Your Favorite Girl (YFG Series)

by Steph Sweeney

  "What did I do wrong?" I asked, regretting it immediately.

  Mr. Shriver turned operatic. He literally sashayed as he spoke: "Well, now, according to Mr. Moses here, you lured him away from his supervisory position and drugged him. You slut. And now that I think about it, that violation invalidates your contract. Brian, get the girl."

  "Clifton," Brian said, "get the girl."

  "Naw, naw," Clifton said, shaking his head vigorously. "He said you, Brian!"

  Brian sighed and stomped his feet as he stood. He left the circle of chairs and went around the corner of the L-shaped room. The music stopped, and a moment later Flora emerged, both eyes swollen and purple, with dried blood crusted on one temple. She wore the same dress in which she'd been delivered: a transparent white that plainly showed her naked body underneath. Despite the beating she'd received, her hair was freshly combed.

  We locked eyes immediately, and as she approached I couldn't help but notice the change in atmosphere. Every person in the room was drawn to her, every demeanor lightened. Sean even lowered his blade and turned to stare at her, a breathtaking beauty, even with black eyes and swollen cheeks.

  Was that provision really in the contract?

  Flora stepped into the circle of chairs and stood there with her fingers interlocked against her midriff, studying Mr. Moses, her mouth slightly open.

  "I want to see it," I said.

  At first Mr. Shriver didn't know I was talking to him. He did a double-take, then said, "What?"

  "I want to see my contract," I said. "You say I violated it by drugging Mr. Moses. I want to see that rule."

  Patton shook his head, sighing, and my heart sank. I don't know if I was afraid for myself or hurt for having let him down. He spoke with regret in his voice. "It's true, Melissa. Only the client is permitted to ingest the chemical. It's a standard violation."

  "Sean," Mr. Shriver said, "if you will."

  Sean didn't hide his eagerness. He was upon Flora in a flash, dragging her first to a table between two of the leather chairs, where he scooped up the roll of duct tape he'd uses to tie Mr. Moses, and then onto the platform, where he taped her to the poll, wrists first, then ankles.

  As her skirt hem tickled his bald head, Flora began to shake like a leaf, though she expressed no emotion on her face, numbed, perhaps, by the beating someone had given her.

  Her ankles secured, Sean stood and turned in my direction. I didn't realize he was looking right at me until he removed his glasses.

  Brian had irises that looked like galaxies; Patton a bright, glowing sky-blue color; and Mr. Shriver's were solid black. Clifton's eyes were normal, if a little misaligned.

  Sean, though, had solid white irises that matched the rest of his eyes, which seemed to bulge from their sockets, his tiny black pupils dancing about as if independent from the eyes themselves.

  Who were these people? Were they human? Half-humans born of an extraterrestrial father?

  He drew his blade once more and began to circle the pole, studying the torsos of Flora and Mr. Moses, as if deciding where first to plunge his knife.

  I looked to Patton for help. He sighed and put his arm around me, pulling me to him. I fell to pieces, starved as I was of the slightest comfort. He hugged me close and I tugged on his shirt, crying into his chest, while Kate stared at us, bewildered and hurt.

  "Don't kill them girls." It was Mr. Moses. I hadn't heard him speak since before I drugged him, sealing his fate with my selfish desire for revenge. "Please don't do it, Mr. Sean."

  Sean stepped up to him casually. "I'm going to cut her tit off and stuff it in your mouth." Then he moved around to the other side of the platform.

  Flora's breathing quickened.

  "No, stop! I did it!"

  "You did what?" Patton asked loudly.

  "I drugged myself," Mr. Moses said. "Told Mrs. Reed I'd kill her if she told the truth. I did it." Then he started laughing maniacally, his voice so deep and strong that it echoed from every corner of the library. "Whew, what a ride! I gotta give it to you, Brian, that was some funky shit. Couldn't resist no more."

  Patton grabbed me by the shoulders and lifted my chin with his finger. "Is that true?" he asked. "Did he drug himself?" His eyes were so close and so bright I couldn't even see his face.

  I wanted to say yes, but I couldn't condemn the man again. I was in a catch-22. Say yes and Mr. Moses dies. Say no and Flora dies.

  "Ain't that right, Mrs. Reed?" the battered deliveryman shouted. "I fucked yo' Favorite Girl before you ever got a chance, and since I work for this company, that makes the company liable. Tell these crazy-eyed crackers. Ain't that right, Mr. Shriver, sir? Ain't no such thing as a pre-fucked virgin. I do believe you owe Mrs. Reed a discount."

  Mr. Shriver was laughing, inaudible at first but gaining volume as Mr. Moses spoke.

  I wiped my tears and looked up at Mr. Moses, strung up like a piece of meat, panting, weakened from the pain and blood loss. I surveyed each wound, scanning his entire body all the way up to his wrists, which were bound with Flora's.

  The two of them were holding hands.

  Sean was running the tip of his knife up and down Flora's stomach. Brian had returned to his chair, once again checking his email or playing a game on his phone. Clifton sat at the edge of his seat, licking his lips, waiting.

  Mr. Shriver plopped back into his chair, his laughter turned to coughing.

  "I tell you what," he said when he finally cleared his throat. "Tomorrow, Kate will show take you down to the Showcase Hall and you can pick a brand-new, one-hundred percent virginal Favorite Girl. It would be unfair of me to charge you for a defective product."

  I opened my mouth to speak just as Sean plunged the knife into Flora's throat, but all that came out was a whimper. Blood gushed out of her neck, a crimson waterfall, soaking her white dress.

  I fell to the floor and vomited.

  Mr. Moses began to scream.

  ─A Girl's Night─

  BRIAN ESCORTED Kate and me back to the room while Patton assisted Clifton in collecting the bodies and transporting them to Level A, the floor Clifton supervised, apparently. Before Brian ushered us out of the library, I heard someone say something about an incinerator.

  He locked us in the room and I immediately ran to the bed and hid myself under the covers, crying for half an hour before finally passing out.

  When I awoke, the lights were off and Kate lay at the foot of the bed watching a movie at low volume. She had stripped off her dress and lay on her stomach wearing nothing but red panties, her feet in the air, her toes wriggling. In her left hand she held a half-eaten red delicious apple, its skin black in the glow of the enormous flat screen.

  "What are you watching?"

  "I don't know what it's called," she said, giggling. "It's pretty funny though."

  "Funny?"

  She glanced over at me. "Kinda."

  I sat up slowly, my body stiffened and aching. "How can you laugh at anything right now?"

  "I don't know," Kate said. "I guess it gets easier to deal with."

  "What? Murder?"

  "Seeing someone die."

  "They didn't just die, they were butchered!" I was furious. I wanted to jump on top of her and push her face into the pillow. "Flora didn't even do anything!"

  Kate sat up, wrapping the sheet around herself. "None of them do anything," she said with a slightly snarky tone. "That's just the way it works. You have to learn to deal with it or you'll never make it here."

  She had a point, but right now I didn't care.

  "How many people have you seen them kill?"

  "I don't know."

  "A lot?"

  "No, most just special occasions. They have parties sometimes and big executives from all over the world come to get drunk and play with the used Favorite Girls. I don't get to attend those parties, but I've seen girls being wheeled out before, cut all to pieces. There's one guy in particular, Yakov. Russian guy. Patton told me he buys a used Doll Girl every
time he comes here just so he can kill her. One time--"

  "Stop." I couldn't take anymore. I had so many questions. "How many types of Favorite Girls are there?"

  "Eight right now. Apparently more are in development."

  "What's a Doll Girl?"

  Kate shook her head, visibly upset. "I can't--you'll just have to see. Mr. Shriver said to take you to the Showcase Hall so you can pick a new girl tomorrow. Of course, there won't be another Flora Girl for a few more weeks."

  "Why not?"

  "The next one in line isn't eighteen yet."

  "Tell me how that works."

  "I don't know the whole process," she said. "They keep me in the dark. Patton put in for the new teacher's assistant position for me. I was supposed to get that."

  "I thought you liked your job."

  "While I'm working, yeah, because I take the Libido Drug and it makes me hot for whatever asshole strolls through the door. But then I come back here and I'm alone and I go to bed every night wanting to kill myself."

  My rage began to taper off. I had to remind myself how terrible her conditions were. Sex goddess by day, rape victim by night.

  "I'm sorry."

  "It's not your fault."

  "If I'd never come here, none of this would have happened."

  "You didn't know what you were getting yourself into. I didn't either. I was just a high school student trying to pay my car insurance with a part-time job. Then one night while I was closing up, Patton appeared out of nowhere, which scared me because I'd already locked the door. I had no idea about the hidden elevator, any of this stuff. I do remember men going behind the counter to the back office and disappearing for a long time, then reemerging later looking messy and smelling like sex. I just thought the store manager was gay and had a lot of boyfriends."

  I laughed, surprising myself.

  "So he just offered you a job out of nowhere?"

  "Yeah. I guess they use the jewelry store to hire potential employees for the company."

  "How many people work here?"

  "Let's see, Patton has eight teachers and seven teacher's assistants. Brian--"

  "What happened to the other assistant?" I interjected.

  "She had a stroke. She was ninety-nine years old."

  "Oh, good. I mean, you know, that she wasn't murdered."

  Kate laughed. "Oh, no, no, Level D is like a whole different world. That's where the Favorite Girls spend their entire childhoods. Nothing bad happens up there. The teachers don't even know who they work for or what happens to the girls when they graduate."

  The more Kate talked, the more questions I had. But I had to take it slow. We would have plenty of time to discuss everything about Your Favorite Girl, Inc., locked up alone together in this big room.

  "So eight teachers, seven assistants . . ." I said.

  "Yes, the employees," Kate said, tossing the sheet away and climbing off the bed, an almost cartoonish bounce in her boobs. "Brian has quite a few lab assistants, a couple of scientists. Do you want something to drink?" She was headed for the kitchen area, tiptoeing when she reached the cold tile.

  "What do you have?"

  "Anything. If we don't have it, we can order it."

  "How about a soda?"

  She opened the refrigerator, and before I knew it a canned Coke was sailing through the air. It landed softly on the bed and I scooped it up and gulped half of it down. I didn't realize how thirsty I was--how hungry, too.

  Kate must have realized how long it had been since I'd eaten. She was busy piling food onto a big serving tray as she counted employees.

  "Sean has three security guards who post up with him in the lobby when a client comes in--"

  "I remember those guys."

  "--and a few more to watch surveillance monitors all day. Then there's Bob, who does nothing but present contracts for clients to sign. Bob, the deliverymen, and a couple of janitors all answer to Clifton, if you can imagine."

  "They let that guy be in charge of people?"

  "Oh yeah, Clifton supervises Level A, all expect for the jewelry store and the Showcase Hall, which are on Level A, technically, but are only accessible from Level B."

  "I'm confused."

  "Hang on."

  Kate was coming back to the bed with the tray, upon which she'd piled fruit, a bag of tortilla chips, a jar of salsa, several different blocks of cheese, various lunchmeats, thick-sliced whole grain bread, crackers, chocolate chip cookies, and a plastic baggie that reeked of fresh, sticky marijuana.

  I no longer cared about the Levels or who supervised what employees. The sight of all this food made me so happy I thought I was going to cry.

  Instead, I quickly made a sandwich with ham, turkey, and three different kinds of cheese. It came out so big I had to smash it down before I could fit my mouth around it.

  Kate watched me eat, like a child petting a puppy as it wolfed down a treat. If she started petting me, I might even growl a little.

  "Wanna smoke some weed?"

  I pushed a loose piece of turkey between my lips and spoke through the wad of food in my mouth. "Yeffs, pleath."

  Kate bounced a little. I was starting to think she couldn't help herself. An involuntary response to excitement.

  "You'll cufe."

  "What?" she asked, leaning over the side of the bed, her butt stuck up in the air. She climbed back up bringing with her a very large bong.

  I swallowed my food. "I said you're cute."

  "Aww, thanks! Is it okay that I'm naked?"

  "Why would I mind?"

  She shrugged and opened the baggie. Immediately I could smell the weed's sweet aroma. "I like being naked," she said. "What about you?"

  "Sometimes. I get cold easily."

  "Should I turn up the thermostat?"

  "No, I'm fine for now."

  "Sure?" She waved the baggie in front of my face and sang her next words: "Weed is bet-ter when you're na-ked!"

  I snatched it from her and held it out as she climbed onto me, and because both my hands were occupied--one with the weed, the other with my half-eaten sandwich--we both fell, Kate landing on top of me, both of us giggling.

  She kissed the corner of my mouth. "I'm glad we get to be roommates," she said. Then she licked my cheek and jumped away before I could retaliate.

  "Gross!" I tossed the baggie at her.

  "My licks aren't gross!" she said.

  "When I finish my sandwich, I'm gonna lick your face off."

  "After we smoke!"

  "That works."

  Kate packed the bowl and we took turns hitting the bong until our lungs were on fire. When it was cashed, I flopped down on my back and closed my eyes, afraid for a moment that I'd made a mistake. I've smoked plenty of weed in my life, but this stuff was otherworldly. I was probably the highest I'd ever been after my first hit, and we passed it back and forth at least five times.

  I expected anxiety and paranoia to come knocking any moment, but instead I felt Kate's warmth as she curled up next to me. My body relaxed for the first time since I'd woken in that white room and I managed to forget everything except the softness of the bed, the electricity in Kate's fingertips, starting on my thigh and running all the way up to my neck, the tickle of her kisses, the cold air touching my breast as she pulled down the strap on my dress, the touch of her wet tongue to my nipple.

  Then suddenly she sprang up like a weed.

  "Did you hear that?"

  "Hear what?"

  "That banging sound."

  I giggled. "You want to make banging sounds?"

  "I'm serious," she said, and by her tone I could tell she was.

  "Maybe you're just paranoid."

  "Nuh-uh, this is Brian's weed. It has a perfect blend of THC and CBD so you don't get anxious or paranoid. It's pure bliss. You gotta love him for it."

  "What's CBD?"

  "Cannabidiol, the chemical they think might cure cancer. Did you hear about that? I read an article--"

  She stopped an
d shot her head towards the shower room entrance.

  I heard it this time, like one of those big sheets of metal used by sound effects people to simulate thunder.

  "It's Clifton," Kate said, climbing off the bed.

  "Clifton? Where?"

  "In the walls. He sneaks in here to fuck me. I can't figure out how he gets in." She sounded frustrated and panicky. I jumped off the bed and followed her to the kitchen, where she opened a cabinet and took out a small vial. "I leave the Libido Drug sitting out and I hide. Sometimes he takes it, sits on the floor masturbating until it hurts and then he leaves. But sometimes he finds me. Come on."

  She pulled me along, first setting the vial on the counter near the shower room entrance and then crossing the room to a large closet.

  We hid in the back behind two stacks of boxes. Kate must have spent a lot of time in this hiding spot. She'd put down pillows and blankets to make it more comfortable, and she even kept a bag with snacks, weed, a few bottles of water, and a small can of pepper spray.

  "He usually only comes on Friday and Saturday night. I stay up all night and wait. If I fall asleep, he gets me. But he's never found me in this spot. We just have to whisper, and when we hear him in the room, we have to be completely silent."

  "Are you sure he won't find us?"

  "Not if we're quiet. He's too impatient. He never looks hard enough. He can't resist taking the drug. Then he beats himself off so hard he bruises himself and storms off."

  "You can't find where he gets in."

  "I've looked everywhere," she said, her voice raising to normal volume, then tampering back down to a whisper. "It's what I do when I'm bored. I know he's coming from the shower room, but where is beyond me."

  "Have you told Patton?"

  "No."

  "Why not? I think we should tell him."

  "Don't, please. Wouldn't you rather us find it ourselves? If Clifton can sneak into my room, he's probably tunneled all through this building. There's no telling where it goes."

  I felt the slightest twinge of hope. Escape. It might be possible after all. Something to hold onto, at least, something to occupy my mind, lest it wander off and never return.

  "Kaaate."

  Clifton was in the room, his voice so loud I thought he must be in the closet doorway. Kate peeked in the crack between two boxes, then let me have a look.