My brows furrowed at the dejected sound of her voice. As soon as I came around the corner, I searched her face. “What’s wrong?”
“I need to talk and neither of you picked up the phone and… I’m so fucking mad!”
“What’s wrong?” I repeated.
Alex started pacing across the living room. “Date Night with The Lost Boys,” she grumbled.
Meghan and I looked at each other.
“What about them?” Meghan asked slowly.
I hadn’t told Alex about the sex dreams about Carlos. I also didn’t tell her about the actual sex with Carlos. I didn’t know what she was about to say, but I knew that it was going to make telling her about him that much more difficult.
“You know how people email them questions and stuff?” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Well apparently, people email them stories and pictures, too.”
“For what? It’s a podcast.” I wondered, folding my arms across my chest.
“Apparently for their newsletter.” Alex’s tone was bitter.
“They have a newsletter?”
“They do now. And guess who was featured in the debut newsletter.” She dropped her head into her hands.
“What?” Meghan screeched.
My blood was boiling. “I need more information.”
She unlocked her cell phone and opened her email. After a shaky breath, she began to read. “Date Night Announcement: In honor of a certain ‘journalist’ who can’t keep our name out of her mouth—”
“They’re talking about you,” Meghan gasped.
I nodded, fuming.
Alex’s jaw dropped. “Really?”
“They got wind of the article I wrote for the Times and weren’t happy about it. I said they objectified women so I’m assuming it has to be me they’re talking about. Keep reading.”
“Wow,” Alex muttered before reading again. “And since the colder weather is coming, we are bringing you something special. With fall here, there are only a few more days remaining for unobstructed fun bag sightings. Send us your favorite photos and stories about big, beautiful breasts that need to be celebrated before it’s officially fall. We want to see the cleavage! Show us the fun bags. To get us started, here’s a few we’ve received.”
“What is wrong with these people?” Meghan burst out as photo after photo of women in low-cut tops were displayed on screen.
When Alex paused, I nervously waited for what was coming next.
“HistoryBuff says he was distracted by his date’s fun bags all night. Here’s his story and why his date gets Fun Bags of the day.” She lingered on that spot before she read the story aloud. “My date for this weekend is hot and I couldn’t stop staring at her tits. It was the first thing I noticed about her, but after getting to know her, I thought she was cool, too. But this weekend, in this yellow dress I’d never seen her in before, I couldn’t think about anything else but fucking her. When I tried to make a move, she said she wasn’t ready. I said okay and didn’t try again, but I’m confused. She was flirting with me. She went out of town to this important event with me. She was wearing this dress, for God’s sake. Am I wrong for just wanting to fuck her or was she sending mixed signals?”
“That tutor did not submit your picture to Date Night with The Lost Boys,” Meghan fumed.
She scrolled down, and a picture of Alexandria filled the screen. Although the photo was cropped to only show from her mouth down to her waist, it was clear it was her.
“So, not only is he a Date Night subscriber, but he submitted your photo to them?” I asked in horror. “Who does this?
“Someone with no friends and no game.” Alex continued looking at her phone. “HistoryBuff, you’re not wrong. She’s wrong. She wouldn’t have had that dress on if she didn’t want it. So, stare all you want, fantasize all you want, and when she gives you the green light, motorboat those puppies. Women like that piss me off. She’s hot, but she loses points for dressing like a slut and then not acting like one. Attention, fellas, if you see these tits, know that she’s a little cock tease. The honor of fun bags of the day goes to HistoryBuff’s tease because damn!” Alex let out a growl and stood up. “How is this okay?”
“It’s not okay. Not only were you and the other four women objectified, this whole thing is just gross,” I commented.
“This should be illegal,” Alex stated, hands on her hips.
“Was this picture taken without your knowledge?” I asked, pulling out my phone to research.
“Well, no.” She stopped walking. “I posed for the picture.”
“You’re not doing anything wrong. You are wearing a dress that looks damn good on you. The fact that it’s being twisted into something different by The Lost Boys is wrong on their part.”
“Yeah. That tutor guy, Jay, is lame and completely wrong for sending it in, and for seeking advice from those assholes, but The Lost Boys are the real villains of this story,” Meghan pointed out.
“Definitely,” I agreed. “Jay could’ve told a friend that he was disappointed that you didn’t want to sleep with him. He shouldn’t have reached out to Date Night. But what Date Night did is disgusting.”
“And it’s not even on a website that can be taken down. It’s part of a newsletter that went straight to their subscribers’ inboxes,” Alex wailed. “Do you know how many people asked me if it was me?”
“How many?”
“Five people! And two of the people asking weren’t even subscribers. They were just forwarded the email by someone else.” Alex shook her arms at her sides. “And because my face is cropped out and it doesn’t use my name and it’s a picture taken in a public venue, it’s not illegal. But all these skeevy guys are sitting around looking at my breasts, calling me a slut.”
“I’m sorry, Alex.” I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a squeeze. “They thought I was giving them shit before, but they have no idea what’s coming their way now. What can we do to make you feel better?”
Meghan went to the other side and hugged her from behind. “Whatever you need, we have your back.”
As we stood in our three-person hug, we waited for Alex to tell us what she wanted us to do. But my mind was racing. It was one thing when they verbally attacked me. But they elevated their objectification of women by using pictures to shame and disrespect women.
“Can I stay for dinner?” Alex asked.
“Of course.”
“Akila’s cooking vegetables,” Meghan added with a hint of sarcasm.
“I have another question,” Alex announced, lifting her head from my shoulder.
“What’s that?”
“Can Meghan cook?” she joked, untangling from our hug.
We laughed, breaking the revenge fueled thoughts that flooded my brain.
“Thanks for making me feel better, guys,” Alex sighed when her giggles subsided. “I know I can’t do anything about the situation, but I feel better.”
“Good. And I will make sure I add this to my article,” I informed them as I headed into the kitchen.
“No!” Alex’s reaction took me by surprise.
I turned around and looked at my sister. “Why not?”
“It’s only going to make things worse. Once word is out that there’s daily photos of breasts being sent out, they will have even more subscribers and even more listeners,” she argued.
I considered what she said for a minute. “You’re right. But we can’t let them get away with this. They basically called me out and then used a picture of my sister. That can’t be a coincidence.”
“Maybe there’s another way to call them out about this. Because Alex is right. Giving the newsletter attention will only make things worse,” Meghan pointed out.
I walked into the kitchen and they followed me. Washing my hands, I considered a few different things, but my mind kept coming back to one. “I’m going to confront them face-to-face.”
“What?” Alex screeched.
“How?” Meghan inquired.
I smiled.
Drying my hands, I walked over to the kitchen table where they were seated. “I’m going to call them out on their own show.”
“How are you going to get on there? From the looks of things, they don’t like you too much.” Alex stopped. “Your photography partner! I know he’s one of them, but you liked him! You said he wasn’t that bad. Maybe you can find out something.”
I swallowed hard. “Yeah. Maybe.”
Meghan tilted her head. “Why do you look like that? You don’t think he’s involved, do you?”
They both stared at me, waiting.
I couldn’t tell them I slept with Carlos—not yet, anyway.
I shook my head. “I-I don’t think so. I mean, I know he couldn’t have done it last night because we were together—for an assignment… for Re-Mix,” I stammered. My eyes shifted between the two of them.
As the people who knew me best gave me critical looks, I felt embarrassed and ashamed. I busied myself pulling out the ingredients to make stir-fry.
I slept with someone who willingly and knowingly associates with the type of people who send out newsletters of breasts. And calls them fun bags, of all things. I slept with someone who condones the disrespect that Date Night encompasses. What have I done?
“Um, Akila? Hello?” Meghan summoned.
“Huh?”
“I was asking if you thought Carlos seemed different last night? Like he knew?”
Different? You mean before or after he fucked my brains out?
“No. Not that I could tell,” I answered, pouring extra virgin olive oil into the pan. “He seemed… he seemed different in a good—positive way. He seemed okay.”
“Hm. Do you think he was just being nice because he knew?” Alex wondered aloud.
Was he just being nice because he knew the shitstorm was coming?
“I don’t think so.” My words were slow, measured.
“Did something happen?” Meghan eyed me suspiciously. “You’re being weird.”
With my focus on sautéing the veggies, I replied, “I’ll ask Carlos if he can get me on the show and I’ll settle this once and for all.”
When I glanced up, Alex was staring at her phone, but Meghan was watching me. She quirked an eyebrow when our eyes met, and I looked back down at the pan.
“Do you want rice?”
Chapter Fourteen
“I’ll pose for you anytime. Let me know if you ever need anything else and I’d be happy to oblige. Good luck with your assignment. Cheers, Niles,” Meghan read the card aloud before tucking it back within the bouquet of flowers. “What kind of flowers are these?”
“What am I? A botanist?” I joked, throwing my hands up in the air. “The only flower I know is a rose.”
She tossed her head back and laughed. Her curly red wig swaying with each bout of laughter. “Well, looks like Niles is still thinking about that date you two had almost a month ago now.”
“Or he’s just being a sweetheart since he posed for my photos. The subject was supposed to be a good-looking man, and Niles is a good-looking man so…” I shrugged. “I really didn’t have anyone reliable I could use. I wanted to capture someone who has inner and outer beauty. And men like that aren’t ringing my phone.”
She pursed her lips but remained quiet.
“I know what you’re thinking.” I narrowed my eyes at her.
She plopped down on the couch next to me. “What am I thinking?”
“You know what you’re thinking.”
She laughed. “I didn’t even say anything! I was just minding my business.”
“Cut the shit, Meghan! You were going to ask me about Carlos.”
Tucking a leg underneath her, she turned her entire body to face me. “Well, now that you mention it, you fucked him on Sunday night and then had the audacity to wait until Tuesday to tell me—”
“I didn’t get home until after midnight so technically, it was already Monday at that point. But I was going to tell you when you got home from work, and then Alex came over with the Date Night newsletter bombshell. And after hearing about what happened with Alex, I didn’t think that was the time to say, ‘hey, by the way… you know how you guys have been teasing me about my lack of sex? Well, guess who got fucked by one of the men who posted pictures of my sister in the newsletter?’”
Meghan snickered. “Yeah, that probably wouldn’t have been the best timing, but still… we don’t keep secrets. I feel like there’s been this huge rift in our relationship all week because of it.”
“Stop it!” I exclaimed with a laugh. “It’s Wednesday. I told you on Tuesday, and it happened late Sunday night. Basically Monday. So technically, you knew the next day.”
“Still… I told you the day I had sex with Derrick.”
“I heard you the day you had sex with Derrick!”
We giggled.
“And in my defense…” I looked down at the ground. “I was a little embarrassed.”
“Why?”
My head snapped up. “Because he’s a Lost Boy. He represents everything I’m against. His friends are trash, and he’s—”
“Trash adjacent,” she interrupted, rolling her eyes. “I know, I know. But you don’t really think Carlos had anything to do with the newsletter, do you?”
I sighed. “I don’t think so, but I don’t know.”
“What does your gut say? And have you asked him?”
Wordlessly, I shrugged.
My gut said he didn’t have anything to do with it. But part of me was scared to find out that he really was associated with it and I had sex with him. The fact that he was part of the show was evidence enough that he didn’t make the best decisions. If I found out he wasn’t who he presented himself to be, it would be evidence that I didn’t make the best decisions. Either way, I’d been stressed about it for two whole days.
She reached out and squeezed my hand. “Have you talked to him?”
“Not really. I mean, we talked on Monday for a little bit. He called Tuesday, but I didn’t answer. We texted a little today, but that was to confirm we submitted our photos. I texted him earlier asking him about Date Night.”
“Speaking of that… what’s the update?”
“Update on which thing?”
“On getting on Date Night?”
“When I sent my article in, I contacted Luna and told her I was thinking of doing it. She said it was a fantastic idea.” I made a face. “I figure if I go through Carlos, I can get on the podcast sooner than if I were to send an email.”
She nodded. “So, what’s the update on the other thing?”
“What’s the other thing?”
“You climbing on Carlos’s dick again.”
“Meghan!” Caught off guard, I covered my face and hoped she didn’t see that I was starting to blush. Not because I was ashamed of the sex talk; I was ashamed that after everything, I still thought about it.
“It’s not happening again. It was a one-time thing and in lieu of the newsletter, a lapse in judgement.”
“I could tell by the way you told me the story that the sex was good. No one gets starry-eyed over mediocre dick.”
Unable to contain myself, I burst out laughing. My entire body was shaking, and I didn’t hear my cell phone vibrating on the couch beside me.
Seeing Carlos’s name, I looked to see if Meghan saw the name on the screen.
“Yeah, I saw it.” She folded her arms over her chest. “Are you going to answer it?” Making her voice higher in pitch and comically sexual, she imitated how she thought I’d sound. “Oh, Carlos! I’ve been thinking about that big dick since you wore those sweatpants in the park!”
Swatting at her, I was barely holding it together when I answered my vibrating phone. “Hello?”
“Akila?” Carlos sounded confused.
Getting off the couch and heading to my room, I left a giggling Meghan in the living room.
“Yeah, it’s me. My best friend lost her mind and was making me
laugh. What’s going on?”
“Just getting home. I got your text earlier and wanted to talk to you about it.”
I closed the bedroom door behind me. “Okay…?”
“I thought you said you hated Date Night.”
“Oh, I do.”
“Why do you want to do the show?”
“Because I was personally attacked, and I deserve the opportunity to defend myself.”
And because I’m about call The Lost Boys out about their toxic masculinity and their bullshit advice.
He hesitated. “Personally attacked?”
“Yes. I believe it was City Boy who said there was no validity to what I was saying and that I was just a spinster looking chick who was just looking for someone to blame for my spinster lifestyle.”
“You don’t care about that.”
“You’re right. I don’t care what they think of me. But I care that their toxicity is being passed off as advice especially after what happened with Brad. And also, our articles on Koi come out on Saturday, and it’ll be good to hear what City Boy has to say in response to real life application of his advice.”
Carlos was quiet.
“And Luna thinks it’s a good idea, too.”
Carlos let out a heavy breath. “I don’t know, Akila.”
“What’s the problem?”
“I just don’t know if it’s a good idea.”
My eyebrows furrowed. “What’s really going on?”
“They’ve made you public enemy number one and I just don’t know what’s going to happen if you’re on the show.” He spoke slowly as if choosing his words carefully.
“I’m not worried about those two trash ass friends you call City Boy and Country Boy. I want to be a guest on the show. Preferably this weekend.”
He sighed, taking a few seconds to think about it. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do.”
“Great, thanks.”
“We record on Friday.” He hesitated. “Let me reach out to them and then let you know.”
“Okay. Thanks, Carlos.”
“Don’t thank me just yet. I’ll get back with you.”
“Okay.” I smiled. “Thank you.”
“Bye, Akila.”
“Bye, Carlos.”
Sweatpants Season Page 18