Chapter Two
Cherry
What do you get when you jiggle Santa’s balls?
A white Christmas.
This is my worst nightmare.
If I have to answer one more question, I’m going to scream.
“Jade. No more, pleaseeee,” I whine, slumping in my seat like a petulant toddler throwing a tantrum.
A few strands of my multi-colored hair fall into my face.
“Only a few more questions, I promise,” she says, her acrylic nails tapping away on my phone. “Okay, the next one is: If you could describe your perfect man, who would he be?” she asks me.
“ Henry Cavill .”
“No, you idiot. You need to describe him.”
“Umm… in The Witcher, he has that long white hair, golden eyes, and the growl he does. Oh my lord, it makes my bean tingle, I swear,” I groan, still slumped in my seat but more interested now in my potential matches.
“You need therapy…” Jade trails off, “And lots of it. I can’t put down a fictional man.”
“Sex with Henry would be the best therapy.”
“Did I hear you mention Henry?” Mrs. Donovan says.
Our old elementary teacher approaches us while I desperately try to hide by slumping further into my seat.
Something that didn’t work in school and doesn’t work now.
She’s deaf as fuck, but still wouldn’t hesitate to try gossiping with us about the people surrounding us, even if they can hear every word she says from how loud she shouts.
“Yes, Mrs. Donovan, you did,” my best friend shouts at the old teacher, who smiles in response.
“Henry is the best, isn’t he? So handy and great suction, too.”
“I’m going to kill you,” I whisper to my former best friend as mortification burns through my body.
“You can’t live without me, so let’s stop with the silly threats and finish these questions.”
“Fine,” I pout, “my perfect man would be fit, a bit muscly so he’d be able to throw my ass around the room like his personal sex doll.”
“Not asking for much, are we?” Jade laughs, her nails clicking on the screen as she fills out my answer.
“To be fucked like he hates me and loves me at the same time? No, I don’t think I am.”
“You have issues,” Jade manages to get out through her laugh.
Even though she isn’t wrong, I won't give her the satisfaction of knowing she’s right.
“I do not,” I huff.
“Ah, you both haven’t changed since school,” Mrs. Donovan says, her wrinkled hand gently clapping me on the shoulder as she walks past to her table.
“Bye, Mrs. Donovan!” I call after her, even though she can’t hear me.
“Ok, let’s get that taco of yours filled with some meat,” Jade loudly announces.
“I swear I will gut you with my scissors,” I threaten her.
“No, thank you. I already have plans to get my guts rearranged by someone tonight.”
“Who?”
“Your daddy, if you keep threatening me bitch. I’ll become your stepmom, set a bedtime for eight pm, and change the Wi-Fi password.” Jade deadpans, and while I think she may be joking, she fancies my dad enough to try.
“I refuse to call you mommy. Now, what’s the next question?” I ask her, wanting to get on with this so I can leave and go home to Marco.
“Oh, I already filled in this one, so the next one is…” She leaves me in suspense as she reads the question on my phone, furrowing her brow as she does: “What is your guilty pleasure?”
“And why do you look confused by that?” I laugh.
“I was trying to figure out if it was a kink question or not, so to be safe, we’ll answer for both,” She says, her fingers already poised to write my answer.
“Okayyy then,” I drone. “The normal answer would have to be a cheese sandwich, but you microwave it so it's soft and gooey.”
“Barf.”
“Don’t diss my sandwich.”
“I will if it’s deserved, now for the kink one.” She prompts, but I’m honestly stumped.
I’ve not had sex in a year, and I feel as if a spider has taken up residence in my coochie and woven a tiny webby home.
Telling her as much, I take no joy in the utter happiness that crosses her face.
“Got it. So I’ll put anal,” she preens, and I have to physically restrain myself from stabbing her with my teaspoon.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I hiss at her.
“Then give me something because being used as a blow-up sex doll is not what I’m writing down for you. I’m trying to find you a man, not arrange a manhunt for your dead body.”
“Spoilsport. Just put down spanking or something like that,” I wave my hand dismissively at her, hoping this is the final question.
“Fine,” she sighs like I’m a bother to her when she is the one who insists on this horrible idea. “I think that’s everything; you’ll get a notification for the time, date, and place once they’ve found you your perfect match! Ooo bitch I am so excited for you to get out of that funky dunk you are in finally!”
“I am not in a funk. Me and the destroyer get on perfectly fine.”
She ignores me; of course, but I can’t help the snort of laughter that escapes me as I watch the grimace on her face.
“ Ya nasty ,” she finally says, stacking our cups on the plates to take back up to the counter.
Mainly as an excuse to talk to Jackson. She’s been trying to get access to his Python for months now.
No, literally. She’s obsessed with snakes, and he’s the only person around here that we know who owns one.
“Do you need a ride home?” I ask her.
“No need. I’m going to DNF first for the new sexy book I told you about, then I have that date,” Jade says, applying a fresh coat of lipstick before we leave.
“Message me when you get home bitch,” I say, two-finger saluting her as I leave the bistro.
When I step outside, the air is crisp, and the street is bustling with people who have just finished work and are rushing to get home to do it all again tomorrow.
Thank God for being self-employed, with others who I trust to work for me when I need a day off. Being a hairdresser is my life passion.
I love giving people the confidence and change they need. Plus, I love colorful hair.
But right now, I want to get home to Marco and cuddle with him on the sofa while we binge-watch the Great British Bake Off .