Page 9 of Wanna Play A Game?
“I wanted to say I miss you. Grandpa and I both do. We’re worried about you. Living in a town with a man you’re not married to is just not safe, dear. Did we not teach you better? You’re straying from the righteous path into sin. Please. Your soul will be damned to hell for eternity. We love you. Stop—”
I drop the letter. That’s more than I need to see.
I down the rest of my wine and snatch up the papers. I mutter, “You couldn’t beat Jesus into me when I was younger, so you can’t love him into me now.”
I get up and stuff the letter down the garbage disposal. Turning the water on, I run it, listening to it whir.
I can see my grandma’s angry face. She would get all red as she screamed at me for disrespecting her. For being a sinful child who needed cleansing. My memory is full of half glimpses of her as I turned around.
My hands shake. I should have known that letter would be more of the same.God, why did I want that to be a good letter, though?
I sniff away tears. Stupid alcohol. Making me soft.
I sit down and pour myself another drink. Halloweiner jumps up on the arm of the couch, purring and rubbing aggressively against my hand holding the wine glass. Cool wine sloshes onto my pants.
“Weiner!” I gasp.
He tilts his black head at me and flicks his tail, his ‘tude saying he did it on purpose. I sniff back tears because, apparently, I’m being a little bitch tonight, and I head to my bedroom to change. It’s a small bedroom full of scattered things that I mean to organize, but I always get sucked into my phone before I can.
I go to grab a pair of pants and notice that one of my dresser drawers is open. I frown. I always close them. It’s a pet peeve of mine. Maybe I left it open in my rush to get to work this morning?
As I pull out new pants, my phone dings. I dig it out of my pocket. It’s a picture message from an unknown number.
Jesus Christ, Ben. Now’s not the time.
I open the message. It’s a picture of me walking out of the salon earlier today, wearing the same dark blue jeans I had just spilled wine on.
What the absolute hell? I don’t remember seeing Ben today. In fact, I don’t remember seeing anyone.
A text rolls in right after.
Unknown: Did you like the flowers?
My nostrils flare. That’s it. This needs to stop.
Cali: Leave me the fuck alone.
I throw the phone on the bed and go to change my pants.
A reply comes back instantly. I snatch my phone up.
Unknown: Awww, I thought they were to die for.
I grit my teeth.
Cali: Stop. Following. Me. I said we were done. Leave it be.
Unknown: Oh, we’re far from done, Bunny.
I pause. This isn’t how Ben normally talks. He must really have lost it.
I block the number and throw my phone on the bed. I flop down next to it. The room spins deliciously. Maybe I’ll just move. I’d hate to lose my apartment, but this isn’t worth my mental health. Plus, I’ve always wanted to live anywhere but here.
Halloweiner jumps up on the bed and snuggles next to me. I pass out there with my wine-soaked pants still on, bemoaning my life.
Chapter 5
Cali
