You've Got Fail(24)

“I do.” A woman stepped up, her black party dress exploding into a burst of sequined bows along the skirt.

“All right.” Scarlet held her hands out. “What’s your name?”

“Gary.”

I canted my head to the side. “Come again?” Somehow, I’d entered the naming convention twilight zone.

“Gary.” She shrugged. “My parents wanted to beat stereotypical gender roles.”

“That’s a perfectly fine name.” Scarlet elbowed me and said, “So what can I do for you, Gary?”

Even more people nearby hushed, and all eyes turned toward the circle with the movie star, the blogger, the shark-mouthed man, and the imposter.

“First, I love your blog.” Gary smiled, the gap between her front teeth stylish or hickish, depending on what school of thought you were.

“Thanks.”

Fresh-faced and bursting with youth, Gary seemed no older than twenty. That boded well for a softball question. Her experience had to be limited, based on her age. Scarlet could wing it. I didn’t relax, but I wasn’t all the way to high alert. This could work.

Jina pulled her phone out and began rapidly typing, looking up occasionally.

“Second, my question is this: I’ve been with this guy for six months. He’s great, thoughtful, good looking, and smart.”

I took a breath and waited for the “but.” Any sort of positive declaration like that was inevitably followed by a “but”. Gary shifted from one heeled foot to the other, then pinned Scarlet with a direct look. That’s when I noticed it. Gary had the crazy eyes. A little too wide open, definitely glassy, and the irises fully visible. I knew those eyes. I’d dated a girl in college with them. That ended with her standing on my table in the cafeteria in her underwear while threatening to burn down my dorm. Her maniacal giggle still echoed through my mind in nightmares.

A refrain of “fuck” played on repeat in my mind as Gary stared at Scarlet with those wide-open baby doll eyes. And not the cute baby dolls. I’m talking the ones from horror movies. The ones with knives, a pack of matches, and a desperate need for vengeance. Fuuuuuuuuuuuck.

“All right.” Scarlet said with an encouraging note. She didn’t sense the danger. “So, what’s the problem?”

Gary blinked. “His ex-girlfriend.”

I edged closer to Scarlet, but she was focused on Gary. This train was heading off the cliff, and all I could do was hold on.

“What about her?”

“She lives in California now. But I feel like they’re still connected. Like she’s communicating with him, you know?”

A few girls behind Jina shook their heads in disapproval.

Scarlet frowned in a comforting way. “He still talks to her?”

Gary shook her head. “No.”

“So, do they text or something?”

“No.”

Scarlet shot me a look. My hands were tied, and not in the fun “let’s experiment with BDSM” sort of way.

“Then why do you think they’re still connected?”

The creepy baby doll eyes widened, the crazy in full effect. Oh fuck, here it comes.

Gary twisted her fingers together. “Have you ever, you know, gone down on a guy but when you stop sucking and just stare at it, you hear something?”

Jina stopped typing and peered over her phone at Gary.

Scarlet slowly tucked her hair behind her ears. Buying time. It wouldn’t help. I had no answer for the crazy Gary was slinging. Scarlet had to keep going. Like any unpleasant situation, the only way out was through.

“Okay, so.” Scarlet folded her hands in front of her. “What do you mean by ‘something’? What do you hear?”

Gary pinched her lips to one side, then said, “Like a voice.”

“A voice?” Jason turned to me, his eyes dancing with laughter. “Did she just say she heard a voice out of her boyfriend’s dickhole?”

“Shh.” Scarlet held up her hand in Jason’s face.

“Yes, ma’am.” He stowed his laughter but still gave me an incredulous look.

I didn’t laugh, though I would’ve liked to hurl. Scarlet had to appear sympathetic, but also put Gary’s worries about talking dicks to rest. A tightrope walk with an audience. And my blog’s reputation rested solely on her ability to keep her balance.

“Gary, whose voice do you hear?”

Gary stepped closer and dropped her tone. “Hers. It’s hers. I think maybe she’s staking her claim on him through his penis. Does that ever happen?”

Gary’s special brand of crazy went through the crowd like a shockwave. All chatter within earshot of Gary stopped, and dozens of sets of eyes turned to her. Unmitigated disaster.

Scarlet took a deep breath and put her hands on Gary’s shoulders. “I once read a long time ago that certain cultures could cast a spell to haunt a body part. Did his ex-girlfriend happen to come from a wealthy family?”

“Yes.” Gary’s eyes widened. “How did you know that?”

“Trust me. Something like what you’re describing would cost a good deal of money to accomplish. She’d have to meet with a practitioner of that particular art, and that’s not cheap.”

I cringed inwardly. This was not going well. Not at all. The proper advice was to tell her to speak to her therapist, because that was some batshit nuttiness. Scarlet was encouraging the delusion, and there was nothing I could do to stop her. The sweat mustache was back and joined by its brothers in discomfort, the sweaty palms.