by Ivy Jordan
“Oh, no you are not.”
“Yes, I am, and if you’re lucky, there’ll be a roofie in one of your drinks.”
“You wouldn’t,” I gasped.
“Just make sure you look like you’re having fun and nothing will happen.”
We both laughed and walked into the elevator. “You know, if it weren’t for you, I never would’ve gone out with him.”
“Why not?”
“You’re always challenging me to get out of my comfort zone and talk to people, and I know I give you a lot of crap about it, but it’s about time I start having a social life.”
“You’re right,” she said, “and I’m glad you’re starting to come around.”
“That doesn’t mean I like football, and I hate jocks.”
“Whatever,” she laughed, and the elevator doors opened. “You’re screwing one.”
“Yeah, but he’s not vacuous like the others are, and he has integrity.”
“The other guys aren’t so bad.” We walked out into the courtyard.
“If you like that sort of stupidity.” I followed her through.
“It’s refreshing, looking at them knowing that there’s nothing going on inside their heads. It clears things up a bit.”
“That is so demented,” I said. We stopped at the street and waited for a truck to pass. When we got to the other side of the street, we took a left through lanes of trees, past the field house, and into the neighborhood. It represented the meat and potatoes of the housing industry in the city.
Landlords would rent out tiny, substandard homes and the kids would snatch up the entire neighborhood. Most of it was quiet by this time of year now that the bad eggs had been weeded out, but there was something about the Greeks that made them stick around.
We were walking south, through a lane of trees past the student housing, when we saw the truck pass by again. They stopped as soon as they saw us, and an overgrown piece of meat called out. “Hey girls, you heading to the Alpha house?”
“No,” I whispered. “Don’t you dare.”
“Yeah!” Nicole jumped up in the air with her fist raised.
“I hate you.”
“Come on. We’ll give you a ride.”
Nicole ran up to the truck like a dog after a bone and hopped inside. “Come on, Ava.”
The guy was chugging a beer behind her. He threw it onto the pavement and bent down to grab another. His pants slid low, and his crack was sticking out. I made a quick, slicing motion across my neck.
“Ava, let’s go,” Nicole said.
I ran up and hopped inside. The back of the truck was small, but the guy was alone. He probably made his drop-off already and he was just making another shipment. I stuck to the corner while the blond wretch sat down and tried to get up close to Nicole.
“So what’s your name?” he asked her.
“Nicole,” she blushed.
“I’m Peter.” He wiped his hands on his jeans and held out his hand for her. She actually took it. “What’s your name?” He nodded his head towards me.
“Jane,” I said and watched as the truck started and we started moving.
“Jane?”
“Yeah.” I turned back to the road, trying not to look at him, but he wouldn’t stop staring. His hair was drenched in sweat and his eyes were bloodshot. The worst part was his smell, like rancid urine and rotten tobacco. He was smiling at me now, and his yellow, crooked teeth were sticking out.
“Damn, ma. You’re fucking sexy.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but he was already starting to scoot over to the other side of the truck bed. I pulled back, but it was too late. He was already at my side, and I could smell the coagulated sweat stuck to his shirt.
I had to breathe through my mouth to keep from puking.
“You want a beer?” he asked.
“What?” I turned to see him holding a can out to me. “Oh, no.”
“Come on, Ava. Have a little fun.” I was going to get her good for this.
“Here.” He handed it to me, “and there’s plenty more where that came from.” He chugged the rest of his beer and threw it out. Then he turned back to me and narrowed his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine.”
“Well, you gotta drink it to feel something.”
“Ava, open your damn beer.”
“Fine.” I opened it, threw my head back, and chugged the whole thing. When I threw it out, the guy put his hand on my thigh, and I jolted back.
“What’s wrong?” His face was close, and I could smell his rotten breath.
“Sorry.” I pulled back as far as I could go, almost to the end of the truck.
“No, it’s okay. I won’t hurt you. I just,” He reached a hand up to touch my chest, and my hand shot out before I could stop it. I slapped him hard.
“What the hell is wrong with you, you fucking whore?”
The driver slammed on his brakes, and Nicole hopped out. I was right behind her. “Don’t you come near me.”
The guy stood up and grabbed his crotch. “Your loss.” They pulled away, and I whipped around to punch Nicole right in the nose.
“Ah! Hey!”
“You can’t say nothing.” I started walking.
“Fine, I deserved that. I just thought…”
“That if we could have a little fun, maybe I’d come out of my shell. That doesn’t mean I’m gonna climb into the first car I see. He could’ve killed us, and you,” I pointed a finger at her, “need to be smarter than that if you’re gonna be going out and partying like you have been. You’re gonna get a gonorrhea injection.”
“And I’ll love every second of it. At least I’ll live.”
“You want me to live? Like that?”
She went silent. “I get it.”
“No, you don’t, and you’re starting to scare the crap out of me, Nicole.” She turned around and walked back to the sidewalk. “A good man is better than any man.”
“Not any man.”
“That,” I pointed back in the direction of where the truck parked, “was any man.”
“I wasn’t gonna get with him.”
“Do you have any idea what happens when you let the wrong man into your life?”
“It’s not—a”
“No, Nicole, listen to me, and you listen good, because this is the most important thing I will ever tell you. Life is fragile, and it is short. When you let a man into your life, you’re taking on all of his baggage. You don’t get that close to a person without getting involved, and you don’t let somebody into your home without having to take everything on.”
“That doesn’t—”
“Have you ever seen an abusive relationship?” I asked.
She pursed her lips. “No.”
“How do you know? You know what they look like? How they act?”
“They beat one another.”
“No,” my voice broke. “It is a lot more than that. There are psychotic fights, screaming, yelling, and ultimatums. It does something to your head. It shuts down all of your logical instincts, leaving nothing but a pile of tears and wasted sweat. Sometimes, it doesn’t even involve violence, and that’s just as bad. Lovers can be vicious, and it can happen to anyone. All you need are two people that are wrong for one another.”
“This doesn’t apply to me.”
“You’re not listening. When I say life is short, I mean short. You have no idea what it means to wait at home for your man while he’s out running around and drinking, or what it’s like to want to do everything you can to change a person. You certainly don’t understand how fucked up you can get from just a few short years with a person. You go with the wrong man, and you will never be the same.”
“Why should I care?”
“Because you might jump into the back of some guy’s truck and find out that you like the guy in there.”
“So what?”
“I know how easy it would be for you to fall for them without taking the time you need
to be certain that he’s the one.”
“I don’t like this at all. I make one bad decision, and you’re acting like I’m some battered housewife.”
“I can smell it, Nicole. I know you’re just trying to have fun, but I also know where I come from, and where my sister comes from, and I will not let that happen to you. All the signs are there. The willingness to screw around, the desire to be popular and party, and we both know that you can’t get around like you do without getting attached.”
“What if I really like them?”
“What if he knocks you up while you’re still in school?”
“But—”
“I don’t care if you like him. I’ve maintained my detachment because I was waiting for the right person, so I didn’t fall for the wrong guy.”
“Stop it, Ava.”
“Do yourself a favor, Nicole.”
She shook her head and sat down on the concrete. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.”
“I mean it. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.”
“You’re still a hypocrite,” she murmured.
“A hypocrite?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what you are. You didn’t wait any more than I did—less. I’m not dating anyone. Maybe you should take your own advice. It sounds like you’ve done a lot of thinking about this.”
“I have to. This is a major life decision, and I haven’t made it yet. Channing and I just got together.”
“I saw the way you looked at that painting when you bought it. Remember? You snatched it up and held it close to your chest. Then you smiled, and you pulled it back to get another look. It was so sad to see because I knew, then and there, exactly what was going through your head. You’re in this for life, and like you said, you just met him.”
“I haven’t made that decision yet.”
“Maybe not consciously.”
“Even if I did, Nicole, it would be a decision based on good, common sense. I would never rush into something like that.”
“Promise me, Ava. Make that promise now. Don’t do it, not until you know.”
“Okay.” I offered her my hand, sealing the promise. “Honestly, though, Nicole—you don’t know him. I’ve never met a more giving, loving man in my entire life, and I’m not going to just walk away from him at the first sign of trouble.”
“But look hard, Ava. Don’t brush the big issues aside.”
“I won’t. I know what you’re saying, and I’m not blind. I’ve been very careful with him, and every single time, he exceeds my expectations.”
“Does he?”
“Yes, and you know my standards are high. I won’t just give it up for the first person that comes my way. He’s got to be the best, and he is. All he wants, all he ever thinks about is making me happy. How could I possibly walk away from something like that?”
“I didn’t know.”
“No, you didn’t. Nobody does because they’re not with us when we’re together. They don’t see the way he looks at me. I know what I have.”
“Then we should probably get to the party. I’m sure it’s started by now.”
I stood up and held out my hand for Nicole to take it. “Here,” I helped her up. “We’ll be fashionably late.”
The Greek district was two blocks up. We could already hear the music blasting when we started walking. The closer we got, the more we could feel it vibrating underneath our feet. The guys prided themselves on throwing a good party. They had Christmas lights strung up across the street between the houses, and a different colored bulb on every porch. Nicole explained it to me as we turned onto the street and started walking through the crowd.
“Red is for call girls and strippers. Pink is for the gays. Green is for the grow house. Black is for everything else. Blue is for private party. White is for liquor, and anything dark is completely off-limits. You can basically walk from house to house and get whatever you want.”
“What if I don’t want any of those things?”
“Then you lay low, go where the fun is, and stick to one drink. It’s better that way.”
There were people everywhere, crowding the streets, most holding cups. Some of the guys had parked their trucks in the center of the street, and they were calling out to all the girls, offering them free beer. Nicole and I kept our eyes straight and pushed through as nicely as we could.
The houses were old with stucco facades and raised front porches, most with people gathered around, smoking and talking. The smells of burning weed and tobacco were everywhere, mixed with the scent of cheap perfume and a thousand different variations of grilled food.
The smell of burning mesquite hit my nose, and my stomach rumbled. “Do you think they’ll have food?” I asked Nicole.
“Probably.” We pushed through a group of orange-stained blondes, all them wearing short, brightly-colored dresses. One turned my way when I passed. She had a bitter grin on her face. I turned back to Nicole.
“I’m starving, and I’m already starting to feel that nasty beer. What was that?”
“Malt liquor.”
“No wonder.”
“They’ll have the good stuff at the frat house. Sam has been buying craft beers and IPAs. It’s a lot better.”
“I just want a burger or something.” The crowd was getting thicker, and the people were standing around. I could see the Alpha house, with its cheap Greek façade behind them. Somebody had tied a banner to the top, but I couldn’t see it.
When we got closer, people started looking my way. One guy turned to the girl he was standing next to and said something. The girl burst out laughing.
“God, they’re gonna give me so much crap.”
“Ignore them. They don’t matter. You’re here for Channing.” Nicole started to push past the group. People were wide-eyed, some openly stepping in her way.
Then I heard a voice coming from the house screaming, “Is that the guest of honor? Let her through.”
“Nicole,” I called out.
“It’s fine. Come on.”
I stepped forward and the crowd parted. A drunken white ape with pale skin and a thick patch of freckles separated from the group. He was holding a long piece of toilet paper that had been taped together to make a stash, and as he got closer, I could see a tiara in his other hand.
Above him was a sign written in what looked like ketchup, saying, “Cherry Pop Champion, Channing Barker!”
The toilet paper sash caught the wind and turned. Revealing the letters ‘c-o-b-w’ written on the front. The world shifted on its axis. The people in front of me weren’t jealous. They were laughing at me, talking about how Channing had been the one to finally pop my unpoppable cherry.
The white ape was getting closer now, and the players of the team were lining up on either side of the path that’d been cleared. It was a walk of shame.
Nicole was nowhere to be found. She should’ve been there. She needed to see what her bullshit did to me, but I knew her better than she knew herself. She was too much of a coward to face me right now, and she good reason for it too.
I kept my back straight, my nose held high, and waited while the men prepared a hellish procession of taunts and half-hearted congratulations. One of them would probably smack my ass on the way in. He’d lose a hand, but he’d try.
They were taking their time. One of them, a young Latino, looked at me from his place in line, ruffled his brow, and turned back. “Dude, she’s actually going to do it.”
The white ape smiled and nodded his head. I could smell his unwashed body from where he was sitting, and his greasy red hair was catching the light. He was just a few feet away now, walking slower. I let him hesitate.
“You take it like a champ, don’t you?” My stomach churned at sight of his sickly smile.
I didn’t say anything. Instead, I let him reach out and place the tiara on my head. Then, when he was about to pull his hand away, I punched him right in the nose. It crac
ked beneath my fist.
“Ah! Ah! Ah!” His hand flew up in a futile attempt to block the wave of blood falling down his face. The team members watched in horror as I started to walk past, smiling at the sound of him wailing. Everything was silent, like the quiet before a tornado falls to the ground.
Nobody moved except for me. I marched right down the line, past the frightened drunks on the porch and into the house, where a cloud of smoke had engulfed the living room and a group of thugs was sitting in the dark, gathered around an ancient sectional.
One was sitting in the on the far edge of the couch. He was hitting a bong when his eyes went wide. He shot up out of his seat, and glass and black water scattered all over the floor. “D-d-d-d….”
My feet moved so fast, it looked like I was hovering off the ground. I closed the space between us in seconds and grabbed the scrawny thug by the throat. “Where is he?” I asked in a low growl.
He was struggling to breathe, and his mouth was opening and closing like he was trying to answer, but he couldn’t. I didn’t care. His face was starting to turn red, and I could see by the way his eyes bulged that he was starting to realize just how serious I was. He raised one tattooed arm and pointed at the staircase near the front door to my left. I let him go, and he fell to the floor.
“I can’t believe you broke that thing. That was $200,” the thug next to him said.
There was a string of used panties tied in a sloppy spiral around the banister. I could smell the urine and sweat on them when I started walking up the stairs. I didn’t like the way it looked, so I tore the whole thing down and kept walking.
There was an open door at the end of the hall to my right. When I got closer, I heard muffled voices. At first, I couldn’t hear anything but their murmurs, but with every step I took, their voices got louder and louder until I heard Channing saying something.
I threw the door open to see him sitting on a bed with his friend Mike. “I’m so sorry. Please,” he shot up off the bed, and I reached into my purse and pulled out a can of mace. I aimed straight for his eyes, and when he shrieked, I smiled.
“I don’t ever want to see you again.” He hunched over, and I kicked him in the gut and ran out.
Chapter Thirty-Two
