My gut is screaming at me. Maybe it’s all the spicy ramen. But I also think it’s the messages.
What does AverageJoeGuy know? What does he know that I don’t?
Chapter 11
Kate arrives, and she doesn’t knock on the door, she kicks it loudly. So loudly that I can’t ignore it.
“Where’ve you been, bitch? Open up!”
I grimace but pull myself from the couch, my dark green blanket wrapped tightly around me. When I get up, I nearly fall over. My feet are asleep, and I only have one sock on. How long have I been sitting here in front of my TV?
I don’t watch TV very often because I prefer my phone’s small screen close to my nose, dangling near my pillow at night. But I’ve decided I need a break from my phone.
I haven’t heard from Mack.
And I need a break from my screen. I’m ahead on my assignments. And I can’t bear to read the messages on the forum.
So, instead, I’ve been a lump on a log, a.k.a. my couch.
I let Kate in, although begrudgingly, and she immediately looks around with disgust, clutching a large paper bag filled with groceries.
“Ew, gross, this place is filthy. God, you’re kind of a slob, but I didn’t know you were a slob slob, you know what I mean?” She sets the paper bag on my table, which is small and round. Her dark hair is tied up in a bun, highlighting the beautiful cheekbones on her heart-shaped face. Olive skin, luminous and clear. “Um, excuse me? Are you watching porn right now?”
Blankly, I stare at the TV screen and then nod my head. “Yeah, it’s the only thing my TV plays. I’ve been sitting here watching it for . . .” I lift up my wrist as if I’m wearing a watch, but I’m not. “For a long time now. It’s surprisingly boring.”
Kate marches over to the coffee table, grabs the remote, and turns off the television. The image of a man fucking a woman from behind disappears. I’ve been watching silent porn for god knows how long now.
“I’m taking you out of this apartment,” Kate declares.
“No! No, you can’t! I refuse.”
She puts her hands on her hips, looking at me in frustration. “You can’t live your whole life this way, can you?”
I collapse back onto the couch, cocooned in my blanket, feet up at the end of the armrest. I turn the porn back on. “I don’t see why not.”
“Can I bribe you to go out with me again? Like we used to do in college?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Okay, but you know it’s my birthday in a few weeks. What about a drag party? There’s an amazing one on the east side. They’re doing Drag Little Mermaid. Everyone dresses up. It’s the best time you’ll have in this whole godforsaken city. C’mon. Please? Please? Please?”
I narrow my eyes at her, shooting what I hope looks like a glare. But also, a part of me feels guilty. She doesn’t expect anything from our friendship really. In fact, it’s so one sided it’s almost laughable. I don’t even leave the house. I’ve never seen her apartment, but she’s seen mine. I’ve never met her boyfriends.
And well, she’s never met mine because I’ve never had any.
My mind involuntarily wanders. And all I can see are large fish eyes and opalescent scales.
I’m a bad friend. Normally, though, I’m numb to the feelings. But now, a pang of guilt stabs my chest. And I don’t like it. I haven’t felt this pang in a long time, something has awakened. “Fine. Maybe I’ll come to Drag Little Mermaid with you. Maybe.”
“Yay!” Kate claps her hands together excitedly.
“And also.” I pull the blanket up around my mouth as if it will cushion what I’m about to admit to next. “I have to confess something to you.”
Her smile drops. “What do you mean?”
***
I’m relieved to be alone in my apartment again. Sometimes, Kate overstays her welcome, which doesn’t take much, really. My tolerance is low.
But now the place spotless. The clothes are washed and hung up, the dirty mugs gleaming and sparkling in the kitchen cabinets. The fridge is filled with things I’ll never eat, like tomatoes and cucumbers and kale. Ugh, fucking kale.
But despite myself, I appreciate the effort. I’m grateful.
Plus, I appreciate her advice. The weirdo that she is.
Because I spilled my guts to Kate. I told her everything about Mack. That I saw him. Who he is. Fish daddy exists.
“I’m crazy, right?” I asked her.
And she only had one thing to say to me. “I believe you.”
And then she said, “I think you should keep talking to him. I think there’s a lesson for you to learn here.”
“But he doesn’t want to talk.”
She sighed. “You know how our friendship is one sided?”
I looked off to the side guiltily.
