The hollow feeling returned.
The rug underneath my world had been pulled out again. I didn't realize how excited I'd gotten myself planning to see Beth. Working up the courage and then having it fall through was devastating. It was like if you told a seven-year-old that Christmas was canceled. I hadn't gotten to see Beth.
Probably never would.
Before, it seemed that only circumstances kept us apart. Now I knew Wyatt was actively trying. He had the guards on his side, the law, he even had God damned super heroes backing him up. Compared to that I had very little. Almost nothing at all.
I felt worse off than before. Ironically enough I felt lonelier. Sarah stopped texting me. Dana told me they had a talk. Kylie finally stopped talking to me except for polite niceties the few times we bumped into each other at work. I was glad for all that. They were both nightmares in my life who needed to go. Except I missed them because now I couldn't ignore the bigger problems in my life.
It was uncomfortable dealing with these problems. I wanted the distractions back. Except, not really. I needed to sort shit out and I couldn't count on others to help me. I couldn't wait around, hoping Beth got free, hoping Wyatt was lying, hoping everything would be fine. If I wanted to achieve any sort of happiness in my life I would have to make it happen. While it never felt like it, the reality was that I was in control of my destiny.
I was only at my shitty job because I was too afraid to do anything else. I wanted something familiar to what I had so I took the first job offered to me. I was so afraid of losing something that I failed to realize that maybe it was better to slip behind slightly to get ahead later. I could've gone back to school. Tons of people did it. I wasn't even thirty yet. I'd been acting like someone who had their retirement fund raided at the end of their life who had no other options. I was still young. I could still change.
Except...could I really? Theoretically I could. Theoretically I could do anything I put my mind to. I was still young enough that I could be president one day. The reality was that I wasn't moving forward at all. What happened was that my fantasies had changed. I used to spend all day opening mail considering what I would do when Beth was free. I'd already come up with this intricate life we would live together which involved a bigger ranch, marriage and, eventually, kids.
Children were something I'd never considered before, not seriously, and now they were something I'd grown to want. Not in general. I only wanted to have them with Beth. In this fantasy life the details changed, but the overall dream was us together, having a happy ending free of the misery of the past year.
Now my fantasies revolved around quitting my job. Nothing changed at the office. Not really. The job was the same as ever, the mail still needed to be opened, my co-workers were friendly folk content in their future. Not even Kylie and our falling out affected the way people treated me. They seemed to understand and accept that that was the reason I stopped hanging out with them socially. Still, I wasn't shunned. What was getting to me was the monotony of it all. Before my visit to the prison I had what I thought was an end. Beth was the light at the end of the tunnel.
It turned out the light was a train called Wyatt who rolled over and crushed my dreams. Now opening mail was a tedious task akin to Sisyphus rolling the boulder up a mountain. No matter how much mail I opened there was always more to do. The postman was my own personal devil, forever delivering trays full of letters for me to sort through. His permanent smile made me believe he got a sick joy out of punishing us. I wanted to slap the trays out of his hands and run out of the building with my middle fingers in the air. That's how I little I cared about my job.
I was more mad at myself. The job was never going to change and I knew that going in. The best I could hope for was to be promoted to manager. A pay raise, sure, but even the manager had to open up mail most times because of how much arrived. No, I didn't want to go through with that.
The other thought that repeated through my brain was about going back to school. That's why I was mad at myself. It was always a possibility. Whenever work got too bad I thought fuck this! I'll quit and go back to school! Except weeks went by and I still hadn't even looked at classes at the local junior college. I was the one holding me back. I could be in class the next day if I truly wanted to. Instead the coward in me reared its head again and I stayed on my stool collecting paper cuts.
It didn’t even have to be college, trade school was an option. I could learn plumbing, auto repair, something, anything. I think that because I had no passion for anything it was the source of my aimlessness. That's how I talked myself out of spending money on school. Why go somewhere, throw down a lot of money, and put myself in debt to get a degree which didn't guarantee me a job anywhere? And if I got that job, would it be better than this? How bad would it be to go through all that and then end up back in a repetitive office job, but now with student loans? It would make my situation much, much worse.
At least after a trade school I could conceivably be my own boss. Maybe that's all I needed in my life: to feel in control. There was little possibility of getting rich and retiring young. I didn't imagine myself founding a super successful electrician franchise in Paradiso. But it would be nice to have a useful skill people appreciated and I could work my own schedule. As long as I did the best work possible then I would always be in demand.
Maybe even that was a foolish dream. I didn't know anything about plumbing or electrical shit or auto repair. Maybe I would talk to a carpenter and he would laugh in my face because he longed for the simple security of nine-to-five with health benefits. I had to try something. Otherwise I'd find myself a bitter, white-haired old man doing a job he hated because he was too afraid to try for something else. I had to stop letting fear rule my life. If I took anything out of my relationship with Beth it was that I should get out of my shell and stop being afraid.
Living in Paradiso was never without its irony.
While I was thinking about conquering my fears about a life in a cubicle farm the city decided to inject a bit of fear into everyone.
It started a bit after lunch. Everyone was getting tired from eating too much at the Mexican restaurant our manager treated us to for all the overtime we did the previous week. It was a Thursday. Still a full day of work to do the next day, but everyone's mind was on the weekend. Friday was a dead day for us; not a whole lot of mail came in so we mostly did busy work a lot of the time.
Everyone was basically shooting the shit. I was loading up my cart to make the rounds when we heard the explosion. We didn't know it was an explosion at first. It was just a muffled "poom" to us. A few moments later we felt the building shake. It wasn't as bad as the recent earthquakes, but there was noticeable movement. Everyone held their breath, looking from one pale frightened face to the next. We were all waiting to see if there would be more or if it was a one off.
They were all wishing it was. One explosion was uncommon, but not unheard of. Everyone had a story or two of previous super fights. The big ones, the disaster ones, were actually rare. If there were multiple explosions, the sounds of super battle, then it was terrible: Paradiso's own version of a natural disaster.
The next few explosions were close together, like a series of fireworks going off. The building shuddered again, causing the lights to flicker. Everyone in the mailroom held onto their desks like they were on the bridge of the Starship Enterprise and it was hit by a photon torpedo.
After everything settled and people relaxed their death-grips on their desks our boss took charge.
"Okay, everyone, we've practiced this for years. You know where the shelters are. Please start moving towards the stairs!"
Despite the drills we all trained for everyone still scrambled to pick up their belongings. Our boss urged them to move to the hallways, but even the fear of death wasn't strong enough to make them leave their phones and purses.
I slipped away in the confusion. People were looking out for themselves, not each other. The halls were jam-packed as co-workers tried to escape. Some of them created blockages as they waited for the elevators in clear violation of protocol. Most of them surged towards any exits. I pushed against the crowd like a salmon swimming upstream as I made my way deeper into the office.
All the cubicles were empty and all the phones were silent. It was a sight I'd never seen before. The place was always a beehive of activity and now it was largely abandoned. It was like the rapture happened and I hadn't been taken.
I don't know what drove me to take a look. It was dangerous not to go down into the safety bunkers like everyone else. The odds were on my side. The majority of injuries and death happened within two blocks of a super powered fight. Anything outside that range was generally a fluke. Besides, this couldn't be any worse than the fight I'd already seen up close and personal between a hero and a villain.
I walked over to a window and peered out. I didn't have a clear view of what was happening. The fight was taking place behind a building next to ours and I couldn't clearly see what was happening. Whatever was going on was mostly street-level. All the bursts of light and flying debris were near the ground. If you didn't know what was going on then you'd think that there was an impromptu rave going on.
A stray burst of fire erupted and lit a car on fire. This was followed by a stream of ice which smothered the flames. At least some noble hero was concerned about collateral damage, though the car was probably already junked.
I wished I could see more from my vantage point. I wondered if I had time to get down to the street and get a closer look. The fight wouldn't last long. Once one actually broke out they tended to end quick because Either the villain stopped the hero and fled or the Rescueteers stepped in and stopped it. The only time stuff like this went on for too long was if a villain took hostages. So...like normal crime except with people who controlled the weather.
Little did I know right then that I was going to be part of what fucked up the city's crime statistics.
I only had a second to react. The glass from the building across the street exploded out. It wasn't caused by a stray energy blast, but by two bodies. I jerked to the right out of instinct. I was trying to get away quick, but tripped over my own feet. I crashed to the floor, hitting my chin, causing my teeth to clack together. I only just managed not to bite my tongue. Falling actually saved my life. The two people crashed through the window I had been staring out of. Glass rained down all around me. If I had been in the way they would've flown through me and pulverized my body into atoms.
I covered my head from the shards of glass, keeping my face pressed to the ground. I felt pieces biting into my back and legs. I hoped that there wasn't some piece waiting to slice through my neck. Once I was sure it was relatively safe I pulled myself off the ground. It was hard going. Broken glass was everywhere. No matter where I put my hands they got cut. Finally I grabbed a desk, ignored the pain, and pulled myself up.
The two people who crashed into my office continued the fight, oblivious to my presence. It was a man and a woman. The man was dressed in a silver spandex outfit with blue gloves, boots and mask. In each hand he held a whip. I recognized him as Silver Tip Whip, a hero who wasn't affiliated with any one team.
He was fighting Dana. This was the first time I'd ever seen her decked out in her villain suit. It was slightly different from the motorcycle outfits I'd seen her wear before: it was a skin-tight jumpsuit which was mostly bright pink with black accents, boots and gloves. It was more about the way she wore it, the way she looked. Pumped up with action, her muscles were larger, she seemed more intimidating. She didn't wear a mask, but had a pink bandanna wrapped around the lower part of her face. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail. In her left hand she carried a giant mace which looked like it weight more than me, but she swung it around like it was made of Styrofoam.
Dana charged at Silver Tip Whip. She crashed through the cubicle walls like there weren't there. Desks flew out of the way as she knocked them aside. When she was close enough to him she swung her mace at his head, but he dodged out of the way. He backed away from her, trying to strike at her with his whips except they kept getting caught on office chairs and desks.
Dana wasn't having much luck either. She was so tall that her head kept scraping against the ceiling. Silver Tip Whip managed to get a proper swing with his whip side-armed. Dana got her arm up in time to block the whip from wrapping around her neck. It wrapped around her arm and Silver Tip was able to yank her towards him. Dana stumbled forward. I only thought he had the whip gimmick, there was no indication that he was super strong.
Once Dana found her footing she stopped being pulled towards him and yanked back. As strong as Silver Tip was he wasn't stronger than Dana. He flew across the room towards her. When he was within distance she swung her mace with her free arm. He caught it before it could cave his skull in. They stood like that in a stalemate, each preventing the other from using their weapon.
Dana ended the stalemate with a savage head butt to Silver Tip's face. I heard the crack over all the other noise. Having my own nose broken before I felt some sympathy for him. He was going to be in a lot of pain for a while. His head snapped back and blood flew from his face like someone hit him with a tomato.
Silver Tip let go of his whip and Dana's mace. He stumbled backwards with both hands covering his face. If he thought Dana was going to relent, show any mercy, then he was completely wrong. The only reason she gave him a moment of peace was because she was unwrapping his whip from her arm. She dropped it to the ground then took a two-handed grip on her mace.
She charged forward again and swung her mace like a baseball bat. Silver Tip dove out the way. In an instant he was back on his feet, running down the aisles of broken cubicles, jumping over fallen chairs and desks towards his other whip. Dana chased him down easily. While he had to jump and dodge, she plowed through everything like a charging bull. Silver Tip was like Theseus trying not to get killed by the minotaur.
Before this moment I never imagined Dana could move as fast as she was. I always thought she was too big to be quick. It was very frightening that she had both strength and that speed at her disposal.
Silver Tip snatched up his fallen whip as he ran by it. Now that he had both his weapons back he regained some of his lost confidence. With the damage Dana caused by chasing after him he had more room to swing his whips around. He still wasn't prepared to go on the offensive. He stayed away from her and only cracked his whips in the empty air between them, keeping her at a distance like a lion tamer.
Dana ducked and feinted, but couldn't make any approach. The faster Silver Tip cracked his whips they started glowing red. There was a buzzing noise with each swing. Through the mask of blood coating his face I saw Silver Tip smile.
Dana moved in and caught a strike to her face. When I heard her shriek in pain I got scared. I never thought I would hear her make that noise. She turned away from Silver Tip, holding her face the same way he had when she broke his nose. I couldn't clearly see what happened, but I saw smoke rising from between her fingers.
Now Silver Tip Whip moved onto the offensive. He struck twice more, straight on Dana's back. The whips burned through her costume, flaying it open causing an X to be melted into her skin. Dana didn't scream like she did before, merely grunted as the whips stripped the flesh off her. Two more strikes dropped her to one knee.
I wanted to help her, to do something other than watch her die. But what could I do? If he hit me with one of those things I'd get ripped in half. That would stop him from assaulting my friend, but it wasn't how I wanted to die.
Silver Tip Whip kept whipping Dana, by now her back was completely charred. I couldn't tell if he was doing it out of fear of what Dana would do to him if he stopped or if it was sadism.
I couldn't stand to see him hit my friend anymore. Even if it cost my life I was going to stop him.
I came out from where I was hiding. I had a chair in my hands that I intended to hit him with. It wasn't much, but it was all I had at hand.
"Hey!" I shouted, but it was lost over the din of the cracking of his whips and the constant explosions outside from the battle.
I was about to swing the chair when Dana made her move. The next time he snapped one of the whips she reached behind her back and grabbed it. Silver Tip tried to hit her with the other one, but she grabbed that one, too. Her hands smoked, but she still held on. The air smelled like cooking bacon.
Silver Tip should've let go of the whips and ran. Instead he held on. With her back still to him she tugged on the whips like she was jumping rope. Silver Tip was yanked up into the air and smashed into the ceiling before landing in front of Dana. She pulled the whips towards her and stuck her leg out. Silver Tip collided with her foot and there were wet pops as both his shoulders dislocated.
That's when he started screaming.
Dana dropped the whips and picked up her mace. I figured now she was going to mash Silver Tip into a bloody paste. Instead she pointed the head of the mace at him and pressed a button on the handle. There was a bright shock of orange energy and Silver Tip flew out the window, falling down to the ground like a shooting star.
Dana watched him fall until he hit the ground. Then her knees buckled and she leaned against a tipped-over desk to remain upright.
"Holy fuck!" she said.
Again, I didn't know what to do. The way Dana looked scared the hell out of me. She was like a wounded animal. If I got close to her she was more liable to throw me out the window like Silver Tip instead of accepting my help.
"Luke, is that you?" Dana turned to look at me.
The gash on her face crossed from her right temple to the left of her chin. The heat from the whip had burned out her right eye and nearly severed her nose. The bandanna she'd been wearing was resting around her neck, only suspended by a thread. The wound didn't bleed since it was cauterized.
"How did you know I was here?" I asked.
"I can smell you. Barely. Mostly all I can smell is my own skin roasting. I'm going to be a vegetarian for at least a week because of this."
"I don't think I'm going to eat for a week."
"Do I really look that bad?" she asked.
I couldn't lie to her. I nodded my head.
"At least I put that fucker in the hospital."
"I think you killed him."
"I don't think so. Silver Tip Whip is stronger than he looks. Cockier, too, since he tried to take me on. I'm way out of his league," she reached up and touched her face. She drew her hand back when she touched her dangling nose, "Damn! This is always the worst part; Waiting for my shit to heal. It's itchy as fuck! I could get some relief by scratching, but that would make it take longer," she looked at the palms of her hands, "at least I don't see bone anymore."
She held up her hands to show me. All I saw was burnt flesh, like someone left hamburger on a grille for too long and now it was charcoal.
"Yep. Looks good," I said.
Dana blew out a long breath, "Okay, you're really not going to like this, but I need a favor."
"Sure. Do you need a lift somewhere? I don't mind driving you some place to get help. Even if it's the Psycho Surgeon. I don't think I'll go in with you, but I'll definitely wait in the car. Getting to the parking garage is going to be..."
She cut me off, "Luke, I don't need you to drive me anywhere. Especially not to the Psycho Surgeon. I don't need a doctor. What I need you to do is come over here and hold my nose to my face."
"...what?"
"I know. It's totally gross. But I need you to do it so it heals correctly. Otherwise my nose is going to fall off and I'm going to look like Lord Voldemort until it grows back."
"You could just hold it there, like, pinch it like you had a nosebleed," I said.
"Won't work. I don't be able to see that it's on straight. I don't want a crooked nose like a boxer. Even if you got me a mirror I would screw it up. Trust me."
"I just..."
"I've helped you out tons of times."
"But..."
"Get over here and hold my nose so I don't look like a fucking Picasso painting!" she said.
I crawled over some debris to get to her. Gingerly I took hold of her nearly severed nose and moved it to where it was supposed to be on her face. I was careful not to tear the thin bit of skin holding it to her. I knew I couldn't look away or my hand would waver and it would all be for nothing.
It was disturbingly fascinating to watch the process. Gross as hell, but still fascinating. If I wasn't watching it happen only inches from my fingers I would've sworn that it was time-lapse photography of a wound healing. The injury became shallower as muscle re-grew and knitted back together. The burned skin flaked off like scabs as new skin took its place. I had to focus on keeping her nose in place as her face shifted underneath it, growing new flesh to bind it to her.
Neither of us spoke. I didn't want to get distracted and accidentally rip her nose off. I figured she was concerned about it looking bad so she held still. My arm started to get tired and was shaking. Carefully I took hold of her nose with my other hand to give it a rest. Throughout it all I kept having to remember to breathe. The tension of trying to get it right was almost too much. I'd never been so aware of having to pee before all this.
"Okay," Dana finally said, "I think you can let go."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. I'm sure."
"Because I don't want you to be mad in case your nose falls off."
"I won't be mad at you."
"I think we should give it a few more minutes," I said.
"If you don't let go of my nose I'm going to break your arm."
Slowly I released her nose. At any given moment I was ready to lunge forward and catch it. I didn't have to worry because the nose stayed attached to Dana's face. She sniffed deep, then breathed out hard enough to flair her nostrils.
"Okay, good to go. It's going to take some time before my sense of smell isn't all cooked pork but it's good enough. I'm not going to look like a monster walking down the street. How's my back look?"
She turned around. Her back was healed just fine. All that remained under the soot were thin lines which grew smaller as I watched. I wished I could heal like that. The cuts on my hands from the glass were still bleeding.
"Everything looks good," I said.
"Alright." She rolled her shoulder and I heard pops as her bones cracked, "now I need some food. Healing anything burns a lot of calories and I'm starting to get shaky."
I motioned for her to follow down the hall to the break room where the vending machines were.
"So...this is where you work...this place is a shit hole," she said.
"It was a lot nicer before someone smashed into it and wrecked up the place."
"No, I'm sorry to say it, but this place is depressing. There's no color anywhere. Everything it beige and gray. This is like a prison. Destroying this place would be a godsend," she flicked her mace to the side and absentmindedly destroyed a file cabinet with another power blast. Flaming papers flew into the air.
"I'll put a suggestion of color changes when they remodel this place."
"You're not going to stay here, are you? How have you made it this long? I know you whine about this place all the time, but I didn't realize how bad it was. And if you'd told me it was like this I would've thought you were over-exaggerating."
"It's not really that bad. The people are nice, the pay is good..."
"Is the therapy free?" Dana asked.
"...we're actually allowed five free sessions. I found that out."
We were about to turn a corner when Dana spun around. She pointed her mace and fired another half-dozen blasts randomly. Computers sparked, screens melted, file cabinets burst open. The smoke detectors finally kicked on and the sprinklers started spraying water all over the place while sirens blared. Dana laughed and walked into the break room while I followed her.
I reached for my wallet out of habit. Dana simply smashed the front of a snack machine with her mace, shattering the glass. She reached in and started pulling out candy bars, bags of chips, and crackers. When she had a big enough armful she took it to a table and dumped them all into a big pile. She ripped open a chocolate cake package with her teeth and devoured it in two bites. She opened up a bag of cheese gold fish and dumped them all in her mouth.
When she got thirsty took her mace and smashed open the soda machine. A dozen cans of all different varieties spilled onto the floor. She picked up a few and put them next to her mountain of junk food. She opened a few cans one-by-one and guzzled them down like they were water. A can of Dr. Pepper rolled across the floor and bumped into my foot. I bent down, picked it up and opened it. The blood on my hand only caused a little difficulty.
I took a sip and sat down across the table from Dana. It was like I was having a normal break at work. Except for the sprinklers going off down the hall and the sounds of battle and screaming police sirens outside. I grabbed a package of Starburst from her candy mountain and started to open before I thought about how difficult it was going to be with my hands the way they were.
After her fifth can of soda Dana belched so loud the windows rattled.
"The one good thing about getting my ass kicked is that I get to eat like a fat girl for a while. No worries about getting a tummy or a fat ass."
"I find it hard to imagine you getting fat at all."
"I think it would be weird if I did. Being this tall I think it would really draw attention.”
“You would have a much harder time maintaining a secret identity.”
“Thankfully I have my genetic constitution. My people don’t store fat like you do. We also don’t tolerate working in shitholes like this place.”
"I've been thinking about leaving," I said.
"Stop thinking. Do it."
"That's easy for you to say."
"It's easy to do. Stop making excuses."
"I'm not making excuses, there's just a lot of..."
"A lot of nothing. You hate this place, it's making you depressed, it's making you sick. Your skin looks gray. You need to quit and find something else to do." Dana cracked open another soda and drank it. Now she was completely healed. Her burned out eye had gone to milky to completely clear. If parts of her costume weren't shredded no one would be able to tell that she'd been in a fight.
"I keep thinking about what would happen if I got a new job and I hate it there, too."
"Then quit that job! You're not fucking married to it."
"I was actually thinking about going back to school," I said.
"Good. Go do that."
"It's so expensive now."
"That's all that's stopping you? Money?" Dana asked.
"Yeah. As of this point right now I'm debt free. I'm not rich, but I don't owe anyone. I know Beth is to help for a lot of that because otherwise I would be drowning in hospital bills. But I'm scared about getting a loan and not succeeding. Then I'll be miserable AND poor."
"You are so dense sometimes. Money means nothing."
"To you, maybe," I said.
"Exactly. Money is worthless to me. Why haven't you ever asked for any?"
"Because...that's rude?"
"The first time we ever met you mashed your face in my tits. That was ruder than asking for some money."
I blushed at the memory, "That was an accident!"
"Sure. But because of it we're close friends. You can ask me for money."
"No. I'll get by. I don't need your help."
"Except you do. If I don't help you then you'll stay here and whine about your job until you retire or I kill you. So I'm going to help you. One way or another."
"I don't want your money," I said.
"How much are you making at this job? After taxes."
"I think around $36,000 or so, before taxes."
Dana barked out a sharp laugh. "You are living in poverty! This heist I'm working on right now is paying me one-hundred thousand. Guaranteed whether or not Val Amaze successfully steals whatever the fuck she’s after. So even though I got knocked out of the fight and am eating junk food with you I'm still going to make more money today than you will in four years. That's just today! I'm all healed up and could take another job tomorrow if I could find one. Think about that!"
"I am thinking about it. And it's depressing."
"But it shouldn't be," she said, "because it means that I've got a fuck-ton of money I'm not going to get around to spending for a good long while."
"They why do it at all?"
"A girl has gotta' eat. I can't just go around knocking over vending machines every day. I've got expenses like everyone else. I like going on trips. There's also the hidden cost of doing business as a villain. Maintaining a cover identity is super expensive. But that's only if you don't plan ahead. Right now I'm flush with cash and I want to help my friend. So please, please, please! Take the money!"
"I'll...think about it." I said.
"You can treat it like a loan if that makes you feel better. Because I will want my money back. Sending you to school is much different than me springing for a movie ticket. You said you didn't like your allowance you got from Beth. You thought it was demeaning. This way, it's not. I'm like a bank. Except hotter," she replied.
"I will pay you back some day. I promise."
"I know you will. Now let me wreck this place up some more."
"Haven't you done enough damage?"
"Not nearly enough! So far this is only a week's worth of repairs in this city. I want to make sure you can't change your mind."
Dana was standing up and picking her mace off the table when we both heard, "What is going on here?!"
We both turned to look at the door. Kylie stood there, dripping with water.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"Who's this?" Kylie asked.
"Who's this?" Dana asked.
I looked from one to the other. It felt like I'd been caught cheating.
"I didn't see you go into the safety bunkers so I came to make sure you were okay," Kylie said.
"Well...I am. Safe and sound," I sounded like such a moron sometimes. Maybe in my new life when I went back to school, I'd pretend to be mute. Except that reminded me too much of Sarah. I shuddered.
"I can see that. But instead of being pinned under a desk, like I thought, I find you having a snack break with the criminal who destroyed our offices."
"She needed the food to re-grow her face."
"This has to be Kylie," Dana said, "She's chunkier than you described."
"Come on, it's not like she's some giant blob," I said.
"I know the pickings were slim around here, but Luke this is a major downgrade from Beth."
"She wasn't supposed to be anything! It was a mistake!"
"First of all, who's Beth?!" Kylie asked," and second I am not chunky!"
"Some Pilates wouldn't kill you," Dana replied.
"Luke, how do you know this woman?"
"She's my girlfriend's best friend."
"You have a girlfriend?!"
"Yes. I mean, maybe. I don't know. I haven't gotten to speak to her since she went to prison."
"This is completely insane. Your girlfriend is in prison? This is why you broke up with me."
"We were never dating!"
"Yeah, Luke said you guys were only hooking up," Dana said.
"We went out!"
"In a group!" I said, "Always in a group. The only time we ever shared a meal alone together was when you wouldn't stop calling all the time."
"We had a relationship and I don't know why you are so dead-set on acting like it didn't happen," Kylie said.
"Because sleeping with you was a mistake. I'm sorry. I was lonely and depressed and all it ever did was make me feel worse because I love Beth."
"I don't know what I ever saw in you. You're so mean."
"I'm not mean. I'm not trying to be mean. I'm just being honest."
"Finally I get some honesty. Why couldn't you be this honest months ago? Why'd you have to keep leading me on for so long?" Kylie asked.
"I guess it's because I'm a fuckup. I guess."
"Would you two stop bickering? This is giving me a headache," Dana said.
"You stay out of this unless you want me to call the police and have you arrested," Kylie said.
"Oh...you probably shouldn't have said that," I said.
Dana stood up and walked toward Kylie. Kylie tried to look brave, but as Dana approached, her size became fully apparent. The head of the mace was bigger than Kylie's own. Kylie instinctually backed away from Dana.
"It's going to be hard for you to call the police after I've ripped your arms off."
Kylie's chin trembled, she was nearly on the brink of tears, but still she spoke, "You wouldn't."
"I would. Very easily, too. Humans are so, so fragile. I think it would be in everybody's best interest if you forgot you ever saw me here with Luke. In fact, you should probably forget Luke altogether. After today you won't be seeing him anymore anyway."
"What do you mean?"
"He's quitting. Effective immediately. So go back to the shelter and act like this never happened. Sound good, sweetie?"
Kylie nodded. She gave me one last look then scurried out into the sprinkler soaked hallway.
Dana turned to face me. She had a big smile on her face.
"I think that went well. She seemed nice."
