Every year my precinct did an event for employees and families to attend.
This year it resembled a county fair. Which I personally thought was weird since we lived in Detroit but whatever. Pharis wanted to go, so we went.
Aaron and Butch had just lost to her in a ring toss, I lost to her on balloon darts, and the chief conceded defeat to her when she whooped his ass on the rope ladder.
Tossing her hot dog wrapper in the trash, I saw her eyeing the main event and fought a laugh.
Close by, Aaron and Butch were grinning doing the same.
“I know that look,” I said, kissing her neck.
“It’s teams of two,” she said seriously. “We’re so doing this.”
“Whatever you want, superstar.”
“The ribbon,” she said, cracking her neck. “I want that ribbon.”
“Uh oh.” Butch laughed. “Pharis is ready to fuck some shit up.”
“Shh,” she grinned. “I’m focusing.”
As a group, we walked over to the tables lined up with pies.
It was fucking pies for days. With our hands behind our backs, Pharis listened to the rules while I pretended to because I preferred watching her. When the horn went off, Pharis smashed her face into that pie so hard I nearly pissed myself. When out of the corner of her eye she noticed me lagging, she threatened me with what I was guessing was strawberry all over her face. “Put your face in that pie before I put that pie in your face!”
“What is wrong with you?” I laughed loudly.
For the record, not only did she finish her own pie; she pushed me out of the way and ate mine too.
That day, she had, in fact, won the ribbon.
But Pharis being Pharis, gave it to the little girl who lost to her instead.
And then found a garbage can to puke in.
After scaring the shit out of her then fucking the hell out of her, Pharis and I had zero secrets between us. I had wanted to spare her the victims’ torture, but dammit, she needed to be afraid. She needed to know fear. Only then could she accept what we were dealing with. Since that epic fuck battle, we found ourselves in a new place and on a new level.
Hours later, Butch had called to say he initiated another happy hour, and that our presence was mandatory. With our move just days away, none of us wanted to pass up an opportunity to hang out. Though, I was stoked to have them fly out to Miami soon and do the tourist thing together.
Holding the door open for Pharis, we spot Butch on the far wall. When I saw his date, I whispered to Pharis, “Why is what’s-her-face with him?”
Squinting, she zeroed in on the date and mumbled, “Emily?”
“You talk to him all the time,” I reminded her. “He didn’t tell you?”
“No,” she said, linking her fingers with mine. “I mean he told me he was seeing someone casually but that he wasn't ready to bring her around. If he’s into her we should give her a chance.”
“As long as she doesn’t talk the whole time, fine.”
Laughing, she swatted my ass and took the seat directly across from the weird chick. “Hi Emily,” she said kindly. “I like your blouse.”
“Thanks,” Emily said with a frown I didn’t understand. For some reason, Emily doesn’t like Pharis, which obviously makes me dislike her. Looking up at me, she actually sighed, “Hi, Eddie.”
I ignored her and turned to Butch. “Hey, brother,” I said, giving him the man hug. “Thanks for putting this together.”
“Not much to it,” he grinned. “Just showed up and said party of seven.”
Right on cue, Aaron ushered in Connie and Bridget. And I could see the pain on Butch’s face. Good, he should feel like shit flaunting this odd chick in front of Bridget. Because she’d never brought another guy around us, not once. And this bitch? She was no prize. She was certainly no Bridget.
After drinks were ordered, all the girls tried to make small talk with Emily, who wasn’t having it. The female was a straight-up rude bitch, and I’d like it if she left.
Leaning into me, Pharis said softly, “I don’t get her. I give up.”
And I didn’t blame her since the only person this chick seemed to want to speak with was me.
With conversation happening all around us, imagine my surprise when Emily said, “So Eddie, how will Miami work?”
“What do you mean?” Pharis asked, responding on my behalf.
“Are you dating long distance?”
“No,” I gladly chimed in. “I’m going with her.”
“Why?” she blinked confused.
“I told you,” Butch said with annoyance in his tone. “He resigned from the department to be with Pharis.”
“Okay,” she conceded. “But I don’t get why.”
“Nor do you need to,” Pharis fired back, having had enough of the questions. That was my girl, though. When it came to me, to us, she put the smack down. “I’m not sure how what we do affects you. And if memory serves this is the second time I’ve had to say it.”
Knowing Pharis and her tones, Butch back-pedaled, “I talk about you two all the time. She’s just curious, superstar.”
“Why do you call her superstar?” Emily pushed.
“Why do you care?” Pharis snapped, and honestly, part of me wanted to see where this would go, but the other part, the smarter one, tried to interfere. “We all call her superstar.”
Unfortunately, Emily snorted unattractively, “She gets paid to talk about football.”
Leaning in, Pharis warned, “She’s also sitting right here.”
Sensing mass carnage, the girls whisked Pharis off to the bathroom, leaving me to fend for myself.
Well, fuck.