Italicised sentences are lyrics from Ain't No Rest For the Wicked.
"She knocking knees
So full of pride
She made the move cause she's got nothing to hide."
- Free Love – Cage the Elephant
The Prostitute
Three Weeks Later
My pace was slow today as my thoughts wandered around the swirling ideas about my project. I only needed one more person. Who could I interview? My entire project was done on people that aren't cliché's. I didn't interview a homeless person or someone in jail. Everyone would do that. But it was looking like I didn't have any other choice, until I ran into her.
"Terribly sorry," I muttered, not looking at the person I stumbled into.
"Maybe you should watch where you're going, huh?" a honey smooth voice retorted.
I finally looked up at the woman. She was a prostitute. Her clothes screamed, "Buy me!" Her looks, however, told a different story. Her deep brown hair cascaded down her back and her chocolate eyes flashed against her creamy skin. Her petite body curved slowly and sensually from her chest to her thighs. She was beautiful and broken. She was perfect for my project.
"I'm sorry, Miss..." I prompted.
"Swan, Bella Swan," she replied coolly, crossing her arms over her pleather blue corset.
"Masen, Edward Masen." I grinned and held out my hand for her to shake. She got a sly smile on her face as she grasped my hand.
"You know, I've never seen a man who looked so all alone, could you use a little company?" she murmured seductively. "If you pay the right price your evening will be nice and you can go and send me on my way."
I replied with, "You're such a sweet young thing, why do you do this to yourself?"
Her seductive grin diminished. "What's it to you?"
What was it to me? This project may only be "Why?" to most of the students in my class, but my reasons had to make sense to me before I could interview someone.
I could say, "Well, I'm taking a psych class in college right now, and I'm interviewing socially unacceptable people. You seemed like the perfect specimen."
Yeah, or not.
Prostitutes were socially unacceptable. It was almost acceptable to be that kind of unacceptable. We have movies like Pretty Woman that glamorize hookers. Oh, yes, in every hooker lies a beautiful woman that can turn into a lady, a woman that just needed to rebel against her mother, a woman that can change. Who the fuck were they kidding?
I cleared my throat. "I like knowing people's stories. I like knowing someone before..."
"Before you fuck them?" Bella finished with a wily grin.
My chuckle was short and quick. "Yeah, I guess so."
"Okay, let's strike a deal, shall we, Edward?" Bella murmured before hooking her arm through mine and walking down the street. "I'll tell you all about my pathetic life after you pay me."
"So, I pay you before the sex then?" That's not usually how it worked, was it?
Bella laughed loudly, something that I hadn't expected from her. "Oh, God, no, that's against the hooker laws, for Christ's sake. No, silly boy, I'm going to give you a deal. I'll fuck you before the interview and after. Ya dig?"
"Yes, I, uh, dig," I replied, shoving my free hand in my pocket.
"So, where do you live, Eddie?" Bella asked as she scampered down the sidewalk beside me, barely keeping up to my long strides. She must have been at least ten inches shorter than me.
"Near Rainier Beach," I told her.
She let out a low whistle. "Slummin' it, huh?"
I couldn't help the grin forming on my lips. Just another tick to add to my book of statistics. Even a person that could very well live near Rainier Beach called it a slum. How amazingly hypocritical.
"Yes, I suppose you could put it that way."
"I live there, too." Well, there you go. "What building?"
I told her the name of my apartment building.
"No fucking way!" she exclaimed. "I live, like, across the street from you pretty much." She scowled in concentration. "I don't think I've seen you before though. I would remember such a weird hair colour. Is that natural?"
I crinkled my nose at the thought of dyeing my hair. "Yes, of course."
Bella laughed. "Duh, I should have known that. Guys of your stature don't dye their hair until it starts greying. You're only, what? Twenty-two? Twenty-three?"
"Yes, I'm twenty-three. How old are you?"
"Well, my I.D. says I'm twenty-four, but I'm really only nineteen," she explained bluntly, not even bothering to lie about her age.
A small smile found its place on my lips. "Thank you for being honest."
Bella shrugged. "It's weird, isn't it? The honest prostitute."
"Mary Magdalene was a prostitute," I informed her.
"Mary Magdalene?" she prompted, gesturing with her hand for me to commence.
"She was a disciple of Jesus," I said. "Haven't you read the Bible?"
She shook her head. "Mom wasn't around; Dad worshipped the river near our house as his god. Never heard the inappropriate stories."
"Well, Mary Magdalene was a prostitute. She was, like so many others, pulled into believing in God by Jesus. She's also believed to be Jesus' lover. Have you ever read or seen The Da Vinci Code?"
Bella shook her head again. "No time to read, no money to spare for movies."
"In that book, they say that Jesus had a child with Mary Magdalene, that his blood survives still today." I shrugged. "Just an opinion of a man who doesn't believe in Jesus being so glorious, I suppose. Do you believe in God?"
She sighed. "Well, I like the idea of God. I wish someone could forgive me for all of this." She swept a hand over her body. "But, honestly, I think once you're dead, you're dead."
"Reasonable," I murmured, not agreeing nor disagreeing.
"What about you?" she asked, looking at my expectantly.
"I...I'm not so sure," I admitted, running my hand through my hair. "I mean, my parents raised me as a Catholic, my mom is–was–Irish, but I went through a bit of a rebellious stage as a teenager, just like most teenagers do. I didn't believe in anything, not God, not my parent's wishes, not myself, nothing. I'm just starting to get over that rebellious stage now."
"That didn't really answer whether you believe in God or not now," Bella pointed out. Damn, she was observant. Most people would just nod solemnly and continue talking about their own shallow life.
I ran my hand through my hair again, nervous about being around someone with her ears open to my opinions. "I guess I'm the same as you. I like the idea of God, but I'm not so sure he's actually there. I guess I'll find out when my time comes."
"I guess," Bella whispered.
This was my opportunity to look at Bella when she seemed vulnerable. The idea of death obviously brought up some unwanted emotions. She was trying to leave her face blank. She was successful. Bella looked calm, cool, and collected, to say the least. But, her eyes gave her away. It looked like she had a million locked up tears inside, just begging to be shed.
But, then she closed herself off. In an instant, she was back to normal, or what I knew as normal for her. It was as if she'd never even been on the verge of showing a real emotion. How curious. She wasn't like the others. They practically begged me to put them out of their misery.
Bella, on the other hand, seemed to want no help. Her eyes and actions didn't contradict each other. She was...unusual.
I cleared my throat. "Do you want to grab something to eat before we...uh, go?"
She smiled, causing her nose to crinkle up in a cute way. "Sure, it's totally up to you, Eddie."
This time I crinkled my nose.
"You don't like nicknames?" she asked, grabbing my hand casually, like we were actually together.
I shook my head, trying to concentrate on her words and not her body. "No, not really. Ed, Eddie, Eduardo... They all annoy me. Pet names have never been my thing."
"Eduardo?" Bella cocked an eyebrow. "That's an interesting one."
"I had some interesting friends in high school," I replied.
"Apparently," she muttered. "Mm, let's eat here. I love this place."
It was a quaint, homey restaurant named Grandma Sue's. It had to be good. A grandmother's food was always the best.
"I don't think I've been here," I murmured, opening the door and gesturing for Bella to proceed.
"Oh, God, Edward, you've been missing out!" Bella exclaimed, quickly claiming the booth nearest to the swinging doors leading to the kitchen. "You have to have the Ukrainian dinner. I'm not suggesting, I'm telling."
My eyebrows came together. "What exactly is included in that?"
"Why does it matter?" she retorted, looking at the beverages area of the menu. "You got a weak stomach or something? Allergies maybe?"
"No, I just like to know what I'm eating." And I have a weak stomach.
She snorted. "Yeah, sure. You're just a pussy."
No one had ever challenged me like this before. At least, no girl ever had. Usually girls just fawned over me, agreed with my every word in hopes of getting a free fuck. Bella didn't fall for my shit. It was refreshing, but infuriating at the same time. I'd liked getting my way with women.
"Just tell me," I demanded.
Bella rolled her eyes. "Fine, you twat. There are perogies, cabbage rolls, and three smokies. You happy?"
"Yes," I answered quietly. She made me feel like an idiot. I didn't like it.
The waitress came over. She quickly took our orders and smiled at Bella like, well, a grandma.
"How're ya doin', Bella?" she asked.
"Ah, alright, Sue," she replied with a mischievous grin. "Y'know, same old, same old."
Sue got a sad look in her eyes. "Yeah, I know, honey. You know, you're always welcome at our house."
Bella blushed and looked away. "Oh, Sue, you know I couldn't intrude on you and Harry."
"Oh, hush, child," Sue scolded. "You know we wouldn't mind having you at our place. Hell, I'd prefer you with us to that hole in the wall you live in now, doing what you do for money."
Bella's eyes flashed with stubbornness. "Sue, I'm doing this my way. Charlie's gotta crack eventually, you know."
Sue shook her head and walked away, mumbling under her breath.
"Should I even ask right now?" I prodded.
Bella shook her head. "All in time, guy, all in time."
We waited for our food in silence after that. I was thinking of all the different situations. Maybe Charlie was her ex. Maybe he used to beat her, so she flew the coop and she's waiting for him to ask for her back. That seemed logical and fitting for the time and place. Or, maybe Charlie was her landlord and Bella was actually a rich kid that just got in bad and had to leave. Or maybe, or maybe, or maybe... So many variables.
The steaming plates of Ukrainian food came out with a smile from Sue. I took the first bite and I knew that this was my restaurant of choice now. My grandma had nothing on Sue. I cleaned my plate off in ten minutes, tops.
Bella giggled. "Told you so."
I just nodded before leaning back in my seat and rubbing my overfull stomach. I'd never felt more satisfied.
"This one's on me," I said before she could even think about taking out some money.
"Nah, it's on the house," Bella told me nonchalantly. She waved bye to Sue and headed for the door. "Sue lets me and my guests eat for free, since we're practically family and all."
I followed behind, stuffing my wallet back in my pocket.
"Where are we going?" I asked, not sure where this girl was leading me to.
"Well, you're house, I guess." She flashed me a smile. "I know where you live, remember?"
My head bobbed. I was terribly nervous about this. Yes, I was a man, and yes, I liked sex as much as the next person, but never had I ever considered buying someone to pleasure me, even if it meant helping my academics. Even I felt cheap, and I wasn't fucking someone for money. I didn't understand how girls could succumb to this kind of life now, when there were so many opportunities. True, we were in an economic slump, but there were still jobs available for nearly anyone. You might not get paid as much as you would as a prostitute, but you would feel a lot cleaner, I would think.
The rest of the walk to my apartment was silent. Bella was smiling and greeting people, but I had my hands stuffed in my pockets and I was nervously biting my lip and shaking my hair out of my face.
"Um, well, we're here, I guess," I mumbled, getting my key out and letting us into my building. We jogged up the stairs, onto the second floor and entered the first room on the right, looking over the street.
"This is it," I announced, gesturing to my one bedroom apartment.
Bella nodded with a smile. "Nice, very nice. Bigger than my place, I'll tell you that. A lot cleaner, too. Do you have someone come in?" She smirked. "Just kidding."
A smile graced my lips and I exhaled, letting some of the tension out of my body. Then Bella started to stalk towards me, still wearing that sexy, tantalizing grin. It was disorienting, seeing her just go for me like this. I didn't understand how she could do something like this all the time, with many different men. I suddenly felt jealous, but for no reason at all. I barely knew Bella; I had no claim on her. She was a prostitute, for God's sake! I knew coming into this that it would be a one-fuck wonder, not a long term thing, unless you counted two days, tops, a long term deal.
So, why did I feel this way? Maybe it was because I knew that she looked at every man like this, every seventy-year-old pervert, every STD-infected trucker, every husband looking for a quick lay before going back to his family. And it didn't seem right. Well, obviously prostitution wasn't right, but on an emotional level. It wasn't fair to Bella or me.
"Stop," I finally commanded. "I can't – I can't do something like this. This isn't me. I don't give money to girls to fuck me. Unless you actually want to have sex with me, I'm sorry, but I can't do this."
Bella blinked, falling back on her heels. I knocked her off her game. She looked down, her eyelashes brushing the tops of her cheeks.
"What if I told you I did want to have sex with you?" she asked after a few minutes of silence.
"Do you?"
"Answer the question, Edward."
"Well, I guess we could have sex, but only after I know you a bit better." I rubbed the back of my neck. "So, do you?"
Bella nodded and sat down on the couch against the wall. "I guess we're going to have to get to know each other better, Edward." She smirked. "Let's hear your side of the story first."
I trusted Bella, so I took a deep breath.
This was going to be a long night.
This is actually the first half of the end of the story. Do you understand what I'm saying? The next chapters are in chronological order.
And, in case you didn't catch this, I'm posting every weekend (whether it be Friday, Saturday, or Sunday is based on how well I remember that I'm posting this story). It will only run for eight weeks, unfortunately. This is a short fic. But a good one, I hope.
Mary
