"Would that make you feel better?" she asked, smiling.
"Yes."
"Good," Faye chirped. "You can imagine his face on it if you want." She paused. "Or his dick. Whatever works."
Surprised again by her coy malice, I laughed and wiped my nose again. "Okay."
Faye squeezed my waist again before getting up.
"What should we smash it with?" she said. "I have a hammer, but we could also use a stiletto, or a brick, or…"
"Drive over it with my car," I said. I had bought my car with money I'd earned from Dr. Turner, and Faye knew that.
"Perfect!" she cheered.
I loved this side of Faye. It was unexpected and surprisingly sexy.
She got up and put on her shoes, beckoning me out the door.
I tucked the memory chip into my wallet and borrowed a pair of flip flops before running down the stairs behind her, keys jangling in my hand.
Once we were out on the sidewalk, she held the camera up towards me in both hands, as though presenting a sacrifice.
Unsure what I wanted my first move to be, I hesitantly reached for it, pausing halfway before seizing it and hurling it down the sidewalk, listening to the satisfying way it skidded on the pavement.
And because it was the only way I knew to release all my anger, I yelled after it, "Fuck you, Turner!" at the top of my lungs.
Faye laughed and held her hands up to her mouth, glancing at the windows above us to see if we'd disturbed anyone. But she must have decided she didn't care, because she ran after the camera and retrieved it, holding it up to me again. I hurled it again, growling as I watched it bounce and a corner shatter off. Faye retrieved it for me to throw a few more times, until it was dented and warped beyond repair. Then I placed it under my front left tire, unlocking the doors and getting in. I rolled down the passenger window and said, "Get in!" I wanted Faye to be with me when I gave the camera its final blow.
Faye hopped in the passenger seat and grabbed my hand, holding it over the gear shift. I started the car and together we put the car in gear before I let it roll forward, listening to the satisfying pops and crunches coming from the tire closest to me.
"Woohoo!" Faye whooped, clutching at my hand when I backed over the camera for good measure.
Then I put the car in park and turned it off, feeling myself come down from my angry, vindictive high. Though I couldn't erase what Dr. Turner had done, I felt much better than when I'd left his house.
I looked at Faye and was suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude. She was such a good friend, even if we were still getting to know each other. She held my gaze, her smile turning gentle and innocent again, and I realized with a jolt that I was attracted to her.
Fuck.
Why hadn't I realized it before? I knew she had nice tits and a beautiful face and that her mind was one of the best parts about her, but I hadn't put all the pieces together until now.
I felt dread creeping up on me again.
Maybe I was unsettled because it was a strange time to realize I was interested in Faye as more than a friend. But as we sat there, suspended in our post-destruction haze, I realized I was unsettled because I knew Faye was off-limits. Not only was she straight, she had a boyfriend she'd been with for five years, who, regardless of her uncertainly, adored her to no end.
With both of my jobs, I had learned how important boundaries were. Customers stayed behind glass, fingers stayed on the outer vulva, and girls who were taken were off-limits no matter how beautiful they were. I knew I had to enforce rigid boundaries with myself around Faye now. I was already so drained, the task seemed impossible.
After what felt like an hour of staring into her dark, shiny eyes, she said quietly, "Our pizza will be here soon. Are you feeling better?"
Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded and tore my gaze away. I pulled my keys out of the ignition and followed her back into her house. Needing something to do, I picked up Schrodinger and snuggled him into my lap, talking to him with the same baby-talk voice Faye used with him. I was relieved when the pizza came and I had something else to focus on.
We chewed quietly, and she asked if I had to work the next day. Heavy with the reminder that I would once again be on display for people who might take advantage of me, I nodded and let my shoulders droop to convey my dread.
Faye scrunched her nose in sympathy. "Could you take a few days off?"
I shrugged. "I could. I'm about due for a vacation. But I don't think I should. At least not until I figure out what to do with my car."
Faye nodded and gave me a gentle pout before taking another bite of her pizza. We chewed quietly and I felt the pressure of my work creeping up on me. I didn't want to go home and let it take over.
As though she could read my thoughts, Faye said, "You're welcome to stay here if you want."
Since I had already made myself at home in Faye's bed, my impulse was to accept her offer. But now that I knew I was attracted to her, I couldn't stay the night. Boundaries kept me safe at work, and adhering to them in my personal life was bound to keep me safe too.
So even though it pained me to do so, I declined, giving Faye a brief, low-contact hug as I left. As I trudged down the stairs to my car, I was overwhelmed with exhaustion and the fear that I would never get a break from the blows of the world.
Chapter 11: Hey, Jealousy
Our little apartment was bursting with people and food and music. I was a tiny bit jealous that Justine had so many cool friends, but she thought I was the coolest. That was a good feeling.
Faye was anxious when she got there. I walked her into the kitchen where Justine's friend was mixing drinks. Faye took a cocktail and raised it gratefully to her lips. She took a big sip, lifting her eyebrows to give me a smile. But the anxiety was still there.
She looked around, not sure where to start. She didn't know anyone, aside from me and Justine.
"Want me to introduce you to people?"
She gave a grateful nod and let me lead her back into the living room where Justine's friends Caitlyn, Patrick, and a young man I didn't know were seated, eyes on Caitlyn's phone.
"Hey guys, this is... Faye," I said slowly to catch myself as I decided if I just wanted to use her name, or was going to play up the platonic act by including "my friend" before it. But I didn't want to do that because she wasn't just a friend to me.
"What's up," Patrick said, adjusting the brim of his hat as he smiled up at us. "Caitlyn's showing us pictures from her trip to Panama," he said, gesturing to the phone. Then he fixed his eyes back on the device in Caitlyn's hand and Faye and I were left awkwardly leaning over them.
Then the guy to Caitlyn's right looked up and noticed our awkward position and stood. "Here, have my seat," he offered, gesturing to where he had just been sitting. He wasn't someone I recognized, but his smile was bright and he seemed to belong amongst Justine's friends. He was wearing a nice pressed shirt and blue jeans.
I gestured to let Faye sit, eager to see her comfortable among the strangers in my house. She sat down, adjusting her skirt around her knees as she fixed her attention on Caitlyn's phone.
"You're Justine's roommate?" the guy asked, focused on me.
I smiled and nodded.
He extended his hand to me. "I'm Vance," he said. "I'm new."
I assumed he was referring to the nonprofit Justine and most of her friends worked for. "Riley," I said.
“So how long have you lived here?"
“Three years.”
Vance went on asking me questions, never breaking eye contact as he tucked his hands in his pockets or folded his arms across his chest. His facial expressions were animated and fun to watch. I felt like I was wildly entertaining while I was talking to him. After about ten minutes of polite conversation, he offered to refill my drink. I accepted and handed him my cup, and he turned and headed for the kitchen.
Faye lurched off the couch, not making eye contact as she brushed against my shoulder and hissed, "Tell Justine happy birthday
for me." She stalked toward the door, not speaking to anyone as she did. She grabbed her jacket and purse and left as I excused myself, frantically looking for my keys. It took me a few moments to find them, and by the time I got outside, Faye was already two blocks ahead of me.
"Faye, wait!" I called after her.
She looked over her shoulder but didn't slow down, almost getting plowed over by a taxi as she stepped off the curb.
"Watch where you're going, asshole!" she barked at him.
"Faye!" I called again, running after her.
She slowed but didn't turn back as she walked the remaining three blocks to her house. I finally caught up to her at her gate. I followed her up her stairs and into her apartment, bewildered by her sudden, inexplicable anger.
"What the hell?" I asked, catching my breath. "What was that about?"
"You tell me," she said, turning on me.
"We were talking to people and then you freaked out."
"Talking to people? No Riley, you were talking to that douche bag. It was embarrassing to watch. I have to warn you, jealousy isn't a game I play."
"What?" I asked.
"Don't play dumb."
"I- I'm not..." I stuttered.
There was a moment of tense silence as I tried to understand why Faye was angry.
Then I realized I had been having a friendly conversation with Vance, and Faye had interpreted it as me flirting to make her jealous. My first impulse was to apologize and explain to Faye that she had it all wrong. But then I caught myself. Hadn't she just turned me down for a date a few hours ago? She had no right to be upset at me until she claimed me as hers. Angry at her explosion of possessiveness, I fought back.
"If you're going to be so freaked out that I was talking to someone, then maybe you should grow a pair and date me," I said, crossing my arms across my chest in challenge.
Faye scowled at me. "This isn't about me wanting to date you," she spat.
I let out an exasperated sigh, letting my hands flop to my sides. "Then what is it about? Because if you're gonna freak out because I was talking to a cute guy — not even flirting, just talking — then maybe—"
"So you did think he was cute," Faye said, a smug, angry expression on her face.
I was getting more exasperated. "I find lots of people attractive. Doesn't mean I'm hopping into bed with them. That's not my style, unlike you."
As soon as I said it, I knew I had lost. Faye was going to explode.
Preempting her explosion, I put my hand to my mouth. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."
Faye folded her arms across her chest and gave me a cool look. "You can talk to whoever you want, Riley." It sounded threatening.
I took a step toward her, wanting to repair the damage I'd done. "I'm sorry," I mumbled. "Can we just talk?"
Faye's eyes narrowed in warning and she remained rigid, arms folded under her breasts. She swallowed and said in a low, emotionless voice. "You should go back to the party. I have work to do."
I dropped my arms and looked at the floor. "I'm sorry I got angry."
"Me too," Faye said.
But she wasn't apologizing. She was chastising me for having feelings and speaking up for what I wanted. Seeing her in such a cold mood made it easier to walk out the door.
I stopped on the threshold, hoping I hadn't done irreparable damage. "Text me before you go to sleep?" I asked. She always texted me goodnight when I was at work, and it made me smile to see her name on my phone at the end of my shift.
"If you like," she said.
She was still being icy, and that ice slid onto me, weighing me down as I said goodnight and walked back down the stairs.
I really hoped I hadn't messed things up for good.
I arrived at Faye's in the morning, freshly showered and dizzy with excitement to see her. She opened the door and I slid right into her arms, kissing her through my smile as she wrapped her arms around my waist. She hummed into me and I kissed her with nothing held back.
But soon it got to be too much. Wanting to keep being close to her without entering into perilous sexual territory, I put my head on her shoulder, breathing in the smell of her hair and skin.
"Good morning," I mumbled.
"It is now," she replied.
I held her for a few moments before I pulled away, already hazy from just a few moments on her lips. "What's on the agenda today?"
Faye grinned and interlocked her fingers behind my back, pressing her body into mine. "Are you up for an adventure?"
"Sure."
"It's a daylong trip. Do you have plans later?"
"Kissing you."
She stumbled in her smooth flirtation and giggled. "Good."
I leaned forward and kissed her again.
"Where are we going?"
"I was thinking," she said, pausing to sweep my hair over my shoulder and run her hand up my back, "that we could drive down the coast to San Simeon."
"Sounds good," I said, still distracted by the wonderful smell of her skin and hair and the way her body vibrated subtly when she spoke. I started kissing her neck again.
"Okay," she said, sounding like a happy sigh as she tilted her head to give me more room to kiss her neck. "Have you—" her breath hitched, "Have you eaten?"
Realizing I was nearing the line of teasing again, I backed off and stood up straight. "I had a bagel."
"Do you need coffee or anything?"
"Nope."
"It's a long drive."
"Hope you don't get sick of me."
She leaned forward to nuzzle my nose before placing a soft kiss on my lips. "I won't." Then she patted my ass and broke away. "I'm gonna grab a coat and some snacks."
She walked into the kitchen and brought out tin of almonds and a bag of chips for the car ride, then took a coat out of the closet. We walked down the stairs to her car and she opened the passenger side for me. I slid in and she carefully shut me inside.
She got into her seat and started the engine.
"Do you like car games?" she asked when we had reached the stop sign at the end of her street.
"Who doesn't like car games?" I responded.
"What do you want to play?"
I wracked my brain for something to play. My friends in college had a game we always played, but it mostly consisted of discussing our sexual histories and fantasies, and I wasn't going to go near that powder keg with Faye. We finally understood how we worked together without having sex, and I didn't want to put information out about my past that might add to her frustration. Like how I'd slept with Maggie after two weeks and Vance after three dates, but Faye and I had been dating for six weeks and hadn't even seen each other topless. Which, honestly, I would have loved. Faye had amazing boobs. I'd felt them through her shirt on several occasions. They were the perfect size for my hands, warm and supple, and when I touched them, Faye went all soft and made the sexiest breathy noises. But I felt like if I removed one article of clothing, I'd have to follow through with the rest.
Wanting to think of a good car game to play, I thought back to the night before and how much I'd adored learning more about her past. It had started when I asked her to tell me something I didn't know about her. I decided to try that again.
"Tell me something I don't know about you yet," I said. "Something about... breakfast," I said, thinking of the first thing that came to mind.
She smiled. "I love breakfast," she said. "I especially like to make pancakes and waffles with lots of toppings. I'll do it even if it's just me. I've mastered pancakes for one."
"What about pancakes for two?"
"I haven’t made those for a while."
"I like pancakes," I said.
Faye put her hand on my knee and lifted one eyebrow. "You should let me make you some," she said. It was rife with implication. Or at least I heard it that way until she said, "I can make pancakes for lunch or dinner or midnight snack. Just tell me when you're in the mood." A beat passed before she added, "For pancakes."
&nbs
p; I gave her a thankful smile and nodded in agreement.
Going back to our little game of talking about silly things to diffuse sexual energy, she said, "Tell me your earliest childhood memory of pancakes."
My earliest childhood memory of pancakes didn't hold any of the joy I usually associated with pancakes. It was probably the saddest pancake story she'd ever heard.
"When I was nine my parents got divorced and on the first morning I woke up in my dad's new apartment, he made pancakes for me and Kimi. I couldn't eat any because I was so anxious my tummy hurt."
Faye's face shifted from playful to solemn and she bit her lip. She glanced at me with sad eyes before focusing back on the road. We approached a stoplight and she slid to a smooth stop.
I kept talking. "Mine had chocolate chips inside and Kimi's had blueberries inside. My dad burned a few so the whole apartment smelled like smoke. "
Faye studied my face for a minute before she slid her hand into mine. She didn't say anything, but that gentle handhold was better than anything she could have said. I couldn't make eye contact, but I felt safe enough to tell her more.
My parents, Steve and Regina, separated when I was nine. There were no fights or affairs or big secrets that blasted our family apart. It simply broke one day, like a baked good crumbling in my nine-year-old hands.
I don't remember how they told me they were separating. I just remember the first night in my dad's new apartment, sitting on the edge of a new bed with my baby blanket pressed hard into the hollow of my stomach trying not to let my dad hear me cry. If he knew how sad I was, he would have been devastated. I never wanted him to feel bad because of me. So I let my blanket absorb the hurt, hoping its tattered predictability wouldn't crumble too.
I don't think divorce is a bad thing. But my parents' divorce was the most upsetting thing that happened in the first eighteen years of my life. Nowadays my parents were happy with their new spouses and friendly enough to spend holidays and birthdays together with me and Kimi. The most upsetting thing about their divorce was I hadn't seen it coming.
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