Stalker Problems - Chapter 4 - The Invitation
I stared at her. “Um…what?”
She looked like she was in shock. Or maybe she was pretending like she had with her broken ankle. But playing along with that had led to me falling into a dumpster. I wasn’t falling for her tricks again.
“Really, what is this?” I held up the invitation.
“I’ve heard rumors about the Society.” Chastity shook her head as she eyed the invite. “I can’t believe it’s actually real.”
She was really milking this. “So what is it? A club of some sort?”
“A sex club,” Liz said.
I jumped. I hadn’t realized she’d woken up.
“The most exclusive sex club in the city. Or at least, that’s what my students say about it.”
A sex club? I laughed. Good one. But Chastity actually looked genuinely surprised now.
Maybe she hadn’t sent this invitation. But then…
who the hell had? Chastity had invited lots of people to this party tonight apparently.
Most of whom I probably didn’t know because my only friends were still sitting on the couch.
Which weirdo gave me this invitation? Whoever it was must have spent hours designing and handcrafting the silky envelope and figuring out how to seal it with wax.
Of the people I actually knew, my first guess was Aunt Carol, but she’d already given me lingerie.
Gag. That left Liz as my top suspect. She was always doing weird artsy shit with her boyfriend when they weren't too busy shopping for antiques or dressing up as furries. And she hadn’t given me a present.
Although, she never gave me presents. Not even at my wedding.
What kind of monster showed up to a wedding empty-handed?
And she’d heard the rumors about the Society too…
“Did you give me this?” I asked her.
Liz shook her head. “No, I didn’t bring any gifts.”
No surprise there.
“This is a big deal,” Chastity said. “It’s more exclusive than any other sex club in town.”
She seemed to know more than she was letting on. Because I’d never heard of the Society…or any sex club for that matter. I changed my mind. It was definitely from her.
“What are you going to wish for?" she asked.
The invitation wasn’t real, so my answer didn’t really matter. "I think I'm going to wish for this girls’ night to end before more strippers arrive."
"Well that would be a waste of a wish. I only hired the one."
I laughed. Maybe I should wish for my new job to go well.
I was really starting to get nervous. Yes, I loved marketing and it was a dream come true to be working for one of the top firms in New York.
But I didn’t love the idea of having to interact with other humans from 9 to 5 every day.
Or having to wear pants. I preferred only dressing up on Tuesdays and Thursdays for my stalker.
Why was I even thinking about this? The invitation was clearly a joke.
Right? But that did remind me… “I got the job. At BIMG.”
“Ah!” Chastity screamed. “That’s awesome. But back to the Society invitation real quick. You should wish for a new man.”
Wow, I thought she’d be a little happier about the fact that I’d be working with her. Madison worked there too. I turned to her. She’d congratulate me for acing the interview.
"Oh!" said Madison. "You should wish that Joe gets his dick torn off in a meat grinder!"
I laughed. "I'm not going to wish for that.” I couldn’t believe that even Madison was more excited about the invitation than my new job. But now I had no choice but to humor them and play along. “I guess revenge on Joe would be pretty sweet.”
"Well of course you’re going to get revenge.” Chastity pointed to my single girl membership card. “Rule #37: The best way to break up with a guy is to fuck his best friend.”
“But that would violate Rule #21: No kissing uggos.” Yes, I knew the rules by heart. And I was pretty sure this was the first time one of them had actually come in handy.
“Let’s just beat him up instead,” suggested Madison.
“Hmm…” I said. “Maybe we should leave the specifics up to the Society. Or Santa Claus. Or whichever one of you gave me this weird letter.” I grabbed a pen and wrote on the parchment, "I wish for revenge on my stupid cheating husband.
" I probably should have written ex-husband, but whatever. They'd get the point.
As soon as I wrote it down though, I regretted it.
There was only one thing I really wanted.
The man at One57. My stalker. But I couldn't say that out loud. No one would understand. I was worried that as soon as I told someone they’d make me feel weird about it.
What we had wasn’t orthodox. But it worked for us.
And honestly, I’d kind of been living for Tuesday and Thursday nights.
I mean…he’d been living for those nights. Since he was stalking me .
"While you’re at it, you should also wish for shoes," said Chastity.
"Okay, shoes too then." I grabbed the paper and added, "And some free shoes, please." Technically it was two wishes. But none of that mattered, since nothing I wrote down would come true. Wishes? Yeah right. If wishes came true I wouldn’t accidentally set men on fire on blind dates and I’d be happily married to my stalker.
I held up the paper for everyone to see.
"There, my wish has been made. Now it's cake time.
" And then it's time for me to go home. I needed to take at least three more showers before I’d feel truly clean again.
We had some cake, and then I left. I debated taking my wish so that I could mail it later.
A fake wish for a fake invitation-only sex club wasn’t worth the postage when I was drowning in debt.
If only wishes really came true. I slid the paper with my wishes back into the envelope and left it on the coffee table.
And even though I didn’t believe in wishes, I wished that my stalker would talk to me on Thursday.
***
PO Box 157 . I hadn’t thought anything of it when I first read that I was supposed to mail my wish there. But now, as I lay sleeplessly in my bed at 3 in the morning, it was all I could think about.
Was it a coincidence that the letter was supposed to be mailed to PO Box 157 and my stalker happened to live in One57?
Maybe. But then factor in that the FedEx man who delivered it had been about the same height and build as my stalker, and it suddenly seemed less like a coincidence.
Had my stalker delivered that letter? If only I had gotten a better look at that FedEx man…
Not that any of it mattered. Because I’d left the invitation at Chastity’s apartment. It was all a joke anyway. Secret societies didn’t exist. Well maybe they did. But not for people like me.
I rolled over and tried to find a colder spot on my pillow. I almost apologized to Joe for being “so wiggly” (as he had frequently called me), but then I snapped back to the reality where Joe had cheated on me with Sierra the Instagram model. Was he sleeping with her right now? Gross.
I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and checked Sierra’s Instagram. Nothing new since I had last checked. Which had been right before I’d climbed into bed. I had a ritual. Wash my face, brush my teeth, check my Instagram to see what Joe and Sierra were up to, and then go to bed.
Yes, I knew I had a problem. I bit the inside of my lip as I started scrolling through all her pictures again.
She looked perfect. According to GQ.com, she was the hottest redhead in New York.
Which was total bullshit. Because she didn’t even have real red hair.
It was clearly dyed. Was she trying to be me to steal my husband?
Ha. She wished she could be like me. Then she could be stalked by my stalker instead of spending time with Joe. Joe and Sierra were both total losers. They belonged together.
I didn’t check their Instagram accounts before bed because I was sad or jealous or anything crazy like that. I just liked to know what was going on with people who used to be in my life. It was normal. Oh God, I really am a stalker. I pushed the thought aside. Am not.
I needed something to distract myself, so I forced myself to get up and do something productive.
I stared down at my list of new things to try now that I was single.
The only things on the list were finding my favorite smoothie flavor and my new addition from this evening – go for a run.
I wasn’t trying to get mugged, so running was off the table in the middle of the night.
Getting blackout drunk wasn’t on my list. But it was something I’d never done before.
And I’d just gotten some shiny new wine glasses at my party.
I wrote it down so I could cross it out later, and then climbed out of bed and filled up one of the glasses with vodka instead of wine. Cheers to me.
Fine. Maybe I was a teensy little bit sad. But it was my divorce day. I was happy to have finalized the divorce. Truly. And I was thrilled about my new job. And that my stalker was being extra stalkery.
I just…I really hated Joe and Sierra. So much. I was only a little sad because I’d wanted my marriage to work. Not that I wanted it to work out with Joe. Commitment was a big deal for me. I never expected to make such a terrible choice.
Happy divorce day. I took a big sip of vodka. And cheers to blacking out for the first time ever. I loved crossing things off my list.