by Ayers, Ava
“You gave a stranger a blow job and you do so know what the fuck I am talking about! I was there! And it must have been a really bad blow job because two weeks later, they still turned off our electricity!”
My mother looked down in her lap and sighed. She pushed her chair away from the table and stood as she looked at Yolanda and smiled.
“It was very nice meeting you,” my mother said.
“Um,” Yolanda said as she looked at me.
My mother turned from the table and walked out the door. I looked at Rebel Love and shook my head.
“I’m sorry,” I said as Rebel Love stood.
“It’s okay,” she said and ran after our mother.
Me, Ivory-Lou and Yolanda sat at the table and stared at our plates.
“You white people sure do get hella crazy during mealtimes,” Yolanda said as she stood up and walked away from the table.
I looked at Ivory-Lou and he stared at me.
“Sorry,” I said as I pushed a pea that bounced out of my plate around the table.
“You stood up for yourself,” he said and grabbed his knife and fork. “Good.”
“See, I was right, wasn’t I?”
“Didn’t say that, just said you stood up for yourself and standing up for yourself is good. Don’t read into it,” he said as he cut into his turkey. “Did she really blow a guy so he didn’t cut off your electric?”
“Well don’t say it like that,” I said and shook my head. “It wasn’t a noble deed.”
“Yeah, you’re right, damn,” he said and shook his head. “So, Billy...”
I looked at him and winced.
“Yeah, Billy. Um, Stephanie said the chick, his new, whatever, was there and...”
“Not hurt,” he said as he spooned some mashed potatoes into his plate. “Seems whoever did it only wanted to make sure there were no witnesses.”
“And there weren’t...witnesses?”
“Not a one,” he said as he poured gravy over his food.
“Thank you,” I said and stood from the table.
“For what? I didn’t do anything.”
“Okay, um, I’m going to unpack or lay down or something.”
I grabbed my things out of the living room and walked toward my bedroom.
“Hey, Beth?” Ivory-Lou said.
“Yeah?” I said and turned around.
“You’re welcome,” he said and smiled.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A few nights later I was staring at Nicolas’ Facebook page as I sent him psychic demands to email me when a post popped up on his page that sent me over the edge. Again.
“India!” I said when she picked up her phone. “Nicolas...Facebook! Now!”
“Oh my God!” she said after she loaded his page. “Your the bees knees? Who the hell even says that anymore?”
“Well, apparently Portia Heim-Delmonico does. And she doesn’t know how to spell!”
“No! I know her!”
“You know Portia Heim-Delmonico? Oh my God, you do! You’re our mutual friend. Go to her page, now!”
“I’m on it,” she said.
“Is it open? What does she look like? Is she prettier than me?” I said.
“God, no, Beth. She has a face like a can of smashed assholes!”
“Oh, that sounds bad,” I said as I stared at her post on Nicolas’ page. “I’m sick over this, India.”
“He also liked the picture of her in Bermuda with her friends. She’s in a bikini,” India said.
“No!”
“Yeah, Beth, he did.”
“Does she still look like an asshole can? What did you call her?”
“Yeah, except in this picture she has a face like two cans of smashed assholes. You cannot let him do this to you anymore, Beth. It is humiliating and it’s fucking with your psyche. You must end it now.”
“But, how? An email?”
“Yes. Go to your messages and I’ll tell you what to type,” India said.
“Okay, I’m there. What do I do?”
“Type in: Nicolas, I am done with this insignificant, superficial correspondence. You apparently have loads of other girls to fuck with and even like girls whose faces look like cans of smashed assholes, so you should play your games with them. I am in pain. Goodbye. Type that all, Beth and hit send.”
I did as India instructed and stared at it with my cursor poised over the send button.
“Should I, really?” I said. “I don’t feel good about this.”
“You are stalling. You’ve been crying over this guy for weeks while he’s trolling Facebook liking other girls’ bikini shots. You need a partner who emotionally supports you and your path, not admires other girls. It’s not fair, Beth. Do it!”
And I did.
I felt sick as I looked at that message and even sicker when I saw that instead of “girls whose faces look like cans of smashed assholes,” I typed, “girls whose faces look like smashed asshole cans.”
And thirty minutes later, as I was still talking to India, Nicolas Miles called me.
“It’s him! What do I do?” I said as I stared at his number.
“Answer it,” she said.
“No, voicemail. I cannot talk to him. It’s too embarrassing.”
“You just told him off via email, he’s obviously read it, answer it and see what he has to say.”
“No, I will not. I told him he likes girls whose faces look like smashed asshole cans. I can’t talk to him. Probably, ever. I’m going to go listen to the song, India.”
“Wait, I have something that may cheer you up. Do you want to hear it?”
“That would probably be really good right now.”
“Well, I was talking with Declan and he asked about you. Like asked, asked, Beth.”
“What?” I said and sat up. “What did he ask?”
“Everything. I suggested you to him as a friend and told him to request you. He goes under Nalced Etihw.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It’s his name backwards,” she said and laughed. “Keeps the groupie stalkers at bay.”
“Why do you think he asked about me?” I said.
“Why do you think, Beth?”
“No!”
“Yes!”
“India, no.”
“Beth, yes! Jesus, don’t be a spazz.”
“I am a spazz, India. It’s my role. Wow, Nalced Etihw asked about me,” I said.
“Yep, guess you impressed him. He never asks about anyone,” she said and sighed, “they only ever ask about him.”
“India, is this weird, I mean, talking like this about him with you? He is your stepfather.”
“Was my stepfather. That was many years ago. And weird, what's that? I have a brother named Kimmy Dickless and you have a sister named Matthew. We are bonded by weird, Beth.”
“Yeah. Wow, what a life.”
“Truer words never said, my friend.”
After we hung up, I went back to Facebook and saw I had a message from Nicolas. I couldn’t even look at it so I messaged eleven of my friends and waited for their responses so his message would be out of my view. I then saw the friend request from Declan and screamed.
I wrote to him as soon as I accepted and told him it was nice to meet him and he sent me a message back immediately stating the same. We messaged each other back and forth for about an hour. In between, I stalked his page. Another one who was friends with every beautiful girl on the planet. His relationship status: Single. He told me he was headed to Chicago, but did not ask me about attending any shows.
India posted a picture of me on the beach at Ditch Plains and he commented, You are hot! and I nearly passed out.
Stephanie called me almost immediately and screamed into the phone.
“Is that the Declan White that just said you’re hot?” she said.
“Yep,” I said and smiled, “he’s a friend.”
“Why does he go by Nacled Et...whatever?”
“It’s
his name backwards. Keeps the stalkers away,” I said and giggled.
“Holy shit, did he ever make a mistake friending you.”
“Steph, he keeps writing to me. We’ve been writing back and forth for about an hour. I’m freaking.”
“You should be! It’s Declan White, Beth! Did you ever in your wildest dreams think this would happen?”
“Never, Stephanie.”
“I’m gonna comment on that picture India posted. Maybe he’ll friend me too?” she said.
“I don’t know, do it. He just sent me another message,” I said as I scanned it. “Steph, I think he thinks I’m a little kid. I feel like he’s fucking with me or something.”
“Why? What’s he saying?”
“I don’t know, it’s too complimentary,” I said.
“Just take it slow, Beth. Do not mess this up! Wow, Declan White. What about Nicolas?”
“I think I broke up with him tonight. I sent him a pretty bad email. It’s embarrassing.”
“What did you say?”
“Oh, something to the effect of I was tired of the superficial correspondence and he should probably go fuck some other girl since he likes girls who have faces that look like cans of smashed assholes, except, I said smashed asshole cans. India told me what to write.”
“You did not write that!”
“Yes,” I said and sighed, “yes, I did.”
“Smashed asshole cans?”
“Yup, though it’s supposed to be cans of smashed assholes,” I said.
“Ah, I see the difference. Very...descriptive. Pretty harsh.”
“I know. I regret it. He called me, but I just can’t deal. Steph, Declan wrote about the girls on the road and how they get boring. He told me that he thinks he’s ruined for any kind of normal relationship. Then he said that I seem normal. Does that mean normal is a bad thing or a good thing to him?”
“Hmm...I’m not sure.”
“See, it’s confusing. Why can’t people just say what they mean?”
“Maybe it doesn’t mean anything, Beth. Maybe you shouldn’t analyze everything to death.”
“I feel like he’s losing interest in the conversation. I need to think of something witty and sincere to say. Give me a witty and sincere line.”
“That is the most insincere thing I’ve ever heard, Beth.”
“I’m desperate, Steph.”
“It shows, Beth. I have to go, Robert is coming over.”
“Who’s Robert?” I said.
“Goes to WVU. I met him when you were in New York.”
“Where?”
“I do not want to tell you,” she said.
“Well, now you have to.”
“Okay, um, I met him on OkCupid. Do not judge me.”
“Is that the hookup site? Like just for sex?” I said.
“No, I think you’re thinking of Plenty of Fish or Ashley Madison. This is like Match, but free.”
“Huh, OkCupid. Um, I’m not judging. What’s he like?”
“Can’t say. I’m meeting him tonight for the first time. I need sex, Beth. It’s been like two months.”
“Yeah. I wonder if that’s what Declan is looking for?” I said.
“Do you really think that Declan White has to hit on his former stepdaughter’s friends because he can’t find sex? And, by the way, Beth, who cares? It’s Declan White! Jesus, the bragging rights you’d get for just nailing him once are priceless!”
“That’s true.”
“It is true. So just go for it. It’s an experience, Beth. Didn’t you say you need exciting experiences?”
“Actually, I said I need to reinvent myself, but exciting experiences would be good too.”
“Then go for it, Beth. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
I stared at Declan’s last message and tapped my fingers on the keyboard as I tried to think of something witty and sincere to say to keep him engaged. I then did something that I never thought I’d do and broke my promise to Ivory-Lou.
As I said, there is a point in every interaction that sets the relationship’s course...do you hide or do you shine? With Nicolas, I hid. With Declan, I chose to shine. And I pasted the link to my sex video into the message. I typed nothing else, just pasted the link. I covered my eyes and waited.
Exactly thirty-two minutes later he wrote back and asked me for my phone number.
Five minutes later he called me.
“Wow,” he said and chuckled, “I don’t know what to say.”
“Um, is that good or--”
“Yes! Definitely good. Most definitely good. I’m just surprised. But in a good way.”
“Good,” I said and laughed. “So, this is kind of strange...talking, huh?”
“Why, do you not like the phone? I’m on this thing all the time. So, is the guy in the video the dude from Bali?”
“No, that’s someone different. Um, another boyfriend.”
“Current?” he said.
“Oh, no, he’s an ex,” I said.
“Because of the video?”
“No, um, I didn’t know about the video to be honest. It’s kind of weird.”
“Not really. Remember what I do. The sex video is quite common in my profession.”
“Do you have one?” I said and opened a new tab.
“I may, but I may not.”
“That’s not fair. I showed you mine!”
“You will be showing me a lot more than a video, I hope. Maybe we’ll make one together. What’s your address?” he said.
“My...why?”
“I’m sending you something. What day is today?”
“It’s Monday,” I said and looked at the clock, “no, Tuesday. It’s after midnight. Way after.”
“Yes, it’s late. So, are you going to give me your address? I promise I’m not a stalker.”
I gave Declan my address and hoped that he was a stalker.
“Okay, Beth, I need to get to bed and in that bed, I will be thinking of you.”
“Me too,” I said and smiled.
“Promise?” he said.
“Absolutely.”
“Good, we shall think of each other in our respective beds and then tomorrow, I want you to tell me what you did, okay? So, expect an envelope on Wednesday. I will talk to you tomorrow, Beth. Goodnight.”
At one o’clock on Wednesday afternoon as I was scanning dating blogs looking for tips on how to be an irresistible goddess, the doorbell rang.
“That’s the envelope!” I said and flew out of my room.
I ran down the hallway and skidded on my socks across the wood floor.
“That’s for me! That’s for me!” I said and I slipped in the living room, bounced off the wall and hit the floor.
“Beth?” Rebel Love said as she knelt at Gemini’s feet pinning the hem of her dress.
“That’s for me!” I said as the doorbell continued to ring and I got off the floor. “I’m coming! Hold on!”
Ivory-Lou ran down the other hall from his office holding his gun.
“Do not answer that door!” he said.
“Baby!” Rebel Love said and stood up. “What is going on?”
“It’s for me!” I said and ran into the foyer.
“Beth, do not answer that fucking door!” Ivory-Lou said and ran after me.
“Just leave it at the door!” I said as I looked through the peephole.
“I can’t, ma’am,” the guy on the other side of the door said. “Someone has to sign for it.”
“Beth if you open that door you are in big trouble,” Ivory-Lou said.
“Why? It’s for me. Declan sent something,” I said and shook my head and pressed my mouth against the door. “Hold on, sir! Don’t leave!”
“Who the hell is at the door?” Rebel Love said as she walked into the foyer.
“It’s a goddamn process server,” Ivory-Lou said and pointed his gun at the door. “Saw him on the video camera.”
“Jesus Christ, Ivory-Lou,” I said and unlocked the door, “
he’s not a process server, he’s a messenger. He’s wearing a uniform! Declan told me he was sending something today. I’m opening the door and I hope you don’t shoot the guy.”
I opened the door and signed for the envelope and jumped up and down in the living room.
“He sent it!” I said. “He said he was going to send it and he did!”
“What did he send?” Gemini said.
“I have no idea, I have to open it,” I said.
“You are sick,” Ivory-Lou said and sighed as he dropped the clip out of the gun and put it in his robe. “Baby, get me a beer, please?”
Rebel Love went to the kitchen and Ivory-Lou and I sat at the granite bar.
“Can I have one too, please?” I said.
“I think we all need one,” Rebel Love said. “Gemini?”
“Uh, sure,” she said and came into the kitchen.
“This is kind of like The Golden Girls,” I said as I looked at them, “except they all sit around in their kitchen eating cheesecake and we’re drinking beer. Oh, and Ivory-Lou isn’t an old white woman.”
“Just open the goddamn envelope before I have your crazy ass Baker Acted,” Ivory-Lou said.
We drank our beers and they stared at me as I opened the envelope. I stared at the paper for a minute and shook my head.
“Well?” Rebel Love said.
I looked at her, opened my mouth and screamed as loud and long as I could.
“Goddammit, stop that screaming!” Ivory-Lou said and covered his ears.
“It’s a ticket!” I said. “A plane ticket on Delta to Chicago!”
“No! Let me see,” Rebel Love said as she grabbed it and stared at the ticket.
She looked at me, opened her mouth and screamed as loud and long as she could.
“Holy shit!” Ivory-Lou said. “Have you bitches lost your goddamn minds?”
“It’s a ticket to Chicago, baby,” Rebel Love said and handed it to me.
“Who’s it from?” Gemini said.
“Declan White. He’s in this band called Luckless. He is perfect, Gemini! Hot as hell and so sexy,” I said.
“Very sexy,” Rebel Love said and nodded.
Ivory-Lou looked at Rebel Love and raised his eyebrows.
“Anyway,” I said, “they’re really popular. He’s from Ireland and has the sexiest accent with this deep, kinda raspy, husky voice. Oh, man, he’s so hot.”