Authors: Andrea Smith
My parents had wanted me to go to college. It was no use. I was strong-willed and I wanted to be with Nick. I had always had a thing for Nick. As a kid, I had hounded Pete and Nick to the point of exasperation (on Pete’s part). Nick had always tolerated me as if I were his little sister.
Once I had gotten to high school, Nick started noticing me as something other than Pete’s tag-along sister. We had started dating at the end of my sophomore year. He and Pete were seniors. I remember how my status had gone from ‘geek’ to ‘sheik’ when my classmates saw Nick and I walking together in the hall; eating lunch together in the cafeteria, and squealing tires out of the parking lot after school.
Seeing Nick had always generated butterflies with me. All of the girls had told me how lucky I was to be going with Nick Camerucci. I had believed them. I had felt like the luckiest girl in the world.
My first time had been with Nick. I remembered it like it was yesterday. It was the summer going into my senior year. Nick had been going to the community college and had finished up his first year. He wasn’t going back, he had said. He had hated his classes. He was convinced he could make more money in Atlantic City. I had been devastated about him leaving Hoboken.
We had gone to the only drive-in movie theatre left in that part of the state. It was the only place we could go for privacy without one of our mothers hovering over us. We had been making out, with some heavy petting tossed in as usual. Nick had wanted to go further as usual.
“Nick, no!”
“God damn it, Gina. We’ve done everything else. What the hell?”
“It’s too tacky doing it in the car. It needs to be special.”
“It ain’t like I can afford a hotel right now,” he had grumbled.
“
That back seat is plenty big. I even brought a blanket.”
“I can see that,” I had said, “How romantic.”
I had finally given in because quite frankly, there was no good reason not to. We had hoisted ourselves over into the backseat of his old Pontiac Bonneville and covered ourselves with the blanket. Nick had deflowered me with one swift thrust, and then continued to pound in and out of me while I thrashed around trying to stifle my tears. It had not been a sweet and tender moment.
Afterwards Nick had said that I needed to get on birth control because he had no intention of minimizing the sensation by using condoms. So I had.
Nick had left for Atlantic City when school started back up. It was more than a month before I had heard from him again. I had gone nuts wondering what might have happened to him. I had been sure he had met someone else; a girl more worthy of his swarthy good looks and muscular body; his thick, black, curly hair and dark, brooding brown eyes.
When he had finally called, he was manic. He talked a mile a minute about his new job at the casino; the apartment he had rented. He wanted me there on weekends. I knew that my parents would have something to say about that. The rest of my senior year had been spent missing Nick; sneaking to Atlantic City to stay with him on the weekends when I could, and waiting for his calls when we were apart.
I had lived for graduation day. It had meant my freedom from school, parents, rules and curfews. I hadn’t wasted a minute packing for my move to Atlantic City afterwards. Nick and I would be living together as a couple. I couldn’t wait.
As promised, Nick was able to get a job for me at the casino where he worked. It was one that allowed employees to be age eighteen minimum. The money was great; the pressure was something else. Everything was video recorded. You had a pit boss to answer to if the house was suffering more losses than wins at your table.
Nick and I had enjoyed ourselves after hours. We had met friends our age at the casino and we hung out a lot. A couple of months after I had arrived, I noticed that Nick was partying quite a bit with his buddy, Victor. He would party all night and then sleep most of the following day. He had called off twice in one week.
I had driven his car back to our apartment after my shift on one particular day. I had cashed my paycheck and had collected over $250 in tips at the table. When I got into the door, Nick was flopped on the couch drinking coffee.
“Did you pick up my pay envelope, Gina?”
“I tried to Nick. Manny said you would have to get it yourself since we aren’t married.”
“What a bunch of shit,” he had yelled. “Gimme your pay envelope. I need some cash in about ten minutes. I’ll pay you back when I get mine.”
“No, Nick. I need my money for bills I have to pay this week. You don’t go back on the clock until Monday. I checked the schedule before I left.”
“What the fuck? Are you serious? Do you mean to tell me that I got screwed out of my Saturday shift?”
“Looks like it, Nick. What did you expect? You’ve called off work twice this week. Manny is definitely not happy with you at the moment.”
I was caught off guard when Nick suddenly raised his arm and backhanded me across the cheek twice. The force of it had knocked me back against the kitchen counter where our dishes in the drainer went crashing into the sink.
“Don’t you fucking talk to me in that tone, Gina! Do you understand me?”
He had my face pulled up opposite his; his fingers dug into my skin as he squeezed my cheeks. I had been frightened by the fury that I saw in his eyes. All I could do was nod. He had finally let me go, shoving me away from him.
“Go clean your face up,” he had snarled. He had turned away from me. I had watched as he grabbed my pay envelope and helped himself to some cash. I had then fled to the bathroom. I remembered how my lip had bled, along with my nose. I had been in total shock at Nick’s outburst.
I had not emerged from the bathroom for a good half hour or more. When I had, most of my cash was gone. Nick was sitting on the couch, snorting a line of coke off of the coffee table. He had looked up and smiled at me; his mood had been transformed by the potent, white powder.
“Hey baby,” he had crooned to me, “Come here.” I hadn’t wanted to get near him; but after what he had done to me, I had been afraid not to do as he instructed.
I had approached him cautiously.
“Want to do a line, Gina?” he had asked, handing me the skinny straw.
“I don’t think so, Nick,” I had replied.
“Suit yourself, babe; more for me.”
He had snorted another line and then pulled me down on the couch next to him.
“Hey baby; I’m sorry things got a little rough earlier. I was just pissed, you know? They are really fucking with me at work. You get that, don’t you?”
“Nick,” I had pleaded, “I love you. I don’t want anything to happen to you, baby. Coke is not how to deal with the stress.”
“You’re right, baby. I know what the best thing is for my stress.”
He had reclined back on the coach, pulling me on top of him. His lips crushed mine; his hand was behind my head pushing my face into his. My lip was still bruised and tender from when he had backhanded me.
“Nick, please. We need to talk.”
“We’ll talk later, Gina. Right now, we’re going to fuck.”
He had pulled my jeans down past my hips, trapping my legs in the waistband. I had felt his hand underneath my pelvis, unzipping the fly on his jeans to allow his erect penis to spring free.
He raised me up and freed one of my legs from my jeans so that he could spread my legs apart. He guided me down onto his swollen cock. I wasn’t the least bit wet for him at this point. It had hurt when he had then thrust himself the rest of the way into me. I had cried out in pain.
“You love that don’t you, baby?” he had asked. Nick was usually pretty rough in the sack, but not being allowed to get lubricated made it worse than usual. “This is how it should be; you and me fucking like this; not arguing about nonsense. Don’t make me have to punish you again, Gina. You need to watch your mouth with me.”
He had continued to pump in and out of me with no thought or care that he was tearing me up inside. The cocaine had seemed to make him last and last. I had prayed to God to let him come; mercifully, he finally did. I remembered I had to soak in a warm tub of water for several hours afterwards. My face had bruises and my private parts were swollen from his relentless pounding and my lack of lubrication. My next shift at the casino had not come early enough to suit me.
My thoughts were interrupted when my mother hollered up that Pete, Amie and Ethan had arrived. I ran my fingers through my hair and went downstairs to join them.
I had brought a plain, black sheath dress with a black lace shawl to wear to the wake. I put thigh high hose on with my plain black 3-inch pumps. Thankfully, Pete and Amie had boxed up all of the food Mom had made and driven it over to the Camerucci’s to drop off. I had stayed back at the house offering to watch Ethan.
He was down for a nap at the moment. I watched him sleeping in his portable crib, thinking how sweet and innocent he looked. His thumb was in his mouth. He was very content. I knew Pete and Amie were good parents. I also knew that Angie and Leo Camerucci had been good parents to Nicholas as well. That was why I had never told anyone in my family about what had happened that year I lived with Nick in Atlantic City. I knew it would have torn the friendship apart. I somehow felt that I had to accept part of the blame. I had continually managed to piss Nick off; I had learned fairly quickly what his hot buttons were, but I had continued to push them. He had pointed that out to me on many occasions.
I thought back to the time after he had first hit me. I realized that the drugs were playing a major part in how he had been behaving. I was not about to tuck my tail between my legs and run back home to Hoboken. Nick was the man that I loved. I would be with him through thick and thin. I had to keep trying if we were going to make the relationship work.
About a month and a half after our first blow-up, Nick had promised me that he would wean himself off of the coke. I knew that he had to in large part because he had been given a couple of disciplinary write-ups at the casino. One more strike and Nick was going to be fired. I had watched from a distance and it did seem as if Nick was cutting back. We had more cash than usual; his moods had become more depressed than manic. I had figured that was all part of getting clean. He had gained some of the weight he had lost back which was also a fairly good indicator for me that he was keeping his promise.
It had been Labor Day weekend. Atlantic City was crawling with end of summer tourists and gamblers. Nick and I had worked Friday night together, and Saturday day shift. We had made out like bandits on our tips. Stephanie, one of my co-workers, and the only real girlfriend I had there had called in before my shift ended and asked if I could take her shift that evening. She had the flu. I had told her I would check with Nick and call her right back. I knew by this time that I didn’t make decisions like that without Nick’s approval.
I had gone over to his table on my break. He was just getting relieved for his break.
“Stephanie called, Nick. She wondered if I would take her shift for her tonight. She has the flu. I told her I needed to check with you to make sure we didn’t have any plans for tonight.”
“I don’t know, baby. Do you really feel like pulling a double?”
“I mean, I don’t mind. We could use the money. It’s up to you, though.”
“Baby, if you’re up to it, then it’s okay with me. Do you need to keep the car or do you want me to pick you up after your shift?”
“If you wouldn’t mind picking me up, that would be great. I hate driving home that late by myself.”
“You got it, baby,” he had said, leaning down and kissing my lips, softly.