Page 51 of Sicken of the Calm
“Peroxide in the bathroom,” I saysleepily, not knowing how he can be so active after orgasm. He comes back withthe bottle and more paper towels in hand. I close my eyes as I feel him work.It doesn’t burn at all when he drips the liquid on me, so he must be beingoverly cautious. I don’t protest.
“Does it hurt?” he asks once he’sfinished and returned from putting everything away.
“Not really. It’s warm. S’nice,”I say. He settles back beside me on the bed, draping a blanket over us, and Iscoot closer.
“Do you mind that I…broke theskin?” he asks cautiously.
“No. You can do it again,” I say,for future reference, not wanting him to spiral. I feel him relax beside me.
“Ok,” he says simply.
We let the silence fall for awhile. It’s not late enough to go to sleep, but we rest for a few moments. Ifeel him move even closer, pressing his forehead against mine.
“Thank you,” he says quietly. Ikiss him softly before settling back.
“Always,” I say, and wish thatwere really in the cards.
CHAPTER NINE
“Joaquin, there were catseverywhere,”Iva wails. “Everywhere. Like, she had seemed so normal! And you know I likecats, ok, but there were like, I’m not even kidding here, liketwo dozencats in this tiny-ass apartment. Like, the moment the door opened it was a seaof cats and they all starting freaking meowing at her. I was like what. Thefuck. Is this!” she says, spasming with her whole body. I laugh at her antics.We’re both lying on her bed, curled toward each other, having just used herkitchen to cook and eat together. She’s regaling me with a story of a recenthook-up with usual Iva flair.
“We’d been kissing against thedoor and stuff so I’m all dazed and shit, so when she pulls me into theapartment I don’t even stop her. I’m just staring at the fucking red feline seashe’s parting and then she’s kissing me again like this iscompletely normal!She’s like twenty-two, dude, how did she evengetthat many cats? Andthey’re all looking at us and rubbing against us, which would normally bepretty cute but there wereso many of them, Joaquin. So many. So, I pushher off a little and I’m like, what the fuck, right, because, what the fuck?And I’m expecting her to say that she works at a shelter that went bankrupt orsomething but she’s just like, I love cats. I was like, no shit you love cats!I think I got that from the fucking army of them in the room with us! Actually,what do you call a group of cats? A herd?”
“I have no idea.”
“Google it,” she orders, pokingme. I swat at her hand before pulling my phone out and doing her bidding.
“A group of cats is called aclowderorglaringof cats,” I quote, tilting the phone so she can read. Shegrabs my hand, tilting it further so the screen is right in front of her face.
“A glaring! Oh my God, a glaringof cats, that’s exactly what they were. Oh my God, that’s fucking perfect,” shelaughs, letting my hand go. I tuck my phone back in my pocket, smiling withher.
“So, yeah, I’m fucking surroundedby the glaring, glaring of cats and she’s all casual-Cathy about it, and juststarts kissing me again and I’m like, ok, she’s really hot, and notthatstrange, I mean, she really likes cats and has a million of them and it smellsweird in here but she’s doing this thing with her hands, oh man. So I’m like,can we go to the bedroom? And we do and, surprise, surprise! More cats! Morecats, Joaquin! At this point I’m like, this is animal cruelty. These cats don’twant to be here. Cats need alone time. They’re introverts. They need time torecharge. But I’m like, ok, this needs to be an in-and-out mission. So I say,can the cats stay outside? And she’s like, sure. So we herd the cats out andclose the door, and I’m like, phew! Free and clear! And then I turn around andthere’s this massive fucking cat on this, like, structure thing. Like, youknow, those playgrounds for cats or whatever? Made of some weird beigematerial, do you know what I’m talking about?”
“Yeah, those boxes and circlesand dangling things stacked into a structure-thing.”
“Yeah, that. Well, this cat is atthe top of it, and it islegitglaring at me. Like, there is hate in itseyes. I’m like, fucking spooked. So I’m like, uhm, and point at the cat, andthe girl fucking shrugs and says,he likes to watch.”
“Oh my God.”
“I know.I was like, um,no. But then the girl is, like, fucking on me. Like, my back hits the bed and Ijust kind of – forget? She was very distracting. So, blah, blah, blah, we takeour clothes off, kissy kissy, touchy touchy, she’s between my legs, she’s aboutto go down on me and then she just, stops. And, listen to me Joaquin, she looksup at the fucking cat, who is still glaring at me by the way, and then back at my,like, vagina, and says in, like, theweirdestRussian accent – like, shewas from Kansas. She didnothave a Russian accent, but she put it onand says,now there’s my pretty pussy.”
“What!”
“I was like, aaah! What! Why?What!” she cries beseechingly at me. I laugh, putting my hand over my face.
“Oh my God.”
“Oh my God is right! I wasfreaked out. Like, why the accent! And, why did she look up at the cat? It was,like, serial-killer creepy. I don’t know, it was just super creepy.”
“Jesus, Iva, did you leave?”
“Well, I mean…no.”
“Iva!”
“Joaquin! She was going down onme, what was I supposed to do, stop her? That would have been rude!” she says.I laugh incredulously. “Anyway, it was fine. She didn’t cut me up and feed meto her glaring of cats.”
“A clear sign of a successfulsexual escapade,” I deadpan.
