by Savage, Kat
“Okay, okay, this is fine. I’m not freaking out but you should know this is a big deal and you’re really weird.” She laughs. “But that’s okay because I can fix it.”
“You can fix it?” I ask.
“Yes, I can fix you, weirdo.” She giggles. “I’ll see you later. I obviously have work to do.”
“I’ll see you later then,” I say, walking back toward the park.
I check back over my shoulder to see her bouncing down the pavement, headphones in, completely unaware that she’s so unbelievably intriguing. I turn back and start my walk through the park. This is the exciting part. The newness of something is always so fun and full of wonder. There’s a lot of laughing and sparks and…hunger. I’m ready for it.
I’m definitely ready for it.
7
Dani
This may be a bad idea. Beautiful men are always a bad idea, actually. My headphones are in and I’m listening to “Slow Down Love” by Louis the Child but my mind is still back half a block. I glance over my shoulder and see him still watching me walk away. But how could a man just not be into music? How could any person not be into music really? Clearly, he needs a musical education and if I do one thing during our time together, however long it lasts, I will give it to him.
I glance over my shoulder again but he’s out of sight. I still have a few hours before work and I plan to use it wisely. I need to run some errands and maybe spend some extra time getting ready for work. I mean, I sort of have a reason to look a little extra cute, right?
I make it up to my apartment and head for the closet. What do you wear when you want to look cute for someone but don’t want them to know you’re trying to look cute for them? Decisions, decisions. It’s still really warm out so I pull out a pair of black high-waisted cut-off jean shorts. These say, “look at my ass”, but also, “I just threw these old things on, no big deal”. Perfect. I’ll just pair it with a simple tank top and a push-up bra and that should do the trick.
My phone buzzes from across the room and I roll my eyes because I know it’s Mark. He’s been texting me every hour. First, they were vague apologies. Then, they sort of shifted into demands. As if, simply because he offers the apology, I am obligated to accept it? No, cupcake. That’s not how it works. There’s no rule about that. I think as we grow up we are taught that accepting apologies and forgiveness is the polite thing to do, but that’s such garbage. I am not obligated to accept or forgive simply because it’s what the other person wants, or what would make them feel better. You know what would make me feel better? Giving him another elbow to the nose. He should be thankful all I’m doing is ignoring him.
I lay out my clothes for later and grab my phone. I bypass the messages and go straight to the music. I start a new playlist and label it “Lucas’ Musical Education”. I start scrolling through my library looking for songs that would be appropriate for someone who never got into music. Without knowing what genre he might prefer, I start adding everything. A little rock, alternative, a few rap and hip-hop songs, even some country. I see a text message pop up on the top of my screen from Mark and it’s in all caps. I roll my eyes and decide it’s time to click on them. There are seventeen unread messages after all. I reach for my cocoa butter lip balm on the table and smooth it over my lips. I probably have a stick of it in every room in the house. Some people might call me obsessed. What can I say? I don’t like chapped lips. And I don’t like lipstick. My mother always said smooth lips were a must and I agree. I begin reading through his messages.
Mark: Dani. I’m sorry, okay? I think we can work this out. Please respond.
Mark: Dani, come on, this is ridiculous.
Mark: Dani!
I roll my eyes as they start to change.
Mark: Fucking answer me, bitch!
Mark: No one says no to me!
Mark: You’re just a bottom of the barrel fuck toy anyway. I’m done with you!
Mark: BYE BITCH
Well, at least he’s done. At least he “ended” it. Men like Mark just need the last word, just need to feel like they’re still in control of a situation that isn’t even a situation anymore. No use arguing with him. I’ll let him have his last word and move on with my life. Good riddance and all that.
I check the clock and I still have some time before I need to get ready for work, so I grab my purse and head for the door. I make my way across the street and down the block to the little pharmacy. It’s not a Walgreens or any big name. The name of the place is Hank’s, and it’s a pharmacy, hardware store, and grocery store all in one. It was one of those businesses that didn’t take the hint when everything started changing. Despite Hank’s slightly higher prices, the owner had loyal patrons that kept him going.
I walk down the aisles collecting a few things I need to mail. The high school student behind the counter rings up my socks, lip balm, a pack of gum, a box of envelopes, and two twenty-five-dollar phone cards and I pay cash. I have cash in abundance usually. With the accumulation of tips each night, it goes in my pocket and my small paychecks go into my checking account. But I use cash to buy and pay for just about everything. Quinn calls me old school for this but I don’t mind. I always know how much I have unlike most people who just watch their money disappear from an app on their phone and scratch their heads.
I get back up to my apartment after making the short walk back and Robert is waiting at my door.
“Did you get it?” he asks.
“Of course. What did you think, that I’d forget?” I pull out the pack of Juicy Fruit and rip it open. I pull out a piece and rip it in half.
We both open our ends and stick it in our mouths at the same time. Robert smiles and I smile. This is something we do together for a few reasons. Robert has dentures so he can only handle half a piece at a time. Plus, it’s something he did with his late wife and he does it when he misses her. He does it to honor her. I’m happy to be a part of it.
Robert looks into my eyes and all I see is a grateful man, happy to have a friend to help him with this. Sometimes I go shopping for Robert because it’s hard for him. And any time I go over to Hank’s, I always pick us up some Juicy Fruit, his wife’s favorite. He doesn’t like the way it’s changed but he eats it anyway. He pats me on the shoulder without saying a word and shimmies past me to the stairs to make his way back down to his apartment.
I walk into my apartment and sit the rest of the items on the counter. I walk to the pantry and grab one of the flat boxes in there and begin making it and taping it. I feel my phone buzz in my back pocket and pull it out.
Quinn: Do you think you could do me a favor? Pretty please?!
This isn’t good. Anytime Quinn asks for a favor, you can bank on it being something you absolutely do not want to do.
Me: That depends.
Quinn: Will you pretty please switch me and go into work at six and let me come in at eight??
I grimace and check the time. That’s in twenty minutes!
Me: OMG could you have waited any later to ask me??
Quinn: I know, I know, but I’m on this date and he’s so cute and it’s going so great!
I sigh. Well, the girl hadn’t been on a successful first date in six months so this does put me in a friendship dilemma. I want to be a good friend. I also don’t want to go in at six though.
Me: Fine. You owe me!
I drop the box and run to my bedroom to get ready, cursing Quinn under my breath. Luckily, my clothes were laid out and decided upon. Otherwise, I’d be fucked. I throw on my shorts, bra, and shirt and slip on my boots. I run into my bathroom and brush my teeth first. I twist my hair back on one side with a bobby pin and fluff it up all over to try to give it some life. My hair has always been a point of contention. It’s rather dull and flat most of the time. I pull out my make-up bag and check my phone. I need to be downstairs in nine minutes. I use some powder, a little peachy blush, and some mascara. As always, I finish with cocoa butter lip balm. I step back and take a look in my full-length mirror. It’s no
t my best look but not my worst either. It’s certainly a little less impressive than what I was going for but maybe that’s in my head. I grab my keys and wallet, shove my phone in my back pocket, and make my way downstairs in a hurry.
I walk in one minute past when I was supposed to be here and Calvin looks up at me from his spot in the back corner. He eyes me for a second and checks his watch. He holds his watch up at me and taps it and I know it means he knows I’m late. I was hoping since this wasn’t my original shift he might not know but it’s clear Quinn had alerted him of the change, which is just another reason to curse her under my breath. I make my way over to the bar and tie my apron in place. I survey the room a bit, noticing it’s not too busy just yet. Though, I had a feeling this would be a long night.
8
Dani
I’m nine years old. My mother has put me in the closet again and I know enough to know my mother doesn’t have a normal job like other parents. She doesn’t have to leave for work. She’s in the house all the time. Sure, our house is nice. I mean, I guess. It’s not the biggest house, or the fanciest, but we have okay furniture and I have my own room and my bed is almost brand new. My mom doesn’t even smoke inside like some people I know.
People come in and out a lot, though. Men, mostly. I wish they didn’t. I know they’re having sex. I don’t know exactly what happens during sex but I know that’s what’s happening. They leave money with her and she tells me they’re just massage clients, but something doesn’t seem right about it. I nod at her simple explanations.
“What do you want for dinner, princess?” she asks me one night after all her clients are gone for the day.
“I don’t know,” I say, a little sadness in my voice.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
“Nothing,” I insist. I always say nothing every time she asks. She knows I’ll say it before she asks, I’m sure.
She looks at me and tilts her head. “Oh my princess, you’re getting so big. Soon you’ll be a woman,” she says.
“I don’t want to be a woman,” I say. The thought frightens me. There’s too much that happens, too much to deal with. What if becoming a woman means I have to have sex too?
“But you’ll love it, darling. You can wear pretty dresses and high heels and make up. Don’t you want to?” she asks.
“Mother?” I ask, because this feels like a mother moment rather than mom.
“Yes?”
“When I become a woman, will I have to have sex too?” I ask.
“No, my love. Never. You can be anything you want to be when you become a woman. Do you hear me? Anything at all. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that you have to be a certain thing. You can even be more than one thing if you want. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I say.
A moment of silence falls over us and she moves across the length of the room to me. She pulls my face up by the chin to look me in the eyes. She smiles down at me and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear and runs her finger across my cheek. Finally, she leans in and hugs me tightly.
“Now. Enough of that. How about a nice, big stack of pancakes?” she asks me.
“Pancakes? For dinner?” I ask, excitement in my voice.
“Of course, why not? There’s no law against it,” she says, smiling big at me.
“My favorite!” I say.
“I know, my princess, I know,” she says.
She starts pulling things from the kitchen cabinets to make the pancakes while I watch from one of the stools at the bar. I know she’s doing this just for me, to cheer me up. Even at nine, I can tell I’m being bribed in a way. Distracted.
My mother always made things up to me. She was good at it. Apologizing without saying the words. She had a gift for it, a real talent.
I ate my pancakes that night. She sat across from me, watching intently, smiling. She made funny faces and tried to steal some bites of my pancakes. Most of the time I let her. She never made her own pancakes. Not even once that I can remember. She said they would give her cellulite, whatever that meant. Probably something I would have to worry about when I became a woman.
She took me by the hand and led me to my room. She laid me down and tucked me in tightly like a burrito. And then she sang. She always sang to me at bedtime. Some songs I recognized and some I didn’t but I loved the sound of her voice so I didn’t care what she sang. I drifted off, her face the last thing I saw before black.
I woke up some time in the middle of the night in a panic. I heard the noises, the night-time clients. There weren’t many and they weren’t all the time but somehow they were worse. They were louder. Sometimes I heard things break in the other room. Sometimes I heard their loud voices through the walls, their laughing. Sometimes I could hear my mother asking them to be quiet. I cupped my hands over my ears.
I could not escape it. I would never escape it.
9
Lucas
I check the time on my phone for what must be the seventeenth time in the last thirty minutes. I am trying to wait patiently to go see Dani. I don’t want to seem too eager so I will wait until an hour after her shift starts to show up. I figure that’s a good plan. The only problem is, that’s still an hour from now and I already want to go.
I feel my phone buzz in my pocket and pull it out.
Elliott: Hey, you wanna meet up?
God, this is so typical of him. No regard for anyone else, no explanation for standing me up or ghosting me for the past couple of days. Nothing. Just a stupid, impersonal invite like we hadn’t spent the last eight years estranged. I write him back.
Me: Can’t sorry, have plans
Elliott: Cool
And that’s that. It would be another week or so before either of us say anything to each other. Even though he owes me eight years’ worth of apologies. Even though he should be trying to make it up to me, make it better between us. Considering it was his fault. Whatever. I’ll never get what I deserve. Some truth, some explanation.
I check my watch again and fourteen whole minutes had gone by. Christ. This is excruciating. Maybe I should go ahead and leave. I’ll just take my time getting there. Maybe I’ll stop off and get her something. No wait, that’s probably too soon. I mean she doesn’t exactly need a drink or food. She has both readily available. Flowers? God no, how terrible would that be? Somehow she didn’t strike me as the type that wanted flowers.
Fuck it. I stand up and grab my wallet and keys. So what if I show up earlier? It wouldn’t be a big deal. Maybe it would even make her happy. I don’t know why I’m putting some much thought into this. It’s not even that big of a deal. Pull it together, man.
I walk downstairs and head over to the bar where Dani works. I think about taking my car but I think it would be better to walk. That way when she gets off we can walk together. I happen to think this is a better idea than driving together somewhere. It provides a lot more opportunity to look at her and I am in favor of that. I wonder what she’s wearing tonight.
I shake the thoughts from my head and keep walking. I feel my phone buzz again and look down at it long enough to see Chelsea’s name pop up. No way. Not again. I thought that was all done with. What the hell is her deal? I shove my phone back in my pocket and ignore it. It’s the best thing to do at this point. She would have to just let go on her own. I feel another buzz and don’t even bother pulling it out.
Several minutes later, I’m standing outside Dani’s work. Given everything, I’m nervous about going in. I don’t even know why. I just feel vulnerable around her. Exposed. It’s unsettling and I like it but it also frightens me. I have to keep a tight grip on this one. I have to play it cool and calm. I have to get into character.
I open the door to the bar and step inside. The place is a little busy but I would expect nothing less. I make my way through the crowd to an open bar stool and take a seat. I don’t search for her until I am settled. I look one way and then the other. There she is at the far end. She’s popping the caps off
beer bottles and sitting them down in front of some guys who clearly recognize just how attractive she is. She smiles her customer service smile while I make it a point to check her out from the neck down. I’m not disappointed. She could probably wear a potato sack and be gorgeous. I think she knows it too but not in a bad way.
“Can I get something for you, hun?” a voice asks, catching my attention from my other side.
I swing around to see another woman behind the bar. She seems very neat and proper and while I’m sure she would do a fantastic job, I only want one woman to serve me my drinks tonight. “Actually, I was waiting on Dani,” I say.
The woman’s eyes light up. “Oh! I’ll get her for you!” she says.
I watch her walk down to Dani and tap her on the shoulder. She leans in and whispers to her and Dani looks up in my direction and the other woman points. Then Dani smiles her real smile. The one that makes the dimple on her left cheek show up. Her customer service smile doesn’t do that.
I watch the other woman stay behind to serve the patrons at that end while Dani makes her way to me.
“Hey stranger,” she says.
“Hey you,” I say.
“So you didn’t trust Quinn with your Heinekens?” she asks.
“I’m sure she would have done a fine job but I just couldn’t bring myself to cheat on you. You’re the only one who should be handling my beer,” I say.
She laughs and turns to grab me one from the cooler. She pops the top off and sits it in front of me. “Can I get you anything else? We have a pretty good bacon cheeseburger and amazing mozzarella sticks.”
“Well what kind of person can say no to either of those things? Which means I’ll have both,” I say.
“Are you a bit starved?” she asks.
“Maybe. It’s very possible. I’m a growing boy,” I say.
“Coming right up,” she says, and walks down to enter the order.