Somebody Love Me (Journeys) by Michelle Sutton

doubted it would turn into something permanent like marriage, but if I could get somebody to love me like I'd always dreamed of, then the future didn't matter anyway. I wanted to feel cherished now, and Mick had accomplished that.
    As I closed the door and stepped inside my house, I sighed. Mick was handsome and he thought he could love me. I ate up every sensation his words inflamed in my heart. In fact, I couldn't wait to get to bed so I could fall asleep and dream of Mick. When I woke up, it would be tomorrow. Then I could see Mick again.
     
     
     
    Chapter Ten
     
     
    Mick and I continued to see each other throughout Christmas break. We had sex every time we got together. Sometimes we had a few beers first, but most of the time we were sober. In fact, I couldn't think of a time we didn't go to his aunt's house and sneak up the stairs to his bedroom. Not that I minded.
    If nothing else, Mick knew how to turn me on, though lately our time in bed was shorter and more rushed. Sometimes I felt like a prostitute because of the things he asked me to do, not that I'd ever admit it to my friends. I rarely saw them these days anyway.
    It could have been the cigarette he insisted on smoking every time he rolled off of me that brought thoughts of prostitution to mind. Or maybe it was the fact that he'd come to expect sex whenever we got together that felt degrading. Except, unlike a whore, he never paid me to do it. I gave myself away for free.
    My birthday came and went without me telling Mick. I didn't want him to know that I'd lied about my age. Maybe next year when I turned seventeen, I'd tell him the truth. If we lasted that long. Lately, I wondered why I didn't just dump him. He gave me little incentive to stick around these days.
    Less than two months later, things went south fast. I should have suspected something was up when I gave Mick a carton of cigarettes for Valentine's Day and all he gave me was a cheap box of candy and a shirt that he'd probably stolen from his aunt's dresser. It was woefully out of style and it smelled like cat piss.
    I threw the ugly thing into the trash as soon as he left me on my doorstep, and I cried. Either his giving me a gift had been an afterthought, or he'd found someone else to screw around with on the side.
    I didn't care if he did say he loved me every time we had sex. I knew if a guy had real feelings for a girl, he'd put more thought into a gift. Tearing the wrapper off the box of candy, I sighed and peered inside. Even the chocolates looked like they were at least a year old. Without tasting them, I threw the box in the trash to join the rag he'd given me.
    My pride had been wounded and I decided maybe Mick wasn't so great after all. Sex was becoming too much of a routine for us anyway. I wanted a guy to like me for more than just a good time in bed and for what I could do to please him. I wanted a guy who actually cared about my thoughts and feelings.
    Mick didn't have that level of interest in me and I had no reason to think he'd ever want to change. Rather than confront him about his lack of concern and his crappy gifts, I decided to avoid him. The sad part was he didn't even care. Apparently I'd lost my usefulness, or like I'd suspected before, he'd found a replacement before I dumped him.
    Maybe I just needed to get away from my friends, the city, and everything familiar since it did nothing but discourage me in my pursuit of a decent relationship that would eventually morph -- I hoped -- into true love. When I brought the subject up to my parents, they were less than thrilled with the idea of me moving out of state to live with my Aunt Laverne.
    So I dropped the subject for a few months and did whatever I could to avoid Mick and his renewed phone calls. Then I met a guy named Tim and things started looking up. When my parents weren't home, which was rare, I'd invite Tim into the house and we'd climb into my bed. That lasted for a few months, until I discovered Tim was cheating