Page 44 of Glass Wings
“I believe in you, darlin’,” he said. “If that group is nothing but a bunch of fucking weirdos, then we are better off.”
13
Hadley | Sacramento, California | Early 2000s
It was nearlyfour in the morning when Hadley limped into her apartment, feet swollen from the heels that she planned to donate first thing after she woke up tomorrow. She shut the door behind her, relieved to see that whatever party Hector had thrown in her absence was not still going.
Red and black solo cups had covered every surface in the apartment, with a few tipped over and lingering in their self-made puddles. Empty bags of chips and premade store-bought dips were tossed around the kitchen. Cheap Halloween-themed balloons were already deflating near her desk. This was the type of party she felt like she’d belong at, unlike the one she had just left. No, that world wasn’t hers.
She looked over at the couch as Hector snored so loud that he himself seemed startled by it, flipping his body in the opposite direction without waking and letting his hand fall to the floor. His blankethad fallen off, and he slept in black boxer briefs with lightning bolts all over them. Hadley tip-toed over to him, covered him back up with the blanket, and turned towards her room with plans to cut herself out of the dress that was witness to her near miss of rape.
This job had been going so smoothly, all of her experiences with clients before this night were largely positive, fun even. They were meaningful and full of connection. She didn’t feel like a dirty hooker—she felt like she mattered. This past evening had been the opposite; she was a prized cow for sale at the fair, awaiting the slaughterhouse.
Maybe she had already fallen too deep. It was time to start applying for college-aged jobs again, even in this high unemployment economy.
“Hey, you came home,” Hector’s scratchy voice called out to Hadley before she closed the door behind her to her bedroom. She could tell he was still drunk from his party by the hiccups mixing between his words. Hadley walked out of the hallway and leaned against the wall to look at him.
“Looks like I missed a hell of a time,” she smiled at him.
“Why does it look like a drag queen did your makeup?” he asked, burping up at the ceiling.
“Close,” Hadley laughed, “the girl at the department store makeup counter.” She let her back slide against the wall until she was sitting on her butt, the tight fabric nearly ripping from the position.
“It seems a little slutty to go to a work party dressed like that, I think,” he said, closing his eyes and draping his forearm across his face.
“Hector, I don’t know what I’m doing,” she said, putting her forehead to her knees. “I’m so scared. I’m so confused.”
“You aren’t writing anymore,” he hiccuped. “Whatever this job is, you should quit because it’s stopping you from doing what you’re supposed to do. I’m going to star on Broadway, and you’re going to write plays and musicals on Broadway, for me. I can’t let you fade away from it unless I want to be a shitty friend, you know?”
“What do I do, then?” Hadley asked rhetorically in a hushed voice.
Hector sat up, a little wobbly, and looked at her.
“You can start by telling me the truth about what you’re doing,” he said definitively. “I might be drunk and a little high, Hadley, but I’m not an idiot.”
Hadley felt so tired. Her body was screaming. Her mind was spinning. She was in a swirl of defeat and anxiety.
“Hector,” she whispered, black tears falling from her eyelids as the wetness mixed with her mascara, streaking her face. “Hector, I’m so stupid. I was so desperate, and I wanted to help make your dreams come true, but really, I just didn’t want us out in the street.”
Hector got up off the couch and stumbled over himself before partially diving on top of his best friend, holding her to his chest.
“Say it,” he hiccuped, smelling of vomit and tequila.
“I have sex for money,” Hadley whispered, tears streaming down her face like a damn breaking. “I’m worthless. I’m talentless. I’m nobody.”
The relief of no longer holding in this secret, of her constant hiding, was something she didn’t exactly expect, but it crashed down on her as she sobbed.
Hector shushed Hadley while rocking her gently from side to side like a child. Hadley lifted her head after a few minutes, Hector’s fingers under her chin guiding her to look up at him.
“I love you. You are someone important to me, and yes, you might be a little stupid,” he laughed.
“You’re not angry or weirded out?” Hadley asked in slight disbelief. All this emotion, all the grief over the loss of who she was and what she was willing to do . . . was it simply not a big deal?
“I’ve had sex for money seven—no, nine times since I was seventeen. It makes me feel like shit, but I think a lot of people have done it at least once. It’s not really that big of a deal these days.”
Hadley stared at him, her mouth slightly open in surprise.
“Look, all I have to do is tell my parents that I’m not gay. All I have to do is say we are engaged, and then we can have a room at my house. That is our true worst-case scenario, not sleeping on thesidewalk.” Hector stood up and stumbled back to the couch. “You go to sleep, my little slut,” he slurred. “Tomorrow is a day.”
