Because They Wanted To: Stories Read Online Free PDF Page A

disgusted her; it made her want to draw back fastidiously, but it also made her want to join in and have gusto too. “You know,” she said, “I’m not really eighteen. I’m sixteen.” There was silence. The big English guy stopped eating. Elise loudly sucked up the last of her milk shake.
    “Fucking hell,” said the Englishman. “Fucking little liar.”
    “You selfish bitch,” said the young one. “Do you know how much trouble we could’ve been in? They’d of held us back and we’d miss the show!” All his happiness was gone, and his bitterness was comingout in a straight line. “You can just get your stuff out of our truck and get your ass back on the highway,” he said.
    They went out to the parking lot, the young man strutting with anger. “And another thing,” he said. “When someone stands you a meal, you’re supposed to say thank you.” He threw her backpack on the ground.
    She walked away so upset she trembled. She didn’t understand why they had gotten so mad when they’d thought everything else was so funny. She was a liar and a selfish bitch and rude. But then a woman in a fancy car had stopped to pick her up and Elise had sped away like she didn’t have to be those things anymore. She’d been glad she’d lied to those jerks.
    A nurse with big white legs and blond hair on her arms came out with a file folder and said, “Elise?”
    Elise followed the nurse back into the examining room. She took off her pants and put on a paper gown, and a woman doctor with a sad, handsome face came in and shook her hand. The doctor talked to her about AIDS and asked her questions about sex. She took blood from her arm and asked her to lie down for a pelvic exam. During the pelvic exam, the doctor asked her if she’d ever seen the inside of her vagina. When she said no, the doctor asked if she wanted to look. The doctor seemed to think it was a good idea, so Elise said okay. She lifted her head and looked in the mirror that the doctor was holding between her legs. The doctor smiled encouragingly. Elise thought that the doctor was doing this because she was trying to encourage Elise to relate to her body in a caring way, so she looked with what she hoped was a caring expression. It was a rather startling sight, probably because of the metal thing. “Thank you,” she said. Fleetingly, she thought of the men with the horses and how they’d feel if they could see how polite she really was.
    When she went back out into the waiting room, a group of people were clustered about the receptionist’s desk, so she had to wait a moment to make another appointment. As she stood there, she looked again at the support group flyers on the bulletin board. A small piece of torn-out notepaper with pink writing and drawings of flowers and a cat caught her attention. “Baby-sitter needed,” it said.“Good pay, friendly environment. No phone. Apply in person.” Elise recognized the street address; it was near Pigeon Park, only a few blocks from where she was staying. She asked the receptionist how long the ad had been there.
    “Baby-sitting?” The woman looked up, alarmed. She had a tiny green tear tattooed under one dark eye. She got up and went to the bulletin board. “Who put that there?” she demanded. She tore the ad off the board, crumpling the flowers and the little cat into a ball. “That shouldn’t even be here,” she said.
    But Elise remembered the address, and she went there straight from the clinic. The address was a tenement building in a slum with a dull, vaguely benevolent character. A family of foreigners sat on the front steps, drinking and spreading their lives out for anyone to see. The father sat holding a beer can between his big knees. He was sweating through his undershirt. There were patches of black hair on his fatty upper arms. He seemed intensely aware of Elise, even though he looked away. Inside, the foyer was close and full of innocuous smells made big and nasty by the heat. The glass