Free The Skin Show by Kristopher Rufty Page B

money.
    Why
didn’t Andy just look for me there?
    He
probably realized she was upset and, not wanting to make matters worse, kept
his distance. However, things were still made worse by him not coming to
the store to check up on her. Sure, she could have called him, but she wanted
to see if he would make the first move.
    First
move to what? Leaving Danny for Andy after you left Andy for Danny is a stupid
idea, not to mention a bitch of a thing to do.
    “The
hell’s wrong with me?” she murmured.  
    She’d
hurt both brothers enough. If she was going to truly leave Danny, then she needed
to leave Andy as well. Her eyes wetted at the possibility. Losing Andy somehow seemed
even worse. The thought terrified her, made her ache all over. Her throat felt
tight and thick as she climbed the rickety wooden steps to the front door.
    Nicole
pulled back the storm door, letting it rest on her shoulder. Her hip poked
through the square breach where the screen mesh should be. It had been ripped out
a couple years ago and never replaced. Putting the key to the knob, she
inserted it into the slot, but didn’t turn the lock. She paused there, the
realization of how truthfully fucked up her life had become.
    How
had it happened?
    She’d
graduated high school on the honor roll, gotten a two year Associates degree in
business, and was dating Andy through it all. After college, she told Andy she
wanted to spend some time apart, spewing a long speech about how he needed to
get his priorities right, and most importantly, demanding that he grow up. She
was sick of busting her ass while he partied and dealt drugs, him sleeping most
of the day while she trudged through class on loans. When she’d left him that
night, she’d actually prayed to God for her sermon to have gotten through to
him.
    Apparently,
it had, seeing how quickly he’d turned things around.
    But,
visiting a bar with some friends the Friday night after breaking up with Andy,
she ran into Danny. She drank a dozen beers with him, then came back to this
forsaken trailer for a weekend sex spree.  
    And,
she’d been here ever since. More than ten years had blinked by.
    Now
the tears did come.   
    Not
now. Stop it.
    Taking
a deep breath, she held it in until she no longer could. Exhaling, her chest
expanded, feeling tight and achy. It helped delay the sobbing fit, but she knew
it hadn’t conquered it. Sometime tonight she would have to let it out. Just not
right now.
    She
used her thumb to wipe the tears from her eyes.
    Don’t
want Andy knowing I’ve been crying.
    He’d
ask questions, get her talking, and they’d most likely end up where they both wanted to be, but shouldn’t be. She should tell him, tonight, that they
can’t ever be. Maybe that was why he was here? To tell her the same?
    She
doubted it.
    Pushing
the door open, her fingers felt like they might poke through its cheaply thin
surface. The door swayed inward. No lights were on inside. She doubted Andy
would be hanging out in the dark for her to come home. She tried to recall if
the power bill had been paid on time and she thought it was.
    Then
why aren’t the lights on…?
    Power
outage? No way. Other trailers on the way in had had their lights on.
    Fumbling
her hand along the wall, her fingers found the light switch. She flicked it up.
Nothing happened.
    Maybe
the bill hadn’t been paid after all.  
    “Andy?”
Her voice sounded strange in the silence, shaky and thin.
    No
reply.
    A
chill lodged in her spine. Although she didn’t hear anything, she couldn’t help
the inclination that someone was in there, hiding in the shadows.
    Waiting.
    Oh
really? Waiting for what? To ambush me? Get over yourself, Nicole.
    She
shook her head, then clicked the penlight back on. Pointing it into the
trailer, she waved it this way and that. She saw the couch, her ash tray on the
middle cushion, a pyramid of crinkled cigarette butts about to spill over the
brim. The coffee table looked as muddled as normal underneath