Chapter 7 #2
She smiles, but there’s traces of worry in her eyes. Shadows of real fear. The kind you can only experience when you’ve been dragged into the depths of the blackest parts of this world and learned to find the light. “You’re okay though, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I agree with a soft smile, my own demons rising from the small cage I keep under lock and key somewhere between my heart and stomach.
Her lip is going to start bleeding if she keeps gnawing on it the way she is. I take a deep breath and shake my head, answering her true question. “My father would never do this and not make his presence known.”
Summer’s shoulders immediately sag as she releases the tension she was holding. “There’s definitely a rational explanation that’s nothing to worry about,” she says with finality, as if by declaring it, it’ll be so. She nods her head with her signature mischievous grin. “Or a harem of stalkers.”
I push her off the hood of my car laughing, and shaking my head. “You’re ridiculous,” I call, opening my car door and climbing in.
“And you adore it,” she coos, giving me a little finger wave.
“I don’t hate it,” I agree, before waving bye. As soon as the door closes behind me and Summer turns her back to walk away, my entire body slumps forward and I rest my forehead against the steering wheel.
It can’t be my father. He wouldn’t go out of his way for me like this. He would never give without taking. He only ever takes. It’s the only thing he knows how to do. I continue to repeat the mantra until my heart rate settles back to something of a normal pace.
There’s a rational explanation. There has to be.
Alright. I take it all back.
There’s absolutely no way there is a rational explanation for this.
The mix of horror and mortification that churns through me leaves me feeling breathless and I can’t tell if I’m going to puke, or pass out. Maybe both.
The unopened vibrator sitting on my kitchen table taunts me as I stare at it. A smaller package sits next to it that I’ve yet to open. I’m not quite over the shock of a sex toy showing up inside my house overnight.
Maybe it’s better not to know what is in the other package. At least I know for certain it is in fact not my father doing the cleaning now. There’s no way he would ever leave something like this. He’d lose his mind if he knew I even had one.
I need Summer. I barely even check the time before pulling up her contact and hitting dial. It’s too early for her to be in any of her classes yet.
“Guess what showed up on my kitchen table,” I say as soon as she answers in lieu of a greeting.
“A hot tattooed man with nothing on but a red bow over his dick,” she guesses without missing a beat.
I blink slowly, a huff of laughter escaping despite the situation. “Umm, no.”
“Damn.” I can almost hear her shaking her head on the other side of the line.
This girl, not a serious bone in her body. Although it’s hard to be serious about a sex toy. “A vibrator,” I blurt out and she snorts.
“Well shit, that’s nearly as good.” She hums before adding, “Maybe even better on some days.”
I groan, even though she has a point. “I didn’t order any sex toys,” I explain.
“Okay,” she says, more serious now. “Could it be like an author giveaway you forgot about? Remember when that author’s assistant sent me a wand?”
“It wasn’t at my door in a package,” I emphasize. “It was already on my kitchen table. No box with an address or anything. Just the vibrator.”
She’s silent for a moment and I can tell she’s trying to hold herself back.
I sigh. “Say it.”
“Is it a good one?”
I groan, “You’re the worst.”
She laughs. “Come on, don’t leave a girl hanging.”
“Yes,” I answer, refusing to expand on it as my cheeks heat. “But I’m actually freaked out by this now.”
“It is freaky it was inside your house,” she agrees. “Anything else with it?”
I tell her about the smaller package that came with it that I haven’t opened yet.
“Well what are you waiting for?” she asks with exasperation. “Maybe it’ll have answers.”
But maybe it’ll have answers I’m not ready for yet.
“Do it,” she demands, making her voice all deep.
I scrunch my nose even though she can’t see me, but put her on speaker as I put my phone down and pick up the small white envelope.
“Is it a note?” she asks.
Ignoring her, I feel the envelope and there’s definitely something other than a note in it.
I turn it over in my hands, but there’s no address or return address.
“It says ‘Baby Girl’ on it,” I tell Summer before ripping it open.
“No note.” Something small and circular falls into the palm of my hand as I turn the envelope upside down.
It takes a moment for it to register what the item is.
“It’s a Pop Socket. Like for the back of your phone or Kindle,” I explain.
“Are you sure it’s not from an author?” she asks. She was obviously hoping for something more exciting, but as I read the words on the Pop Socket, my entire face flames.
Surely I have to be wrong. But what are the chances?
“You got quiet,” Summer says in a near whisper. Why is she dropping her voice too?
I huff a startled laugh, not even sure what to do or say. “This is crazy,” I stammer.
“Why? What is it?” There’s a note of real panic in her voice and I know she can hear the strain in my own.
“It says ‘One-handed reader’ on it,” I explain, “but that’s not the problem.” I don’t even know how to explain why this is absolutely mortifying. I groan, long and deep as my embarrassment makes me close my eyes as if that will somehow make the story easier to tell.
“I didn’t…come…last night.” Silence on the other end of the phone.
Right, definitely not the right place to start but I’m clearly not in the right frame of mind for any of this.
No way to get through it without continuing to move forward.
At least it’s only Summer this time. She’d never judge me.
“Because in the middle of my self-care session to unwind from the stress of this whole situation my vibrator suddenly died,” I continue.
“Not died, needed-to-be-charged died. Like died-died, never-coming-back-died, I’m-just-thankful-it-didn't-electrocute-my-clit- when-it-died kind of died.”
“Ouch, unnecessary visual on that one,” she interjects. “Thanks for that.”
I laugh, a brittle, slightly deranged sound.
“I was in the middle of reading a spicy scene from the book I was telling you about,” I continue.
“So that happens and now I wake up to a brand new vibrator to replace the one that broke and an accessory to make it easier to hold my Kindle with the implication of using it for exactly what I was doing last night.” My voice has risen at least an octave by the time I’m done.
I don’t even know what that means, but it sounds right because my voice has never been as high pitched and whiny as what just spewed out of my mouth. An octave has to be about right.
“So it is a stalker,” she squeaks. Clearing her throat she jokes, “Maybe your stalker heard you when you said he wasn’t getting you any presents.”
Horror washes over me. “Do you think?” Was there anyone really around us while we were talking?
We were talking about everything as we walked, unless someone followed us the whole way and was in our class, there’s no way they could have overheard.
Could they? Would they have understood just by hearing a part of it?
Maybe. I can’t remember exactly how we talked. “That was just a joke.”
“I made it worse, didn’t I?”
“Oh my god, do I have a stalker?” I exclaim, my breath coming out in harsh pants. I can’t do this all over again. Someone watching my every move. Never knowing when I’m safe and when I’m one moment away from my personal space being invaded. My sanity, dignity, and comfort being stripped from me.
“Okay, on the bright side,” Summers says in a far too cheerful voice, “this stalker is being kind of hot.”
I burst out laughing, unable to handle the absurdity of her statement and this entire situation.
“He folds your laundry, cares about your pleasure, sends you gifts, calls you baby girl. It could be worse.”
The near insane cackle subsides into amused giggles. Why cry when you can laugh? “Now that you mention it, I don’t think my stalker could be a man at all.”
She hums as she pretends to turn the thought over in her mind. “You’re probably right. It has to be a woman.”
I sigh, not really wanting to pivot back to serious but this isn’t something I can just ignore. I’ve been doing my best to do that but it’s only going to continue to escalate.
“Do you really think someone was watching me last night?” My voice sounds small, even to my own ears. I barely recognize it.
Summer doesn’t answer right away, which is answer enough.
“It could just be a really crazy coincidence,” she offers.
“It’s not like that saying is super unique.
” That’s a very fair point. “Maybe they saw you reading smut or wearing one of your million smut themed outfits and thought it was a clever gift.”
I take a deep breath and force myself to remain calm.
Her words actually do make me feel better.
It isn’t a far jump from knowing what I like to read to a gift like the one I’ve been given.
Either way, someone was still in my house in the middle of the night.
A shiver races down my spine. “I have to call the cops.”
“Probably a good idea,” she agrees solemnly. “Want me to come over?”
I hesitate before answering. It might be nice to have her here.
She’s the only person in the world who understands why this gets under my skin more than just what one would expect.
The memories it conjures from that cage I do my best to forget exists.
But I know how busy her schedule is. It’s enough to know I have someone willing to drop everything to have my back. “You’re good, thanks, babe.”