Red. Erica Spindler

the wall clock. “Not for a while.”

      “Great.” He curved his lips into a slow, satisfied smile. “As long as we’re here, what would you say about—”

      He leaned close to her and whispered what he would like to do in her ear. Laughing, she drew him to her again.

      Much later, Jack and Gina dressed in silence. He felt spent, energized, taut, and relaxed all at the same time. Gina walked him to the door, facing him when they reached it. “I wish you didn’t have to go,” she said softly, her cheeks bright with color.

      He cupped her face, leaned down and kissed her. “Can I call you?”

      She sighed. “Oh, yes.”

      He opened the door and started through it. She caught his hand, stopping him. “Jack?”

      “Hmm?”

      “Tonight, I did it with you just because I…wanted to. It didn’t have anything to do with…anything else.” She clung to his hand. “And it’s never…been that way for me before. It’s never felt so…good.”

      Satisfaction and pride swelled inside him. He brought their joined hands to his mouth. “Gina, can I ask you something? It’s important.”

      She nodded, searching his serious expression. “Anything.”

      “Don’t have sex with him. With Carlo. Okay?”

      “Because he’s your brother?”

      “Because I don’t like him. I don’t like him a lot.” He tightened his fingers on hers. “It’s really important to me, Gina. Can you promise?”

      “I promise, Jack.” She smiled up at him. “I’d do anything for you.”

      10

      “Jack. It’s time to get up.”

      Jack cracked open his eyes. His mother stood in his bedroom doorway, her expression troubled. His pulse began to thud in his head. She had found out about last night. But how? He had returned his friend’s car by the stroke of midnight, and had beaten his mother home by thirty minutes. He had heard her come in, had pretended to be deeply asleep when she had looked in on him.

      But still, he could see that something was wrong.

      “Morning,” he managed to say, his voice a rasp. He struggled into a sitting position. “What’s up?”

      She crossed the room to his bed, then sat gingerly on its edge. “We need to talk about what went on yesterday.”

      Images of him and Gina flew to his head, and his manhood stirred.

      He swore silently and quickly shifted his gaze, afraid that if he looked her in the eye, she would read every one of his thoughts, that she would know.

      “How are you feeling?” She laid her hand on his forehead. “You’re a little flushed.”

      He jerked his head back, embarrassed. “I’m fine, Mom.”

      “Mrs. Green told me you called. Early.” She drew her eyebrows together in concern. “You’re sure you’re okay? You feel a little warm.”

      If his mother knew why he felt warm, if she could read his mind, she would have a heart attack.

      He sat up straighter and looked her in the eye. “I wasn’t sick, Mom.”

      “You weren’t?” She shook her head, confused. “Then why did you call Mrs. Gre—”

      “I sneaked out.”

      She drew a sharp, surprised breath. “You what?”

      “I sneaked out. I had a date with Gina.”

      “Gina, the model?” his mother asked faintly.

      “I went to her house.” And fucked my brains out. It was the greatest night of my life. “To study with her,” he added, lacing his fingers together in his lap. Surely he could live with the small lie? After all, there were things a son could never tell his mother, even in an effort to be honest. “She invited me over when I was at the shoot yesterday.”

      His mother stared at him a moment, obviously thrown off balance by his admission. “Why didn’t you ask me if you could go?”

      “I started to, but you grounded me.”

      “But you went, anyway.”

      He hiked his chin up a fraction at the hint of both hurt and puzzlement in her voice. “Yes.”

      She searched his expression. “And you’re not sorry?”

      He thought of the night before and shook his head. How could he be sorry? Last night had been the most wonderful experience of his life. “I’m sorry I tricked you.”

      “You’re grounded again. For a month.”

      “I know. I understood the consequences last night.”

      She stood and crossed to his bedroom window. For several moments, she stared out at the day, the bright sky marred by smog. “You could have gotten away with it. I didn’t know,” she said as she swiveled to look at him.

      “Yeah.” He lowered his gaze to his hands, then lifted it to hers once more. “But a man stands up for his actions.”

      “A man? Oh, Lord.” She brought a hand to her head, making a sound of dismay. “What am I going to do with you? I’m way out of my depth here.”

      “It’s okay, Mom. Every kid grows up.”

      She laughed and turned back to the window, the choked sound anything but amused. He saw that her fingers shook as she ran them along the window ledge.

      “What’s wrong?”

      She turned and met his eyes. “You’re only sixteen, that’s what’s wrong. Practically a baby, still. You’re my…” She shook her head and looked out the window again.

      For a long time, she said nothing. Then she suddenly faced him once more. “For a long time, I’ve been thinking about making a change. And I… Last night, I came to a decision. I’m getting out of the business.”

      Jack stared at her, confused. “What do you mean, getting out of the business?”

      “Just what it sounds like. I’m not going to do fashion work anymore.” She crossed to the bed, and gazed solemnly down at him. “This is no life for you, Jack. Lord knows, I should have seen it a long time ago.”

      “No life for me?” He shook his head, struggling to digest her words. “I love what we do.”

      “We don’t do it, Jack.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “I do. I’m a makeup artist, it’s how I make a living. You’re supposed to live like a kid. Like a regular teenager. You’re supposed to go to football games and dances. You’re supposed to have a steady girlfriend and go to the movies with your friends. You’re not supposed to be surrounded by adults all the time.”

      “That’s such bullshit!”

      “Jack!”

      He threw back the covers and sprang out of bed. “Well, it is!” He flexed his fingers, his heart thundering. “Who says I’m supposed to live differently? Just because your childhood was different than mine, just because the kids at school’s lives are different than mine, doesn’t mean mine’s been wrong. Maybe they’re the ones whose lives are weird.”

      She shook her head. “You don’t understand. You don’t see because you’re—”

      “This has something to do with him, doesn’t it? After yesterday, he said something to you, didn’t he?” Jack glared at her, furious. “What say does he have in my life? You have an arrangement, remember? I’m yours and he doesn’t give a shit.”

      “This has