Good Girl - A Short Story Collection by Marjorie Huot by Marjorie Huot

TABLE OF CONTENTS

I KNOW WHAT YOUâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;RE THINKING...

THIS IS ME TRYING

BLACK SHEEP

I know what youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re thinking...

2 years ago If my eyes weren’t glued to my phone the entire night. I think the story of how we met would’ve ended differently. It wouldn’t have even begun. Those eyes that watched me as I entered the room would be turned away in disgust but instead, I had to be intrigued by this menacing man. He was lucky that he had an average looking face and knew how to leave a lasting impression on others. That’s woefully an easy way to sweep someone off their feet. He sat rather too close to me. “I’m sorry… I’m late. I’ll get the next round.” I didn’t look up initially because… well I don’t know him. I continued to scroll down my feed to see if there were any funny memes to like as I waited for my friends to come back from the bathroom. They were likely doing a little pee dance in the line for the women’s restroom in the club because… for some reason there’s always a line for the women’s room… and the wait times were adjacent to entering the Haunted Mansion at Disneyland. Unpredictably short or long. One may never know but it’s a risk worth taking anyway. It wasn’t until the 10th time, I refreshed my Instagram feed that the same few posts were popping up over and over again. What? Nobody wants to be posting their thirst traps or engagement announcements at 11pm on a Friday night? Come on Wallaby County, I know I’m not the only one aimlessly scrolling online looking for some sappy post made by some girl from high school about how her toxic military husband is #RelationshipGoals. My feed was so dead, I ended up opening my Venmo feed! As if I gave a damn that my friends are sending the same $20 to pay for their WiFi bills! “Someone’s a little preoccupied.” He perched over my shoulder. There was nothing alluring about this but somehow it worked for him. Maybe it was his perfectly coiffed hair like he was Timothee Chalamet: a gaunt, kinda hot, kinda not, but mysterious so it was kinda sexy… persona that made me almost forget how offputting he was. Lucky him. I didn’t roll my eyes immediately when I looked up at him. “How was your day?” “I’m sorry… do I know you?” I cocked my head in disgust. He shrugged. “Not yet.” Bold. I rolled my eyes. “What’s your angle?” I placed my hand over my drink and clicked my phone to go to sleep. The better look I got, I noticed his ID and debit card was in one hand, tapping the counter, likely some debonair who thinks he can sway me with free alcohol. But being a woman comes with these anxiety ridden rituals to ensure I am not getting murdered tonight. So no, mildly cute tall boy, you’re not getting laid tonight because that’s on my oh-no-no’s list: going home with a strange man I met at a bar/club. If I even dare to leave the club with this man, I know I will become the next Crime Junkies story that Ashley Flowers will discuss on her podcast. “I’ll leave the bullshit for the online dating profile.” Oh, so he knows he’s not shit. “You’re cute. Alone. I thought why not shoot my shot?” He shrugged. “Alone? That’s a very serial killer like observation.” I joked. “I mean you’re still talking to me…” He said. “It’s either this or answer work emails so… if my friends ever get to take a piss, you have all the time in the world.” I laughed. He looked down at my drink, “So how do I go from serial killer to friendly stranger?” “Maybe a name could help.” I suggested. “Chris.” He put his hand out for a handshake like we were about to make a business deal or something.

My hand met his and I grinned, “Alita.” “Like Battle Angel Alita?” “Actually, yes.” I was taken aback that he knew that reference, “My mom saw the name on one of my dad’s mangas in his book collection and thought, “That’s a pretty name” so that’s how I got my name.” “That’s really cool. I wish my parents named me after a dope cyborg.” He said. “Like what? Terminator?” I joked. “You’d turn a lot of heads at Starbucks if that was your name.” I almost forgot that Cassie and Rhiannon were there the day we met. The only people that seemed to be there were the people cutting in between us to order a drink from the bartender. He tried to get me to go home with him and in the moment, it seemed enticing but I couldn’t… I came here with my friends. I’m leaving with my friends. May I reiterate that my oh-no-no’s list would absolutely reprimand me into the afterlife if I get murdered by this man. I knew Cass and Rhi had to be done in the restroom eventually, they were blowing up my phone with their replay of our interaction like they were the hosts of SportsCenter or something. It got to a point where it looked like my cellphone was on vibrator mode because it was receiving text after text. “Are you going to get that?” Chris pointed down at my phone.

Rhi: Let’s go bb. Cass: Not to be a cockblock, but I’m ready to go too. Rhi: Pack it up or wrap it up, my dude.

“I think my friends are eager to go.” I laughed. “I almost forgot you were here with people.” Chris put his hand on top of mine, caressing the back of my hand with his thumb. It was a small but comforting gesture that the next thing I did was hand him my phone to put his number in. He had this little chagrin smile on his face. Almost like he was flattered that I could ask but embarrassed that I beat him to the punch. “Don’t forget about me.” He chuckled. I shrugged, “We’ll see.” ***

3 months ago Maybe the intention had changed… my legs would tremble in his presence but not in a seductive sexy way... like how his hand around my neck had some sort of allure. At first, it felt like he was taking care of me or something… His demeanor changed. I could tell I wasn’t the only one who noticed something off. I don’t think anyone was as keen about it as I was but I just wanted to ignore it, so I made excuses because I didn’t want to acknowledge the answers that were prevalent. My friends would always call out shit that does not add up or make sense whether or not they know what they’re talking about. So it’s worth asking because I’m helpless by myself. “That’s a bit odd.” Cassie aggressively mixed the mint and bean sprouts into her Phở Đặc Biệt before squeezing the life out of a lime so it could have a zesty kick. “Could you pass the garlic chili, Rhi?” Rhiannon placed the sauce carousel in between Cassie and Joey. “Yeah, that just doesn’t sound good.”

I already didn’t like what I was hearing but I needed validation since I loved to invalidate my own feelings. “Right? But maybe I’m just assuming shit I don’t know.” I looked over at Joey, waiting for his input. Maybe it’s classless to expect your significant other’s best friend to chime in. But I think his body language could tell me more than his own words. “I don’t know what to say, Alita.” Joey shrugged, “He’s been kinda M.I.A. with me too lately.” “It’s like he’s Jekyll and Hyde or something.” I elaborated. “But I don’t think he’s really tapped into the bad side yet. But I can tell in his tone, whatever secrets he’s hiding from me… there’s just something off.” Joey sipped his Boba tea and nodded, “Yeah, I don’t really think I know what’s going on with him either. He’s fine one minute and the next - I don’t know what to say.” Maybe I’m just overthinking the situation or something. I had dropped the subject. If Rhiannon heard more, she would start to hate Chris and I wouldn’t want that. He’s a great guy and maybe he’s just going through something bigger than us. It would be nice to figure out how I could get back to that sweet Honeymoon phase we were in a few months ago. It’s not like he stopped showering me with affection and his support never faltered. But something was just... off? I don’t even know how to start that conversation with him because what if I’m wrong? He comes home, doesn’t even want to eat or stay up to hang out with me anymore. It’s just a kiss goodnight and he turns over on his side of the bed and turns out the light now. His usual calm tone has all of a sudden integrated a more annoyed and defensive tone. Almost like he knows he’s guilty of something… or maybe I’m just making it up in my head. The waitress came between Cass and Joey to drop off our receipt and refill our waters one last time. I didn’t even bother to look, I just dropped my credit card down on the pile of cards. If I didn’t distract my mind to something else, I would just wonder about Chris and what’s going on in my world. I could see the kitchen staff through the tiny window behind the bar counter. Slyly disguised by the Lucky Bamboo plants that framed the window, I noticed the tiles were a pattern of different shades of green. One of the shades was similar to Chris’ Fender stratocaster guitar, I’d often catch him playing when I’d come over to his apartment. Every time an order was almost ready, the bowls would line up on the counter of that kitchen window. From my peripherals, I could see that everybody was starting to get up. I spotted the clock above the kitchen window, it was nearly 9:45pm. Chris would be home by now, maybe he would want to see me before he went to bed? God, I hoped so. We left the restaurant and filed into Cass’ soccer mom van. Joey was implicit in having the aux cord tonight, I think it’s because he’s just tired of listening to Clairo and Taylor Swift’s Folklore on repeat. The first beat of Tame Impala’s “The Less I Know The Better” put me into some sort of deja vu bliss. It reminded me of Chris and I’s first date, the arcade we were in started playing the same and he grabbed my hand to dance. I was unaware that Tame Impala wasn’t a band and he made sure I knew that it was just one guy named Kevin Parker. A few months passed and he took me to a Tame Impala concert, I remember watching him carry drinks back and forth from our seats throughout the night. Unfortunately, I’m quite the lightweight so it got to a point where he had to spend about $25 in water bottles for me. But that hot dog he bought for me that night was incredibly delicious from what I remember… but I know it will never be up to par as it was that night because the SDSU concession stand food was rancid. I looked down at my phone for the first time in an hour and saw no notifications. Not even a text from Chris which was becoming a new normal. It bothered me that I wanted to text him, I couldn’t go cold turkey like how some of my friends would try to advise. I just needed to know where we stood.

Alita: Heading home. Can I come over? Chris: Going to bed soon.

He’s losing interest in me… I just know it.

Alita: Tomorrow? Chris: That wasn’t a no. Alita: :)

Nevermind. I always go into panic mode. I pulled myself up from the seat to speak to Cass, my seatbelt hugged my body tightly, “Do you mind if you drop me off at Chris’?” I asked Cass. “Yeah, we’ll go right now.” Cassie replied. “You think everything between you two is ok?” Joey asked. I didn’t want to respond because it would have killed my vibe. It made me happy that Chris wanted to see me. His place was only a few blocks away so we got there quite quickly. We said our goodbyes and I quickly shut the door behind me to head up to his apartment. He always unlocked the door for me if I was coming so it would just be easier for me to go straight to his bedroom. “Hey”, Chris smiled. He sat his PS4 controller onto the bed and stood up to give me a kiss on the cheek, “How was dinner?” “Good. It would’ve been better if you were there.” I lied. I placed my bag onto his gaming chair and made a place for myself onto his bed. “You know I had work.” Chris scratched his eyes. His hair was perfectly coiffed, it looked exactly how it would if he was about to leave the house, not get ready for bed. I didn’t want to question it. I didn’t want to fight or find out I was wrong, I was being crazy. But if he was ready for bed, he wouldn’t be playing Apex Legends right now. He always told me video games before bed meant it would be a long night. ***

Yesterday “He was like, ‘Turn around’ and he was on one knee and I just said ‘Yes!’” I exclaimed, “I didn’t even need to think about it.” “Well, that’s her simplified version of it.” Chris chuckled, his arm was around my shoulder and his Jack and Coke glass laid lightly on my breast. He’d often leaned over to take a sip which I was distracting but almost comical at how uncomfortably awkward it was. It was like he wanted to keep me close but his drink was a little closer. At least I’m in the same league as Jack Daniels. “She squealed so loud, I think a glass almost broke.” “He’s exaggerating.” I chimed in. Placing my hand, where his hand was clutching tightly on his glass. I thought it would be cute to steal a sip of his drink but it was equally as awkward. The taste of a Jack and Coke

was revolting for my taste buds but I was desperate to get a nice little buzz going. Knowing my friends opinions of him have faltered throughout the past few months, I’m sure they have some reservations about the engagement. I always thought my family would be the toughest critics to please for the occasion. But I was embarrassed at the fact that I had to put on a facade for them too. I thought my judgy Asian family would just snicker at the fact that I was marrying yet another white man to this family. But I created my own rumor mill just by my own uncertainties about my relationship. “If anything, it’d be an eardrum.” I snipped. “My pitch is not on par with Ariana Grande.” Chris smirked, “Yeah, she’s remembering it wrong. She cracked some man’s glasses. I think the woodland creatures are thankful they didn’t hear her screeches because I don’t think any of them would have come to her side.” He joked. My jaw dropped and nudged him softly, “Now he’s just being a dick.” Chris smirked and kissed the top of my head, “Your singing isn’t that dreadful.” Curse his wit for always being one step ahead of mine. The night was as typical as any romantic comedy could put it, everyone fawning over the ring, girls being passive aggressive towards their boyfriends for not proposing yet, and both of us guessing whose mom invited who. But those romcoms never show the sleeping baby in the master bedroom and my Asian aunties destroying each other in poker or whatever way they can gamble because they don’t care about my engagement. Chris’ friends called him over and he brushed my cheek with a kiss before following him towards the makeshift beer pong table his Business bros made of our dining table. Nothing says “engagement party” like promoting alcohol poisoning amongst friends and family. *** Somewhere Chris was too preoccupied with half a handle of Hennessey and singing Elton John karaoke with my brother that I had become an easy target for small talk. I didn’t think my brother would have cared to stay for this long but I guess Chris swayed him with however many shots he poured for him. I didn’t get the attitude from my brother that night like I had expected. We simply coexisted which was even better. But if there was anyone willing to rock the boat, it was Rhiannon and that was rather disappointing but not surprising. “Looks like he’s getting along well with the family.” Oh shit, is Rhi being nice for once? “Congrats on promoting another white man into our family.” Or so I thought. Ok, I played myself. It was too good to be true. “Not you, trying to remind me that I’m disappointing our ancestors when you failed Pre-Algebra, twice.” I quipped. “You know I love you, Alita.” Rhiannon said. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.” I crossed my arms. “I thought you liked Chris.” Rhiannon shrugged, “I do. But -” “Besides, if you didn’t want to see me get hurt, you wouldn’t have even uttered that sentence.” I crossed my arms, “I don’t want to do this today, Rhiannon.” I clenched my teeth. “Either enjoy the Egg Roll platter or leave because I don’t want to hear it.” It’s just like her to be such a bitch for no reason. I understood where she was coming from. I mean our Aunts and cousins have married some questionable white men. The type that literally would post on Facebook that “immigrants need to go back to their country” as if my family isn’t composed of immigrants itself ? The ones that act like they know everything about Asian culture all because their wife is Asian. Then do some

ignorant shit like say “Ni hao” to my Grandma when we’re not even fucking Chinese. But Chris passed the test with my family so I don’t get why Rhiannon has all of a sudden become a non-believer in Chris. She’s not happy with some of the stories I told about him. But we got over it. I was most worried my mom would be the judgy one because she would give me the most shit for dating guys who were unemployed or didn’t go to school. But guess what, he has a life sucking corporate job but has a personality that doesn’t revolve around abusing cocaine and thinking their dick was a gift from God. So I’m kind of content about that even if I know my bar has been low enough that it may reach the core of the Earth! I think Chris has raised the bar up to the crust… or even the Ozone layer? I mean, he believes in human rights and when I saw he had a Bernie Sanders sticker on his car, I gasped, “Thank God!” He also respected my wishes to wait a while before we had sex which surprisingly is a lot to ask for as a woman sometimes. So, so be it. This feels right for me. I think he’s the one. “Sorry.” Rhiannon sighed. “I’m really happy for you.” “Doesn’t really seem like it.” I retorted. I hated the way she got under my skin. It’d be nice if she actually gave a damn about me sometime but that’s just her. And I couldn’t expect anything more from it. At least everyone else here is pleasurable to be around. I mean, beside my Aunts with no filter breaking someone’s self-esteem. I would say tonight has been a success. I didn’t bother to talk to Rhiannon the rest of the night. I think Chris picked up on it because I didn’t spend my night entertaining Cass and her. He read me like a book sometimes and I hated it. I didn’t want him to know I was upset but he knew. “What’s wrong?” He asked. “I got in a fight with Rhi.” Chris rolled his eyes. He always knew Rhi and I often butted heads. Especially about him. “I told you it was a bad idea if she came here.” “She’s one of my best friends and we’re related, she was gonna get invited even if we didn’t do it anyway.” I reminded him. Chris wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my forehead. “It’s ok. Tonight is about us. Not her. So all her bitching can be put to rest.” I grinned, “I love you.” “I love you too.” He smiled. The rest of the night went pretty smoothly, my parents got a little too carried away with the alcohol so I left my own party early to drive them home since my brother had left early. I’m not sure how the party ended but I knew as soon as I’d come back, we’d have to clean up the mess everyone left behind. Knowing us, we might just let it sit for the night and the next morning we’d get to cleaning. ***

That Morning Not even deep breathing could calm me down. The sight I saw... I wished I never did. The crimson stained walls were slowly browning… Chris was scrubbing the floors as if he was doing a deep cleaning of the grime of the grout between our tiles… his demeanor put me in awe. He was so…. calm? What the -

“Hey! Do you mind helping out a little?”A scarlett mark was made across his forehead as he wiped away his sweat. Is he serious? Am I dreaming? “What are you doing?” I asked. “Babe, what do you think I’m doing?” Chris shrugged in a comedic manner. He was so unbothered. I was about to become sick. Did he think he was being cute or something? I just came home to a fucking crime scene and he’s like “babe, come help clean?!” “Who is that? What… I -” The words couldn’t come out because honestly, what is the most appropriate way to react? I thought I was living this cute quaint life where I enjoyed SoulCycle and a boutique coffee at 5am in the morning. But no, my boyfriend is calm, cool, and collected about the murder scene in our home like he’s Ted fucking Bundy. Wow, I guess, I need to call and apologize to my therapist who told me I attract sociopaths in my life because holy shit, I clearly did. Chris pulled the rubber gloves off, he walked over to our sink and washed his hands. Wiped them thoroughly on a paper towel before walking towards me. He cupped my face but I couldn’t move away, “Hey, why don’t you just meet me in our bedroom. I’ll clean this all up and we can talk about it, ok?” In some odd, trancelike state, I nodded and obeyed. Dragging my feet up the stairs, stripping myself out of the slinky black engagement dress I had splurged at Bergdorf Goodman and into an oversized Urban Outfitters tee. I turned around in our shared closet, grazing his shirts with my fingertips as if I had just lost someone… and in a sense, I did. The person I romanticized in my mind. Who played the part of Prince Charming so well and now I’m fucking terrified of what I may have gotten myself into. And then I had lost the person whose blood is stained on my fiance’s forehead. The idea of knowing this was someone I know only made me want to run myself back to the toilet to face the nausea that was pent up since I had come home. The tears couldn’t come out but I knew they were deep down inside of me, maybe in the pits of my stomach where the dead butterflies lay. There was no comfort in laying in our shared bed, it felt like Heaven but also radiated like the hot heat of Hell. The only thing that could help was braiding the fringe on the throw blanket on our bed that gave me some peace. The moment I heard the door creek, I couldn’t move an inch. It was like my fate was cemented because I knew I wouldn’t leave and that’s what frightened me the most. Not the scene that will forever be burnt inside my memory, but the fact that I think maybe I could fix him. Chris stretched before joining me in bed, wrapping his arms around me, suffocating me into being his little spoon and it kind of made me feel ok. What the Hell? Kissing my cheek softly, and caressing my hair. “Do you want to watch a movie?” He asked so nonchalantly. It’s literally 3am? I’m not sure what I saw and I don’t think a lighthearted comedy will calm me down! I wanted to see through his eyes, scoop his brain out, and place it into mine and so I could make sense of all of this. But nothing was making any sense. He was so unbothered which bothered me. “What did you do?” I asked. I closed my eyes and weighed my cheek onto the crevice of his arm. “I just cleaned up the kitchen.” No shit. “But the blood…” I said, “It was everywhere.” “I just dropped some hot sauce.” Liar! Our kitchen would look like the Jersey Shore cast’s tanning salon if that statement was true. “Did you kill someone?” I asked.

I felt Chris’ body move under from me and I turned around to face him finally. “Do you not trust me?” His tone shifted. What does this have to do about trust? It’s not like someone just left a dead body in our home for us to find like a scavenger hunt. “I don’t know if I feel safe knowing that you might have killed someone.” I said. Chris rolled his eyes, “Are you kidding me? You’re acting crazy.” “I came home and you’re cleaning up blood!” I said, “And I’m acting crazy?” “I told you, it was hot sauce.” Lies! Chris sat up and began to stand over me. The lighting in the room casted a shadow on his face making him look more sinister than I had remembered his face. “I didn’t do anything and it really upsets me that you would think that.” What else could I say? I knew something didn’t feel right but I innately just wanted to believe him. But how would you explain what I saw? Was I going crazy or something? “What happened down there? I just don’t understand… I -” “You’re getting all riled up over nothing and it really hurts my feelings that you could assume the worst for me. You didn’t even want to help me.” Chris began to unbutton his stained shirt. “I’m going to take a shower. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” The shirt fell on the floor as he walked towards our bathroom, shutting it softly but I knew he was upset. I grabbed my phone and keys and headed down the stairs. My plan was uncertain, but I knew I needed to get out of these. Could I have been wrong? I just wanted to know why? Who or what was that? What’s going on? But maybe I wanted to be comforted by the idea that the Chris I thought I knew still existed and maybe he was right, I’m just assuming shit I don’t know. Maybe it is hot sauce on the walls or something? I don’t know but I don’t want to believe it’s blood. I couldn’t see what was underneath those sheets that hid a body-sized object underneath it. I guess I wanted to know what might be down there even though I know he must have taken care of it already. I tiptoed down the stairs and entered into the kitchen which looked nothing like how it did when I left to go drop off my parents and when I came home 3 hours later. It was all gone, the floors and walls were clean. No sheets on the floor covering up God knows what. It was quite validating to see it with my own eyes. Maybe I was hallucinating or something. It was a long day accompanied with an even longer night. I grabbed a coconut water from the fridge to relieve myself from all the stress I put myself under. I was seeing things, it’s late. It happens. Chris isn’t a murderer, that would be ridiculous. I was all riled up over nothing just like Chris had said. I walked towards the trash can to throw out the coconut water I had crushed to find Rhi’s wallet and keys at the top of the pile.

THIS IS ME TRYING Inspired by the love triangle of Betty, Inez, and James from Taylor Swiftâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Folklore album.

Cameron She smiled from ear to ear whenever she’d see my car pull up to the curb of the back entrance of her work. No matter how many times she’d been in my car, she’d remain shocked that I’d lock the door as soon as she’d grasp the handle. She was always so determined to beat the lock, it was my favorite source of entertainment. She often said it was embarrassing since her coworkers would sometimes see her fussing around getting into the car as they entered work. But I found it quite adorable and I think she thought it was kinda funny too. “You’re the worst.” Sadie slammed the door. Out of habit - not spite. For some ungodly reason, she learned this habit to close the door like she needed to let the whole world she was leaving. Like clockwork, she moved the jacket I kept on the passenger seat into her lap, placed my wallet into the cup holder, and buckled in. “I got you something.” Sadie revealed a little enamel pin referencing a scene from The Office, my favorite show. Sadie loved collecting little knick knacks from BoxLunch during her lunches at her job. It was kind of her way of letting me know, she cares about the shit I like. Not sure what was going on in my mind that day, I dropped her home instead of taking her back to my apartment like always. Celeste was always bothering me to hang outside of work and I couldn’t say no anymore. Even Sadie asked me to cancel my plans so we could spend the rest of the day together but she never would beg, she respected that my time was mine. The moment I told her, “Get out, kid”, she rolled her eyes, kissing my cheek before entering her apartment, I already fucked up. There was nothing that Celeste added to my life besides the thrill of sneaking around. That thrill dies quickly when the anxiety kicks in. It started with the dismissal of the truth. Not inherently a lie but I never corrected Celeste. She simply assumed Sadie and I were broken up. She’d always lean over in her low cut tops, smacking her gums while telling me about some customer giving her hell at returns. We often would spend our shifts goofing off, innocently flirting with each other. It wasn’t a good luck on my part when Sadie would sometimes visit me at work. She always narrowly missed Celeste who was always clocked out by the time Sadie would make her late night runs at my work. I climbed up the stairs of her apartment complex, entering a dimly lit studio where she greeted me with Pabst Blue Ribbon and Kaytranada playing in the background. We sat at the edge of her bed until the awkwardness caught up with us. I knew I shouldn’t have been there. I remembered the color of the dress Celeste wore but I couldn’t tell you if Sadie wore jeans or a skirt that day. The fun had passed after undressing and defiling one another because there was a reality check waiting for me once I was done being an asshole. Celeste had her arm on my chest, resting quietly as I stared at the ceiling. My days were numbered. Celeste and I spoke less and less at work which I knew only made her resent me for sleeping with her. I began to see her less at work which made it easier - I believe she changed her schedule. I wouldn’t blame her because at least she has the balls to acknowledge I’m an asshole. It took me a month and a half to finally tell Sadie - actually, I didn’t even tell her… her friends told her! Her roommate knew Celeste and told her all about

this guy at her work who fucked her and ghosted her. She put it all together instantly and now Celeste and Sadie have each other while I have nothing. Just unreplied messages from Sadie who doesn’t want anything to do with me. But… I’m gonna text her again to let her know I’m sorry because I am sorry. I just want her to know that I didn’t want to hurt her.

Celeste He looked right through me. Like he had never seen my breast, felt the way my lips would cushion against his… He was just another boy - too good to be true, too wicked to keep their word. Was I a boring person to be around? Was the sex that bad? I thought Cam and I were friends… I thought he liked me! Clearly not. He acted like he didn’t even know me. I said, “Hey!” and he nodded at me. No remarks came out of his mouth as he passed by me. I was literally being ghosted in real life and at my own job. Did I make up the slow burn romance I thought we had formed? I can’t believe I did it again. Made myself so available for someone who doesn’t give a shit that now I feel like shit. “You good, Ce?” Nat asked. She was loading up go-backs into a cart behind me. I shook my head no. “Do you wanna talk about it?” She asked. “If we talk about it, you can’t tell anyone.” I replied. “I promise.” Nat and I interlocked pinkies. “Cam and I hooked up.” I blurted, “He hasn’t spoken to me since and I feel like shit.” “Oh no.” Nat said. “I know right.” I groaned. “No… Cam has a girlfriend.” Nat said. “No they broke up like a month or two ago…” I corrected her. Nat grabbed her phone from her pocket and began scrolling through her Instagram following list. She tapped on Cameron’s profile to search for images of this alleged girlfriend - I had sworn no longer existed. Sadie Lafferty. I had seen him with her many times before. I spotted her a few times at the store while leaving my shifts. But I just thought of her as a regular customer, not someone visiting their boyfriend… their shitty boyfriend. No wonder he’s not speaking to me. He thinks he can sleep with me and still reap the benefits of being a dodding boyfriend? Of course. What else would he do? Come clean? No. No one is noble enough to admit they’re wrong - especially a man. “You know she lives with Elise...” Nat said. I hadn’t heard that name since high school, we used to run in the same circle of friends. Carpools, parties… we were always running into each other. We were never that close but we got along well. “Are you sure they’re together?” I asked. Nat shook her head yes. “Yeah they are. She brings him Starbucks sometimes while he’s at work. I’m sorry, Ce.” It all made sense. Cameron never denied her existence but he’d speak to me like she didn’t exist. He’d always text me at kind of odd hours and wouldn’t even accept my follower requests. Everything I thought was

suspicious was warranted but I was too busy chasing a feeling that he could never satisfy because he doesn’t want to.

Sadie

It was embarrassing to say the least. The little box was wrapped nicely with a bow on top. What a delicate detail to add to show that he could actually put in some effort though he has already missed his chance. Elise found it on our porch, she brought it in, and it has sat in the middle of our dining table for the past few days. She reminds me of it like I want to be reminded that Cameron is living and breathing on this Earth. I think she just wants to know what’s inside because if I didn’t like it, she could have it. But anything from Cameron would not remedy what once was. “Are you ever gonna open it?” Elise pointed her spoonful of Talenti towards the wretched gift. I shook my head no, “You can if you want.” I stood up from the dining table, “Whatever it is, it doesn’t change anything.” “Aren’t you curious what it is?” Elise asked. “I am.” I admitted. Cam was always very thoughtful when it came to gifts. I knew I’d like it. But I don’t like him anymore, “But… whether or not I like it… I know it would just make me feel like I owe something to him and I don’t. He made his choice and I need to stop rewarding him with my forgiveness.” Elise snapped her fingers in support. “We stan a woman who knows her worth.” “I’m gonna go to bed. You can keep whatever it is. Just… I don’t want to know what it is because as soon as I know, I’m going to overthink everything and I wonder if I’m in the wrong…” “Yeah, no worries. I’m sorry for asking.” Elise said. “It’s ok. Goodnight.” I replied. “Night.” Elise echoed. I closed the door behind me and stood in my room for a minute. It had been four months but for some reason, Cameron felt like he was entitled to still be a part of my life. Like having history meant that I owed him access to my world because he’s hurting without me, ignoring the fact that he hurt my feelings too. My phone would often buzz from time to time during the first few weeks that I decided it would be best to mute my notifications - blocking seemed too cruel. But I’m being too kind, he didn’t seem to care so why should I? My friends worry - they knew what Cam meant to me and at one point thought we were destined together. They never really saw me take a break up so well because naturally, I fall apart just like how Post Malone would put it. I think I’m just tired, like I’m out of service of being that girl who is “too nice” and “so forgiving” as my friends put it. Sometimes, I wish Cam was like all the other boys before who didn’t give a fuck about me. But somehow he’s worst because he’s trying to act like he gives a fuck about me. I don’t really think he misses me as much as he thinks he does because… to put it in layman’s terms: if he wanted to be with me, he would. I couldn’t recreate the serotonin I’d get before if I forgave him, it’s been replaced with nothing but disdain and disappointment. Every thought I previously had for him and currently have for him are filed somewhere else in my brain because the more I entertain it, I’d become lost in the chaos of the pain he caused. I do sometimes wonder why he did it, I think about if I deserved it, I wonder if he really meant anything he had said before.

Then as soon as I finally get over those feelings, he reappears again like he’s a fucking Pokemon delaying my adventure for a battle while I’m just trying to get to the next town in my video game! He no longer gave me peace like he would before, it was like he tried to compensate for his shortcomings and it’s like… why now?! I’m not quite sure when he’ll feel like enough is enough. There’s not really any other words to say because sorry is not good enough. People will say “I care so much about you” and “I didn’t want to hurt you” but that’s no excuse nor is it an apology. Am I supposed to feel better hearing that? For my own sanity, it’d just be nicer to be left alone than to wonder what was in that little box.

Black Sheep

Chapter One It’s not often I find myself distracted by customers at the bookshop. Usually, it’s some pre-teens being a little too loud browsing through the YA section or some pretentious hipster camping out by the Chuck Palahaniuk section. But I never bother to say a word outside of the script my managers expect me to say while checking out and helping anyone who bothers me on my 6 hour shifts. Today was different, I met a girl - it’s always a girl. She was different and it was love at first sight, yada yada yada. The door swung open and filed in was a family of about 10? 12? I couldn’t care to count. They were dressed somewhat uniformly, the girls wore a tee and maxi skirt or long sleeved midi dress. While the boys seemingly were more on the trend of khakis and flannels. The younger kids dispersed into the back of the store where the childrens books were. While some of the older girls started to walk towards the coffee shop. The last one to have walked in was her. She had these piercing clear blue eyes that were cupped by the shape of her long brunette hair. She was dressed like the rest of her sister’s but it was clear she had more taste in fashion than the others by how modern she looked compared to her siblings that looked like they came out of a 2004 Old Navy catalogue. “Oh no. It’s the Von Trapp family.” Harmony joked. “Don’t be rude.” I snapped. “You of all people are telling me not to be rude?” Harmony rolled her eyes. “That’s rich.” You love to make snap judgments about others.” “They’re just a regular family.” I shrugged. “No they’re not.” Harmony rolled her eyes. “What? Do you know them?” I asked. “They’re the poster children of the Fundamentalist Cult Community in this town.” She said as if I were to know what she was talking about. “Fundamentalist cult?” “It’s like this new age way of abusing your child and veiling it as good parenting. My Uncle was all about it, he swore by those child training books until he realized it was all bullshit and he was doing more harm than good. They have these crazy strict rules and disguise it as God’s way.” Harmony rolled her eyes, “It’s like an elitism guise for overprotective religious parents. They prey on people’s fears and those who get out are usually the ones who line my therapist’s office waiting room. You think I’m being judgey but… they’d see my blue hair and nose piercing and whisper as they walk away.” “Are they all like that though?” I replied. “I mean, I grew up Catholic but now I’m not.” “It’s different with them. Their lifestyle and community breeds like minded people. If they were to go against it, they’d just get married.” Harmony shrugged. “So you’re saying those older girls are single then…” I asked. Harmony laughed, “You have to be kidding me.” “What?” I asked. “Those girls are either looking for husbands or being saved.” Harmony warned, “You’re going to be stuck whacking off in your twin bed before you get a chance to touch the Virgin Mary.”

“Oh come on. You act like they don’t have a mind of their own.” I groaned. I picked up a stack of books from behind the cashier and placed them on the go-backs cart to avoid anymore of Harmony’s disapproval and to possibly bump into this “Von Trapp” girl. Harmony clearly knows more about what their cult is all about - seeing it from the perspective of how it affected her Uncle’s family. But these kids look normal, healthy, and well socialized that it can’t be that bad, right? Religion isn’t a bad thing, it’s only the extremists who use the word of God as an excuse for their hate who give Religion a bad name. Aisle after aisle, I looked for the girl with those piercing blue eyes. Nowhere near the religion books nor the children’s section where her siblings were grabbing toys off the shelves and not putting them back. For a moment, I thought maybe she had left or gone somewhere else with the older kids in her family. But there she was at the end of the Biography section, pulling out with Rosemary Kennedy on the cover. “Hey.” I yelped awkwardly, “Uh - d-do you need any help finding anything?” I approached one of the girls, she had long brunette hair, sprawling through titles in the biography section. “I’m okay but thank you.” She smiled sweetly, she flipped the back of the book and began to read the synopsis of the Rosemary Kennedy biography. “Into the Kennedy curse?” I asked. “More curious than a fan.” She replied, “I feel like if I read about crazy families, it’ll make me feel a little bit more normal.” Someone’s self-aware. “Strict parents?” I asked. She nodded, “I’m not even sure if they’d let me get this book.” My eyebrow raised, should I abort mission if she’s too young. She didn’t look any younger than maybe 20. “I hope you don’t mind me asking but how old are you?” “I’m 21.” She said. “Oh.” Thank God… “Well it’s historical so maybe that will convince them into letting you have it.” “Is that weird?” She asked. “My parents having to approve what I read” “I’ve never really dealt with that except for maybe my mom disapproving video games that I wanted as a kid...” I shrugged. “But I mean I have friends that have strict parents who are your age and can’t go out sometimes because their parents said they can’t.” She smiled. “You don’t have to be nice. I just wanted to know the truth.” She tucked the book underneath her armpit and looked down at my nametag, “I appreciate it Danny.” “And you are?” I asked. “Lily.” She held the book to her chest. “Are you this friendly to all of the customers?” “No.” I honestly answered, “Absolutely not. I don’t bother unless my manager is watching me.” I laughed. She turned her head, making sure none of her family members were nearby. “So why me?” It was obvious she was quite the force: she was flirty - clearly liked the attention I was giving her. So it was worthy shooting my shot instead of backing out and pretending I didn’t ignore everything Harmony warned me about. “I mean I - uh I thought you are very beautiful” I stammered, “and I’d like to get to know you.” “Really?” She seemed shocked that I’d offered. “Do you have a pen and paper?” She asked. “Yeah?” I was puzzled by her eagerness. But I went around the corner to grab some receipt paper and a pen.

“This is my number. Text me. Don’t call unless I say it’s ok.” She said. “Also don’t say it’s Danny… My parents sometimes look through our text messages and they can’t know I’m talking to a boy.” She asked. “Yeah… sure? I’ll message you when I get off work tonight.” I stuffed the receipt paper in my back pocket. I didn’t bother questioning it, Harmony already explained to me her parents were uber strict so I could only imagine how dating must be for her. I’ve never met a girl so eager to give me her number so quickly. Usually, I learn what her zodiac sign is before I find out those 10 numbers. Time couldn’t pass soon enough. Harmony’s teasing only made me want my shift to be over. She kept making jokes about my future baby shower when I barely could take care of a hamster for a week. Her knowledge of this alleged cult, Lily is a part of spanned more than what I could have imagined. It seemed fictitious and I was wary that Harmony was bluffing. She just wanted to psych me out because nothing gives her more joy than white CIS male failure. It’s not like there was anything worthwhile to do after my shift. Even if I fall flat on my feet, there are a plethora of women on Tinder waiting to be disappointed by me as well.

Chapter Two About a week passed before we were able to see each other again. We’d been texting non-stop, she was smart, different, and sad. She’d often tell me how she felt alone in her busy household, only really feeling close to one of her siblings who also seemed like the odd one out. Her parents didn’t let her get the Kennedy book but I gifted it as an eBook for her to read on her phone. They were more interested in pushing some “Self-Love is toxic” book on her that her sister picked out. Than any of the books she wanted to read. She finished it quite quickly, appalled by the lack of humanity her family had for her. Rosemary’s life ended by being lobotomized and institutionalized. She expressed fears for her sister, Daisy - not that her parents would lobotomize her. I don’t think anybody goes to the lengths of lobotomizing loved ones for being crazy anymore? Lily seemed concerned that her parents would find out about Daisy’s sexuality and would want to fix her. She said there were some kids she knew in their church who went to conversion camp and therapy and how they’ve never been the same. Some continued to live by the word of their preacher or ex-communicated. Lily said a boy she grew up with died by suicide because of his parents sending him back and forth to different conversion camps. She cried throughout the whole funeral because at the time, Daisy had confessed to her that she thinks she might like girls. It’s a secret only she knows in her family because she says some of her siblings aren’t as understanding and if they aren’t, they’re not good at keeping secrets. Their parents’ minds have been made up since they had their first child and it was only cemented by the following 11 children that were conceived afterwards. “It’s the way”, Lily often repeated the rhetoric of her church. It’s the way and it’s the only way. But it wasn’t the way of life she wanted to live any longer. Lily didn’t want to end up like her sister Acacia who already had 4 kids under 5 and was already planning on having a 5th child. As she got older, the pressure of marriage and bearing children was more prominent. Her dad was trying to marry her off with other boys within their church but she refused. She said her dad was more “passive aggressive” than forceful about her courtships. Her older siblings were more compliant, usually finding a liking towards the opposite sex at their church at an early age, making it easier for their families to pair them off. Her eldest siblings have already blessed their family with 8 grandchildren already. All eyes have been pointed towards her and her other 3 sisters who are next in line to be betrothed. But Lily’s ambitions spanned beyond her parents’ expectations of her. She dreamed of the big city, being surrounded by love that wasn’t obligatory, and pursuing higher education. Things that are so normal and human that surprisingly, she was never exposed to or really allowed to express without criticism. Lily thought about her plan thoroughly in order to make our date happen. She told her parents that she was going into town with her sister Daisy to visit their friends and spend the day shopping. When really they were both going on dates. “It makes it easier having an accomplice and an alibi”, she said. She was complicated but for some reason it was kind of intriguing to have someone who would go through such lengths to feel normal. She said Daisy’s girlfriend has been really understanding about her circumstances. She often poses as just a friend when she visits and as nice as it is to have time together at their home, they never can get any privacy. So Lily and Daisy had started to lie a few days of the week to live normal lives before 6 pm - just in time for family dinner. We agreed to meet at a coffee shop parking lot. Unbeknownst to me, I was parked beside Daisy’s girl-

friend Kaylie. The girls arrived, dressed as matronly as I remembered on that first day. Her sister had curly brunette hair, she quickly took her top off, revealing a layering tank top underneath. Running towards her girlfriend to give her a kiss. Lily followed behind, she didn’t grace me with a modest girl strip tease but she did hand me a box of chocolates. Usually, it’s the other way around. “I hope you like See’s Candies. My mom always makes me bring something over to “friends”” Lily laughed. “This is my sister Daisy and her girlfriend Kaylie.” “Hi, I’m Danny.” I shook both of their hands. “Nice to meet you, Danny. Glad to know I’m not the only one a part of the sneaking around club.” Kaylie joked and went in for a hug. “What do you two plan on doing today?” I asked. “What aren’t we gonna do today?” Kaylie looked devilish at Daisy. “Heard you’re taking Lily to her first movie? Sounds cute.” “Yeah…” I replied, “I think she’ll like a nice Pixar movie.” “Oooh!” Kaylie’s eyes grew wide. “I think so too!” “What’s Pixar?” Daisy wrapped her arms around Kaylie from behind. “They make the best animated movies.” Kaylie explained. “Animated?” Daisy stared at her girlfriend blankly. “What would you do without me?” Kaylie pecked Daisy on the lips. “Alright, we’re gonna head out. I’ll see you two love birds at around 5:30 for drop off?” She made it sound like we were parents picking up our children from daycare. The lifestyle they lived fascinated me but also concerned me. How could their parents shelter them the way that they did? At least Daisy and Lily are willing to take it upon themselves to try to be normal. The lying and sneaking around may have been something that was appealing to me when I was 14 but I guess I could give it another go at 23. I was rather good at it back then and this girl is really cute so why not? She needs to get out and see what life has in store for her. I need to go out and see if this will work out for me. Even if it doesn’t, it seems like we are bonding quite well already. During the car ride, she would often pick up things that were scattered at her feet. Questioning what they were like she was Ariel collecting human dohickeys for her collection. “Who is this?” Lily was puzzled by the harsh guitars that introduced the next song on my playlist. “The Dirty Nil.” I replied. “Do you not like it? I can change it.” “No, I love it.” Lily turned the volume knob up, bobbing back and forth to “That’s What Heaven Feels Like”. “The only secular music I know is what my friends outside of the church has shown me but I’ve never heard anything like this.” I chuckled, “Your parents must have been inspired by those anti-Elvis Presley parents in the 60’s.” “I didn’t know he was a singer.” Lily turned red. “I’m so embarrassed.” “Don’t be.” I said, “I still don’t know what Al Gore looks like outside of the SNL impersonation.” Lily stared at me blankly, still missing my references. “Your parents really don’t expose you to what’s going on in the world, huh?” Lily shook her head no. “Unless I find it myself from my late night wikipedia searches. I’m pretty inept on pop culture.”

Clueless but self-aware, she often seemed like her upbringing plagued her with nothing but differentness. I could tell she liked how I spoke to her, she seemed like she was used to feeling like her feelings weren’t important. She was more curious than judgemental, she said some of her siblings are very unforgiving about how others live their lives. While she could care less, she wanted an ounce of normalcy. I think I could give her that. Hopefully she’s like most of America and enjoys a nice lighthearted Pixar movie. She took quite a liking to the surf rock-core playlist I had playing in the background. Asking questions that seemed trivial to anyone who grew up with a knowledge of pop culture. She’d ask,“Is this The Beatles?” no, Lily, this is SWMRS, a punk rock band that hates being acknowledged as Billy Armstrong’s offspring’s band. I had to be patient with her because how was she supposed to know what I know? I put on “Here Comes the Sun” to show her what The Beatles sounded like and she was shocked by how it contrasted from the grunge heap I was playing. I pulled up behind the theater, the walls were lined with movie posters which Lily took a moment to scan them one by one. Asking me if I had seen any of them which I hadn’t… since none of them were out in theaters yet. “Oh my God… they have all this food here?” Lily said. “Yeah… it’s kind of expensive but I need popcorn and a soda to watch a movie. It’s kind of a must.” I laughed, “Do you want anything?” “I think I’m fine with some popcorn.” She smiled, “I can help pay if you’d like.” I shook my head no, “No, no, no. Let me get it. I’m out here to take you on a proper date.” “Thank you.” She grinned. Lily grabbed some napkins and straws as I carried our food as we entered the theater. I had purchased the perfect pair of seats in the middle of the audience that was not too far or too close to the screen. She was in awe that the seats not only recline but heat up her bum. To be honest, I was also marvelled by the technological advancement when our local theater was renovated. She sat quietly during the trailers and movie, she knew that she had to be quiet. Her little reactions were cute. Her cheeks would turn red when our hands crash into each other while grabbing popcorn. She teared up at the end of the movie because she didn’t expect it to be a little sad. Some of the jokes did go over her head but there were some she found just as funny as the rest of the audience. What caught my eye was how she was willing to tidy up not only her mess, but others when the movie was over. She insisted even though I told her there’s people whose job is to clean up after others. But she said, “That’s just taking advantage of others who probably don’t even like cleaning up our mess in the first place.” “I didn’t really expect that to happen.” Lily recalled the movie as we headed back to my car. “Yeah, neither did I. But that’s the exciting part about movies. Just like books, sometimes things that seem like they’re going one way can go a completely different route.” I explained. “I loved it.” Lily said, “Thank you. I’m really glad you took me here tonight.” “You’re welcome.” I smiled. Lily stopped in her tracks as we arrived back to my car. It was getting late, close to 5:30 pm which meant… Cinderella needed to get back to her car. “Do you think you would want to do this again?” Lily asked. I nodded, “Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” “Because I don’t know anything.” She replied.

“Trust me, you know a lot more than some of the people I had graduated high school with.” I reassured her. “You’re not bothered by my curiosity?” She asked nervously. “I would be a dick if I was bothered by your curiosity.” I laughed, “I think you’re sweet and I’d love to help educate you on things you wanna know.” Lily formed a smile from cheek to cheek, “Would it be weird if I wanted to kiss you?” She asked. “I wouldn’t want anything less.” I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her in for what I believed was her first kiss. She shut her eyes and let her soft lips pucker like she had seen others do before. “I hope we can do this more often.” She whispered, leaning in to peck my lips. I do too.

Chapter ??? Mr. Dumont was gaunt and ghoulish, he wore a menacing smile as he hovered over both Lily and I as we sat down for lunch with him and Mrs. Dumont. Mrs. Dumont had no life in her eyes, she wore this chagrin smirk every time I spoke, trying not to be rude when she realized that I didn’t grow up the same way as Lily. “Your family… doesn’t follow the Fundamentals?” Mrs. Dumont’s lifeless eyes were nervous. “I grew up Catholic.” I responded. “Oh… yes. I mean good religion. Um… well I can’t wait to show you what we have to offer at our church.” Mrs. Dumont had a very hauntingly calm tone to her voice. Like she was a Stepford Wife without the style or even the Nicole Kidman looks. She watched her husband in what I think she thought was a loving manner… I could tell he wasn’t so thrilled to hear how worldly I was. Lily coached me to fit the part of a Dumont suitor and I followed the script she prepared for me. I followed it as best as I could, she mentioned Emmett’s wife was worldly and fits in quite well with the family. Or at least plays the part well. I had to live and breathe conservative values as if the residue of the Bernie Sanders bumper sticker isn’t still clinging onto my car. Lily’s always been the black sheep of the family, she knew her parents approval of me was important for her. The months of us sneaking around were great but tasking. It’ll be nice to be able to see each other without jumping through as many hoops as we did before. But the only thing that will be different is that her parents are aware of me, we can’t touch each other unless it’s a “side hug”, and I can see her after 6pm now but before 9pm. The Dumont home was not the picturesque mansion I pictured it to be. The 4 bedroom home was spacious, someone was coming in and out of the rooms every few minutes. Her sisters were cooing over our “courtship” while her brothers tried their best to intimidate me and fail. Showing off their unloaded guns and hunting knives as if my father hadn’t exposed me to that as a child. They put on a good front that for a moment, I was almost fooled that maybe we just had different views. But I knew what Lily had told me wasn’t a lie, she was afraid and she complied for survival. I was her way out.