Page 37 of Unhinged

Because I don’t, you dumb skank.

Sighing and still shaking, I glance at the clock. Maybe Dr. Abramson left to punch a clock or beat traffic. I mean, I’m wasting her time.

No one is at the reception desk when I leave her office, so I can’t flirt with Elijah to soothe my hurt feelings.

Exiting the building, I see my ride waiting for me. However, before I leave the sidewalk, I hear, “Hey, Simone. Wait up.”

Turning, I see Elijah leaving the building and jogging toward me. I squint in the setting sunlight. Elijah stops in front of me, and I ask, “Yeah?”

“Um, I was wondering if you’re doing anything this weekend? Maybe we can grab a drink…or something?”

Elijah’s eyes travel over my body again, even though I’m wearing a shirred faux fur coat. His brown hair is wavy and bounces when he talks. It reminds me of Cocoa Beach when Sharla and I smoked weed for the first time and felt up each other. She suggested taking it further, but I didn’t want it getting weird between us. Though I can see myself being a boob girl. If Elijah doesn’t work out, I may take Sharla up on her offer to smash pussies. My fingers and vibrators aren’t doing shit.

I grin. “I could definitely go for…something.” Behind Elijah, I see Tweedle Tit and Tweedle Cunt leaving the building, and when they see Elijah standing with me, they gawk. Elijah follows my gaze, and I say, “They don’t like me.”

He laughs. “They don’t like anyone.”

“Except you.”

“I’m nice to them because they buy me donuts and cover for me when I’m late.”

“So, you take advantage of them?”

He shrugs. “I guess I know how to play my cards right. Text me your address, and we’ll set something up.”

I hope this leads to Elijah filling my aching pussy. “Okay.”

“Awesome. I’ll see you.”

I giggle like a lunatic on the way to the parking lot. Seeing my ride, I plop into the passenger seat and ask, “Do you always arrive early for everything?”

“You’re complaining about my punctuality?”

Rolling my head against the headrest, I glance at him. His bulky white coat makes him look like the Michelin Man. “Just an observation.” Anything to make me forget talking to Dr. Abramson about my failure as a person.

“You do have a car,” Amos reminds me. It was a gift from my parents on my sixteenth. I haven’t been able to trade it in for something nicer. Someday.

“Why would I drive when you offer?”

He stoically stares ahead. “Who was that man?”

“What man?” As we drive past, I look to the sidewalks, keeping an eye out for potential fuck buddies if Elijah doesn’t work out.

“The man you were talking to.”

“Oh. Him. A coworker. We’re going on a date.”

Amos swiftly looks away from the road, surprised, which surprises me. “A date? You’ve only interned there a week.”

“So? Are you implying I’m easy?” I guess I’m desperate to have sex just so I can forget about the sex I didn’t have.

“I am not. It was just an observation.”

I roll my eyes at his attempt at humor. “I love you, Amos, but stuff a bra.”

Amos cracks a smile. “Dr. Abramson invited us to dinner. You’re aware?”

I nod as I turn toward him within the constraints of my seatbelt. “It feels a little weird.”

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