Something Fierce

by Drayer, David

  Kerri hated the two guys, especially the tall one. He had a phony smile, was saying some bullshit that she couldn’t hear over the music, and spitting when he talked. She wanted to keep the circle closed, but there was not going to be a vote this time. Tiff was intrigued by something the tall one said so they were in. For a while anyway. Kerri danced away from them. She didn’t want to be associated with guys like that, so uncouth, so rude. Too stupid to know that you don’t approach four girls and completely ignore the two you’re not interested in like they were garbage, like they didn’t exist. Carlene was the one she felt sorry for, big nosed and pitiable, leaning in, trying to be included, ready to agree or laugh along with whatever asinine thing these fools were saying.

  Screw that. Kerri left the dance floor, but no one seemed to notice. She went back to their table to check her phone. Five missed calls from Kyle. He’d been impossible since she’d been forced to tell him—in order to get some breathing room—that she had no physical attraction to him and was in love with Seth. Kyle tried to be big about it and insisted that the most important thing in the world to him was her happiness, but he’d been moody and erratic ever since, ignoring her for a few days and then hounding her like this with the phone calls. There was a text message too: Jinx is sick. Please come. Friends only.

  She was about to put the phone back in her purse when she saw Seth’s wallet. The plan was to return it after the weekend but looking at it now made her feel sad. She felt worse when she opened it up and found a crinkled ten dollar bill and a note that she’d left for him a while back: I love you! He always saved her notes. He even saved ticket stubs if it had been a great night. She had an impulse to call him and tell him that she was sorry. Not about the wallet, of course, she’d have to return that as deftly as she’d taken it but about the fight. It had been mostly her fault; she couldn’t say that either but she could say she was sorry they’d fought and that she missed him. That would be enough.

  He’d been clingy that day which always made her feel claustrophobic and smothered. Many times he’d written in his journal that it bothered him when she would drop the names of male friends that he’d never heard of and then “casually change the subject, volunteering nothing else.” If he wanted to know more, he wrote, he had to ask and when he’d asked, she’d be evasive. He also accused her of “leading men on” though he’d never met or seen her around any of these men, another thing that bothered him.

  So, feeling annoyed with him that day, she’d pushed those buttons by peppering their conversations here and there with the names of some of her guy friends from school and work: Chris, Daniel, and David. It worked. Seth had started prying then, acting all jealous and paranoid and controlling, which made her feel more boxed in. The fight had gotten pretty intense. She’d purposely left her phone out and went to the bathroom. She’d made it faster than usual and came out to catch him checking her phone. Then things had really gotten ugly. He’d been the one that looked like the fool though. Not only had he been invading her privacy, he couldn’t have found their names in her call history anyway. She’d given them all female names: Chris was Christina, Daniel was Danielle, and David was Darla.

  He’d apologized in the end, admitting that he had no right going through her phone, but he’d said a lot of mean things before that so she’d punished him by taking his wallet. But now, she was sorry she’d done any of it and she missed him so much all of a sudden. It felt like her heart was breaking open. She would have cried right then and there if Carlene hadn’t joined her at the table.

  Carlene had a sheepish smile on her face and shouted unconvincingly, “This is fun. The DJ’s great.” She bobbed her head against the beat of the music. Then she leaned toward Kerri and shouted, “You want a drink?”

  She didn’t really, but sending the girl on an errand was better than having to talk to her. “Get me a Wet Pussy.”

  Carlene laughed like a second-rate clown. When Kerri didn’t join her, she stopped and said, “What?”

  “It’s a drink.”

  Carlene didn’t seem to believe her. She looked across the room, buying time, then said, “Really?”

  “Ah…yeah.”

  “Okay,” she said and went to the bar.

  Kerri surveyed the crowd and felt a terrible emptiness overpowering her. She suddenly hated this scene, this nightmare of desperation: girls looking and acting like sluts for free drinks and ego boosts; guys strutting around like they owned the place and the girls were brought in for their entertainment.

  And yet, watching Tiff, Donna, and the boys dance, she couldn’t help but feel jealous. At least she had the satisfaction of knowing how poorly the boys had chosen. Tiff was popping her ass, rubbing up against the tall one, but little did he know that was as good as it was going to get. This dude, Kerri could already tell by the way Tiff was looking around, wasn’t even going to get a kiss. He would never imagine that Tiff was a virgin, saving that cherry for her husband, whoever he turned out to be. She didn’t even give blowjobs unless she was practically engaged. If the next song was not one of her favorites, Tiff would return to the table where she would let this moron buy her—and her thirsty friends—a round of drinks, after which, they’d return to the dance floor and the circle would gradually close leaving him no choice but to awkwardly dance away.

  The short guy dancing with Donna wasn’t doing any better in the scoring department. In fact, he wasn’t even getting the bump and grind on the dance floor. The difference was, however, he already knew he wasn’t going to get laid. Donna didn’t lead guys on. She told them right up front that she had a boyfriend and was just out to have fun with her friends. If he wanted to dance with her that was cool, if he was after something more, she wasn’t his girl. Most guys tried to seduce her anyway—men were such whores—saying that they wouldn’t tell if she didn’t. Some thanked her for her honestly, but then had to go talk to someone on the other side of the room and never returned. Others, like this guy tonight, danced with her anyway, maybe glad to be relieved of the pressure to score. He was probably telling her how lucky her boyfriend was and meaning it, probably dreaming of someday meeting a girl like her, as sincere as she was sexy and beautiful.

  Carlene brought back the drinks, moving her head like she was just loving this night. “I got one too,” she said. “They’re not very big.”

  Kerri took one of the drinks from her and said, “They’re shots. You’re supposed to shoot them.” Then she shot it back. Carlene nodded but didn’t follow suit. The thought of her getting ready for the evening was tragic. All the time she must have spent and for what? To be outshined by Tiff and Donna, to have those pricks look right through her. It was a horrible world. Really. A disgusting place. She hated it. She hated everyone in it.

  Except for Seth, who she was missing terribly right now. She wanted to get out of this evening and be with him. She needed that but she’d told him she was in bed with the flu so tonight was out. Maybe she could call him later. He’d be awake. He was always awake. In the meantime, she sent him a text: How are you, baby? I’m feeling a little better. Not a lot, but a little. I miss you so much. I can’t wait to see you. I love you!

  “I have to pee!” Carlene shouted to her.

  “Congratulations.”

  The girl made a laughing sound. “You want to come with?”

  “No.”

  Carlene looked at her drink and the bathroom. “I need some air,” Kerri said before she was asked to play drink-sitter. She grabbed her purse and went out the door. It was a beautiful spring night. Slightly chilly, but nice. The outside patio bar was open for business and Kerri took a seat at it. Since she wouldn’t be seeing Seth tonight, she lit a cigarette and took a long satisfying drag. Watching the smoke dissipate in the air, she knew Seth would be ticked off if he found out that she smoked sometimes, not because she was smoking but because she’d never told him about it. He would accuse her of “lying by omission” again or add this to the evidence he was gathering in his journal—all c
ircumstantial so far—that she led a double life.

  He wrote about these things incessantly. Pages and pages worth. Reading it was a little scary. Sometimes he wrote in red or green ink and when he was writing in these colors, he was writing as someone else. The red ink was a mean character that berated him, said sarcastic and mean things to him. The green ink was a character just as harsh but one that encouraged him and was very against her. On a couple of occasions, he would switch back and forth between the black ink that he usually used and one of the other colors, having these weird conversations with himself where he tried to convince himself that he should or shouldn’t trust her, that he was or wasn’t crazy, that he should or shouldn’t leave her. But no matter the verdict, he was terribly lonely when she wasn’t there and he was obsessed with thinking about her. When he did come to a conclusion that he should leave her, she made sure he didn’t. She had a crisis of some sort and needed his help or she surprised him with a gift or she was in a great mood or she was insatiably horny. And he would come around little by little until things were good between them again and they were both happy.

  But then, she’d want to be somebody else for a while without having to give up who she was, what she had, what she’d earned. Maybe she was a selfish person or as she’d once told Kyle, a hateful bitch, but this is how she was, it was how she’d always been. Not everyone could play fair. Not everyone was built for it. She knew she wasn’t. Maybe someday she’d be a better person, maybe after they were married and having babies together. But she was done thinking about this now. Things were the way they had to be and she refused to feel guilty about it.

  Two guys at the other end of the bar were looking at her, discussing her. She smiled shyly and turned away. They were not bad looking but they were young. Her age seemed so much younger on other people. Especially guys.

  She checked her phone. Seth hadn’t responded to her text.

  The boys flagged down the bartender and then he was on his way over. The gentlemen would like to buy the lady a drink. They smiled and waved at her; she smiled and waved at them. “A Wet Pussy,” she said to the bartender.

  “I’ll need to see some ID.”

  She handed over a fake license which put her at twenty-four years old. He studied the card and handed it back. “Make sure you tell them what I ordered.”

  “Of course.”

  When they got the news, they smacked fists with each other. Strike one.

  She wasn’t sure if she was in the mood to hook up tonight or not but she could be persuaded. She couldn’t see Seth tonight anyway and the guys were kind of cute. They were, however, on their way to their second strike because it was taking them way too long to decide on which one should come over or if they should come together.

  “Hey Prancer.” Levi took the stool next to her. He called her Prancer because when she visited him at the Ink Spot, he said that she “pranced” when there were other men around.

  “Stalking me again?” she said.

  He took the cigarette out of her hand and took a drag. “You told me you were going to be here.”

  She had forgotten that she’d texted him earlier.

  “We still on for Monday night?”

  “Of course.”

  The guys who bought her the drink were looking pissed but if they were smart, they’d leave it at that. Levi was a bad motherfucker and he loved to fight. “Plan on coming to my place early so we can do a little pre-drinking before the concert.”

  “I don’t pre-drink.”

  “I do. Besides, I want to fuck you before we leave.”

  She took her cigarette back. “You wish.”

  “I know. We’ll have to leave at six. Be at my place by five.”

  She wasn’t missing Seth as much now and figured she could tell him that she was still sick on Monday and plan to see him on Tuesday. “What band is opening up?”

  Before he could answer, the main lobby door flew open and Donna came rushing through it. “We have to go.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Come on,” she said, pulling Kerri out of the chair. “Seth is here.”

  “Who the fuck is Seth?” Levi wanted to know.

  “Her boyfriend,” Donna said at the same time Kerri said, “My ex-boyfriend.”

  “How do you know it’s him?” Kerri asked. “You don’t even know what he looks like.”

  “Carlene spotted him. She goes to Northeast, remember.”

  Levi was on his feet now looking over Donna’s shoulder. “Fuck that. You don’t let anyone run you off.”

  “We were leaving anyway,” Donna said. She didn’t like Levi. Hooking her arm into Kerri’s, Donna started leading her across the patio. “What do you mean, ‘ex-boyfriend?’ You told me you guys had a fight and you just needed a girl’s night out.”

  “I’ll call you about tomorrow,” Kerri shouted to Levi, but he was more interested in picking Seth out of the crowd.

  “We’re sort of on a break,” Kerri lied and then shouted over her shoulder, “Don’t start anything with him, Levi. I mean it.” She waved at the boys. They looked at each other. One waved back; the other one hit him on the shoulder.

  “This way,” Donna said, directing her out the patio exit and around the back of the building.

  Did he know she was lying about being sick? Was he following her? Or, she thought feeling a pang of jealousy, was he here to meet someone. Everyone knew The Abyss was a meat market. “Does he know I’m here?”

  “No.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because there would be drama if he did. Jesus, Kerri, he looks out of it.”

  “Out of it how? Drunk?”

  “I don’t know. Yeah, kind of. But more like angry. Very angry and I don’t know…scary.” She stopped under a lighted porch in back and looked Kerri in the eye. “He hasn’t hit you, has he?”

  Obviously, she didn’t know Seth. However, that time with the website, he had grasped her arm so tightly that it left a little bruise. “Not exactly.”

  “Not exactly? What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Nevermind.”

  “Kerri, you have to stay away from these kinds of guys. They are dangerous. Come on,” she said, taking Kerri’s hand and leading her around to the front of the building where the valet was standing next to Donna’s car, looking impatient. “Give the valet your ticket. Carlene and Tiff are waiting for my call and then they will come out and get your car.”

  “How do you know he’s here looking for me?” she asked, careful to keep her voice neutral. “Maybe he is looking to hookup with someone.”

  “No, he was looking for you. I could tell.” Donna gave the valet a couple of neatly folded bills and got into the driver’s seat of her car, explaining that Kerri had had too much to drink and that a girl named Tiffany would be driving her car home.

  Kerri took her time coming around the car, looking toward the club’s open door, hoping to catch a glimpse of Seth.

  “Kerri!” Donna snapped, flinging open the passenger door. “What are you doing? Get in!” She did and as they pulled away, Donna called Carlene. “We’re out. The valet is bringing Kerri’s car around. If you can, try to keep Seth from following you out. He’ll recognize her car, I’m sure. Call me if there’s any trouble. Otherwise, we’ll see you at the Red Wolf.” She snapped her phone shut and let out a sigh. “He looked whacked, Kerri! It reminded me of the days when Rant used to follow us.”

  Rant. It was hard to believe that he was not around anymore. What was it like, Kerri wondered, to slice open your own wrists? Wouldn’t it be hard to cut the second one after the first one? Why didn’t he just sever the carotid artery in the neck and do the job in one quick slice? Maybe he wanted the ritual thing with the bathtub. She wondered too if he’d left a note. His family was keeping the whole thing pretty quiet and she was sure they blamed her whether she was in the note or not. Whatever. Richie Rant would have come to a bad end with or without making her acquaintance. When Donna stopped at the r
ed light, Kerri turned around to see if Tiff and Carlene were coming yet. They weren’t. “Tiff is hitting on Seth, isn’t she?”

  “How else would Tiff stall a man?” Donna said. “What do you care anyway? You told the freak with the tattooed head that he was your ex and you told me you two were on a break.” Donna shook her head and Kerri knew a lecture was coming. “I can’t deal with another Rant. That was horrible when he was stalking you—following us everywhere we went. We were always looking over our shoulder. If he wouldn’t have done himself in, it would have been you…or one of us for getting in the way.”

  The thought of Tiff flirting with Seth irritated Kerri. Would he remember he’d once seen a picture of her? She couldn’t think about it. At least, it wasn’t Donna back there flirting with him. She said dating guys that much older was gross, but if she were alone with him, Kerri knew there’d be a mutual attraction. They would recognize each other. They were from the same “love conquers all” world that believed things happen for a reason and there was always a good side to everything and everyone if you looked for it. They believed in equal partnerships and were proponents of the simple-minded “open and honest” policy.

  But if their metaphysical view of life were correct, the Donnas and the Seths of the world would be together instead of being the prized possessions of the Mitchs and the Kerris, realists smart enough to know that human nature was all about control. Mitch was a natural winner. He was a big shot at school and would be a big shot in the business world when he graduated. It was his nature to find and marry a good woman like Donna just as much as it was his nature to have a little something on the side, to have his cake and eat it too, to have control. There was no doubt that he loved Donna. His true happiness depended on keeping her. Lying was a necessary part of the equation. Otherwise, she’d be gone; he’d be heartbroken and so determined to get her back that he would be under her control. So he agreed to Donna’s impossible conditions with no intention whatsoever of upholding them and he kept control. This was all unspoken, of course, but Kerri understood it perfectly. Mitch knew she did. That’s why he hit on her every time Donna turned her back, and, at a party last summer, Kerri had fucked him in the back seat of this very car.