Avery
I’m sitting at my desk in my fake bedroom, getting my thoughts together on what I’m going to say about the video I’m about to shoot.
Today, I’m pimping a product, massage oil. It’s a tossup for what type of products I do most, massage oil or vibrators. This one is simply called Love Massage and comes with an instruction pamphlet on how to give a back rub.
The company sent me two samples, as always. One to try out and one to pimp.
Nathan, my ex-boyfriend, would’ve loved this. He always loved getting – though not giving – massages.
Oh well, fuck him.
My best friend Darla’s photo pops up on my screen. She’s also a YouTuber. We each started vlogging at the same time, on a whim and a dare.
I hit accept and FaceTime opens. Darla’s crazy curls fill my monitor, her face a pale dot in the sea of red hair.
“Hey, how’s it going?” I say.
“Same old. Please tell me you’ve left your house and met someone.”
Darla can always be counted on to dive straight to whatever’s on her mind.
“Nice to talk to you too.”
“Whatever, lady, don’t try to avoid the subject. It wouldn’t have to bring it up if you’d answer the questions in my texts.”
“I’ve found a yoga class,” I insist. I haven’t yet, but I will.
“Great. When do you start?”
I know she’s only worried about me meeting people in my new town.
“I haven’t had time yet, I have to get my house organized, then I’ll start.”
“Sounds like an excuse to me.”
“A valid one.”
“Fine. But don’t think I’m dropping this,” Darla says, pointing at her webcam for effect.
“It doesn’t matter anyway, you’re only an hour away, come visit if you’re so worried I’m a Lonely Loretta.”
“I am. Not this weekend, but next weekend I’m coming to see you. Don’t say you’re busy, Avery, or you have plans, because I know you don’t.”
My mood lifts a bit and an easy smile spreads across my face. “Good. Come, definitely. And bring a paintbrush. I need to get rid of the dusty rose in my bedroom.” I put all my effort into my fake bedroom. My real bedroom still looks like it belongs to a little old lady.
“Sure, I can paint. How hard can it be? I’ll bring vodka too. We can get drunk and bitch about Nathan.”
“I’m over Nathan.”
“I know, but he just got engaged.”
My face drops, the smile vanishes. “But I only moved out six months ago.”
“Obviously it’s a rebound relationship. She’ll figure out how pathetic he is.”
We talk more, and after five minutes she has me laughing again even though my heart is still heavy with the news of Nathan getting married.
This sucks.
My entire life is talking about sex. But I haven’t had any in over six months.
I thought buying my own house would motivate me, but all I can think of is making the mortgage payments.
My heart just isn’t in this anymore.
Not that that matters. I now make too much money from this venture to walk away from it. It’s taken me several years to build my following, I would never throw it away. It just means I have to get better at faking it.
I can fake it. I am a woman, after all.
It’s just my videos seem more and more like lip service, and less and less like something I believe in.
The massage oil video and editing takes a couple of hours. I spend the rest of the day working through my task list.
Around seven, my doorbell rings. I take my time walking down the stairs and opening the door. Piper stands, grinning wide, on my doorstep.
“Hi, Avery. Mind if I come in?” she asks, and pushes her way past me before I can answer.
“Hey, Piper. Need more help with your homework?”
My heart leaps a little, I probably shouldn’t be this excited at the prospect of hanging out with a teenager, but she’s the first person I’ve seen in person all week. FaceTiming people just isn’t the same.
Darla’s right, I really need to make an effort to start meeting people in this town.
The challenge won’t be in meeting people, it will be in making sure no one in this town ever, ever, ever finds out what I do. I’ve created an entire cover story of writing a novel to tell people when they ask. A crime novel with lots of deaths – something as far from sex as I can think of.
“Nope, I just thought you could use some company.”
My brow narrows as I try to figure this kid out. “Was your dad angry you were here last week?”
“No, he knew where I was. He just had a hard day at work.”
“Do you want a drink?”
“Just water, please. I only drink water, it’s cleansing.”
“Right. Of course.”
I take the few steps to my kitchen at the back of the house. It looks like it was last renovated in the seventies, and has great features like grim-coated dark wood cupboards and a gold fleck counter.
As soon as I get some more cash, I’m having it ripped out and replaced with oak cupboards and granite. There, next time I need motivation, I should just come down here.
Returning to the living room, I set one of the glasses of water down in front of Piper and hold the other glass in my hand.
She’s taken the same spot on the couch again, so I sit in my armchair.
It’s been a week since Piper was last here. I’ve been busy settling in and getting myself organized. The only place I’ve been is the grocery store so I haven’t checked the town out much or met anyone else.
Piper’s dad keeps a low profile, and the only time I see him is when I spot him in his backyard from my fake bedroom window.
Though I’m not even sure I can be bothered to meet him, he was so rude that night. Figures I’d end up with some dick neighbor. At least the kid is cool.
“Avery, did you know almonds are poisonous? In some countries, you can’t buy more than ten pounds of almonds at once, because if you ate it all, you would die. It’s one of the most poisonous poisons,” she says.
“Really? Are you sure?”
“Of course.”
I make a mental note to Google that later.
“Do you ever see your mom?”
“Never even met her. It’s just been me and my dad my entire life.”
He’s never had any long-term girlfriends? I find that hard to believe, given how gorgeous he is. Although it serves him right, since he grunts instead of talking.
“Would you rather eat ten pounds of almonds or drink a cup of water from the toilet?”
“Definitely the almonds.”
“But you might die.”
“I think I’d puke before I got to that stage.”
Piper comes out with all sorts of random facts, most of which I’m unsure whether to believe.
She picks up her glass, downs the rest of the liquid and sets it back down on the table. Wiping her mouth with her arm, she looks at me and says, “Can you help me buy a bra? I don’t know how to pick the right size, and neither does my dad.”
I’m taken aback and speechless for a moment.
“Sure, of course,” I say.
How could I say no?
“Can we go to Target on Saturday?”
“Absolutely. As long as it’s okay with your father.”
I change the subject, and we talk about other things. The doorbell rings just after seven.
Piper leaps up and says, “That’s my dad.”
At least the doorbell is an improvement over banging on the door.
I get off my old leather chair and follow Piper to the door. She flings it open, and her father stands on the doorstep. He’s wearing a tight, black T-shirt that molds to the form of his muscular body. I try not to stare, but he also has a number of tattoos poking out of the sleeves.
“Good evening,” I say, forcing my eyes to stay above his neck.
“Sorry my daughter keeps bothering you,” he says with a scowl. It’s an improvement over grunting.
“Dad,” Piper protests.
“It’s no problem, honestly. It’s nice to get to know my new neighbors,” I say, smiling.
“I’ll make sure she doesn’t bother you again.”
“She doesn’t bother me,” I say, tousling her hair. “In fact, is it okay if I take her shopping on Saturday?”
He screws his face up and glancing between me and Piper. He asks, “Why?”
“She’s going to buy me a bra. Right, Avery?” Piper says.
His face drops, and he says, “I’ll think about it.”
“It’s no problem, honestly. I know men can’t figure out girl stuff. She needs someone to take her shopping.”
“I can raise my daughter just fine,” he says, snarling. Without pause, he takes her hand and pulls her towards their house.
“Hey Piper, what’s your dad’s name?” I call out as they cut across my lawn.
She looks behind her, the streetlight sparkling in her eyes and a hesitant smile on her face, “Knox.”
“Nice to meet you, Knox,” I call out.
He grunts without looking back.