- Lucy -
I had just let myself into the apartment when my phone started to ring.
“Hey Dad,” I said, slinging my purse over a chair. “What’s up?”
“I’m worried about your brother.”
“Why? Did something happen?” I kicked off my black boots and wiggled my toes.
“No. He still won’t come out of his room.”
“Should I buy some pot and invite him over? I bet that would get him out of the house.”
“That’s not funny.”
I shrugged. “I thought it was.”
“I’ve never seen him so depressed, Lucy. He’s moping around in the same clothes, speaking in single syllable grunts-”
“Sounds pretty normal to me. I mean, he’s a teenage boy. It’s not like he’s going to sit down and talk about his feelings with you.”
“I just don’t even know what to say to him.” He let out a heavy sigh. “Your mother would’ve though. She would’ve known what to say-”
“She would’ve given him his space just like you’re doing,” I said. “Just let him know that you’re there if he needs you. Honestly, that’s enough.” I made my way towards the kitchen. “Let him work through his heartbreak with his guitar. It’s much better for him than going out and getting shitfaced.”
“He’s been doing that, too.”
“Oh good,” I said, opening the fridge and staring into it. “So he’s fine. He’ll get over it. Trust me.”
“Would you talk to him?”
“I don’t know. He knows I hated Ceci so I’m probably the last person he wants to talk to right now.”
“Please.”
“Fine,” I said. “If it will make you feel better, I’ll talk to him.”
“Thanks, Luce. I’d really appreciate it.”
“Sure.”
“But please don’t bring him any pot.”
“It was a joke.”
“Oh. Okay, good,” he said, letting a moment of silence linger between us. “So. How are things with you?”
“Fine. I just got home though, so I’m gonna get something to eat,” I said. “I’ll catch up with you soon. Love you.”
“Love you, too, sweetheart.”
I slumped on the couch and flicked through my phone. I had three new Tinder matches. One of them, Brad, had already sent me a message. “What’s up, beautiful?”
I sighed. Nothing boosted my ego like the empty flattery of a complete stranger. “Nm, you?” I texted.
“Hey bitch,” Fiona said, swinging the front door open.
“Hey.”
“Been back long?”
“No, just got in. Aiden dropped me off.”
“Sorry I missed him. Is he still with that stick insect?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Ugh.”
“How was work?” I asked.
“Same old.” She dropped her purse on the chair next to mine. “Why did you leave so early?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t have any more clients coming in, and I figured if I stuck around Chuck would piss me off.”
“No shit. I actually lost count of how many times his hand grazed my ass today.”
I shook my head. “That’s fucked up.”
“We have to get out of there.”
“I know,” I said. “But I just checked my savings yesterday, and it’ll be at least a year before I have enough for us to open our own place.”
“We could go work somewhere else in the meantime though.”
I nodded. “Believe me, I’ve thought about it. But the hassle of asking our clients to move- I don’t know- I guess I only want to do it once. Plus, we’d have to take a pay cut if we left, and then it would take even longer to get our own place.”
“He’s disgusting though.” She shuddered, a visible chill running up her body. “I think he’s actually getting worse.”
“What do you want to do? Cut his dick off and style hair in jail?”
She went to the fridge and grabbed a can of Coke. “Well, I wasn’t going to jump right to that.”
“Maybe I’m closer to snapping than you are.”
“Any matches today?” she asked, curling up on the cozy recliner we scored by the side of the road.
“Three.” I pulled out my phone. “This guy already messaged me.”
She took my phone and looked at his picture. “He looks yummy.”
“So did Cory.”
“Yeah, but as soon as you told me his name was Cory, I pictured the guy from Boy Meets World and totally lost interest.”
I laughed. “C’mon, he was cuter than that.”
“Same hair though.”
“Whatever.” I put my feet up on the coffee table. “I wish I had what Cory and Topanga had.”
“Too bad you never will.”
I cocked my head. “Why not?”
“Cause you never go on more than two dates with any of the guys you meet.”
“I haven’t met anyone that’s worth the investment.”
“I thought for sure you’d keep seeing that Spanish guy after you told me what a good fuck he was.”
“Yeah, me too… Until I realized he was a one trick pony.”
“You know what your problem is?” she asked, popping open her soda.
“I’m incapable of emotional depth?”
She laughed. “No.”
“What is it then, Dr.Phil?”
“You compare every guy you go out with to Aiden.”
“No I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
“That’s impossible. I’ve never even kissed Aiden, much less slept with him.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“I’m listening.” I leaned against the arm of the couch and propped my head up with my hand.
“I just mean it’s unlikely that you’re going to meet someone who gets you the way he does so it’s not fair to hold random guys to that standard.”
“Meh.”
“Seriously. There must be other guys out there who would be as funny and interesting to you as he is, but you never give anyone the chance to prove whether they have that kind of potential.”
“I don’t want to waste my valuable time getting to know someone who doesn’t cut it-”
“Whatever. That’s just my two cents.”
“And I really don’t think that’s true. Yeah, I’m comfortable with Aiden, but it’s not like I don’t give people a chance. If anything, I give too many people a chance.”
She smiled. “Yeah, well, someone has to make up for all the nuns.”
“I would love to meet someone with Aiden’s hair though. It’s so dark and thick and perfect. That’s the kind of hair on a man I can really get excited about.”
“Not me,” Fiona said. “I’d rather have an All American boy with blond hair and blue eyes who looks far too innocent to do the nasty things I’d have planned for him.”
“Speaking of hair, I think I might want you to change my pink streaks.”
“You don’t like them?”
“No, I do. I just think I might like purple better.”
“Sure, no problem. Whenev.”
“Thanks.”
“You want to go out tonight?” she asked, covering her mouth as she burped. “Excuse me.”
“I don’t know. I’m pretty beat.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say almost getting saved took a lot out of you.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not even close to saved.”
“Did he say how it happened?”
“Robotripping.”
“Fuck off.”
I laughed.
“Maybe we shouldn’t go out then,” she said. “I mean, if all we need is a bottle of cough syrup and Jesus will come party with us-”
“I don’t think Cory would appreciate you making light of his religious transformation.”
“Fair enough. I’d probably fall asleep before I hallucinated anything worthwhile anyway.”
“Probably. You get loopy from half a dose of Benadryl.”
“True.”
“I actually might go out of my way to see Cory again. His Mom makes a mean strawberry cheesecake.”
Fiona pulled her knees to her chest. “How would you know that?”
“Because he gave me a piece before I left her café.”
“Wait-what?”
“His parents were on the date.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry. That is too ridiculous.”
“I thought you would enjoy that.”
“I can just picture it. You’re there looking for an eligible booty call while your date can’t wait to introduce you to his parents. Classic.”
“One for the books anyway.”
“Well, even if you don’t want to go out, I have to shower anyway. I have Chuck’s ick vibes all over me.”
“Understandable. In the meantime, I’ll have a beer and see how I feel.”
“C’mon.” She dropped her arms to her sides. “We should go out. Otherwise you’ll just stay in and swipe left all night.” She walked over to the fridge and stared at the cool glow.
“Are you suggesting I’ll enjoy it more if I do it somewhere louder where the drinks are more expensive?”
“Yes, infinitely,” she said, pulling out two bottles of Sunset Wheat and grabbing the bottle opener off the counter.
“I’ll think about it. It’s still early.”
She set the beers down on the coffee table. “I know, but I don’t want to pay any cover charges,” she said, popping off the bottle caps and leaving them where they rolled.
“Well, it’s free to drink here all night.”
She handed me a beer. “You’re no fun.”
“That’s not true.” I took a swig of beer, thinking the berry taste would’ve gone great with another slice of cheesecake.
“You have forty five minutes to change your mind.”
“Or not.”
She narrowed her eyes at me.
“Either way, I’ll definitely have a decision by then.”
“Fair enough,” she said, clinking her bottle against mine. Then she turned on her heels and headed down the hall to take a shower.
I set my beer down and picked up one of the bottle caps, rolling it between my fingers. When I heard the bathroom door close, I pulled my sleeve up to my elbow and looked at the scars on the inside of my arm.
They were raised and white, having healed a long time ago. Still, I dragged the sharp edge of the bottle cap over them, scratching along the scar just hard enough to feel something.
Anything.