I believed her. “Me either.”
“But how can you pass up such an opportunity, right?” It seemed she needed me to validate her decision so I nodded. She exhaled in relief. “Yeah, I mean, it’s not that big a deal in the big scheme of things. Some girls aren’t virgins by the time they’re fourteen nowadays. In a way, if you think about it, we’re kinda special for being chosen.”
No. There was no slapping a pretty label on what was happening and I couldn’t pretend it was anything other than what it was, not even for sweet, tender Tana. We were cogs in a machine bigger than us, we were one of many moving parts. Best to remember that or else we’d be crushed. “Let me guess…shitty parents?”
Tana’s eyes widened as she shook her head, answering, “No, my parents died when I was a kid. My nana raised me.”
“So your nana is terrible?”
“Goodness no, she’s a saint. I love her with everything I have.”
I frowned, truly confused. “So why are you…?”
Her green eyes welled with tears. “She has dementia. I need the money so I can help take care of her like she took care of me. I don’t know what else to do. I can’t get a good job without a college education and right now I can’t leave her for longer than a few hours at a time. It’s not her fault that she forgets things and gets confused. I can’t let her down. She needs me.”
That pulled at my heartstrings (I didn’t realize I had those) and I felt the need to give the girl a hug. Not that I’m a big hugger by nature but it seemed the right thing to do. Tana was selling herself for a noble reason, which made my reasoning seem selfish and self-serving. I blinked back tears that came out of nowhere. “It’s not going to be so bad,” I said, even though I had no idea how it was going to be. “It’ll be over in a pinch and then…we’ll be rich enough to do what we need to do with our lives. Just think of how much better you’ll feel when you no longer have to worry about money.”
Tana nodded, wiping at her eyes, grateful for my kindness. “I know. I’m just not sure how I’m going to live with myself afterward. I mean, it isn’t right what we’re doing.”
Her quiet confession poked at my own fear. “You shouldn’t have to apologize for doing what you feel is right for you,” I said, refusing to feel cowed by someone else’s version of morality. If there was anything I’d learned, life wasn’t fair and the rules didn’t apply to everyone equally. “Don’t beat yourself up over doing something that’s going to change your life forever. It’s one night. And then, it’s all over.”
“What if they want more than one night?” she asked fearfully. “I don’t think I can do that.”
The thought hadn’t occurred to me. Then, I hardened my voice as I answered with a bravery that wasn’t entirely false, “Then they’ll pay out the nose for each extra day.”
“You’re so strong,” Tana said, awed. “I wish I was more like you.”
“No you don’t,” I told her. “Try to stay sweet, Tana. Don’t be like me.”
The door opened and Olivia returned with another servant and two more girls trailing behind her. The servant carried more silky pajamas and handed a set to each girl as they wandered in.
I surveyed the competition — we were all competing for those top dollars, right? — and realized we were all different in looks and size but there was one thing we all must have in common…desperation. All of us had a reason to sell ourselves and that, in itself, created a strange connection.
Olivia and her servant exited, locking the door again as they left. I turned to Tana. “Does it feel like we’re prisoners in a really nice hotel?”
“Yeah, why do they lock the door? That’s creeping me out,” Tana answered with a tiny shiver. “It’s bad enough that we’re doing this in the first place, why make it worse?”
The brunette with the short, sassy hair and big golden eyes claimed the bed furthest from the door and regarded everyone with wary curiosity. “Should we do a roll call?” she ventured and I wasn’t sure if that was a good idea or not. I mean, it’s not as if we were all going to hold hands and sing campfire songs. Besides, I already had a best friend. But maybe it wasn’t a terrible idea and I was just being a prickly bitch so I relented. “Nicole. What’s yours?”
“Jillian but my friends call me Jilly.”
What a perfect name for her, I thought. Perky and sweet…like a cheerleader’s name. No question as to why she was picked up. She could probably do a back handspring and land in the splits right onto the guy’s dick. Some guys were into that. Tough luck if my buyer hoped for something like that from me. I couldn’t do a cartwheel to save my life.
Tana smiled. “That’s cute. I’m Tana.”
Our gaze swung collectively to the other one, a long-haired dark brunette with dazzling blue eyes who looked as friendly as a wet cat and I realized with a start I knew her. Holy fuck.
It’d been a long time since I’d seen her. We’d attended the same elementary school — sixth grade, I think? — back when my mom and I lived in Brownsville. For a short stint, my mom thought she was going to become a theater actress but like all of my mom’s half-baked ideas, it hadn’t panned out.
Of all the places to run into someone from my jigsaw past, this seemed unreal.
Her name was Dylan. I didn’t remember her last name but I recognized her just the same.
Did she recognize me? Our gazes met and held. She knew. I said nothing and neither did she. I guess we were keeping that information private. Tana decided to make the first move, going to Dylan with an outstretched hand. “I’m Tana…”
Dylan ignored Tana’s offer and Tana took the hint. “Okay…well, if no one minds, I think I’ll take the bathroom next. I don’t know what the punishment is for not bathing before bed but I don’t want to find out.”
I didn’t blame Tana. I didn’t want to know either. Tana scooped up her pajama set and disappeared behind the bathroom door, leaving me, Jilly and Dylan behind.
I looked straight at Dylan. “Why’d you take the deal?”
“Why did you?”
“Because I have a shitty mother and I’m not going to go down with her ship. I want out and the only way to do that is to have money. This seemed the fastest way to get what I needed,” I answered with blunt honesty. “Your turn.”
But it was Jilly who spoke up. The girl with the obvious chip on her shoulder remained stubbornly silent. “Foster care system reject,” she said, raising her hand. “Once I turned eighteen, I was turned out. The state was no longer obligated to care for me and well, I didn’t much care for the deal that my last foster dad came up with, so…I bailed. Two women shelters and a group home later…I was contacted by Madame Moirai, I mean not actually Madame Moirai herself but someone working on her behalf. I took the deal because I have nowhere to go and I figured if I stayed on the streets much longer, I wouldn’t have a virginity left to bargain with.”
Cold truth. Streetlife was harsh.
“What was the deal your foster dad offered?” Dylan asked. “Let me guess…he wanted to pluck your cherry, too? In return, he’d offer you room and board for services rendered?”
Jilly held Dylan’s sardonic stare and nodded. “Yeah, something like that. Needless to say…I told him to fuck off.”
I chuckled, agreeing with her. Sounded like something I would say, too. I didn’t want to but I liked her. There was something about Jilly that made me want to smile and I wasn’t easily influenced that way.
“Ironic that you’re here…selling your cherry again, right?” Dylan said.
“Yeah, well, at least here I get to make the choice and I’m getting a helluva lot more than a bed and a meal.”