yet ready to go home, where the only person who ever knew I existed was Scott.

Fuck Scott.

I accepted my shoes as I declined his offer. "No thanks. I'll walk around and explore."

Bryce appeared skeptical, but then he just gave up.

Truthfully, I was so used to people giving up on me I wasn't sure what I'd do when someone tried to stay and fight.

Outside the air was warm and inviting against the bowling alley's blast of AC.

I wasn't the most steady on my feet, but I just started walking anyway. My destination was uncertain, but I was ready for the next location.

"Whoa, whoa, easy there." Bonham's arms circled my middle as he came up behind me with Bug following in tow. "Where ya going?"

"Somewhere new." I pushed against him and backed up a little, stumbling along the way.

Bonham eyed me. "Then tell me that. Communication is typically how relationships of any sort work." He looked around. "Besides, I don't trust these guys with a pretty girl like you wandering out here all lost and wasted."

"I'm not wasted," I insisted. "Just a little light on my feet."

His response was a smirk. "You ready for a bar or two?"

This got a smile out of me. "Lead the way, captain!"

With his arm around my shoulder and Bug in the back, we walked the sidewalks to the strip of businesses that offered a variety of nightlife options.

The first bar was dead inside, leaving us to abandon it quickly.

The next bar we tried we couldn't even get past the bouncer. He took one look at us, rolled his eyes, and told us to get lost before he called the cops.

"Not tonight, Bonham, we don't want no trouble," the security guard even knew him by name.

Bonham flashed those pearly whites of his. "Come on, Mick. Just let us hang for an hour, and then we'll go."

Mick wasn't having it. "I could lose my job lettin' in a bunch of kids like you."

His lips were thinner than my patience.

Bonham went to work trying to convince Mick, and I lost interest as I slipped out from under his arm and surveyed my surroundings.

Across the street was another bar—how many bars did Meadow Grove have?

The sign, a dimly lit rectangle, read Al's. The building had a very old look about it. Its windows were filled in with colored frosted glass cubes. Al's was dark and dull, almost as though it wasn't trying to impress anybody at all. As if daring each patron to come in at their own risk.

Shangri-La.

I left Bonham's side and looked both ways before crossing the street, a little aware that he was on my heels.

"Bad idea, Al is a tired old man and he'll never let you in," Bonham warned.

I didn't listen. In all the glitz and glamour of the bars all around, Al's was the underdog and I wanted in.

Without hesitating, I grabbed the door handle and pushed inside. Bonham and Bug followed behind me, each releasing a breath.

The bar was mostly empty, except for a few older men who hung by the bar, and a few women seated at a one of the booths that lined the perimeter.

Behind the bar an old man could be seen eyeing us with disdain.

He looked like the late Robin Williams, another great that had died young.

Maybe I would die young, too.

A victim of my own demise.

Bonham and Bug hung by the door, like two kids who had been scolded by their school teacher.

I went over to the bar and perched myself onto a stool. I met Al's old eyes and nodded. "Hey."

"I don't serve minors," he told me.

I was pretty smashed already if I had to admit. "Just a water."

It was evident that Al didn't know my angle as he narrowed his eyes.

He grabbed a glass and poured me some water and dropped a few ice cubes in it before handing it over.

"Cheers." I tipped the glass towards him and took a quenching sip.

Turning on the stool, I studied the bar and took it all in. A few tables in the center of the floor, a karaoke machine in the corner adjacent to a jukebox, and in the back was something that instantly had my full attention. A mechanical bull.

I faced Al. "That thing available to minors?"

Al peered back at the mechanical bull. "I suppose so." He returned to me. "What's your play?"

I grinned. "To live."

Al gave up his skepticism. "All right, you can stay. The first sign of trouble and you all are out, you got that?"

Bonham didn't register Al's words until Bug was leaving his side and grabbing a seat at the bar.

Bug ordered a cola and I climbed off of the stool, aimed to tame the bull.

At the jukebox, I sifted through the catalog, surprised to find a few modern artists against all the legends.

I settled on Kings of Leon as I faced the bull.

Al was at my side, staring at me reluctantly. "You sure about this, young lady?"

Maybe this would injure me, or kill me. Maybe I would regret it.

Would I let it stop me? Let fear hold me back?

My life wasn't in my own hands, but tonight, I was going against the grain and living how I wanted to in this one-horse town.

"Yes," I said.

Bonham came and helped me climb astride the bull. He grinned up at me with a shake of his head.

"You like Atreyu?" he asked me.

"A song or two," I admitted of the rock band.

He patted my thigh. "Well today, you become the bull."

I caught his pun and again I laughed.

"Whenever you're ready." Al stood at the controls off to the side.

I braced myself, holding onto the rope used for a grip.

Closing my eyes, I said, "Sail."

The mechanical bull jerked to life and all I could feel was that moment of almost losing my grip, of almost losing control. My body swayed here and there with the powerful movement of the bull, almost threatening to send me off of it.

I just kept telling myself to hold on, that if I could hold on as tightly as I could, that I could make it, that I could keep all of my shit together.

The music continued to play as I felt myself slip into a comfortable subconscious.

Just hold on. Just sail. Just hold on. Just sail. Just hold on. Just sail.

Soon I couldn't feel a thing, not my hand on the rope or the bull trying to rid itself of my body.

I was free.

I was sailing.

This euphoria, this bliss, it couldn't be beat. Nothing could reach me and all was finally okay.

The sound of cheering brought me down to gravity.

I opened my eyes.

The bull had stopped.

Around the bar people were cheering.

I guess I beat it.

"Well done." Al was impressed.

Mostly, my gaze was locked on Bonham.

He looked like a proud father or something as he stood back, with open arms for me to come to him.

Al helped me off of the bull and I walked right into Bonham's arms

"I'm so fucking into you," he told me before his mouth met mine.

⚓

Bonham's parents let him crash in the apartment over their garage. He'd taken and turned the place into the perfect hangout pad with its setup of chairs, a sofa, an impressive music collection, record player, and endless supply of alcohol he'd stashed in his mini fridge. His parents apparently turned a blind eye to his smoking and drinking so long as they never caught him. My type of people.

Bug was laying back on the sofa, smoking a joint he'd dramatically rolled for our viewing, while Bonham and I shared a bottle of Jim Beam and a cigarette all while listening to old rock and roll.

We weren't really dancing, but Bonham's arms were around me and mine were around him as the music played.

The Rolling Stones came on. One of my favorite records by them, "Beast of Burden." Bonham started singing to me, his voice all deep and raspy from smoking and drinking, and I loved it.

I swayed my hips in a seductive manner, all too aware that Bonham was right where I wanted him.

As Mick started begging in the song, Bonham dipped down on his knees, clasping his hands together as if in prayer, singing along with the tune.

In that moment, there was nothing sexier than Bonham Church singing the Stones to me and begging with that gorgeous face of his.

I curled my finger, telling him to come back up to me. He sang all the way as his hands ran along the curves of my body.

By this late in the evening, I was hot with desire and all too ready to rip his clothes off.

The song ended and Bonham took our cigarette stub and tossed it in the nearest ashtray.

"Bug," he said without taking an eye off of me, "go on a beer run."

Bug was confused as he sat up. "But we just stocked the fridge yesterday."

Bonham eyed his friend. "Then go and do something that buys us time."

Knowledge sank in and Bug immediately stood to his feet. He gave us a salute as he walked backwards towards the door. "I'll be back in two, you seem like a two-minute man."

Bonham flipped him the bird as he made his exit.

Now alone, Bonham turned on me, eyes ignited in heat.

I wasn't sure who attacked who first, but somehow our bodies collided and our shirts hit the floor. Unlike his brother's pale complexion, Bonham's skin was hot to the touch and tan in coloring and oh-so delicious looking with the naughty tattoo on his hip.

Oh I would enjoy all right.

We were still standing as Bonham's lips traveled from mine to my throat, down my chest, and to my torso. When he was on his knees before me, giving me a daring look, I just about killed over.

He licked at the flesh of my belly, grinning as his teeth sank into my skin, nibbling on me. Once more he was on his feet, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me close into him where I could feel his hardness building. His mouth stole mine for just a moment before he pulled away.

"We won't be a fairy tale, pirate, but I can promise you the best time," he told me.

Now I was pulling away. "Fairy tales are bullshit."

Bonham cocked a brow. "Not a fan of Disney?"

It was more the other way around. "I'm a fan of reality. Society makes these fairy tales where the girl has to be pretty, nice, a-and meek, and a damn goody-goody to be the princess," I went on. I held up the bottle of Jim Beam for emphasis. "I'm nobody's princess."

Bonham watched me, purely amused. "No?"

I thought of Kevin and everyone else in my life. "Happy endings don't exist, it's all about now."

Bonham studied me. "You've been hurt before, huh?"

I tipped the bottle back, drinking more of the alcoholic beverage. "Life fucks us all."

Bonham stood back, smiling at me with a drunken gleam in his eye. He reached up, acquiring all of his hair and securing it in a very serious man-bun.

God, I loved his hair. Wild hair like his deserved to be free.

I reached up to free it from the navy-blue band he used to keep it in place.

Bonham caught my wrist, beaming down at me. "What are you doing?"

"I want it free."

He gestured to his mass of wavy locks. "This?"

I nodded, seemingly in a trance the longer I looked at him. "Yeah."

Bonham freed his hair, going and taking mine in his hands and preparing to give me a bun. The look in his eye as he went to work on me was handsome and intent. I didn't believe for a second that Bonham was truly who everyone else painted him as. He was probably just like me, wild, untamable, and not meant to follow all the rules.

I couldn't love him, nor could I ever date him.

We would be a disaster.

People always leave, and Bonham was the leaving type.

He didn't have to sweet talk me or pre-warn me that we wouldn't be a fairy tale. Things like that weren't my style, so it was easy to swallow the truth of the matter of it never happening. Dreams were for the weak and hopeful, not the ones who knew the harsh and bitter truth of life.

Prince Charming could go fuck himself.

Bonham draped his arms across my shoulders after finishing his task. "There."

"It's either the Beam or the weed, but you're not so bad," I told him.

His face split into this incredibly sexy grin that sent heat between my legs and left my knees going weak.

"You're different, man, I can just tell," Bonham came and whispered in my ear.

I should've just let him take me right then and there, but I just had to open my great big mouth. "So are you."

Bonham bobbed his head. "I'm whatever you all want me to be."

"And what's that?"

"The guy who does what he wants because he 'doesn't follow the rules.' The guy who has no future. The guy who has to settle for girls like you because everyone else turns their noses up."

His words almost passed me by, until a few of them stuck. "What do you mean girls like me?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, but Cameron's...a good girl. You, you're much more aware of yourself. If a guy crossed you, you'd probably cut his balls or something. Cameron would probably try to bring him to Jesus or whatever."

I was pretty fucking wasted, but I was lucid enough to discern that Bonham was in love with Cameron. I mean, how could he not be? She was the total ideal girl, beautiful, caring, kind, and not up to messing around to pass the time. She'd probably want her first time to be special like nice girls often did.

I wasn't like Cameron.

Girls like me...did things like what I was doing.

I was just a girl with a pretty face and an ugly soul. Nothing special to write home about.

Girls like me.

"Cameron's what all guys dream about," Bonham was saying. "But when you're me, you don't get a chance because girls in her position think you're shit. I probably am shit, but I'd be pretty good," he added his next line so low, it sounded like a deep seeded wish of his, "for her."

If ever there were a reality of fairy tales and princesses, Cameron Camburn was the quintessential girl to fit the bill.

I should've been offended, or felt some way.

Instead, I didn't give a shit. I grabbed my bottle and tilted my head back, and pretty soon, I was gone.

___________________
Crimson and Clover 🎶 Tommy James & The Shondells

https://youtu.be/2LGD4MiSlEs

I Wanna Be Sedated 🎶 The Ramones

https://youtu.be/3wWrS-ssCTA

I Wanna Be Your Dog 🎶 The Stooges

https://youtu.be/pxYmMj3MBpQ