Home>>read Drunk Dial free online

Drunk Dial(12)

By:Penelope Ward


“So, why don’t you want him to be your boyfriend?”

Unsure of how to explain my messed-up head to a ten-year-old, I chose to keep my response simple.

“I don’t want a boyfriend.”

“Why not?”

“Boyfriends make life complicated.”

“Well, I want one.”

“You’re way too young, so don’t even think about it.”

“I hope I can be pretty like you when I get old enough to have a boyfriend.”

Hearing her say that sliced at my heart. “You are pretty. Don’t ever let anyone lead you to believe otherwise.”

“I don’t look like the other girls at school.”

She really reminded me so much of myself when I was a kid, and it was killing me. I never had anyone tell me that there was nothing wrong with my looks. I spent so much of my adolescence hating myself. If I had one job, it was to make sure that Lilith felt good about herself.

“It’s okay to look different, Lilith. Beauty is only a matter of opinion. If you believe you are beautiful, then that’s all that matters. These are really tough years you’re approaching now. Your decisions now and as a teenager can change your entire life. Just make sure you talk to me or someone if you’re ever feeling like life is too much to handle. And never let anyone convince you that you’re not worthy, only to take advantage of you.”

She nodded then abruptly changed the subject in typical Lilith fashion. “Will you braid my hair?”

“Of course.”



When I returned to my apartment that afternoon, I jumped at the sight of my father sitting down and drinking coffee at my kitchen table. Every time he would sneak into my place, I would forget for a moment that he had a key. He’d given me the down payment for this apartment with the condition that he would get his own key to check in on me whenever he wanted.

“You scared me.”

In his thick, foreign accent, he said, “Why you no-have heat, Ranoona?”

My father’s nickname for me was Ranoona. Not sure exactly where that came from.

“I do have heat. I just keep it really low.” Pouring myself a mug of the coffee he’d made, I asked, “How long have you been here?”

“One hour.”

I looked to my right and noticed a rather large, blue and white Holy Mary statue on the counter. It looked like something you’d see in someone’s garden or in front of an old woman’s house. She had rosary beads wrapped around her neck.

“Where did that come from?”

“Garage sale. Someone throw her out. You believe?” He lowered his voice as he looked toward Lenny’s room. “You need Blessed Mother to protect you from this crazy guy. I no-like him. He have-a crazy eyes.”

“Shh.”

My father always said you could determine the level of crazy in people by their eyes. I did believe there was some truth to that. People with crazy eyes had a way of looking through you and not at you. There was a disconnect of some sort.

“I can’t kick him out,” I said.

“I kick him out,” my father insisted.

“No, Papa. Please, don’t make trouble.”

He sliced me a piece of apple and handed it to me. “You no-eat healthy.”

“Coffee and popcorn is plenty healthy,” I said, taking a bite of the Granny Smith.

He cut me another piece and placed it on the table in front of me.

My father may not have always known how to handle me, but I was happy that we were at a point where we could sit down and just enjoy each other’s company. Although he was always opinionated, he’d given up on believing that he could change me.

“You dance for the Greeks tonight?”

I laughed a little. “Yes.”

He took a sip of his coffee. “I no-like this job.”

“Really? You’ve only mentioned that a thousand times. It’s only temporary. I’ve told you that.”

“You quit, I give you money.”

“No. I need to support myself. You can barely pay your own rent.”

“I move in with you.”

“In that case, I will never stop dancing.”



They told me they would up my hourly rate if I tried it.

Even though I was terrified, I agreed. Now, I had to wonder if I seriously needed my head examined.

If only Papa could see me now. No, I would not be telling him about this one.

It was heavy and slimy. With a gigantic snake wrapped around my neck, I clicked my finger cymbals and swayed my hips, praying that the time went by quickly. My boss assured me it wasn’t venomous. I sure as hell hoped he was right.

For some reason, all I could think about was what Landon’s reaction to this would have been. Would he think I was nuts, or would he think it was really cool? As I shook my ass to the drumbeat, I thought of Landon standing on the beach with the sunset as the backdrop. Once again, I was dancing for him—my slithering friend and I were.