Page 59 of Flaunt
Me: Hi.
It takes a couple of minutes before she replies.
Paige: Hi, Banksy. What are you doing up so late?
Me: Oh, just counting sheep. How far do you get before you get sidetracked?
Paige: I haven’t counted sheep since you and I slept in that blanket fort and counted them out loud. Do you remember that?
I grin.
Me: Yeah. Somehow that devolved into 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall. Mom wasn’t thrilled.
Paige: Where did you even hear that?
Me: Where do you think? JESS.
Paige: Sounds about right. How many sheep did you get to tonight?
Me: Seventeen. I made friends with number seventeen. His name was Rick. We got into a conversation about wool and then I had to restart.
Paige: What is wrong with you?
Sara. That’s what’s wrong with me.
I roll over onto my side and stare at the door.
Why do I want to fight with her and make her laugh at the same time? How is she in my house, in a bed I own, and I’m not touching her—yet, the thought of someone else touching her makes me want to hit something?Hard.
I know the answer. It hit me while we were eating ice cream from plastic cups—because I apparently don’t have any bowls—and watchingSpeed. It was the only movie we could agree on. We’re both big Keanu Reeves fans.
The issue at hand is that I don’t mind her being here. Actually,I kind of like it.
I kind of likeher.
She’s entertaining and funny. The way she points out the smallest things in a movie is fascinating. Having her here made the night go faster, and it was definitely more exciting.And she’s so beautiful.
It makes little sense on the surface that liking her makes it more difficult to fuck with her, but it’s true.
Thanks, Mom, for the conscience.
A part of me doesn’t want to play into her fucked-up views of men and relationships. Not all guys are jerks that want to treat her like she’s a piece of ass. I’m not willing to do that. I won’t.
Sara deserves someone to treat her nicely, to take their time, and earn her trust. To get to know her. To hear what she has to say and learn what she likes.To make an effort.
I know she tries to play the tough-girl role, and really, she does it well. And she gets away with it because no one sees past it. Do they want to? Do they try? Fuck if I know. But the longer she’s around, the harder it’s getting to toe the line and play along.
“You’re a catch, and I’m … me? You got a part of that right, but probably not the part that you think.”
Fuck that guy.
Me: Did you hear that I have a houseguest?
Paige: Maybe. Kinda. Wanna tell me about it?
Me: What do you want to know?
Paige: Whatever you want to tell me. This is really random for you, so I’m not sure what to even ask you to share.
