Screwmates(47)

“The only difference here is how I see you right now. I can’t do this. I…” But he didn’t finish. He just got up and walked out the door. A few minutes later, I heard a car pull up for him, and then that was it.

The weight of what I’d done fell on me like a sack of potatoes. The hottest, smartest, sweetest guy I’d ever met gave me multiple orgasms and I ruined it all—with comics. It was truly the most Madison thing to ever happen. I was the worst human in the entire world. Or at least on this block. And I couldn’t even pout properly, because I wasn’t the one who’d been wronged.

I was just the asshole.





Sixteen





Unlike the last time I’d cursed giving Ava a key, this time I was very happy, because it meant I didn’t have to leave bed to let the girls in.

“Is she… alive?” Scarlet whispered.

“Yeah, I think she just looks dead,” Ava answered.

“How long do you suppose it’s been since she washed her hair?” Lizzie asked.

“Surely not the month that it looks like,” Scarlet answered.

“If Charlotte ever pulls this kind of crap, I swear to god…” Lizzie trailed off.

“Does anyone know what actually happened, anyway?” Ava asked.

“Does anyone know that I can hear you?” I rolled over and glared up at them. It had only been two days since I’d washed my hair; there had just been a lot of product in it. It wasn’t so bad. I thought. I scratched it experimentally. Okay, maybe it was bad, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.

“It’s alive!” Lizzie cheered. “Get up and spill. We brought booze.”

I considered this for a moment. I did want a drink and a friendly ear. Or six of them, as the case may be.

“It’s not wine, is it?” I asked. That was one drink I’d be forced to swear off forever. Only beer would wash my freedom fries down now and forever.

“No, we made the mistake of checking out the vodka.” Ava held up a clanking bag.

“What have you done?” I was astonished at the number of bottles residing in there.

“Look, there are a lot of interesting flavors. We just thought it wouldn’t be right if we bought salted watermelon and you were in more of a salted caramel mood.” Scarlet had a point, although I noted the bag contained Birthday Cake, Cucumber, and Orange Dreamsicle as well.

“Can we drink in the living room, though? Your room smells like despair and unwashed hair, my friend.” Ava was always honest. And in this case, correct.

“No. I can never face Marc again.”

“Oh, didn’t he tell you? He’s staying with his mom until he goes to France. Have you been hiding in here this whole time?” The girls exchanged concerned looks.

“Well, obviously! Gosh, he’s really with his mom? He must truly hate me to go stay with her.” I tossed back the covers and stood up.

“Why would you say that? Do they not get along?” Lizzie asked.

“They do, she just prefers his brother and makes no secret of it. He’s bitter.” I jammed my feet into my favorite Hulk foot slippers and put the offending hair into a messy bun.

“Hah! That old song and dance?” Ava looked surprised. “Aunt Dee Dee is like, obsessed with Marc. She just feels sorry for Paul because he’s such a derp. She hoped if she gave him extra attention he wouldn’t grow up with an inferiority complex and become a criminal.”

We looked at each other.

“That didn’t work out so well, did it?” I asked.

“You know what they say about the road to hell,” Ava replied. “Sheesh, I really thought if anyone could talk some sense into him about his mother, it’d be you. It’s so obvious from the outside.” It was not obvious from the outside. But then again, I wasn’t exactly the poster child for intuition these days.

We proceeded to the kitchen, where I mixed myself a reasonably weak cucumber vodka Bloody Mary.

“I’m not sitting on that couch,” I said.

Scarlet sprang off it like it was hot. “Sweet Jesus!” she yelped.

“We didn’t bang on it!” I said. “It just reminds me too much of him.”

“I think it’s time to explain yourself,” said Lizzie, carrying my drink to the kitchen table. I considered protesting, because we’d once shared a lovely candlelit dinner here, but they were going to draw the line somewhere and honestly that left us about nowhere else to go but his bedroom, and that for sure wasn’t happening. I sat down heavily.

“Well, firstly, I have a confession to make. One that I should have made a long time ago. And I’m sorry in advance for not letting you in on this earlier, I was just scared and weird, and you guys know me, and—”

“Spit it out already,” Lizzie ordered.

“I started the sitcomic. And I called it Screwmates, just like we talked about that day. And, well, it kind of took off.” I hung my head and waited for more punishment to fall upon me.

“Oh, we knew that.” Ava sounded disappointed.

“I thought this was going to be juicy, too. Refill?” Lizzie asked Scarlet, who shook her head. She must have been on another sobriety kick. Scarlet had issues. Drinks weren’t actually one of them. But that wasn’t the revelation here. They knew? They’d known all along?