Page 36 of Interview with a Sadist
“Where did you get the idea that they all wear tight, leather outfits and get off on blood play? It’s not like that,” I say, my eyes glued to Melissa.
“Oh, you know the terminology now?” Melissa questions in the world’s most mocking tone. “Blood play?”
“It’s notknowing the terminology, genius. It’s common sense.”
“Well, maybe you should explain it to us since you know so much, because all I see is pervs and psychos who like to hurt people.”
“That’s just an uneducated way of thinking about it,” I say, trying my best to explain without going off. “It’s really about love, commitment, and trust. It takes a lot for a person to trust someone enough to let them have full control over their body. It’s all about consent.”
“Really?” Teagan blurts out.
I glower at her. “Yes, Teagan, really,” I state, my head snapping over.
“What’s with all this attitude, Bree?” Melissa says, followed by her sidekick, Teagan.
“Yeah, why are you so defensive?” she squeaks like an annoying little mouse.
“I’m not being defensive,” I start to explain. “I just think it’s weird that you have such a strong opinion about something you know nothing about.”
“Oh, now you're a BDSM expert because you did an interview with a club owner?” Melissa snips. “I know just as much as you do.”
“No, Melissa, youdon't,” I fire back. My words hold a little too much aggression and truth, because Melissa’s jaw tightens as she tilts her head to the side the way she does when she has figured something out.
“Wow,” she exclaims, looking back and forth between Teagan and me. “I thinksomebodymay have gotten a littletooclose to their subject, Teagan.”
“That’s what it looks like to me,” Teagan cosigns.
“Ever since you started this interview you’ve been acting different,” Melissa goes on. “I was curious, but now Iknowyou've changed. You’ve turned into one of them.”
“Them? Who the fuck isthem?” I ask with a snarl.
Both blonde girls flinch, but it’s Melissa who speaks while Teagan just shakes her head.
“You don't even talk the same,” she says. “So, you don't have a problem with those perverts? It’s a sex club, Bree. You're cool with that now?”
“I’m cool with having the correct information before I judge people, Melissa, that’s all. And yes, Nolan has taught me a thing or two about the lifestyle that I certainly didn't know before, and knowing what I do now, I don't look at all of it the same as I did. I understand it now more than you will ever know. So, if you're looking for someone to sit here and talk shit about people for no reason, I guess you have Teagan for that.”
“Hey,” Teagan says sharply—but who gives a fuck? I lift myself up from my seat and glare at them both.
“Wow, Bree. I’m shocked that you’ve allowed yourself to become one of those freaks,” Teagan says, tossing her words at me like grenades.
“You’re going to regret it,” Melissa adds. “Mark my words, there will be a day that you regret falling into the life of sex and drugs. Wait and see.”
I know I have plenty of reasons to get mad, but sometimes all you can do is shake your head at people’s audacity, because that’s all they deserve.
“God, you're stupid,” I say with a humorless laugh. “I never saw it before, but I was different then.”
“You got that right,” Melissa says. “The Bree I went to college with would never sink this low—affiliating herself with lowlifes, and throwing away her friendships in the process. I don't even know who you are anymore.”
I smile as I turn on my heel, aiming my body toward the door.
“Well, you're right about one thing, Melissa,” I say as I start to walk away, still looking over my shoulder. “You don't know who I am anymore. The old Bree is gone, and the new Bree doesn't need anymore of your bullshit. Goodbye.”
I walk out of Starbucks and let the door to the restaurant slam shut behind me—the perfect metaphor for what just happened to that chapter of my life.
ChapterTwenty-Two
I sit at my desk with my face resting on my hand. To say I’m stressed would be an understatement, and my mind is a swirling vortex of confusion as I stare at a blank Google Doc on my computer screen. I guess that’s the thing about pushing the old, dated version of yourself to the wayside—the new you is like a baby just coming into consciousness. Your new eyes see everything as bright and shiny, but it is also brand new to you. Your sense of direction is thrown off because you're navigating the world for the first time, and you're unsure of how to operate. This is my life right now, and it’s beautiful and brutal. I approach everything I see with new vision and open-mindedness, but I have no sense of familiarity, no sense of comfort, no sense of home.
