Chapter Fourteen
W ell, that was… bizarre.
I let myself in the front door, wondering if I’d missed something. I was pretty sure I’d dozed off a while in his truck, but I think I got the gist of it. He’d apologized— apologized! —and then declared a truce. I was just happy that I didn’t have to question my job status anymore. I didn’t need the worry this weekend on top of getting ditched for some fish.
Surprisingly, the rest of the night had gone well anyway. There’d been enough distractions to keep my mind off everything. And Stephen? Holy shit . That had been an unexpected sharp turn I’d never seen coming. If he wanted to be friends, I could be friends. It would make work a hell of a lot easier. I just wish I hadn’t liked his handshake so much. A fucking handshake. Get a grip.
I steadied myself against the wall. My head was still bobbing, but at least now it was partially above water instead of submerged completely. I was nowhere near sober yet, but I could walk without help. That was a bonus.
“Fucking asshole!”
“Christa?”
“Perry! Ohmigod, he’s such a fucking asshole!” she screamed-slurred at me from the other room.
I trudged through the kitchen, wondering if anyone else was there. Did I need to call the cops? I heard a thud and then a yelp.
“Ow! Fucking dickwad! His balls need to be blenderized.”
I peeked in to see her alone, stumbling around and kicking furniture. An open bottle of liquor was on the coffee table.
“You’re drunk,” I said, looking at myself in the mirror. Wait, wrong person. I shifted my eyes to her. “You’re drunk,” I said again. “And mad. What’s the matter?”
She teetered over and put her hands on my shoulders. “You need to get drunk with me.”
“Already am.”
“Then drunker.”
“Already was.”
“I need to tell you something so bad.” She let go and went for the bottle. “But I can’t. Not until you’re super drunk.” She held it up to my lips. “Drink.”
I tried reading the label but my eyes were loopy. “What is it?”
“Strawberry tequila.” I wasn’t a fan of the tequila. “Hurry up. You’ll like it.”
“What the hell.” My judgment was already impaired, which impaired my judgment further. Nasty, vicious cycle it was.
And that was how I’d quickly reverted back to my too-shitfaced-to-stand state. Several gulps later and my ass was on the floor. At least I didn’t have anywhere to be. I could fall asleep right there if I wanted.
“How’d you get home?” she asked, sprawled out with me.
“Stephen. ”
“Did you fuck him?”
“What? No!”
“Are you going to?”
“No. What the hell, Christa?” She knew the whole temporary boss story. I’d told her everything the week before, and she’d agreed what a messed-up situation it was.
“Well, you should. You should fuck him a whole bunch of times.”
She held on to the couch and dragged herself up. Then she tried kicking it again but missed. She spun around and almost landed on my face.
“Christa, stop kicking stuff. I’m plastered, okay? My tongue is numb, so you can tell me now.”
“He’s a fucking asshole, Perry.”
“Who?”
“Dre.”
“Why?”
“You should fuck Stephen, because that’s what Dre would do.”
I didn’t know why I found that so frickin’ hilarious, but I began laughing so hard I had to lift my head so I didn’t choke on my own spit.
“What’s so funny?”
“I don’t think Dre would fuck Stephen. Blonds aren’t his type.” I found that even funnier, but then I turned woozy.
“No, Perry. Listen. Dre is cheating on you. Cheating . Fucking that skank trainer at the club.”
“What? No, he’s not.” The room started to tremble. Did they have earthquakes in Wisconsin?
“I said I wouldn’t bring it up again unless I had proof. He’s fucking cheating, Perry.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I have a feeling.”
“That’s not proof. ”
I didn’t know how she did it, but she poured more alcohol down her throat. I was spinning just watching her. I closed my eyes but quickly realized how screwy that idea was.
“What do you think he’s doing this weekend? He’s off fucking someone else, that’s what.”
“But….” I tried very hard to think about it, but having shit for brains didn’t make that possible.
“Motherfucking piece-of-shit, ass-licking bastard.” She looked to be strangling a pillow. Poor thing. “He doesn’t deserve to live.”
I tried reaching up for her hand. “You should be down here with me. We’re having an earthquake.”
“Promise me you won’t let him get away with it.”
“How’s it snowing in here?”
Was there a window open? When was the last time it snowed in April? Bits of white fluffy stuff floated down on me. I opened my mouth to taste the flakes. What the fuck? I coughed, spitting them out.
“Promise me, Perry. Right now.”
“Um, promise?” But what was I promising? I picked up a handful of fluff. Wait, that wasn’t snow. I blinked up. Christa was ripping apart our pillow.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Pretending this is Dre’s face.”
Oh yeah. Dre. Now what was she saying about—
“He wants you to have this fucking relationship with him, but he doesn’t want to play by the same rules. He’s off screwing someone else and lying about it.”
“But how do you know?”
“I know . It’s a feeling.”
“But—”
“He should be catheterized with a hot poker.”
Okay, first of all… ow. I squeezed my legs together. I didn’t have a dick, but even I could feel that. Second, I couldn’t fucking think straight. I had questions but couldn’t form them well enough to ask.
“You’re a good friend, Christa. The best.” She was. I could at least figure that one out. She was getting angry for me when I couldn’t.
“Why’s his ugly, worthless truck here?”
“He wants me to keep an eye on it while he’s gone.”
“While he fucks someone else? Fuck that. I have a better idea. Get up.”
“Ha-ha. Sure.”
She tugged me into a sitting position and I pressed my palms to the ground, convinced that I’d be tumbling right back down. But turned out it wasn’t too bad. Maybe I wasn’t as thought as I drunk I was. Ha-ha. I laughed at my own joke.
Christa snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Focus, Perry.” She held the bottle to my lips once again. “Drink.”
And that’s when things really got weird.
“What are we doing, Christa?”
I was hanging on to her bedroom dresser while she rummaged around in the drawer. How we’d made it there with only each other for support was one of those mysteries.
“Here, hold this.”
I reached out my hand, not knowing what she was going to put in it. I didn’t care. I trusted her. I was hovering in that dangerous state somewhere between extremely wasted and still mobile. That place where people jumped off roofs. I made some homemade wings—do you wanna come fly with me? Sure, why not? Sounds like a great idea. Splat.
I wrapped my fingers around something long and skinny. Then I looked down. “What the hell is wrong with you, Christa?” I dropped it and she picked it back up. “A fucking needle?”
I couldn’t even. I’d rather jump off a roof. I was going to have to find my phone right the fuck now and check her into rehab .
“I’m not fucking shooting up. What the hell, Perry?”
“Then why do you have a damn needle?” Oh wait. Oh shit. “No, Christa. Don’t even think about it. God, you brought this home from the clinic, didn’t you? You are not injecting fucking botulism into my forehead.”
“Damn, girl. Get a grip. I’m not sticking anything into your face.”
“Then why do you even have this?” Ugh. I felt squeamish. “Tell me this wasn’t already in someone’s face.”
“Of course not. It was in my stomach.” What the…. “Well, not that exact syringe. It’s just one left over. I knew it’d come in handy again someday.”
Right. I’d almost forgotten that she’d tried out some wacky diet a couple years back where she shot hormones into her stomach every morning. I cringed just thinking about it. It hadn’t lasted too long, fortunately. She’d turned into a complete bitch during that time.
She set down a small bottle of something. Deer urine. Deer. Urine. Deer urine? “Where did you get this?” I. Couldn’t. Even.
“Hunting supply store.”
“Just what kind of freaky shit are you into, Christa?” Last I’d checked she was not a hunter, so what kind of sane non-hunter person had deer urine lying around?
“Just come on. You promised.”
“Promised what? I think I’d remember promising anything that involved animal piss.” Or would I? Damn.
She gripped my arm and pulled me sharply towards her. The room started twirling again. A new wave of haze descended over me. I was definitely in some dream. Yeah, that was it. Christa was my best friend. Not some crazed lunatic who kept needles and urine in her drawer.
“If I tell you too much you won’t do it. And you need to do it, Perry. You need to get revenge on that cheating scumbag.”
“But how can I do something when I don’t know what I’m doing?” I held on to her arm. “And stop your damn room from spinning already, will you?”
“You’ll feel better outside.”
That was the truth. The fresh air would feel wonderful. It didn’t take much more convincing to get me out there, but I was baffled when I saw where she was leading me. Dre’s truck.
And that was the last thing I remembered.
Shrieking banshees were outside my window. You just had to be Dorothy, didn’t you? My house had been transported to Ireland during the night. Great. Now I’d have to deal with the fucking flying monkeys. Wait, no. That was Oz. So what kind of monkeys hung out with banshees? This could not be good.
“Perry!”
Huh? I rolled my head over shards of glass. They were piercing my skin, my eyeballs, my bones. I was probably making a huge mess.
“Perry!” My lids lifted, barely. “Perry, answer your damn phone already!”
I groaned. Not a banshee. Christa. And the shrieking was coming from down the hall, not outside. Knowing that didn’t help in the least. I still needed it to stop. Badly.
“I can’t,” I tried yelling back, but it hurt too much. It came out more like a whisper.
I closed my eyes, and the next time I opened them it was afternoon. My phone came into focus, lying on the bed. Unless it had sprouted legs and hopped up, I could only assume Christa brought it in while I was out cold.
I pulled it towards me. My brain was still bashing my skull, but thankfully it had improved to the point where I no longer wanted to weep. On the screen there were notifications of missed calls from my mom and sister and one text from an unknown number. Nothing from Dre.
I checked out the text: How are you feeling?
Yeah, I’d be answering that one with an I’m feeling hot and horny, and by the way, I’m also not wearing any panties. I would’ve rolled my eyes if I could’ve done it pain-free.
I tossed the phone aside and started the process of piecing together the previous night. Judging by the way I felt, I had to make sure I hadn’t done anything asinine. I didn’t think I’d ever gotten so drunk before without getting sick, which probably explained why I had the worst hangover of my life.
The entire time at the Brewhouse was pretty clear. Nothing foggy there. I’d thrown back too many too fast, but all that seemed to spur on was lots of hysterical laughter. I’d had a fantastic time dancing with Kate and then… Stephen. That was when it started getting bizarro. He’d offered to drive me home and Kate had encouraged it. Something about putting my mind at ease come Monday. It’d seemed like a good idea at the time, and his friend had been a good buffer. But after he’d been dropped off, it was just Stephen and me, and then… and then what?
An apology, I remembered that. Crazy . Then something about calling a truce. He took my phone and… and… Holy crap, seriously?
I grabbed my phone and tabbed on the text. I received porny messages from random numbers often enough. There were too many creepsters out there hoping to get a response. Of course, I’d think this one was just another to add to the slush pit.
Once I had the conversation up, I was able to see the original message he’d sent to himself from my phone:
Knock knock.
Okay, that made me laugh. Ow, ow, ow. I bit my tongue hard so I’d stop, then massaged my temples. Laughing was off-limits until my head was repaired.
I replied, Who’s there?
I put the phone down, not expecting a response for a while. It was probably not even a minute before it dinged.
As soon as you remember the answer, I’ll let you know. It’s pretty damn funny, though.
I smiled. Hopefully, I wouldn’t remember it anytime soon because it really was freaking hilarious.
Ding .
You never told me how you’re feeling.
Is that your version of a joke?
That bad, huh? And here I thought you were getting better when I dropped you off.
I was until I started drinking again with Christa. Big mistake.
At least you were at home.
Hopefully. Like the rest of me, my memory hasn’t fully recovered yet.
He didn’t respond, so I assumed he was done and I’d see him on Monday. I rested my eyes and started going through the parts of my night after we’d called our truce. Coming home, Christa yelling and beating up the furniture, accusing Dre of—
Ding . I’d like to call you if you’re up for it.
Call me? Texting was one thing, but calling? I wasn’t sure if I was up for it, but I told him okay anyway. Then the flutters began.
My phone rang and the flutters turned into quakes. I saw this guy all the time now. Why should a little phone call make me nervous?
“Hello.”
“Were you serious about not remembering?”
“I’d never tease about a knock-knock joke.”
“Perry, you know that’s not what I meant.”
I didn’t see what the problem was. Except for the sound of his voice making me feel a lot better. I could definitely see that as a problem. But only if I let it.
“Things are still a little blurry, that’s all. I’m sure you’ve had many nights like that before.”
“I’m going to be honest here. It worries me that you’re not even sure if you were home or not.”
“Well, I woke up in my own bed, so that’s a good sign.”
“Where was Dre in all this?”
“Dre? Why would you ask about him?”
“Considering he’s your boyfriend, I’d think he’d be looking out for you.”
Dre. Christa told me that he went off with another woman this weekend. I thought he’d just gone fishing with his buddies, but… could it be true?
“Perry?”
“Hold on. Some stuff’s coming back to me.”
She’d been so angry on my behalf; I could easily recall that. Wanted me to get revenge. We were in her bedroom. She asked me to hold on to a syringe. She set down a bottle of…what the hell? “Deer urine?”
“What?”
Oh, I’d said that out loud. “I have to go, Stephen. I really need some water.” And I must talk to Christa . “Um, thanks for checking up on me.”
“You’re welcome. What are friends for?”
Crazy . “Okay. I’ll see you on Monday, then.”
I swore I heard a sigh. “Have a good weekend, Perry.”
“You too, Stephen.”
I ended the call, then attempted to drag my sorry ass out of bed. On the third try I was successful. I shuffled to the kitchen and poured myself some water first thing. I was chugging it down when—
“Hey. ”
I spat a mouthful all over the floor and hacked up my lungs for a good minute before I could even regain a normal breath. Tears were streaming down my face, and I felt light-headed enough to pass out. I grasped the counter tightly. I wanted to murder her.
“Fuck, Christa. What did you do that for?”
“Perry, I was right here the whole time. It’s not like I snuck up on you.”
“You could have said something to me before I took a drink.”
She was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee. I apparently hadn’t noticed her due to my tunnel vision that morning, but she could’ve timed her mouth better.
I cleaned up the spill, then refilled my water. I sat down at the table and gave her a once-over. “Why don’t you look horrible?” Her eyes weren’t even bloodshot.
“Believe me, I feel it. Especially because I wasn’t able to go back to sleep after your phone was making those godawful sounds.”
“Sorry about that. I should’ve turned the ringer down, but last night I forgot that I even owned a phone.”
She snorted. “Yeah, you were pretty wasted. So was I.” Her hands circled the cup. “So, who was that calling so early?”
“My mom and Sam.”
“Okay, well. I’m going to lie back down for a while. I thought this coffee would help my pounding head but it just made it worse.”
She stood up. “Wait,” I said. “What happened last night?”
“You don’t remember?”
“No, that’s why I’m asking. Everything after going out to Dre’s truck is a blur. And what was the deal with the urine?” Why she even had it in her possession was another story, but I’d get to that a different time.
She rubbed the back of her neck. “We were just messing around. No big deal.”
“If it’s no big deal just tell me. ”
She sighed, then went over and dumped her cup in the sink. She didn’t seem up for this, and honestly, I was about ready to curb the conversation myself. I was feeling too shitty to try and force it out of her.
“We squirted some on his truck.” She shrugged. “Yeah, it was childish, but as I said, we were just messing around. A little harmless revenge.”
Right. Revenge for cheating. I wanted to feel more turmoil but figured I didn’t because there wasn’t any definitive proof yet.
“Trust me, Perry. It’s no big deal.”