Author's note: This is a story about a girl who trades her innocence for money. It's a contest story, so please vote. Mostly this is a cautionary tale about material culture.
A Christmas Carol
, but with a much darker ending. I hope you like it.
1
Casey Wells picked her way up the broken porch stairs of her best friend's house. The Marshalls lived in pig alley, a block of dilapidated rowhomes two streets back from the steel plant.
Casey rapped on the screen door.
Mr. Marshall hollered her in from the couch. He sat with his shirt open, watching TV with a beer in his hand. He worked shifts at the mill and was still in his dirty overalls.
"Hey, Case," he said. He looked tired, gesturing with his beer for her to head upstairs to Kimmy's room.
Casey could feel Mr. Marshall's eyes on her as she crossed the room. He was in his late thirties and his wife had died two years ago, leaving him alone to raise Kimmy and her twin brother Brad. Casey didn't mind that Mr. Marshall found her attractive. She'd never had a boyfriend. Her body had developed late and her breasts were still small, her hips somewhat narrow and slim. At the stairs, she turned and found Mr. Marshall staring at her bottom. A warm rush of heat swelled up inside her body, making her feel flustered. His eyes rose to meet hers and he grinned with no shame. The lusty look in his eyes made Casey turn and race up the stairs. He didn't look at her that way when Kimmy or Brad was around. Loud music was playing in Kimmy's bedroom. Casey burst through the door and Kimmy jumped up and started stuffing things under the bed.
"What cha got?" Casey asked.
Kimmy looked up, all round eyed and guilty.
A wave of distrust washed over Casey. She hated herself for feeling suspicious, but tensions had been building between the girls for the last few weeks. Kimmy had suddenly become distant and evasive. She'd started lying about stupid things, mostly stuff having to do with money. Like, Kimmy would show up for school wearing a cool new outfit, but then she would lie and say it was something Mr. Marshall had picked up for her at Goodwill. Casey knew perfectly well what you could and could not get at Goodwill.
"Don't you knock?" Kimmy said, eyes blazing.
Casey was about to apologize--—a knee jerk reaction to being put on the spot--—but then she saw Kimmy was holding an iPhone. Casey looked at the phone in shock. "Wow," she said. "You got an iPhone now?"
Kimmy laughed. But it was an uncomfortable laugh, like the kind of laugh you made when you had something to hide.
Casey suddenly felt nauseous. "Kimmy," she said. It came out in a long drawn out whine. Kim-m-m-y-y-y-y.
Kimmy patted the mattress next to her.
Casey sat while her friend held the phone at arm's length and snapped half a dozen selfies, posing cheek to cheek. Casey stared at the photos. Her friend was grinning and happy but she just looked lost and bereft. A text message appeared on the phone and at the same time something flashed on the face of the watch on Kimmy's wrist. Casey looked closer. The watch was one of those fancy new gadgets that only the rich kids from across the river could afford. Casey had no idea how much they cost, but she knew it was more than she and Kimmy made at Hardees. A lot more.
"I don't even know how to do this yet." Kimmy grinned, toying with the watch. Casey creased her face, waiting for some sort of an explanation, but Kimmy didn't provide one.
"Are you selling drugs?" Casey finally whispered.
Kimmy scoffed but didn't add anything more. The two girls sat in silence. An uncomfortable silence. Casey was about to just get up and leave when Brad came in the room. He was counting a fistful of cash and looked up, saw Casey, and stuffed the money into his front pocket.
Kimmy gave him a furious expression.
He apologized and tried to back out, but Casey balked. "Wait, wait. What is going on?" she demanded.
Kimmy and Brad looked at one another.
Finally Brad broke the silence: "You should tell her," he said, speaking to Kimmy. "She might be interested."
"Get the fuck out of my room," Kimmy snapped.
Brad looked evenly at his sister for a minute but didn't say anything. He took the money from his front pocket, peeled off a few bills, and then laid them on the bed. He left without saying another word.
He'd laid two twenty-dollar bills and a fifty on the bed.
A week's pay.
Casey could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. Her heart was breaking. Her best friend was keeping secrets. She didn't want to cry in front of anyone so she got up and made her way out. At the door, she stood with her back to the room and said she'd always considered Kimmy her best friend. Her voice cracked.
"Wait, Casey. Wait."
Kimmy crossed the room, spun Casey around, and put her hands on her shoulders. Kimmy looked into her friend's eyes and said it was complicated. She said they were still best friends. "I'm not telling you," she said, "mostly because I don't want you to hate me."
Casey suddenly burst into sobs.
Kimmy held Casey and then led her back to the bed and got a box of tissues. They blew their noses and eventually composed themselves.
An awkward silence hung in the room.
Kimmy was bright red. Her face, her ears. Even her neckline was red. She looked so anguished Casey wanted to let her off the hook, but she knew she couldn't do that. She had to know.
"Is it something illegal?"
Kimmy thought for a minute and seemed surprised by her answer. "You know--—it probably is. I never really thought about it that way."
Kimmy took Casey's hands in hers. "You have to promise never to tell anyone."
Casey nodded, eyes wide.
"You know that creepy guy who moved into the house on Bleeker?" Casey did know the guy. He was a thirty-something guy with heavy features and tangled hair. He occasionally came to Hardees in the afternoon and gave the counter girls unwholesome looks. Kimmy chewed her lip. She was keeping her eyes down, staring at the money in her hand. She took a deep breath. "You're going to hate me when I tell you," she whispered.
Casey put her hand on Kimmy's shoulder. "I could never hate you, Kimmy."
Kimmy looked up. "No one."
Casey nodded.
"He takes pictures of us." Kimmy sighed. "He pays us to come to his house and pose for him. Naked." Kimmy looked at a spot on the floor. Casey sat quietly, her whole body suddenly on high alert. A tingling between her legs made her shift her hips and clench her thighs together. Kimmy said the guy had started with Tommy and Dana because Tommy lives near him on Bleeker. Then he'd asked those two if they had any friends who wanted to earn some money. Now it was six of them going over there, including her and Brad.
The tingling between Casey's legs turned into a dull throbbing. She reached for Kimmy's hand. "Do you guys have... sex?"
"No," Kimmy said too quickly, looking away. "It's just pictures."
Casey narrowed her eyes. That sounded like a lie.
"I mean we have to do
some
