Pandora Wild Child

by Sunniva Dee

  It rings twice while I stalk to the front door of my apartment. Then, my sweet grandmother’s voice is on the other end.

  “Hello?” She never checks the caller ID before she answers, so her pitch rises in a genuine question I always find funny.

  I laugh, relieved. “Hey, Little Lady.”

  Grandma breaks into a giggle too. “Dominic, is that you? Shouldn’t you be studying?”

  Tears burn behind my eyelids. She remembers. She’s fine. I swallow hard before I continue.

  “Aren’t you the slave driver? I can’t study all the time, now can I?” I grin as if she can see me, and a smile tinges her voice when she replies.

  “Oh, Dominic, I know. Take your rest, darling. Even you should relax on the weekend. Make sure to do whatever you students do nowadays. Go dancing. Have you met a nice girl yet?”

  “You’re my only girl,” I tease her, and she snorts.

  “Well, in that case, how come you’re so far away?” she teases me right back. “I don’t even remember what my baby boy looks like anymore.”

  There’s a sliver of truth in what she says, because I haven’t been home in six months. My chest tightens at the thought.

  “Did you open the package I sent you yet? The one you signed for Friday?” I ask.

  Silence.

  “The… square one?”

  It’s probably the only package she has received in months. “Exactly. That one. Why don’t you find a pair of scissors, and I’ll show you something neat.”

  “Oh… okay,” her voice sounds hesitant on the other side, then it muffles. “Alan?”

  “Hey, Mom—let me do that for you,” my uncle starts in the distance.

  “Grandma.”

  She’s chattering with Alan about the box and whether to use the bread knife or the scissors.

  “Grandma?”

  “Yes, dear?”

  “Let’s hang up and you guys can call me back when you’re ready. Over the computer.”

  “We call on the computer?”

  “Yep, and we can see each other. Like on TV.”

  She sucks in a short breath. “Oh, my word!”

  Five minutes later, I’m on my laptop and logged into Skype. They make no attempt at contacting me. I give them a ring, and finally, she’s there, my little grandma, all wispy-haired and bright-eyed.

  “Oh, Dominic!” She clasps her hands and covers her mouth as she laughs. Even Alan grins behind her.

  “Hey, son,” he grumbles. I roll my eyes, but he doesn’t take the hint. “I’m gonna grab a coffee. You want some, Mom?”

  She shakes her head, staring at me. Her fingers become bigger as they stretch toward the screen, like she wants to touch my face. I move closer to the camera, which makes her laugh again.

  “Don’t do that! You look strange now,” she informs me.

  “Okay, and I see only your fingertips.”

  “Really?” Surprised, she drops them. “Oh right, like on video.” She frowns, scrutinizing me through cheap Walgreens reading glasses. “You haven’t slept, have you? To do well in class, you need to sleep, Dominic.”

  Grandma didn’t continue school past eighth grade. This is my sixth year in college, but she still gives me detailed advice.

  “No worries, Little Lady,” I say. “I’m about to take a nap. Stayed out late partying last night.” I flash my teeth at her, knowing she’ll gasp, scandalized. Sure, she wants me to “go dancing,” but “to party” is a little much. I’ve wound her up this way before. She loves it, though.

  “Dominic! You be a good boy, now, you hear me?”

  “Always, Grandma. Always.”

  I feel better after our conversation. Much better. Clearly, my uncle has exaggerated her incapability of taking care of herself. She’s been a bit confused on the phone before. Never the way he describes, though.

  On my desk, my notes on muscle tissue await. Not that I don’t know it all by memory, but I want to brush up on the essentials before the first midterm exam tomorrow.

  My thoughts go to Pandora and her disease while I study the skeletal cartilage elements. I predictably harden as I recall her body in less clinical ways.

  After Dominic leaves, Destiny’s stare lands on me and stays long enough to become uncomfortable. “So, what’s the status with Dominic?” she finally asks.

  Hmm. Or I could ask you about Mica.

  Since Mica started spending more time with Destiny, she doesn’t call me “Wifey” anymore. She rarely parties either, and—with the exception of her sudden, uncharacteristic crack-ups—Destiny has been even quieter than usual.

  The private looks the two of them have exchanged lately? Shannon and I don’t understand; these are our childhood BFFs, and we had no idea anything changed between them.

  What happened? Is this a phase? Did they always know? I have so many questions, more than they do for me, I bet, but Shannon and I agree; we won’t push them until they’re ready to talk.

  “Pandora? Are you guys dating now?” Mica insists.

  “Are you?” I blurt out.

  Well, shit.

  Mica’s face blanches, and for once she doesn’t have a retort ready.

  Shannon has just said goodbye to Christian. She caught our little exchange from the doorway but doesn’t chime in.

  “Mmm, guess you asked first,” I correct myself lamely. “No, I had a weak moment again last night and texted him. He came over.”

  “Oh, man—is he crushing on you or what?” Mica exclaims, grinning. Red splotches still paint her cheeks but she’s a master at recovering. “He’s at your every beck and call.”

  “He is not.”

  “I like him,” Mica adds as if I never spoke. She emphasizes her words with one of her poignant sniffs. “You should keep him. I heard you last night. The man makes you happy. Real happy.”

  “It was just a one-nighter.”

  “A five-nighter,” Shannon says. Boy, they’re on my case. My mouth tugs at the corners, wanting to smile. I hold back, though. They’re not winning this one.

  “Nope, because I’ve only—”

  “—booty-called him? Summoned him?” Shannon helps, and I huff, partly frustrated, partly amused.

  “Shut up, I’m talking. I’ve only asked him to come about three times.”

  “Ooh, and how many times have you come?”

  Shannon again. Goodness, she’s in the gutter today! The others, even Destiny, are snickering.

  My cheeks burn, taking the cue from Mica a minute ago. “Well, for once I’m sad my room isn’t next to yours, Shannon,” I jab out. “I betcha you don’t exactly snore your way through the nights with Christian either.”

  Later, after I spend hours prepping squat for the calculus test I’ll be failing tomorrow, Shannon and I head to the gym. Those ivory fingers of hers, lightly doused with freckles, clench and unclench the steering wheel unconsciously while she drives.

  “So guess what—Christian and I are officially together.”

  I gasp, feigning shock. “No—so you guys haven’t been attached to each other like an old couple for the last few months out of spite?”

  “Spite? You’re so random.” Shannon’s smile is radiant. A touch of pink gloss makes her lips shine.

  I think of how amazing she is. “Congratulations, Shannon. Christian lucked out,” I say. “You’re the best catch ever.”

  Her bright eyes soften and stray from the road to me. “Aw, Pandora. Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?”

  I have a hunch. Shannon is almost as perceptive as Destiny, but I hope she doesn’t go there with this.

  The one-story warehouse boasting Nonstop Fitness appears in front of us, and she pulls into the parking lot.

  “Put yourself down. Pandora, you’re such a beautiful person. I wish you realized how kind, sweet, and caring you are.”

  “Or how messed up I am?” I suggest.

  To stay dry, we huddle in under her umbrella on our way to the entrance. “Seriously, Pan. Everyone
loves you, and for your own benefit, all you need is to cut down on partying and study more.”

  She bobs her head, eyebrows arching. For me, it ruins her sage speech and causes me to snort with amusement. “Oh whatever, Shannon.”

  I’m doing weights today, and Shannon comes along to the “boys’ club.” The grunting stays at an acceptable low, even though half a dozen guys hog the heaviest stations around us.

  I scan the place and find no sign of Dominic. Trainer-Rob doesn’t seem to be here today either. No, wait…

  Rob’s head pokes into the weight room. He’s got a jacket and an umbrella at the ready. When he discovers us, though, he grins and pumps his chin up in greeting.

  “Ladies!”

  Shannon and I share a quick glance while he approaches in an exaggerated swagger. The guy is something else. You always get the impression he’s checking you out.

  “Sorry I can’t stay to tend to your needs,” he begins, and I groan under my breath at how sleazy he makes it sound. “But my shift’s over, and I’m heading off to Sunday dinner.”

  “That’s nice.” Shannon puts her polite hat on.

  “Yes, good for you,” I say in an effort to be equally pleasant.

  Rob nods, rubs his hands together unconsciously and looks us over. “I like the, uh, shorts,” he tells me. He might just be making small talk, but my shorts feel skimpy as hell all of a sudden.

  “Pretty color, right?” Shannon quips.

  Not true. They’re bright pink with a giant silver rose on each thigh, a gift from my aunt, who prattled about them being retro when she passed them on for my birthday. My excuse for wearing them today is that I need to do laundry.

  “Sure,” Rob drags out before cutting to the chase. “So, what’s up with my man Dominic and you?”

  Geez!

  “Nothing.”

  “Why not?” Shannon supplies, and I send her a side glare. Really? We’re adding a dash of Rob the Trainer to this conversation now?

  “Because…” That’s the problem. I can’t find a single trait that makes him not perfect boyfriend material. For the right girl.

  Rob saves me from having to explain further. “Guy almost choked me today.” His blue irises brighten with delight. “Totally strangled me!”

  “What? Why would he do that?”

  “Check this out—he left marks!” Rob leans into me. He smells good, and not roasted-chicken-good either. Some cologne wafts off his thick, corded neck.

  I don’t see a scratch, but he’s eager, waiting for his prize, so I humor him and bob out a “Yep.”

  “All I did was ask about you,” he volunteers. “Dominic’s in deep, Pandora. He went ballistic on me because he’s got tons of shit to do. Not my fault, man.” His shoulders hike up in belated surprise.

  Next to me, Shannon frowns. His explanation doesn’t make sense, but something tells me Rob’s definitely to blame for Dominic’s anger.

  “What… shit?” I ask.

  Rob blows his cheeks up and lets the pent-up air out in a poof. “You don’t even know! Last year in college, works at a spa, then his grandma isn’t well. The spa owner lady—”

  “Right, so busy,” I agree, thinking of my own schedule. The one I should be following versus the one I keep. My stomach sinks.

  Suddenly a gleam of shrewdness settles in Rob’s eyes, and when he speaks, he doesn’t seem so simple anymore. His voice is steady, and my heart hiccups at his statement.

  “Dominic’s supposed to return home to take care of stuff after he graduates. You’re causing trouble, Miss Pandora. Screwing with his plans.”

  Stunned silence. My mouth opens and closes as if I have a ready reply. I don’t. I get up from the bench and shake my head at Shannon. She gets the hint and collects her water bottle and towel.

  Our preparations to leave don’t faze Rob. “I’m not kidding. Dominic went apeshit on the treadmill this morning, so I asked the obvious question: if you didn’t put out.”

  I ignore him, but when we rush past, he swings at the waist, following me with his eyes. “But no, Pandora. He’s rattled because he thinks you’re so fucking awesome.”

  His stare burns against my back as we stride out. Even if Rob’s about to leave, I’m done here. We worked out for all of ten minutes, but I am so shook up right now. I can jog later.

  “Wow he’s about the rudest, most insane—” Shannon starts as I get in the car. She’s got her seatbelt fastened but hasn’t started the car yet. The rain drums on the roof. “You think he’s right, though, about Dominic?”

  I loosen my hair and shove the hairband into a pocket. “Hell no. Rob’s an idiot.”

  But what if he is right? What if my need for company, for Dominic, interferes with his goals?

  I feel dirty.

  “Pandora, sorry to butt in here, but Dominic’s good for you. He’s awesome, crazy about you—he’s got his life all planned out.”

  She doesn’t get it. This isn’t about how amazing Dominic is. I should be easy to read right now, but she’s not catching my vibes.

  “I mean, geez, girl, he’s a catch! I don’t understand why you’re not trying harder. You guys have been bopping around now for months. Three times a week at his job. Whenever you booty-call him, he shows up—”

  “Shut up!” I shout.

  “Wow. Well,” Shannon mutters, at a loss. My outburst took her by surprise, and I immediately regret it.

  “Ugh, sorry,” I begin. Shannon interrupts me, eyes crinkling the way they do when she’s done playing.

  “Sometimes I wonder if you even want to do well—to be fine.” She shakes her head. “Do you? Do you want to be happy?”

  The rain thumps hard around us, streaks of silvery gray firing at the asphalt and splashing back up in a raging dance. We’re so dry in here. Strangely dry when I deserve to get soaked to the skin.

  “I am happy.”

  “Hey, you can fool peeps while you’re in your party-girl mode. Not me, though. After all these years, I see you, chicky.”

  I have a piece of something stuck in my throat. I swallow, but tears soak my vision. Like the rain should be doing to the rest of me.

  My laughter is a sob. “Do you remember the first time you got me out of my walk-in?” I’ve asked before my brain has time to object.

  “Yeah, after your dad caught us at Mica’s party and jailed you. How old were we? Fifteen?”

  “Yep,” I giggle, my voice drowning in mucus. “Tell me how you managed again?”

  Shannon smiles, and the memory of her untamed halo of fiery red hair in the doorway after she flung the door open has my heart bouncing the way it did back then.

  “Easy. The morning after, I snuck into your front yard and hid behind the rosebushes. Total spy-style—”

  My laughter is quiet but real, and Shannon joins me. Her hand strokes my cheek, causing my mirth to recede. If anyone else did this, the pity would have been too much. Shannon’s touch conveys compassion, though, and there’s a difference.

  “I waited forever, and I was still in shock at what you’d told me the night before about your dad.” Her eyes darken the way I remember them from the party.

  “I blame Tina’s parents’ still-fermenting dandelion wine. God, we got so drunk. And sick.” I’m deflecting, and we both know it. She isn’t taking the bait.

  “Well, I’m glad, because it’s probably the only reason why you shared your father’s grounding methods with me.”

  Her words unleash a flurry of emotions in me. I’m outraged at what I went through, what I allowed to happen. Still, my dad; he loves me. He always worked so hard to keep me safe.

  From myself.

  “Then what?” I prompt.

  “Theeen,” Shannon lilts out, “your father got into his little Porsche and drove off.”

  “And Mom?” I ask even though I remember.

  “Good question!” Shannon lifts her index finger like an old-fashioned schoolmistress. “I made sure to arrive at your house between meals, you understa
nd, and she was baking in the kitchen.”

  “But Rocky? Surely—”

  “Ah yes, the Pomeranian.” She stretches in her seat. “He almost ruined the plan. When I snuck in, he prepared for a total yap fest—until I used your trick and showed him the bark collar on the hallway table. Funny how he stayed as quiet as a fluffy little ghost after that.”

  “He hates it.”

  “Yes, so your mother never hears me coming, right? I pass only a few feet behind her back, jog up the stairs super-silently, and tiptoe into your bathroom.”

  During the last five years, I spent so much time praying for that bathroom light to come on. The wafer-thin stream edging in under the closet door dimmed my fears like nothing else could.

  Now that I live away from home, I process my past in ways I never did before. Dad, why didn’t you let me keep the light?

  “After I unbolted his stupid lock,” Shannon continues, “I opened the door. You had your blankies on the floor like you were camping. So cozy, except it was pitch-black.”

  “No light bulb,” I remind her.

  “Yeah, your dad’s a prick. You know that, right?”

  I can’t go there. “We had a couple of hours of fun before he found us at the bowling alley,” I say instead.

  Shannon grimaces. “Damn, your house was like a fortress to sneak into afterward, though.”

  The darkness chews inside me, swells, and suddenly, I’m done talking. I want the past to be the past because it’s over. All over. No one will ever lock me up again.

  I breathe out my relief and slant my gaze up at the skies. A tiny fissure opens where the sun smiles down at us.

  “Anyways. About Dominic,” I begin.

  The car rolls into a puddle, making a swooshing sound as we hit the street. “Yes! Are you going to give the poor guy a bigger bone, Pan? Booty-call him every night, for instance?”

  “Ha. Ha. No. Actually, if what Rob said is even remotely true, then he doesn’t need additional problems. I’m not calling him again.”

  “Right.” She doesn’t believe me. I can tell by the tone of her voice. “What about the massage? Are you going to resist the urge at the spa too?”

  Clearly, I have a knack for drunken confessions. Damn me for going into all sorts of details with her.