Livia Lone

33-THEN

She had just changed into sweats and gotten into bed when the door to her bedroom opened. Mr. Lone, of course. She sat up, her heart pounding in anxiety and disgust. What was he doing? He never did the bathroom thing late at night-only when Mrs. Lone was out of the house. Where was she?

He stood in the doorway, wearing a robe over his pajamas, watching her. “You’re back late,” he said.

“There was a party.”

“Ah, a party.” He stepped inside the room, closing the door behind him. He looked at her. “Well? Was the party fun?”

“It was okay.”

“I didn’t know you liked parties.”

“I-I don’t like them. Sean wanted to go.”

“Ah, Sean. Your friend.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. If he was here for the bathroom, she wanted to just get it over with.

He sniffed. “Is that alcohol I smell?”

“No,” she said, without thinking.

“Don’t lie to me, Livia,” he said, his voice louder.

“I-someone put something in the punch. I didn’t know.”

“Oh, but you know now?”

“I didn’t know until after I drank.”

“My God, you’re not even sixteen, and you’re drinking alcohol? In my house?”

“It wasn’t in your house-”

“That’s hardly the point. The point is, it’s illegal, Livia. You committed a crime. And you’re my daughter. I’m responsible for you. Does that not mean anything to you?”

She’d been feeling so many things earlier in the day. When Malcolm told her he loved her. When people were congratulating her at the party. When she and Sean had talked in the playground, about things they’d never talked about before. When he had touched her shoulder, and her hair, and her cheek, and started to lean closer.

But it was all being smashed now, broken apart, taken from her.

Mr. Lone walked over. He stopped at the edge of the bed. She could hear his breathing. And see the bulge under his robe.

“I guess you’re old enough for almost anything now, Livia. Is that it? Maybe I just haven’t appreciated that. That you’re old enough.”

“Please,” she said, and hated herself for it.

His breathing was getting louder. He reached for her hand, and placed it on the bulge.

She tried to satisfy him with just her hand. But it wasn’t enough. He made her do the other thing, too, the thing Skull Face and the others had made her do, the thing with her mouth.

She managed not to cry. But all she could think about was that Sean had wanted to kiss her. And she’d run away. Run away to this instead.