The Slam

by Haleigh Lovell

  “You’re right,” he said unconvincingly.

  “Think of it this way,” I said. “If the monster is imaginary, it means that you can just imagine you’re a larger monster and beat up the monster trying to hurt you.”

  Cade held the door open, gestured for me to exit first, then joined me as I stepped out into the balmy night. “I don’t know…” His voice trailed off. “I don’t think I’ll be getting any sleep tonight.”

  “Why not?” I was genuinely flummoxed.

  “Just.” Cade started to speak, then shook his head. “Never mind.”

  “Look,” I said gently. “Your house isn’t suddenly haunted just because you’ve watched a horror flick. Nor is there a killer lurking in the closets just because you’ve watched a slasher movie. If entities like that existed, it would’ve made an appearance long before you watched the movie. And if it never appeared in the past, why would it now?”

  “You’re not scared at all, are you?”

  “Not really,” I answered truthfully. “Why be scared of the dead when the living are far more scary?”

  “The mom in that movie was scary,” he said after a pause. “Especially when she echoed the Babadook’s creepy rhyme… baba-dook-dook-dook and then she threatened her son, telling him she was sick of his talk-talk-talking.”

  As Cade was talking, the moon slipped behind a cloud and a night breeze shifted in, bringing with it a cold gust of air. Suddenly, there was a whisper of movement in the shadows.

  “The fuck was that?” Cade shouted, nearly leaping out of his skin.

  I did my best to comfort him. “It’s okay,” I said softly. “It was just the wind.”

  Cade took a moment to gather his wits, but he didn’t look at all convinced that it was the wind. Even as he drove me home his shoulders were visibly tensed and twitchy.

  Immediately, my nurturing instincts took over. “Do you want to come inside?” I asked as he pulled his Jeep into the driveway.

  Cade switched off the ignition and exhaled a clipped sigh. “Sure,” he said at last. “Care if I spend the night?”

  Poor guy. He must be so afraid that the Babadook boogeyman was coming for him.

  “Of course you may.” I patted his arm and gave him a reassuring smile.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  ENDER

  I had drifted off to sleep in front of the TV, but snapped awake when I heard the front door snick open.

  Closing my eyes, I feigned sleep as I heard Adelaide and Cade moving around the house. I managed to catch some snippets of conversation.

  “He’s sleeping,” Adelaide whispered. “Try to be quiet.”

  “Humph. He sleeps like a big baby.” There was no mistaking the mockery in Cade’s voice.

  “You mean he sleeps like the dead?” Adelaide countered.

  “Huh?”

  “If you’re trying to infer that he sleeps soundly, babies rarely ever sleep through the night. They’re light sleepers, typically waking every two hours or so.” She laughed a little to herself. “I guess people who use that idiomatic expression usually don’t have a baby. If they did, they’d probably never use it.”

  “Use what?” Cade asked.

  Who left the bag of idiots open? The guy’s fuckin’ slow on the uptake.

  “Erm…” Adelaide hedged before quickly changing the subject. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “A beer would be great.”

  Moments later, I heard footsteps padding across the living room. They walked right past me as they headed for the kitchen.

  I opened my eyes a fraction, just enough to peer through my lashes.

  Adelaide grabbed a beer out of the fridge and handed it to Cade. Then she eased herself up onto the countertop so she was perched on the edge of the granite island.

  I swallowed hard. She was wearing that same flimsy dress she wore to the frat party.

  It was probably the only dress she owned.

  Cade popped the tab and drained his beer in one continuous gulp.

  “You feeling better now?” Her voice was tinged with concern.

  “Yeah,” he grunted. “Thanks for being so cool with everything. I was just kind of weirded out by the whole movie.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about it.” She made a dismissive gesture.

  “I’m trying, you know.” A ragged sigh deflated his chest. “I’m trying not to think about the Babadook. But as soon as I’m alone, BAM! I’ll be replaying the worst parts.”

  Hold up! Is Cade actually spooked by the movie?

  Jesus H. Christ! He needs to grow a fucking pair.

  I bet he sits down to pee.

  A grown-ass man afraid of ghosts? Hah! I almost gave a rough bark of laughter.

  Almost. The laughter died in my throat when Adelaide said, “You don’t have to be alone, Cade.” She tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “I already said you could stay here tonight.”

  Sitting on the countertop, dangling her feet back and forth, she smiled at Cade as he moved to stand between her legs. “You mean that?” His voice pitched lower. “You want me to spend the night?”

  “Yes,” she said simply. “If it’ll help you sleep better.”

  He held her gaze steadily. “It will.”

  “Don’t worry, Cade,” she said sweetly. “I’ll protect you from the Babadook.”

  A muscle flexed in my jaw as Cade circled his arms around her waist. “You’re amazing, you know that right?” In the next breath, he crushed his lips to hers, kissing her greedily. I ground my teeth when he plunged his tongue inside her mouth for some tonsil hockey action.

  Anger burned down my throat as he slid a hand between her legs and up her dress. “Mmm,” Cade groaned. “No underwear.”

  He took that as an unspoken invitation to finger blast her.

  “Not here.” Adelaide stopped him at once. Then she slid off the counter, took his hand and led him to her room.

  I watched their shadows disappear behind the door, and the light in her room flicking on a few seconds later.

  I didn’t move. I simply lay in the dark for a long moment, just staring at her door.

  It felt like someone had poured acid in the pit of my stomach.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  ADELAIDE

  “The universe wants me to die alone,” I said tragically and settled myself down on the floor, curling my feet under me like a pretzel. “I should probably start knitting sweaters for my imaginary cats.”

  “Since we’re on the subject of imaginary stuff, let me tell you all about my imaginary husband,” Miguel declared with an air of gravitas. “Straight Ian Somerhalder. He’s perfy! I’d climb that bangin’ bod like a tree.”

  Piper chimed in, “My imaginary husband is Ryan Gosling without Eva Mendes and the baby. If I were Rachel McAdams I would’ve fucked the shit out of him before Eva pounced on him and got herself knocked up.”

  “Fucked the shit out of him…” I pursed my lips thoughtfully. “Is that a play on words because he can only orgasm anally?”

  Piper burst into a spasm of giggles. “Oh, Adelaide. What are we gonna do with you? I thought Cadelaide was happening, y’all.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to say, but Cadelaide is not happening,” I said gloomily. “Not now. Not ever.”

  Not after last night. The emotional scars from the ‘incident’ would stay with me for a long time. I was feeling slightly better now, but I was utterly distraught this morning. An absolute wreck. Thankfully, Piper and Miguel came over and fed me pizza, hot wings, and chips. I was fussed over and cosseted by them all afternoon.

  What can I say? Piper and Miguel are truly the best humans in the cosmic universe and I was so lucky to have them in my orbit.

  “Tell us what happened again.” Piper threw her head back and laughed like a loon. “I wanna hear it again!”

  “No,” I said grumpily. “I already told it three times.”

  “Purrty pleeeeaasssee.” Piper pouted profusely. “I wanna hear it aga
in. Every single gory detail.”

  A delightful sense of schadenfreude engulfed her.

  Even Miguel noticed. He cocked an eyebrow and said in a sonorous, bass Darth Vader voice, “The force of schadenfreude is strong in this one.”

  Blatantly ignoring his barb, Piper cut her gaze to me. “Tell me,” she begged. “Tell me, tell me, tell me.”

  “No,” I said reproachfully. “I still can’t believe that happened. Can you?”

  “No way, José.” Miguel shook his head earnestly.

  “Yes way, Jorge,” I said somberly. “Alas it happened. QUELLE DISASTEUR! Cade’s probably walking around bowlegged like a Dungeness crab… all because of me.” I sighed. “And after that disastrous date, I wouldn’t be surprised if Cade takes a vow and joins the Knight’s Watch. Gah! I’m such a helpless nincompoop.”

  “Cheer up, gurrrl.” Miguel did a zigzag finger snap. “You did the right thing! Cade is SUCH A COCK. He’s nothing but an arrogant prick that needs constant mollycoddling. He thinks he’s all that and a bag of chips!”

  At the mention of chips, my spirits lifted a little and I reached for the bag of cool ranch Doritos.

  “Food’s my side bitch, too.” Piper grabbed a handful of chips. “I got some low ass blood sugar right now. And just so you know, my date last night sucked as much as yours.” Reaching for the bottle of SKYY, she sloshed some vodka into a mug. “Miguel? Adelaide?” She looked at us pointedly, bottle poised ready to pour.

  “No thanks,” I muttered.

  “I’m doing my annual Goop detox,” Miguel declared self-importantly.

  “Ugh!” Piper cried, stuffing gobs of chips in her mouth and quaffing back booze. “Don’t go all Gwyneth Paltrow on me! Keep your elitist Goop nonsense to yourself!”

  Miguel rolled his eyes. “Spare me the sermon,” he said haughtily. “And don’t be so judgey.”

  “I can’t help it,” Piper retorted, side-eyeing him really hard. “I’m judging you.”

  “Ahem.” Miguel cleared his throat loudly. “Why don’t you tell us how your date went last night, Miss Judgey?”

  Piper lifted her mug to her lips and took a huge gulp. “Brad turned out to be a drip. He asked if he could kiss me.” She took another swig. “JUST KISS me, dammit. And DON’T ASK ME!”

  Miguel snorted in derision. “I bet Brad’s the type of guy who says, ‘Are you okay?’ a gazillion times during sex. BLERRRGGH.” He made a gagging noise. “Ball gags are made for a reason, just sayin’.”

  Piper drained her mug and refilled it. “I wish he’d never asked me and just went for it and KISSED ME, goddammit. Sooooo stupid.”

  “Muy estúpido!” Miguel agreed.

  Humph. I didn’t think it was naff at all. I actually thought it was rather sweet. “Where did you meet this Brad person?” I asked. “I’d like to meet guys like him.”

  “TINDOYYRRR,” she slurred.

  Gosh. Piper sounds completely sloshed. By now she was nursing her fourth mug of vodka.

  “Why aren’t you on Tinder?” Miguel reached for my phone and started downloading the app. “Let me show you how this works, love.”

  Minutes later, Miguel had shown me the basics of swiping right and left.

  The first guy I came across looked rather attractive so I took a moment to check out his bio. “What do you think of him?” I said, holding out my phone.

  “Ohhh,” Miguel said coyly. “Let’s see what we can learn about Jared.” He flashed me a cheeky grin before continuing. “Jared says he’s independent, so no mommy issues. He also says he’s competitive, so daddy issues instead.” He frowned. “Humph. I’m not digging his zip-up hoodie over the bared chest picture. That’s such a cheesy hunk look.”

  “So cheesy,” Piper concurred. “Oh, and don’t forget guys with the shirtless backpack look. Stay away from those, too!”

  “Okay.” I began swiping right on guys doing activities outdoors be it surfing, biking, or mountain climbing. Guys with pictures of their adorable pets and their families. Guys dressed up and dressed down. In general, just guys with pictures that weren’t specifically about their bodies or physical features. Sadly, those were few and far between.

  “So many of them take shirtless selfies in the bathroom mirror.” I swiped left. And left again and again.

  “If the dude’s ripped and has a nicely sculpted body, I really don’t care,” Miguel said. “If he has a shirt on, I’ll just be wondering what’s under the shirt.”

  “Wondering about what exactly?” I asked. “Psoriasis? Eczema? Tattooed passages from the Bible?”

  “No, you ninny! I’ll be wondering if he’s got a bangin’ bod under the shirt! That’s why I don’t mind the shirtless selfies.”

  “I do,” Piper shot back. “It just screams ‘I’m shallow and I’m just looking to hook up!’ I can’t believe some women actually fall for a naked torso.”

  As if on cue, Edric and his naked torso sauntered into the room. He leaned against the doorframe in a position designed for optimum ab exposure.

  All of a sudden, Piper and Miguel were acting rather strangely.

  “Ha ha ha! That’s sooooo funny.” Piper gave a tinkling laugh.

  And Miguel was acting like we were all having a whale of a time.

  I gave Edric a little wave and said, “Hi, Sausage.”

  Abruptly, Piper and Miguel pivoted around like they’d only noticed him for the first time.

  “Helllllloooooo, Edric,” Miguel cooed.

  “Oh haaaaaiiiiiiiiii.” Piper addressed her words to his naked torso.

  “Hey,” Edric grunted. Then he jerked his chin at me and said, “How’d your date with fuckboy go last night?”

  “Don’t ask,” I groaned. “I don’t want to talk about it now.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because… erm…errr… reasons.”

  “All right,” Edric said casually. “Come talk to me when you’re ready, okay?”

  I nodded and as he turned to leave, my phone started buzzing. I checked the display. “Wow! I’ve already got a couple matches on Tinder!”

  “Yay!” Piper cried elatedly. “Any messages yet?”

  “Four messages,” I said and read the first one out loud. “I’d love to place my balls in your gaping rectal chasm.” I cringed inwardly. “Gross!”

  “Ewwww!” Piper pulled a face.

  “Read the next one!” Miguel instructed.

  So I did. And my face crumpled. “All of them are into butt stuff!!!”

  “What’s wrong with butt stuff?” Miguel countered.

  “For one,” I said. “It’s incredibly easy to get anal fissures. You can also become incontinent through loss of sphincter elasticity. Not to mention, some men don’t realize that you can’t switch from anal sex to vaginal sex without changing condoms or having a shower first.”

  “Hmm,” Piper mused aloud. “What happens if they don’t?”

  “You could contract a urinary tract infection.”

  “Interesting.” Piper was quiet for a moment before she proffered, “I think a lot of men are convinced that butt stuff is something women will either love, or grow to love, but I’d say that’s only applicable to the minority of women. And I so happen to be in that minority!” she exclaimed gleefully. “But I get that some women, and even men gain absolutely no pleasure out of it, but feel pressured into doing it anyway.”

  “Oh, by the way,” Miguel chimed in. “That thing you mentioned about loss of sphincter elasticity? It’s nothing but a playground rumor. A sphincter is a muscle like any other. If you stretch a muscle regularly, it gets stronger, not weaker. You never hear about gym rats who lift so many weights that their arms go floppy and stop working.”

  I nodded sagely, grateful for his enlightenment. Nonetheless, butt stuff was still not my cup of tea, and when I received yet another Tinder message from a guy who was into butt stuff, I let out a heavy sigh. “Sorry, Miguel. I’m starting to think this Tinder app isn’t for me.”

  “You’re on Ti
nder?” Ender’s deep voice unfurled from the doorway.

  I looked up and there he was, a shirtless Ender, looking pensive and introspective as he lounged against the doorframe, his sun-darkened skin shimmering with a thin sheen of sweat.

  For a moment, I forgot what I was saying. I was too distracted by his torso. When I finally found my voice, my tone was accusing. “Why are you shirtless?”

  “Just got back from practice.” He scowled. “Why weren’t you there?” His tone was demanding.

  “I… erm… errr….” I stammered. “Reasons…” My words petered out.

  In the silence that followed, I found myself maniacally twirling my hair around my fingers, going bright red.

  Thankfully, Miguel came to the rescue. “Ay, Dios mio! Adelaide had a rough night but she’s doing much better now.” He gave me a tender smile and patted my hand affectionately. “Don’t worry, mi princesita. This is a day to look back on with fond memories.”

  “Adelaide,” Ender said in a quiet voice. A dangerously quiet voice. “What happened last night?”

  The words seemed to clot in my mouth and I had to clear my throat twice to get them out. “Nothing,” I said in a small voice.

  Ender’s dark gaze burned across the room and his voice descended to a single ominous note. “Adelaide…”

  “C’mon, Piper,” Miguel tutted loudly and began ushering her out the door. “I’m going to my three o’clock Spin class and you’re coming with me.”

  “I’ll go, but last time I went I broke my vagina on the bike,” she wailed as Miguel dragged her away.

  I stared after their retreating backs. “Aren’t they delightful?”

  Ender’s mouth twitched at the corners. When he spoke again, his tone softened a fraction. “You wanna tell me about last night?”

  I didn’t answer right away and the thread of our conversation was lost in tense silence. The way he was looking at me right now, it was making me so flustered. I was suddenly feeling all hot and bothered. “Let’s go outside,” I said at last. “I could use some fresh air.”