Whoa. Marcus would love her.
Ali doesn’t expect much conversation. She’s made it pretty clear this is a booty call, which is an entirely new experience for me. I pop in one of the Christian Bale Batman movies to create the illusion we’re going to do something other than just have sex. It makes me feel a little less sleazy. Before the plot even gets going she’s got her shirt off and her hand down my pants.
She’s very flexible. And very vocal. Very. I find myself wishing I’d closed the window. But then she takes my body to places I didn’t know existed and so what if the neighbors hear.
She doesn’t linger when we’re done. She just kisses me and gets dressed and swears she’s not normally like this. Then she leaves. The movie’s not even over.
And now I feel even lonelier than I did before.
NINE
“I broke up with Sheila,” I say to Dr. Dave as soon as he takes his seat.
“This is a good thing?”
“I feel pretty freaking good. I met this chick last week at my new job and she, uh, consoled me last night.”
Dr. Dave flips open his notebook and writes as he talks. “You got a new job?”
“Yeah. With this cool mountain-man photographer.”
“This is good, Tyler.”
“The only problem is this chick from school works there. We sort of used to be friends. And then she moved away after sixth grade and gothed out and now she hates me because I didn’t recognize her.”
“What’s her name?”
“Jordyn.” I crane my neck to see what he’s writing in his little notepad. “Y-N,” I correct him.
He adjusts the notepad so I can’t see it and then grins at me. “Consoled, huh?”
I shrug like it’s no big deal.
“Show-off.”
“You’re just jealous,” I say.
“You’re not wrong. I would have killed for that when I was your age.” He laughs. “So you think it’s okay to shit where you eat?”
“What?”
“How long before you get fired for having sex with this Jordyn?”
“Oh, god. No. It wasn’t with Jordyn.” I cringe. “The girl was a client.”
He raises his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Sorry. I assumed.”
“Jesus.”
“This reaction is a bit extreme, no?” He’s laughing at me.
“Please change the subject,” I beg.
“Fine.” He flips the page in his notebook. “Let’s talk about your dad.”
“Nice try.” I laugh now. I’ve told him that my dad’s an asshole and that’s all there is to say, but he’s always trying to get me to “explore my anger toward my father.”
“Let’s talk about football then.”
“You’re a real piece of work, Doc.”
We settle on the subject of Sheila. He’s proud of me for finally letting her off the hook. He thinks I was being a prick to her. And I guess I kind of was.
? ? ?
Jordyn shows up to the studio a minute after me wearing a particularly terrifying scowl, and, of course, that goddamn leather jacket. When she passes me to unlock the door, I see the origin of her extremely bad mood. The word slut is written across her back in giant white letters. That totally sucks. She probably even paid for that jacket herself, unlike most of the privileged assholes we go to school with.
She lets the door slam on me. I don’t take it personally. I’d be that pissed if someone did that to something I obviously love.
She checks the voicemail, scribbling the messages so hard, the pen goes through the paper a few times, and then she growls because she has to listen to the message again. When she’s finally done, she slams the headset down—it’s probably broken. I mentally map out the nearest office supply store because I will surely be tasked with finding a replacement.
I kind of hover nearby but keep my distance. I’m afraid to step into the circular counter area for fear she’ll, like, hit me or something.
Plus I feel completely useless when she’s here. She doesn’t let me do anything. She’s made it abundantly clear that she knows I’ll just mess things up and she’ll have more work to do.
I head to the kitchen and clean a coffee mug. It’s literally the only task I can find.
When I return to the front, I decide to brave the counter area. I need to check the schedule so I can anticipate what furniture Henry will want moved.
I go to the computer I’m allowed to use—the one Jordyn doesn’t—and see that we don’t have anyone scheduled until two p.m. Why did they have me come in so early? Not that I’m complaining. I need the money.
I decide to make a coffee run, mostly just to get out of the suffocating awkwardness. I have twenty bucks in my wallet. Twenty bucks that will have to last me the rest of the week. I really need to ask when I’ll get my check.