Breaking All the Rules Page 4

  “The abuse,” I whispered, “That’s never okay.”

  “But she doesn’t see it that way. I just know she’s gonna go out there and ‘cope’ like she calls it. She’s just gonna wait it out until he comes back and it all happens again.”

  “You’ve never talked to her about this, have you?”

  “Nah. There’s no point. She doesn’t care enough about me to make the effort of talking to her about it. If she isn’t all wrapped up in my dad and taking his shit, she’s out there passing the time with other men and getting high until he decides to come back.”

  “But maybe, if you made the effort, maybe it could be worth it.”

  “It isn’t. Trust me.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, fighting back tears.

  “Why? It’s not your fault.”

  “That doesn’t mean I can’t feel sad that… well, you know, it’s the opposite for me I guess. You know how involved my parents are.”

  “Oh, yeah, it’s the exact opposite but…”

  “But what?”

  Johnny shook his head, “Not my place to say.”

  “Say what? That it’s not necessarily a good thing? You can go ahead and say it. I know it’s true. They’re too involved. They’re controlling. They’re just, well, they’re too much and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Yes, I am sure. I’m equally as sure as you are. My parents will never change, and I cannot question them. To disrespect them like that… I couldn’t do it. The only thing I can do is continue to work hard for them, even if it feels like nothing will ever be good enough. I just have to keep going.”

  Johnny looked at me and pulled me into his arms. He’d always wanted parents who paid more attention to him, but after meeting me and getting to know me, he knew there was another extreme end to the spectrum. He ran his hands through my brown hair. He always told me that he couldn’t believe my parents thought I wasn’t ‘good enough’. He thought I was way more than “good enough,” so he hated seeing how much pressure I put on myself. He couldn’t stand how much I put myself down, but he knew better than to try and talk me out of that mindset. Just like I knew better than to push the issue about his parents.

  “Let’s just quit,” he said suddenly.

  “What? What do you mean?”

  “Let’s just quit with all this crap. Leave it behind.”

  “Johnny,” I responded quietly, pulling away just enough to look at him.

  He smiled, “We should just run away together, you know? We should just be together and get away from all this and live our own lives. We can, I don’t know, go to New York.” He said in a lighthearted tone. I could tell there was a hint of seriousness in his voice; or at least hopefulness.

  “Go to New York?”

  “Yeah, Jenny. New York. We’ll- we’ll go there and forget about all of this. Everything we tell each other and everything we don’t we’ll just leave it all behind us. It will be our past life and we’ll build a new one together in New York.”

  I stared at him for a moment before letting out a soft laugh, “Johnny, you know that’s impossible.”

  “I do?”

  “We’re teenagers.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “We don’t have a job. We definitely don’t have money. How can we make it on our own? We’re nothing but a pair of teenagers in love and-” I stopped abruptly.

  Johnny looked away. His eyes were glazed over and there was a look in them I hadn’t seen before. Even though he started it off as a joke, as something whimsical to consider just to take our minds off our crappy lives, a small part of him thought he could actually convince me to run away with him.

  “Johnny, it’s not that I don’t want a life with you. It’s not that I don’t want my own life, but we can’t just… It’s not realistic. Not to mention that it would make it next to impossible to have our own career in the future. We’d run away, but a few years down the line what would our lives look like?”

  Johnny knew it was my parents talking. He also knew I felt some of it too. There was reason behind what I was saying, but that didn’t lessen the sting. He was chasing an uncatchable ideal. I couldn’t blame him. I knew exactly what that felt like.

  “Yeah, well, running away or not… I have a feeling my life won’t ever amount to much anyway. So, it doesn’t matter.”

  “Johnny, that’s not true.”

  He cleared his throat and turned to look in to my eyes, “You know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me?”

  “Johnny,” I said almost pleadingly.

  “No, it’s true. You really are. I don’t know. It’s like you help keep me grounded or something. It’s just like I feel something real or think it or… Look, I don’t know how to describe it, but you really are the best thing in my life, Jenny.”

  It didn’t feel like the right time to tell him about why I was so angry with my parents that day. It wasn’t the right follow up to the confession he just made. Johnny hadn’t just told me something beautiful, he opened up to me in a way that he never had before. He was being vulnerable with me. I had seen sides of him I knew nobody else had, but this was different. Still, I couldn’t stop the words from pouring out of my mouth.

  “It’s too bad my parents won’t ever get it,” I said.

  “What?”

  “What you said. They wouldn’t care if I’m the best for you because, to them, you’re the worst for me.”

  He looked hurt, “What does that mean?”

  “Johnny, they found out about us. They found out I’m with you and we had this huge fight. I’ve never- I’ve never argued with my parents like that. And the fact that I did this time, it was just like I was feeding them ammunition.”

  Johnny pulled away from me and looked away. He stayed silent. I could tell he was upset, but he was putting up that wall I was all-too-familiar with. I cursed at myself silently for telling him, but I couldn’t help it. I also couldn’t stop from going on. It was like my mouth had a mind of its own. I had a whirlwind of mixed emotions and I had to get them all out.

  “They told me what a disappointment I was because I let a boy distract me. They told me I’d bring shame to the family and threatened what might happen if my grades slipped. They told me I had to break up with you because you were nothing more than a lowlife kid from the other side of the tracks. They said, being with you would ruin my life and the fact that I fought back proved, to them, that you were already a toxic influence on me.”

  Johnny tried to pull away more, but I grabbed his arm and said desperately, “But that didn’t stop me from telling them that I love you, Johnny! I don’t think those things! I told them I wouldn’t—couldn’t just break up with the person I love.”

  “Yeah? And what did they say to that?”

  I sighed, “They laughed in my face and told me a teenaged girl couldn’t possibly know what love was.”

  Johnny looked at me. He stayed quiet for a long time, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned in and cupped my face between his hands. He looked deep into my eyes and took a long breath.

  “Jenny, it doesn’t matter what they say. You know it’s real because the only person who can say what love is to you… is you.”

  Chapter Six

  Jenny

  I wanted to tell Johnny that he had to have some idea of what ‘real’ meant. I wanted to remind him of the things he told me back when we were teenagers, but I couldn’t. Getting personal with him was the absolute last thing I could do. I stared at him as he looked out the window of my office. He looked bored, or at least he was trying to play it off that way.

  I looked down at his chart and grimaced. Everything about this situation was bringing back old, painful memories. I still remembered the day he told me his life would never amount to anything. My parents found every opportunity to remind me of the same thing. I thought back to the first day I looked over his chart. When I first saw his it, I pictured a typical defia
nt criminal looking for an alternative to spending time in jail. I enjoyed a challenge, but I knew I would get little gratification from working with clients like him. It’s rare for criminals like that to change. But I didn’t want to think of Johnny that way. I hated thinking the Johnny I used to know was completely gone, and the man in front of me was just your typical criminal. The thought alone felt like a punch in the stomach. I knew it couldn’t be true. There had to be a part of his old self somewhere inside of him. Somewhere along the way, he just got lost. It had to be true.

  It would hurt too much if it wasn’t.

  “So, you’re not gonna say anything, Doc? Aren’t you supposed to convince me what to believe ‘real’ shit is or something?”

  I was quickly yanked out of my thoughts. I had no response for him and, once again, felt like I was being completely unprofessional.

  “The purpose of these sessions is not for me to convince you of what to believe, Mister Santos.”

  Johnny smirked and rested his hand on his crotch. I gulped. I could tell that he noticed I was a little rattled. He rubbed himself over his jeans a little and glanced down at my chest with a sleazy look in his eyes. He raised an eyebrow and jerked his head up.

  “You’re even hotter now than I imagined you would be,” he said, his hand still on his crotch.

  “Mister Santos, that is highly-”

  “It’s kind of hot too, when you call me that.” he leaned forward.

  I leaned further back against my chair and quietly said, “Please maintain your composure, Mister Santos.”

  He laughed and sat back, legs spread, “My composure? The fuck is that? This here is my composure. I came in here to get this shit over with. Little did I know, hot Jenny Lin would be my doc.”

  “That is completely inappropriate.”

  “Since when have you known me to be appropriate? Isn’t that what you liked about me back then? I was the bad boy who drew you in.”

  I wanted to tell him that the Johnny I knew in high school was not nearly as inappropriate or crass as the person sitting across from me now. There were a lot of things I wanted to tell him and ask him, but all of them would have crossed a major boundary. I looked the clock on my desk. I had never wanted the end of a session to come faster. He was trying to mess with my mind. I was used to my clients trying to pull a fast one on me. I was usually able to ignore it, but Johnny was able to push my buttons. He had always been able to push my buttons. And he knew it.

  “Mister Santos, why don’t we start over?”

  “Sure. Whatever you want, Doctor Lin. I’ll start over and do it your way, so I can get out of here and fuck some pussy. Unless… You know you want-”

  “No, thank you, Mister Santos! Again, I urge you not to be so inappropriate. That was completely uncalled for.”

  “Feels like I’m in Boyle’s office all over again,” he joked.

  I cleared my throat, “Let’s begin with how you ended up here.”

  “Well, I was gonna take the bus, but I ended up walking instead,” he grinned.

  I clenched my pen and fought the urge to draw in a deep breath. The less I showed him that his little jokes and lewd comments got to me, the better.

  “Very well, you walked. Why did you decide to do that?”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes, Mister Santos, seriously.”

  He looked at me and I saw a flash of the past in his eyes. He looked at me almost like he used to when I disarmed him with one of my dry jokes. I felt the back of my neck grow hot. The warmth coursed through me, and for a brief second all the affection I felt for him in high school came rushing back. I closed his file and set it on the desk, folding my hands on top. I was determined to be professional and show him that I was able to stay levelheaded.

  “Didn’t have money for the bus.”

  “You didn’t? Because, according to your file, the terms of your release stated that you should have received a public transportation card so that-”

  “Fine. Fine! You caught me. I’m lying. I just didn’t feel like taking the bus, all right?”

  “Why not?”

  “I wanted to walk.”

  “Why?”

  “Fresh air? I don’t know. Nice day, so it seemed like it was as good of a time as any to walk.”

  I opened his chart and scribbled a note. Whether he knew it or not, I just picked up on the fact that he was savoring his freedom. Maybe he didn’t even think of it that way. Maybe he didn’t want to admit to himself that the little things in life mattered to him, but they did. He was still human after all.

  “Okay. You walked here. Then what happened?”

  “Aren’t doctors supposed to be smart? I know you’re smart, unless you lost your brain somewhere in the last ten years.”

  “Mister Santos, I am referring to your entrance into my office.”

  “What about it?”

  I scribbled another note, “Did you think it was appropriate?”

  “I’m not so concerned with what is and isn’t appropriate,” he responded quickly.

  “Very well, then. Maybe that is something we should address.”

  “You mean it’s one of my issues? My problems? Something to fix?”

  “Again, Mister Santos, I prefer not to use such terminology-”

  “Johnny,” he interrupted me.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You said you call patients how they wanna be called. Call me Johnny.”

  “Very well, I will call you Johnny,” I replied with a slight tremble. I swallowed against a dry throat.

  He had to have known that calling him Johnny would get under my skin. He looked at me in a way that was familiar and foreign at the same time. I saw his eyes wander down to my chest again. He shifted in his chair and smirked. He looked at me almost in the way he used to look at me in the past, but there was something new in his eyes.

  “I like the sound of that. I missed it,” he teased.

  “Johnny, why do you enjoy skirting around the lines of propriety?”

  “What?”

  “I am asking what it is you enjoy about disregarding what is considered appropriate or inappropriate. Why do you do it?”

  “I like to live free,” he said simply before placing his hand on his leg, right by his crotch, and leaning forward, “It feels real good to let loose and have fun, you know.”

  His voice was heavy with innuendo and the look in his eyes sent a chill straight down my spine. My heart pounded like thunder. I was toeing the line of professionalism and I didn’t like it one bit. Still, I straightened up and tried to get ready for my next question. I felt like anything I asked he would turn around on me to elicit some sort of reaction. And even if I didn’t show it to him, I was sure he could tell he was having an effect on me. Besides, it’s not like he was exactly hard on the eyes.

  He was even more attractive than he was in high school. His broad shoulders and strong arms filled out his T-shirts nicely. His hair was spiked in a messy style and his jawline was sharp, strong, and covered in the perfect amount of stubble.

  Thinking of the way he talked about letting loose and feeling good made my mind wander. And with my mind, my eyes wandered also. I gazed over his face and his chest. I had been trying to suppress these feelings from the moment he walked through my door, but for the first time I allowed myself to look at him in a sexual way. I looked at every muscle and vein in his arms until I noticed something on his right forearm, something that I was surprised I hadn’t noticed earlier. It was a large scar. It wasn’t a clean cut either. It was rough and jagged. I wanted to ask him about it, but I knew it was too soon. Besides, I was trying to bring my wandering mind back to the ground. I couldn’t look at him like that. I had to see him as a client.

  But then he shifted in his chair and moved in closer to me. My breath left my chest and my body froze. I imagined what it would feel like to run my fingertips over his scar. I imagined how his muscles would tense up as I traced my fingertips over them.

  M
y thoughts were getting out of hand. I had to steady myself.

  I forced myself to stare in to his eyes, but even that was a mistake. I nonchalantly cleared my throat and tried to stay levelheaded. I had a job to do. I had a responsibility to him as his doctor.

  “You find it amusing, then?” I finally managed to ask.

  “That’s one way of putting it, yeah,” he shrugged without taking his eyes off me.