“See that?” He says, pointing to my watery eyes, “That’s why he needs you.”
Clearing his throat, he goes on with his story. “So, Twitch decides he’s with me. I lowered my shank and we became friends in a second flat. There’s a trust there between us. I can’t really explain it. We were both kids, but I was curious and felt I had to ask him. So I did. I asked him why he was so angry. He told me when he was eight, his step-daddy tried to kill him. Choked the life out of him. He was dead for fourteen minutes before they brought him back. Said he had minor brain damage, and some doctors even said that’s where his anger stems from. I told him that he was right to be angry about that. He shook his head and corrected my assumptions. He said, ‘No. I’m angry because I didn’t die.’”
Swirling my chair around, I turn my back to Julius.
It’s a very private moment when your heart breaks. I don’t want him to see. I suddenly wish I was alone.
Breathing through a thick throat, I try in vain to keep the tears at bay.
Julius says, “He thinks of everybody as nobody. If you don’t give up on him, he’ll make you somebody.”
Covering my face with a hand, I feel the warmth of my tears flow over my palm as I listen to my office door open, then close. I think the words I can’t bring myself to say right now.
Thank you, Julius.
Coming home from a night out with Dave and Nikki, I unlock the door to my unit, and as soon as I step inside, I kick my heels off.
I have no idea why we women wear these things.
They’re just modern-day torture devices.
The only reason I wore these was because they were the bright red fancy ones Twitch bought me. To match the tight little black dress that he also bought me. And the red leather clutch and ruby red crystal pendant to match. All on Twitch’s expense.
Yikes.
I’m pretty sure my outfit tonight alone cost around a thousand dollars. Which is ridiculous if you ask me.
I needed a night with my girls. I say that without offence. Dave named himself one of us from the time we were in University together. So much love there.
I’m hungry.
I’m also drunk.
Holding onto the hallway wall for support, I take teeny tiny steps down to my room. Putting on some music, I sing along to Carrie Underwood’s Blown Away. Such a sad song.
“Sad song. I don’t want a sad song. I need something bouncy,” I tell myself.
Teetering on the spot, I point carefully at the buttons and search my playlist. Landing on The Fray’s Love Don’t Lie, I whoop and bounce along to the beat. Reaching onto my dresser for my hair brush, I brush through the bird’s nest that is my hair and think back on the night.
I met Dave and Nikki at the bar and sat on a rickety stool exchanging kisses and hugs. We spoke about what we got up to during the week, what was new and our relationships. Which was just weird, because it went a little like this…
I told them, “Everything with Twitch is good right now. He’s complicated and all, but he’s different with me. He treats me well. He likes to spoil me and I’m loving him more every day. So it’s going well, I guess.”
Nikki and Dave smiled sweetly at me. I’m so glad my friends are behind me on this. It matters so much to me.
Then Dave looked at Nikki and uttered, “How do you think things are going with Happy?”
She shrugged. “Good. I guess. The sex is bangin’, and I know he likes women, but…” She grinned up at Dave. “…I like watching Dave and him together. It’s hot.”
Dave nudged her playfully. “Naww, thanks babe. I like watching you guys fuck too. Pussy isn’t my cup of tea, but watching anyone get off is hot.”
I gaped at their strange choice of conversation.
Nikki giggled, “Oh, I especially like when he…” She leaned closer to Dave and whispered something into his ear. Dave bit his lip before muttering, “I like that too.”
Raising my arm to match my brows, I hailed a bartender and placed an order, “I need about eleventeen cocktails to erase the last five minutes of fucked-up-ness. What would you suggest?”
Nikki and Dave just smirked like a couple of cats that got the cream while I squirmed.
We drank. And talked. And drank some more.
Then the conversations turned to things more my speed.
Dave slurred, “You know what’s a weird word?” Nikki and I waited with baited breath.
“Pants. Why are the plural? Yes, there are two legs but it’s only one piece of clothing. It’s a pant for chrissake!”
Murmurs of approval went around. That’s when I asked, “I don’t like that. It’s the same thing with Weetbix. Why is a single one called a Weetbix? It’s a Weetbik if it’s one, right?”
Dave sipped on his cocktail, nodding. “This is why we’re friends.”
Nikki slapped the bar in excitement. “I got one! Why are they called scissors then?”
Dave and I gave her our best mind blown looks and nodded in agreement.
I love my friends.