The Trashy Virgin(2)

By: Cassandra Dee

“Oh hi,” I said faintly. “I’m Katy.” I was wearing nothing but a thin pink nightshirt for this midnight introduction, but then on the other hand, I was so stunned from events that it barely registered. Besides, I didn’t think Brent had a son, so who was this boy?

The teen eyed me warily as well.

“I’m Jason,” he grunted, looking me over before nodding at Brent. “She here to stay?” he asked.

And Brent’s low growl answered.

“For now, yes,” he replied. “Let’s get you settled Katy, we’ll talk tomorrow after you’ve had a good night’s rest.”

And gratefully, I was ushered into the room at the front of the mobile home with a tiny, tidy bunk and a nightstand fixed to the wall. The clean sheets and neat space were a luxury compared to what I was used to, my mom kept the most unbelievable stuff around until it was gross and really rank. So I slept like a log in the new environment, and the next day the boy introduced himself, sort of.

“Yo,” he grunted. “You go to Central?”

I nodded, hesitantly pouring myself a mug of coffee in the tight confines of the kitchen. I wasn’t used to being around men in such close quarters, usually it was just my mom and me. So suddenly caught with two huge males was startling, and I was unsure, fluttery inside, still dressed in my pink nightshirt with no shoes.

“Yeah,” I murmured. “You?”

He nodded.

“I’m a senior, never seen you before.”

And I colored.

“Yeah, um, I’ve missed a lot of class this year,” I said, biting my lip. It was because I was home, taking care of my mom, but Jason didn’t need to know that.

He cast an eye over my form appraisingly, and I went hot again. Oh god, I was wearing almost nothing and there was both a teen boy and an adult man in the room. Embarrassed, I crossed my arms over my breasts in an effort to be modest, snapping my knees shut.

But Brent interrupted my thoughts.

“Katy, why don’t you go back and get dressed, pick up whatever you need, and then Jason will give you a ride to school? I’ll be home at six today, we’ll talk then,” he growled.

And I nodded.

“Sure,” I mumbled, shooting the big man a grateful glance before turning to the boy. “I’ll be back in just a second.”

“Make it quick,” Jason commanded, and anger flared in my chest briefly. Who was this kid who thought it was okay to order me around? Seriously, he couldn’t have been older than me, not a day over seventeen.

But Brent chuckled, hearing us spar, his low growl filling the air, leaving no doubt as to who was boss.

“Kids,” he drawled, “let’s play nice.”

And that was my first introduction to my new living situation because I never moved back into my mom’s trailer. Heck, it’s still sitting empty and dark, my mom’s been in the hospital for a year now and I swear the management office is going to do something, when they get around to it.

So yeah, it’s been a year now, and I’ve settled into a routine with Jason and Brent. Every day, my new “brother” and I head off to Central High for our senior years of high school, driving across the tracks to a fancy school with a couple of slots for poor kids like us. And every day, Brent goes off to work with the union          , there’s a lot of demand for steelworkers with all the construction nearby, so he’s got a steady, stable job and as far as I know, has never been late with bills.

But Jason isn’t Brent’s son or stepson or any relation whatsoever. Jason’s another stray that Brent pseudo-adopted, offering him a place to live because his own home situation was so messed up. I’m not even sure what Jason’s family history is, I just know that he won’t talk about it, he clams up and ignores me, so Brent’s urged me to be patient, give him time to relax. And I respect that. After all, I try to avoid any discussion of Tina except that with my mom, everyone knows, her hysterics were impossible to miss.

So yeah, the two men are my family now. We’ve been living like this for a year now, and Jason and I both turned eighteen recently, celebrating our birthdays together since we’re both September babies. We’re our own little happy trio for better or worse, and given my rocky real family situation? My mom who’s in a psychiatric ward as we speak, and my dad whom I haven’t seen since I was five? I wouldn’t trade my men for the world, no way.



I’m not exactly a do-gooder but sometimes the situation’s so hopeless that you’ve got to intervene. And with my steady job and solid paycheck, I had to do something for the kids around here.

Jason was the first. I found him living under a bridge one day, literally camped out alone, looking worse for the wear.

That day I’d finished a job and was walking home from the site. I’d gotten out earlier than usual and taken a detour on a whim, a path by the river next to the woods. More out of curiosity than anything, I strolled along, savoring the crisp smell of leaves in the air, a classic New England fall, and it led me to an abandoned bridge, the stone mossy and crumbling, probably couldn’t hold more than a child. But to my surprise there was a teen boy camped out nearby.

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