6. Rune #2
"Says who?" I asked. "You were molested by a twenty-two-year-old man when you were twelve. And not just once. No one in their right mind should expect you to just 'be over it,’ as if you could wave a magic wand and erase that trauma. That’s not how it works, babe.
You decide what you're comfortable with. No one else."
"That's just the thing, Rune—I want to be over it.
I want to be comfortable with every part of sex, especially giving oral sex.
But I'm not. And it's sort of random, which is the maddening part.
I'll be fine and dandy, going down on a guy, gluck-gluck-gluck .
And then suddenly I'm not fine and I have no idea what triggers it. "
"I wish I had an answer or advice, but I don't."
"I'm glad you don't, Rune. If you did, it'd be because you had experience with it, and you don't. So I’m glad you don't have any advice for me." She shook her head, sighing. "We’re done with this, now. Okay?"
"Okay, but please know you can talk to me. I'm not a therapist, but I am your best friend."
"I hear you," she said. She grinned, then. "And for the record, I'd like to live vicariously through you, so do us both a favor and give hunka-hunka burnin' love Mr. Duncan Badd some sloppy head and report back to me, okay?"
I saluted the screen. “Yes, ma'am. Private Rigby reporting for duty."
She frowned at her phone. “Oh, it's Raquel calling me. Lemme merge the calls, hold on."
A second later, Raquel's face appeared on the screen next to Lindsey's.
Lindsey and I actually look a lot alike, except she has platinum blond hair. We both have bright blue eyes, similar facial features, and a similar build; we're often mistaken for twins.
Raquel is our other best friend. Lindsey and I were roommates all through college, until my parents surprised me with a condo at the start of my senior year at USC.
By then, Lindsey was already living with Damian, so I moved Hayes in with me, and the four of us often went on double dates together.
Raquel entered the scene junior year and quickly became a consistent third in our friendship.
Raquel was Black, with hair that changed styles every couple of months, big brown eyes, smooth, beautiful, dark brown skin, and a dancer's lean, lithe body.
On screen, she was rocking her natural hair—cropped short in tight, close curls with the sides shaved, a style that highlighted her absurdly perfect facial structure, huge almond eyes, and perfectly red lips.
In the background, I saw Hamish struggling to tie gear down onto the roof of a Ford Explorer, his wild red hair shaggy and messy.
"Ya'll, Alaska is crazy !” Raquel announced. "We camped by a river a few days ago, and this big ol' mama brown bear walked right by our tent with her little cubs. I about died, but they didn't do nothing. They just stopped, looked at us, and kept on going."
"Raquel," I said. "How the hell do you look so damn good after weeks in the fucking Alaskan wilderness?"
"Girl, I always look good," Raquel answered, tossing her head. "Real talk, though? I need a shower, like bad . Wet wipes and river baths can only get a bitch so clean, you know what I'm saying?"
Lindsey gagged. "River baths? You can miss me with that. Fish pee in rivers."
Raquel snickered. "It's refreshing. You're never as awake as when you jump into a glacier-fed river at six am."
"She's a nutter," Hamish said, leaning over his fiancée's shoulder to address the phone. "For a city girl, she loves the wild places even more than me. If it was up to her, we'd fly in a priest and get married on the riverbank."
"I grew up in Compton, Hamish. Until I met you, I never left LA. So yeah, I love the wilderness. It's…I dunno. It's just so alive —it makes me feel alive. Makes me feel connected to something larger than me."
Hamish gave her a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek. "And I love the shite outta you for that. You see everythin’ with a delirious sort of wonder that makes me appreciate everythin’ all the more."
I rolled my eyes. "You two are so adorable it's fucking ridiculous.”
Raquel turned and licked Hamish's cheek, and then dissolved into gales of shrieking laughter as he returned the favor, the screen flailing wildly as they playfully fought to out-lick each other.
"OKAY!" Lindsey shouted. "WE GET IT! YOU LOVE EACH OTHER! CAN WE HAVE AN ADULT CONVERSATION NOW?"
Raquel appeared on screen again, wiping at her face with her hand, panting. "Sorry, sorry. We're heading back to town, now, Rune. We don't have anywhere to stay, though, and the flight's tomorrow.”
"I'll have to talk to Duncan, see if he has any options,” I answered.” I'd let you stay with me, but I'm in a hostel and the room barely fits me. I'll find somewhere for you guys to sleep tonight, I promise. Just get back to Ketchikan. I'll have something figured out by then."
We said our goodbyes, and then Raquel dropped out, leaving Lindsey and I on the line together once more.
"I love them," Lindsey said. "They're couple goals."
"For real." I met Lindsey's eyes via the screen. "I am glad you made me come up for this. I would have regretted missing it, especially over Hayes Motherfucking Willoughby."
"Facts, babe, facts," Lindsey said. "Okay, well, I gotta pack. My flight leaves at the perforated colon of dawn tomorrow."
"The what?"
“Perforated colon of dawn."
"Gross."
"The only accurate way to describe a five a.m. departure."
"Ew, that is gross. I don't believe in being awake before six."
"Me either! I'm a cocktail waitress. I'm usually still awake at five."
"So will you still be awake when you board, or…?"
"Sadly, no. I tried that once when Damian and I went on vacation to Cozumel.
The only flight we could find was a six a.m. departure, and I figured what the hell, I'll just work my usual shift, stay awake, and sleep on the plane.
" She laughed, shaking her head. “Spoiler alert, that did not work.
I was crashing out in the lounge before the flight and then completely failed to sleep on the plane.
I wasted the whole first day of our four-day vacation fucked up from jet lag, and we only went to Mexico. "
"But how will you fall asleep?"
"Drugs."
"How will you wake up?"
"Willpower."
"Linz. That's not gonna work. You'll oversleep."
"Do you have any other suggestions? I've been awake for thirty-six hours, Rune. I will fall asleep. I've got six alarms set on my phone, two alarm clocks in my room, and my next-door neighbor who gets up for work at four is gonna pound on the wall when she wakes up for her shift."
"You're a nutter, babe,” I said, sounding like a demented version of Shrek.
“You're not Scottish, so you don't get to call me a nutter."
"Fine, you're a fucking lunatic."
"Better."
"I gotta go," I said. "I need to get ahold of Duncan and figure out somewhere for Raquel and Hamish to stay tonight."
"Tell you what, though, that boy is earning his BJs."
I glared at her. "Sex is not transactional, Lindsey .”
She rolled her eyes. "No, it's not. But B-Js do make an excellent boyfriend motivator. Offer a boy some head and he'll do just about anything you ask."
"But then you have to follow through," I pointed out. "And isn't that a little manipulative?"
She shrugged. "Maybe? Only if he thinks so.
I did it with Damian, once. The man was not motivated to help around the apartment, so I used that to motivate him.
I made him that offer—do some cleaning so the apartment isn't a disaster when I get back from work, and I’ll blow you.
Let me tell you, Rune, I got back from work that night, and that apartment was spotless.
Spotless , I tell you. That boy cleaned his skinny ass off. "
"And?"
"And I sucked his soul out through his dick, because I didn't have to vacuum or do the dishes or anything when I got home. He even did laundry. You know how I am."
I did—she was fastidious to the point of obsession.
She hated mess, despised clutter, and loathed doing laundry.
She would come home from class or work and be dead tired, but she'd spend an hour or two cleaning because she just couldn’t relax with a mess.
And to Lindsey, anything out of place or even slightly dirty was a disaster—there was no middle ground between clean and filthy.
It worked for us when we roomed together, because my parents are both equally obsessed with cleanliness, so I tended to be pretty neat.
"Did that become an ongoing thing?" I asked.
"I mean, no. It's not something I'd do, like regularly.
If someone is living with you, they should help out with the cleaning.
I'm a neat freak, and I get that no one else is going to do what I do, but I just wanted him to help at all . He did help out more after that, even without the motivation. I think he was hoping for a reward, though.”
I snickered. "Seems a little cruel, Linz. Make him think he'll get rewarded every time he cleans?"
“He's not a dog, Rune."
She laughed. "I mean, you met him."
I spluttered. “ Lindsey ! Mean!"
"I say it with affection. He was goofy. He was a yellow lab in human form. Cute, funny, goofy, affectionate…but spazzy and not always the smartest crayon in the tool drawer."
"You just mixed, like, so many metaphors."
"I know. I'm funny that way."
"I'm hanging up now, Linz."
"Good. Because you know I won't. I'll just keep on yakking at you unless you hang up on me."
"Which must make you one of those little yappy dogs that are always barking, if we're comparing people to dogs."
"Excuse me! I am not a yappy little dog."
"You're one of those Chihuahuas with missing teeth so their tongue hangs out all the time. With yapping."
She gasped. "Rune Rigby! How dare you!"
I cackled. "Love you, byeeee!" I hung up before she could clap back.
Of course, she's not one to let anyone have the last word—she sent me a GIF of a pug looking demented and inbred, and while she didn’t include anything else, the meaning was clear.
The bitch.
I sent her a selfie of me doing a kissy-face. She responded with a selfie of her flipping me off.
If I didn't just stop responding, though, we'd be doing this for hours, so I just ha-ha'd the image and called Duncan.
My heart shouldn't have gone pitter-patter at the thought of talking to him, but it did.
My lady bits shouldn't be moist at the mere thought of hearing his voice, but they were.
He's trouble, I tell you. Trouble with a capital T, and I’ve had my fill of troublesome boys.
Good thing this whole thing with him has a built-in expiration date—in three days' time I’ll be back in LA and he'll be here, and that'll be that.
He answered on the third ring, sounding groggy. "H'lo?"
"Hi, Duncan. It's me. Sorry to wake you up…again."
"Mmm. Time's it?" A rustling. "Oh, shit. Good thing you did call—I'm gonna be late opening." More rustling. “You're on speaker while I get dressed. What's up?"
"Oh, well, this whole 'the hotel burned down' thing is causing all sorts of issues.
Raquel and Hamish are coming back into town from wherever they were camping, but now they have nowhere to stay before the flight to Anchorage tomorrow.
You know how small my hostel room is, or I'd let them crash with me.
I, uh…don't suppose you have any more ideas? "
He laughed, sounding like he was halfway across the room. A moment later, he spoke again with the phone off speaker. "I might have an idea, let me make a call and get back to you…fuck me; after I get the Kitty open. Like an hour?"
"No hurry. I'm gonna hang out with them when they get here. I'm just hoping you'll come through again. I'm really leaning on you a lot, and I'm grateful."
“Hey, it's all good. I'm glad I could help. I really gotta go now, but I'll call you back when I can. And hey, thanks for the wake-up call."
"Least I could do after all you've done for me and my friends."
"I mean, it’s not like I'm not getting anything out of it," he said, his voice low and rough and intimate. "Not that that's why I'm doing it. Just saying. It's not purely out of the goodness of my heart. Just mostly."
"I the appreciate the honesty, Duncan. Now hang up and go be a manager. We’ll talk later."
He hung up and I headed back to my hostel room to pack, and tried not to think about all the delicious ways I could repay Duncan for helping us with Raquel's and Hamish's wedding.