Thank God

I open and close my eyes, just to make sure that it’s really gone. It is. It took them long enough, but they finally got their shit together and deleted it. Smiling, I lie back in my bed and sigh. It’s finally over.

Or at least it will be, once I sort through the fifty or so emails that came in overnight. It’s like all the creeps come out to play once midnight, Saturday morning hits. I open my email and delete, delete, delete. I don’t even read them. I get to the last few and pause. Every email is titled Hello or something as equally generic. Except for this one which reads:

What’s orange and sounds like a parrot?

With a title like that, how can I not open it? I click open and laugh when there’s one single line.

To get the answer, you’ll have to text me.

Or I could just google it. I copy the phone number and open a new text. It’s barely eight in the morning but what the hell?

Me: Text you for the answer, huh? Or I could just Google it. But, you got me to do something two hundred other people couldn’t, so okay, I’ll bite. What is it?

Anon: You bite too? You should’ve put that in your ad—which I’m pretty sure is fake, by the way. Back to the biting, though. It’s a whole other demographic you could’ve tapped into. The answer? Carrot. But I bet you did Google it…

I smile and shuffle up the bed so I’m sitting with my legs crossed, then I type back a response.

Me: Funny. With lines like that, you should be in comedy. And yes, I Googled it.

Anon: You know what? That’s not the first time my comedic abilities have been acknowledged, so thank you. So, Furries, huh? Should I be locking up my toy collection?

Me: After that comment, I’m rethinking engaging you.

Anon: We’re engaged? Shit. I haven’t even introduced you to my parents. I don’t even know your name.

Me: Darcy. Do I get to know yours? And I’m sure your parents will love me. Well, either that or they’ll hate me.

Anon: I’m James.

Me: Hi James. So, you think my profile is a fake? That’s a risky assessment to make. What if it’s not?

Anon: Did I offend you?

Me: No. But I’m sure you will.

Anon: It’s like you know me … wanna be friends?

Me: How do you know I’m not a middle-aged man with a beer gut who still lives with his mom?

Anon: How do you know that’s not what I’m hoping for?

I giggle to myself as I walk downstairs and into the kitchen. I stop in my tracks when I see Cameron sitting there. He’s the last person I expected to see sitting at the table.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“Breakfast with Dad,” he explains. “Well that was the plan. Only he forgot to tell me he was called in for an early meeting. On a Saturday, no less.” He reaches over and slaps Mack on the back. “But it doesn’t matter. I still get to spend some time with my favorite brother.”

“Coffee?” I ask while grabbing a cup for myself.

“No. Caffeine will keep me up all day and night.” He winks at me. “It’s also notorious for keeping me awake.”

“Good one.” Mack guffaws, slapping himself on the leg.

“God, don’t encourage him,” I groan.

“It’s sweet of you to call me God, but Mack will do just fine,” he says with a straight face.

“Fuck, you’re both as bad as each other,” I groan.

“Darcy.” I turn to Cameron, who is nodding at his brother. “Really? Cussing in front of a twelve-year-old?” he shakes his head. “I expected more from you.”

“Are you kidding me?” I laugh. “Have you heard some of the shit that comes out of his mouth?”

“He’s a child who doesn’t know any better,” Cameron mocks. He turns back to Mack. “So, Mack Attack, what’s been happening?”

I turn back to making my coffee, tuning out of their conversation behind me. Until Mack turns it into one about me.

“Well. I don’t the full story, but the gist of it is Darcy’s into having sex with guys, while they’re dressed as Care Bears.”

“Mack, you little shit,” I hiss. I lunge for him, but he ducks out of my grasp and runs out of the room, laughing hysterically.

“So, is it strictly Care Bears you’re into or will any childhood toy satisfy?” Cameron asks. He raises his eyebrows. “Because I’m pretty sure I’ve still got a Winnie the Pooh costume somewhere at my apartment.”

“Of course you do.” I plant my hand on my hip and smile sweetly at him. “Because what grown man over the age of twenty-five doesn’t have a Winnie the Pooh costume hanging in their closet?”

Mack pokes his head around the corner.

“Hey, Cam,” he says casually. “If you happen to have that old Winnie the Pooh costume lying around, do you mind if I borrow it?”

Cameron starts to laugh. I narrow my eyes at him and then turn my glare onto Mack.

“Go,” I order. “Both of you. Get out.”

Mack shrugs innocently. “What did I say?”

“If you’re not leaving then I am,” I say, flouncing out.

After the nightmare that was breakfast, I escape to my room as quickly as I can, which means I’ll get to work nearly forty minutes early. It’s still a better option than spending those forty minutes sitting in the kitchen with Cameron Hunter. I shake my head because I can’t even think about him without getting worked up. He irritates me so much.

I quickly finish getting ready, so I can leave for work. Even though I’m going to be early, it beats hanging around here, waiting for time to pass.

Me: So, aside from someone who trawls personal ads, who are you?

James: Aww, you want to spoil the fun already?

Me: Sure, it’s fun till I end up on some C grade TV show, chasing you and your seven cats around a warehouse because you’ve been catfishing me.

James: Well that’s a little farfetched. I’m allergic to cats.

Me: Really?

James: No.

I giggle, then I panic when I see the time. I have two minutes to get my ass through security. I smile at the guard on duty, the same one from the other day. He winks at me again, waving me through. At least now I don’t have to hide my phone, because once I signed that agreement confirming I wouldn’t take photos or record video or audio, I was good to have my phone with me.

By lunchtime, I feel like I’m starting to settle in. I spent most of the morning sitting in on admission assessments—with the permission of the client of course. Watching Sarah, I feel like I’m learning a lot, probably more than I did throughout my entire time in college. She still acts like she thinks she’s better than me, probably because I haven’t earned my position here. I was handed it. I can handle her, but the biggest problem is the one I have with myself. How can I embrace this opportunity when I don’t feel like I’ve earned it, either?

At just after one, I walk into the staffroom to have my lunch. And just like that, I’m back to feeling like I don’t fit in. It’s here that I really notice how cliquey this place really is. I feel like I’ve just backtracked ten years and landed myself back in high school.

I find a table in near the back of the room and sit down. I busy myself with my phone, pretending I don’t care that I’m sitting alone. Lucky for me, James has left me a few messages to catch up on. I smirk as I read the first one.

James: You know, two hours without contact … I’m beginning to have Arsy withdrawals.

Me: I know a clinic for that.

James: You run a clinic? Nice. I guess you’d get through a lot more fetishes that way.

Me: You know it. My biggest client is your dad.

James: Okay, you owe me dry-cleaning on my shirt after that. What was once a white shirt is now coffee stained.

Me: Sure. Send me the bill. It was worth it.

I tuck my phone back into my pocket and leave the cafeteria. I make the mistake of going left instead of right. I turn around not sure where I am. I see the water fountain and smile. I was going the right way after all. I step around the corner without considering something might be coming from the other way and bam.

“Shit,” I gasp, staring at the guy sprawled out on the floor.

I start to giggle because he looks like a turtle who’s been flipped onto his back and he can’t get up. My giggling turns into full fledged laughter. The more he tries to flail his arms and get up, the harder I laugh. I take his hand and help him stand up then I quickly work to gather the papers.

“God, I’m so sorry,” I gasp.

“For knocking me over or laughing hysterically when you did?” he asks.

“Um …” Well, this is awkward.

He breaks into a smile.

“Seriously, don’t stress. You’re the fourth person to do that to me today.”

“Really?” I ask.

“No.” He smiles at me again and I laugh. “I’m Linton, by the way.”

“Darcy,” I say, still feeling bad about hysterically laughing at the poor guy.

“So, do you always laugh at people when you knock them off their feet or am I just lucky?”

“Rarely, I promise. You just looked like a helpless little turtle,” I say with a shrug, struggling to keep another round of laughter from escaping.

He glances down. “Is it the sweater?”

“No, I think it was more the helpless flapping of the arms.” I giggle.

He chuckles and falls into line next to me, walking with me down the hallway.

“So,” he asks. “Do you work here? I haven’t seen you around …”

“Because it’s only my second day,” I explain.

“Nice. You look a little young to be a psychiatrist though?” he observes.

“I’ve just finished a psych degree and I’m deciding what I do next,” I explain. “I’m not sure what I’d call my role here. Intern, I guess? I’m working with Sarah Sanders.”

He laughs. “Ah, she’s a total bitch, huh?”

“She’s not that bad,” I say.

I’m not sure if I’m being entrapped into saying something, so I err on the side of caution. Maybe this really is the fourth time he’s been knocked down today. For all I know, he’s an informant. I shake my head.

Settle down, Nancy Drew. You ran into him, remember?

“Relax.” He laughs. “I’m kidding. She’s my sister.”

“Oh,” I say, relieved. Then I remember what she told me about her brother. “Oh.”

“Oh?” he repeats, raising his eyebrows. “Nothing good ever comes after a high pitched oh.”

“If that’s what you think then you’re doing it wrong,” I joke.

He studies me for a moment. “She told you, didn’t she?”

“Told me what?”

“She told you about me.”

I stare at him, my mouth dropping open. He laughs and curses under his breath.

“When is she going to learn to keep her mouth shut,” he grumbles. “Is it too much to ask that my personal life not be spread right around this place? And now you probably think we’re going to hook up…”

“Uh no, I most definitely do not think that, because I’m not into—”

“Into what? Overweight men, who enjoy the softness of artificial fur?”

“I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, but I’m not—”

“Relax,” he laughs and adjusts his glasses. “I’m messing with you again. I don’t know how she got that idea in her head, but trust me, you’re not someone I can relate to, if you know what I mean. And even if you were, I would not be hitting on you.” He frowns. “Wait, I’m not saying you’re not attractive, you are. I’m just really…”

He pauses while searching for the right words.

“Gay.”

I smile at him. “So … you’re saying you’d be into me if our stars were aligned?”

“Honey, we’d need a lot more than our stars to align but yes.” He smirks at me. He glances at his watch. “I'm late for a meeting, but it was great getting to know you. There’s nothing quite like awkwardly discussing someone’s sexual preferences with them during the first five minutes of knowing them.”

“Agreed.” I nod. “It was good to run into you, too,” I say, winking at him.

I smile as I walk into the bar where I’m supposed to meet the girls. My eyes are glued to my phone as another message pops through. We’ve been messaging each other all day and I can’t get over what a nice guy he is. Totally not the type of person I’d have expected to reply to that ad.

I look up, waving when I spot Katie and Sasha sitting at a table, near the back of the crowded bar. It’s pretty busy, even for a Saturday.

“Why do you look so happy?” Sasha asks.

She narrows her eyes at me when I reach the table.

“No reason.” I shrug, my grin refusing to falter. “It’s a beautiful day and an even better night. What’s the not to be happy about?”

“Yes. She’s definitely acting weird.” Katie glares at me. “Are you are having sex?”

“No.” I snort. “I’m not like you. I don’t blush and go all giggly when I have sex.” I pause, long enough to smile at her. “Probably because I have it more than once a year.”

“Bitch,” Katie mutters. “And that’s totally incorrect now that I’m with Adam.” She smirks. I roll my eyes and sit down. “Oh, come on,” she adds when she realizes I’m not going to just spill. “You can’t keep anything a secret.”

“Oh, that’s rich, coming from the girl who told everyone about Mr. Salango when I told you not to,” I remind her.

“Wait, who’s Mr. Salango?” Sasha asks, reaching for another handful of chips.

“He was the guy who used to live next door to me,” I say with a laugh. “I caught him sniffing my mom’s panties.”

“While she was wearing them?” Sasha gasps, wide-eyed.

“What?” I burst out laughing. “Fuck no. They were clean, hanging on the clothesline, but it was fucking creepy all the same. I told Mom and we called the cops, who gave him a warning … Mom just wanted to put it past her, so I told Katie to keep it to herself. Anyway, the next day, the entire school knew.”

“You forgot to mention he was our science teacher.” Katie laughs. “I’m sorry, but everyone at that school deserved to know he was a creep.”

“Are you freaking serious?” Sasha asks. She makes a face. “Okay, let me get this straight,” she mutters, putting her hand up to silence us. “You’ve got your panty sniffing science teacher,” she begins, then she points to me, “one of your teachers’ propositioned you. And then the principal of the school was dismissed … for getting a student pregnant?”

“Yep.” I nod, holding back my laughter.

“That’s about right,” Katie agrees.

She looks from Katie to me, and then back to Katie, her eyes full of alarm. She shakes her head.

“What the hell kind of fucked-up school did you guys go to?”

I chuckle. She’s right. The number of deviant teachers at that school was pretty fucked-up. I’d forgotten about the Mr. Barkley incident. I can laugh about it now but him following me home that day freaked me out for weeks.

He tried to force his way inside my house, so I kicked him in the balls and called the cops. The next day, I signed up for martial arts classes, because I was fucked if I was going to find myself in that position again. He was so angry with me for leading him on, but I had no idea what he was talking about. I hadn’t done a single thing to make him think that I was into him. It turned out Katie’s cousin, Lily, thought it would be funny if she took my phone and sent him some racy text messages.

“Anyway, my point is, if I want something kept a secret, I don’t tell you,” I summarize, giving Katie a pointed look.

“Whatever.” Katie waves her hand. “You’re a thousand times worse than me because you go out of your way to announce things you’re not supposed to.”

“You mean like this?” I grin. I get up onto my seat and whistle to get everyone’s attention. “I’d like to let everyone know that Katie here used to shave her mustache when she was eleven.”

I laugh at the death stare Katie is shooting me then get off my seat. Sasha is in hysterics, along with half of the bar.

“You’re such a tool.” Sasha giggles. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“Oh, like you wouldn’t have done the same thing if you were in my position,” she retorts, glaring at her. “Besides, let’s save the reminiscing for something useful.” She grins at us. “Like my wedding.”

My eyes widen. “You’re fucking engaged?” I hiss.

She giggles and holds her hand up, showing off the very sparkly, princess cut diamond ring. I jump off my seat and throw my arms around her, nearly knocking her clean off her chair.

“Calm down.” She laughs, trying to pull me off her. “Fuck, Sash, get her off me,” she gasps, laughing.

I pull back and wipe the tears from my eyes.

“Shit, are you crying?” She laughs. “You never cry.”

“I’ve got something in my eye, you loser,” I blubber. “Leave me alone. I’m not crying, you’re crying.” I wipe my eyes again. “Seriously though, I’m so happy for you.”

“Yeah, I’m kind of getting that.”

“So, when’s the wedding?” Sasha asks, as she gives Katie a tight hug in a much more subdued display of affection than mine.

“No time soon, I can promise you that. We’re thinking maybe over Christmas next year.”

“We should totally toast this,” I declare, holding up my glass. Then I narrow my eyes. “Unless there’s a reason you can’t drink?” I ask suspiciously.

Katie chuckles. “Hardly. Are you forgetting that I’m two thirds through my glass of wine?” she asks. She lifts the glass to her mouth and drinks down the rest. “Someone get me another one,” she demands.

“Um, something tells me you’ve already had one too many,” I say, making a face at Sasha, who giggles.

“Excuse me, this is my first drink,” Katie huffs.

“My point exactly,” I say. “In fact, we should start cutting you off before you even start.”

“Whatever,” she says, rolling her eyes. She glances at my phone and frowns. “Why does it keep flashing with texts?” she asks suspiciously. “The ad’s been deleted, so why are you still getting messages?”

“Hmm, what?” I murmur, in a very non-committal way. Katie’s eyes narrow and I get why, playing innocent was never really my forte. “Hey,” I gasp when she reaches over and snatches the phone off the table.

“My twelve-year-old soon-to-be stepbrother did the same thing this morning,” I snap. “Him, I expect it from.”

“That’s because he’s tiny little player.” Katie giggles then hiccups.

“Which reminds me, I’m pretty sure Mack was flirting with me when we were at your house last week,” Sasha chimes in.

“He’d flirt with anything,” Katie says to Sasha. Then she turns to me. “And you know me well enough to know I’ll snoop.” She shrugs and keeps scrolling through my texts. “If you didn’t want me looking, then you wouldn’t have left it sitting there like that.”

I shake my head because she’s channeling Mack, again.

“So, who is this guy?” Katie asks. She reads through a few messages, then starts giggling. Sasha leans over Katie's shoulder so she can read them too. “Any photo’s?”

I frown. “No.”

Sasha snorts. “Then I can tell you right now. He’s a total dud.”

“What?” I laugh. She nods solemnly.

“Trust me. Meet him as soon as possible, because at least then you know he’s real.”

“So attractive people are all assholes and nice people are ugly?” I ask, snatching my phone back.

“Yep.” She nods.

“Well, you break the mold then, don’t you?”

“Hey.” She laughs and tosses a straw at me. “Hold on, so are you calling me ugly or mean?” She chuckles.

“Why not both?” I reply.

She shakes her head and gets to her feet.

“I’m just saying I’ve had bad experiences with online dating,” she says with a shrug. “Anyway, I have to go.” She grabs her jacket and shrugs it on. “Just meet him.”

“Fine.” I sigh. I wasn’t planning on letting this drag out anyway.

Sasha nods. “Good. And if he is who he says he is, then just remember, technically I set up that profile, so he thinks he’s talking to me.”

“Ha, bullshit.” I stand up and yell after her. She waves at me, without looking back. “I don’t care if he masturbates to pictures of his dead grandma in his basement, this one’s all mine,” I holler.

Yeah. That got me some odd looks.

It’s late when I get back home.

I exchange a few texts with James as I get ready for bed, but just as I’m about to dive under the covers, I get an overwhelming thirst. I sneak back downstairs to get myself a drink. I open the fridge and frown at the lack of choices. It’s milk or water. I crouch down to grab the milk off the bottom shelf, but it’s caught on something.

“Oh, come on,” I mutter.

I’m twisting it at all angles, trying to dislodge it, but the darn thing won’t budge.

“I was trying to figure out if that’s a long shirt or a short nightie you’re wearing, but then I just wondered why the heck you’d forgo underwear wearing either of those two things.”

Gasping I stand up and spin around, narrowing my eyes at Cameron. He sits at the table, smirking at me. My heart races as I glance down. Of course, I chose tonight to wear the shortest nightie I own which, by the way, is over a pair of underwear.

“Do you always sneak up on people like that?” I ask, glaring at him.

“Sometimes. Did you forget your underwear on purpose?”

He lifts his eyebrows, his eyes full of amusement while I glower at him.

“I’m wearing underwear,” I growl at him. “Would you like proof?”

“If you’re offering,” he murmurs.

“What are you even doing here anyway?” I snap.

He makes a face. “I needed a place to stay.”

“You have an apartment,” I remind him. “Or did you stumble home too drunk to remember that?”

“No.” He rubs his jaw and laughs. “I may have kind of burnt my kitchen down,” he admits sheepishly.

“You burnt your kitchen down?” I laugh. “How the fuck did you manage to do that? Cooking up your next batch of drugs?”

He shrugs. “Gotta pay the rent somehow, right?”

I stare at him and realize I have no clue what he does. In fact, I don’t know much about him at all, other than the fact he’s a world class dick.

“I was heating myself up a pizza and I got distracted,” he explains with a shrug. “It’s not bad, just bad enough to land me here for a couple of weeks. What’s got you up so late, anyway?” He moves his gaze over my less than adequately covered body. “Hot date?”

I shake my head, suddenly feeling shy.

“In this?” I laugh, glancing at my nightie. “Just getting myself a drink.” I walk over to the sink, turn on the faucet to get myself a glass of water. I can feel him staring at me.

“You don’t want to try and give that milk one last jiggle?” he asks. I glower at him and he winces. “I guess not, but, milk is supposed to be great for boners.”

I chuckle and turn around, backing out of the kitchen.

“I think you mean bones,” I say dryly.

“No, boners. Mine specifically, from watching you bend over, trying to get it.” He grins. “Night Arsy.”

I stare at him. “What did you call me?”

He looks at me like I’m crazy.

“Uh, Darcy? Last time I checked, it is your name, right?”

“Right.” I smile at him. “Night.”