The Arrangement 3

I can’t look at her. Inside my head, I know that’s all I am. I’m a hooker, but sometimes it seems like more. My jaw locks as she speaks. When I try to talk, I work it to loosen the tense muscles. “You’re right. I know you’re right…”

“And?”

“And, nothing. I’m nothing to him. All this is new to me. I can’t separate my heart from my body.” I blink slowly, trying to get the burning sensation in my eyes to stop.

Mel sits down across from me, but still within reach. “Admitting that it’s just sex is the first part. Doing it over and over again is what steels your heart. When you do it that way, you don’t know who they are and you won’t care. It’s money, it’s a stress-reliever, it’s fun—but it’s never love. Avery, you got to remember that. They want no strings, no emotional attachment, and that’s what we give them.” Mel pauses for a second and then glances at me, like she shouldn’t be asking. “What do you think about taking another client? It would help you get over this one.”

“I already told Black that I would.” My chest feels like it’s going to cave in. The pressure’s too much.

“Good. Good.” Mel pats my knee. “That’s the first step out of this. When you do it with another guy, you’ll see that what you feel for Sean is just a trick your mind’s playing on you; that it was only fucking. If you told Black that you want another client, she’ll have you agree to the person and sign the contract tonight before going to Sean. Sign them. Don’t wait. It’ll keep things from getting more muddled. You can do this, Avery. It’s a good job.” Her eyes are so vibrant. She’s leaning toward me, trying to hold my gaze.

I nod slowly, like I’m stuck in a vat of gelatin. “I know it is, but I don’t know if I can shut him out. How do I do that?” I ask, glancing up at her. I feel so lost, so alone. I bury my face in my hands and breathe.

“It’s a job, Avery. Keep things that way. Let him lead and don’t kiss him, don’t give the chance for anything else. The guy has got to have some fetish shit going on. Drag it out of him and do it. That’ll shatter your prince charming version of him real fast.” She pats my knee again, and then grabs my hands and pulls me up. “You need some fun.” I start to protest, but she waves me off. “No, I know you gotta get ready, but you’ll like this fun. Come on.”

Mel drags me down the hallway and stops in front of my door. She grins at me with mischief her eyes. Mel presses her fingers to her lips, telling me to be quiet. Then she turns the knob and kicks open the door. The door makes a loud thud. Naked guy is standing at the counter. He jumps a mile. I can’t believe he’s still here. I look around for Amber. The light in the bathroom is on and the shower is running.

Mel walks in, sashaying her hips and making a beeline for naked dude. I follow her in and watch, leaving the door open behind me.

“Hey, ladies,” he grins at us, “Is it time for a threesome? I got my—” The smile falls off his face. Concern flashes in his eyes when he sees Mel coming for him.

“I want you to take your skinny ass out of this room and never come back.” As she walks, Mel passes the turkey carcass and takes the carving knife. Mel flips it in her hand like she’s a ninja. My mouth falls open. So does naked guy’s.

He lifts his palms, “Ladies, please. I can do you both separately. That’s not a problem.” His normal bravado is gone. His voice sounds like it’s stuck in his throat. Mel flips the knife. It turns handle over blade several times and then she catches it in her hand.

“Sure, pasty. Let’s do it. I’ve got a bit of a pain fetish though, so let’s just say that this won’t be pleasant—for you.” Mel smiles at him.

Naked guy doesn’t speak. He glances across the room. His clothes are at the foot of Amber’s bed. He smiles at Mel like he’s going to say yes, then turns on his heel and runs. Naked guy nearly knocks me over, muttering crazy bitches under his breath and tears down the hallway. Laughter follows in his wake. Mel grins at me, and stabs the knife into the cutting board.

A few seconds later, we see naked guy running across the quad, out the window. I laugh. Apparently his exhibitionism was only for a lucky few ladies, because he’s screaming like a lunatic as he runs for the bookstore. I wonder if he plans on buying new clothes or hiding in the stacks.

“You knife juggling nut,” I say to Mel, laughing.

“Nobody plays wussy games like darts, not where I’m from.” She laughs and looks out the window. “Did you see his face?”

I did. Smiling, I joke, “I think Amber lost her fuck-buddy.”

As if summonsed, Amber appears in the bathroom doorway. Her hair is wrapped in a towel and she’s wearing a ratty old robe. She rolls her eyes when she sees us. “Get out of here, bitch,” she says to Mel, which was a mistake. No one says that to Mel.

Mel walks over to her and growls in her face, “What’d you call me, you little piece of—”

I tug Amber’s arm. She doesn’t move. I hiss in her ear, “That was like the worst thing you could have called Mel. All those rumors about her growing up in the hood are true and you just pissed her off. You might want to run before she rips your face off.”

Amber comes to life. She frantically mutters things that make no sense and finally says, “I have to go.” She races out the door in her robe and doesn’t come back.

I hug Mel and say, “I owe you one. Thank you.”

She nods. “What are friends for if they can’t chase off hoes and guys with little winkies?” We both laugh. Mel turns to leave and says, “Get dressed in peace. I’ll check in with you in the morning. We can have pancakes. I’m running a syrup deficit.”

I watch her walk away. Confidence lines her shoulders, even though her life has sucked. It’s made her stronger and she’s better for it. I’m done moping. I’m not letting my past consume me. I don’t care what it takes, I’ll survive because I want to—on my own terms. Fuck everything else. I deserve a happy life.

CHAPTER 9

After I’m all decked out for work, I feel strange. It’s like part of me wants to turn cold so I can endure this fate. The other part of me whispers in the back of my mind, telling me that things can still be warm and safe. I need to smack her over the head with a frying pan. That little voice in the back of my head is going to ruin me. She never stops hoping, even when there’s nothing left to hope for. I gag that fragment of my brain and lock her away with my pride. Tonight is about getting to tomorrow. It’s about surviving and that’s it. Nothing else matters.

My dress swishes against my bare thighs as I take the stairs two at a time. My Chucks are on my feet in case I have issues with my car. There are always issues with my car. If I really take more clients, like Mel encouraged me to do, I can replace the misfit car with something that actually runs. I’d like that. But maybe not. This car is one of the only connections I have to my father. I worked on it with him, taping it up when it dumped oil all over the drive way. It’s always been a bad car, but maybe I’ll keep it anyway.

As I round the corner, I run into Amber. She’s sitting on the stairs with her face in her hands, all hunched over. I came this way to avoid people. As it is, I got three cat calls walking down the hallway and one was from a girl. I pause. There’s nothing I’d like more than to kick Amber and run down the stairs laughing, but I don’t.

I sigh dramatically and sit next to her, ignoring the dirty floor and my insanely expensive dress. “Hey, bitch,” I say teasingly. “Why are you hiding in the stairwell?”

Amber lifts her face. It’s covered in a sheen of tears and snot. Gross. I hand her a tissue. She takes it and looks at me like I’m insane. “Are you here to gloat?”

“No, I came this way so no one would see me spray start my car. It’s parked at the end of the building in that dark lot. As soon as I put the hood up, guys flock over like I’m too stupid to start my own car.”

She snorts, “Yeah, well…” I can tell she has something nasty on her tongue, but Amber swallows it and looks sheepish. “You have more guts than me. I’ve put my hood up, if you know what I mean, just to get a guy to talk to me.”

“Yeah, I realize that. You’re a prickly bitch when you want to be, but it’s like you’re bipolar or something because there’s a sassy smart mouth in there too. I’m guessing she lost that battle of the alter egos.”

Amber holds onto her knees and dabs her face with the tissue. “Yeah, something like that. It’s easier to get guys to like me when I act like that.”

“You know they don’t really know you, right? I mean, if that’s not really you. At this point, I’m not really sure who you are.”

“Me neither,” Amber says. Turning her head toward me, she looks at me and finally sees me. “What are you wearing?”

I shrug, suddenly feeling nervous. “Nothing. I have a date and can’t wear heels driving my car. It stalls a lot.”

“I heard you chased down some dick who stole that car out from under you.” There’s an expression on her face that I haven’t seen before—respect.

“I did. Several times.” Wonderful, my legacy is the crazy chick who chases a car that’s well past its expiration date.

“I wish I had guts like that. It’s like you don’t care what people think of you.” There’s a far off look in her eye, like she can’t fathom being that way.

I don’t know how to answer her. My life is a mess. I stand and say, “The room’s empty if you want it. I won’t be back tonight.” I start to walk down the stairs.

Amber calls after me. “Where’s your crazy friend?”

“Out,” I call back, and then I’m out of sight. I don’t understand that girl. Awh, hell, I don’t understand anything. I should really stop trying. I spend half my life trying to get a grip on things, but they just slip through my fingers in the end. I’m lucky I know my ass from my elbow. There’s no clear cut answer for anything anymore.