Page 151 of You're so Bad

In my head I can hear another woman telling me something similar.

We don’t fit together anymore, Danny. You’re too…basic. Shit. I didn’t mean that. I guess it’s just that we want different things. You want…this life. I want something more.

It was my ex-girlfriend, Daphne, who said that, and it still burns. It’s hard to believe I’ll be seeing her next week after all these years. I’ll finally have a chance to—

“Come on, dude, this is heavy!” Mira says, jostling the box.

“I strongly object to you taking the bottom position.”

She gives me a wicked look with those cat eyes. “That’s what she said.”

This woman is going to kill me.

“Okay, it’s your funeral.”

We back it up to the staircase, and I start up the steps. I try to take as much of the weight as I can, even though gravity has different ideas.

“You doing okay down there?” I ask, because the box has hidden most of Mira from me. I can just see a flash of her black hair, her whiskey eyes.

“Never better,” she says. Then she starts humming some infernal pop song under her breath as if to prove it’s no sweat.

But we’re still on the first set of stairs.

I make her pause when we get to the second floor landing. She rolls her eyes and calls me a grandfather, but I can tell she’s feeling it. It’s there in the bead of sweat falling down her hairline.

“I can probably carry this up myself,” I offer.

What I’d really do is carry it over to the elevator opening on the second floor, but if I get her to agree, I figure I can lug it up any way I choose.

“No way. I need to get some exercise.”

So we start up the next set of stairs.

That’s when it happens. A tiny furry creature that looks like a mouse comes scurrying through the propped open door to the second floor and down the steps. It runs right overmy foot.I flinch but keep hold of the box.

“Peaches,” shouts a mournful voice from the second floor landing, and I get a glimpse of a small round face and curly hair before I hear a screech from down below.

I grab my end of the box for all I’m worth, because I can feel Mira losing her grip on it. Her end falls with a bang, a slew of swearing that probably educated the mop-headed child more than any fifth grader could, and then Mira falls down the four or five steps to the landing below.

Shit, shit, shit. I still have the enormous box on the steps, and I can’t let it slide down, because it’d slide right into her.

“What have you done to Peaches!” the little girl on the landing screams, as if her rodent didn’t cause this mess to begin with.

Not knowing what else to do, I start lugging the box up as fast as I can, knowing the faster I’m done, the faster I can get to Mira. The kid sees me coming and screams again, slamming the door as if she thinks I’m some kind of weirdo. I finally get to the top and set the box down, then practically vault down the steps to get to Mira. She’s not screaming now, but her face is pale and drawn.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

I’m scared to touch her, to hurt her, but I reach out and tuck her hair behind her ear, then cup her cheek. “Where does it hurt?”

She gives a pained laugh. “Fucking everywhere. I think I broke my left foot when I dropped the box on it. But on the plus side…” She lifts up her hand, showing me the furry little rodent. It’s orange with spots. “I’m kind of a hero, you know.”

“The city will hold a parade in your honor.” I realize I’m still touching her, like an asshole, so I take my hand away and pull out my phone.

“What are you doing?” she hisses.

“Calling an ambulance.”

“No way. I have really shitty insurance. I can’t pay for an ambulance. Can you drive me to the emergency room?”

---