Page 4 of Make You Beg

I head to the second floor. I could see from outside there’s an attic, and I like the idea of that. I can do whatever the fuck I want there.

My father will never come up.

The room is dark and dusty. I’m pretty sure spiders have a nest here somewhere.

“This one,” I shout, claiming it as mine.

After all, it doesn’t matter which room I pick—this, too, won’t last.

1

MADDY

PRESENT - 16 YEARS OLD

My mom won’t shut up about her new boyfriend. I just found out an hour ago that I need to meet him, which only makes me more annoyed.

Now, we’re in the cab, on the way to the restaurant we’re having lunch at, and that’s torture enough. Do I also need his whole biography, including his love for lemon pie?

“He won’t eat anything with sugar. No cookies or cakes, I swear, he’s so healthy. Which you know, is hard for me because I’ve got such a sweet tooth!” Mom cracks up as she talks.

The driver eyes us.

He’s either a sugar lover and is judging Mom’s taste in men, or we’re being too loud.

“I managed to compromise on lemon pie, though,” Mom continues, swinging her hand as she talks. “He tried it, and he loved it. Obsessed is understating it, really. He says it’s because lemon in itself is healthy, so it’s the only time he allows his brain to cheat logic. Rich in vitamin C, he calls it.”

Mom’s eyes are shining. That’s how I know I’ve lost her.

She’s deep into the web of Lucas A’gosto, or whatever his name is.

She’s talked about him a few times, and they’ve been going out for three months. I still don’t understand why I need to meet him, though. This won’t last. I don’t want her to waste energy on him.

The only thing that’ll happen is she’ll get her heart broken, it’ll hurt, and then I’ll hurt.

Because if something hurts my mother, it hurts me ten times more. I don’t make the rules; that’s how it is.

I used to be Daddy’s little girl, but that was before the bastard left us when I was nine.

“For a better life,” was his pathetic excuse. As if Mom and I were not good enough for him. He had to, “Put myself first, Little Bear. I’m sure someday you’ll understand. I still love you, but I’m not ready to commit to this life yet.”

Well, he should have left when I was a baby if he didn’t want to commit. I don’t know what took him so long.

It only proves my theory that men’s brains take way longer than women’s to develop. Then, it makes sense.

We don’t need him anyway. Ever since, I’ve been a mama’s girl, and I’m proud of that.

My mom taught me everything I know. And she taught me to be an independent woman, to not rely on men.

So, I really don’t understand this bullshit she’s feeding me now. She’s contradicting herself.

“Mom.” I turn to face her and press my hands onto her shoulders. “Breathe.”

She laughs. “What do you mean?”

“You really need to stop hyping this man up,” I say.

Her face falters. Her shoulders, too, flattening under my hands. “I’m not hyping him up. I want you to be excited about him. He’s going to be your new father.”