I was still standing there, probably with my mouth open and looking like a tourist in Las Vegas, when the guy between her legs turned around and said, “You must be Peaches.”
“Oops,” Shayla said, crossing one tanned leg over the other for modesty.
“I haven’t been standing here for long,” I said.
He stood and extended his hand to me. “I’m Troy, and I’m learning about the value of a college education.”
Even though I had a pretty good idea about whose taco his hand had just been stuffing, I shook it anyway.
“I’m a college drop-out,” I replied. “Consider me an example of what not to do.”
He grinned, his smile making him seem more attractive. Troy had medium brown hair, brown eyes, and an average build—average for people, not actors and models. He actually looked like one of those young comedians who loses a few pounds and gets cast as a love interest opposite a hot blonde way out of his league.
Shayla had pulled a pack of cigarettes from somewhere and lit one, the tobacco sizzling in the otherwise quiet kitchen.
“Shay, not in the house!” I crossed over to the window and opened it all the way. She usually smoked on the porch. Actually, she usually snuck out under the pretense of taking out the garbage and puffed away over the Ninja Turtles ashtray, where she thought I couldn’t see her.
“Can I mix you a drink?” Troy asked me, holding a fresh tumbler under the new refrigerator’s ice dispenser.
“I could use a drink,” I said, setting my purse on the wood table inside the small room. “Is that sushi?”
“Help yourself,” he said, gesturing to the platter of rolls on the table.
Shayla kept smoking her cigarette and smiling, no sign of making any moves to put on clothes.
I popped one roll into my mouth, followed quickly by another. “I should go upstairs and leave you guys to your… holy fuck, these rolls are unbelievable.”
I told myself I’d just have one more, then go up to my room. Or two more. I couldn’t go up on an empty stomach.
Troy stood next to Shayla, whispering something in her ear.
“You ask her,” she said. “Don’t be shy.”
He whispered something else.
She sighed. “Peaches, Troy would like to invite you to join us in my bedroom.”
I turned to face them, still chewing a mouthful of sushi roll. “Ha ha.”
“For real,” she said.
I crossed the kitchen and slammed the open window shut.
“What would you want with me in there?” I asked.
Troy was blushing, his cheeks red. Without meeting my eyes, he said, “You wouldn’t have to do anything you’re not excited about.”
“Can I sit in a chair eating sushi and offering commentary?”
Shayla rolled her eyes. “Peaches.”
I reached for the drink Troy had made me and took a sip. “Troy, tell me the truth. Did you put something in my drink?”
Shayla gave me a mean look of warning.
“I’m very flattered,” I said, giggling. “Listen, Troy, I’ll have a threesome with you guys, but I don’t think you can handle what I have in mind.”
He looked up, a playful smirk on his face. “Keep talking.”
I sloshed back the rest of the drink, then launched into describing a scenario, using words, hand gestures, and various items on the counter to demonstrate. The scenario became increasingly elaborate, and I dare say some of the positions surprised even me. I finished with, “And then I mount you from behind with my strap-on, Troy, and I will ride your ass until you don’t know if you’re coming or going, but you will cry, and you will call me by my stripper name, which is Luscious Hilda Mae Sparkles the Second.”
In the silence that followed, an ashen-faced Troy reached for Shayla’s cigarettes and lit one, hands trembling.
“Too far?” I asked Shayla.
She shrugged. “I’m turned on.”
I blew her a kiss. “My pleasure, sexy lady.”
She jumped off the counter, took Troy by the hand, and led him out of the kitchen and upstairs to her room.
I finished off the sushi and opened up one of the fortune cookies.
The slip of paper inside read: The grandest lies are the ones we tell ourselves.
I stared at the slip for several minutes. Was grandest even a word?*
*I looked. It is.
~
Wednesday morning, I opened the bookstore to find the lights on, the alarm off, and Adrian hunched over the computer. He was as still as a statue, his elbows on the counter on either side of the computer keyboard.
When he didn’t greet me, I approached cautiously, walking around to the front of him. His eyes were closed, and he was either playing a joke on me, or fast asleep. He used to sleep sitting up in chemistry class, but this was remarkable.