CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Dinner was a total chore. The restaurant was absurdly expensive, considering it was just “tapas” and we pretty much had to pay $50 each for a bunch of tiny appetizers and weak drinks. But neither Dex nor I made a peep about it. We had other things on our minds.
Their mutual friends, Sarah and Jorge, were nice enough. A yuppie couple who made it big on the internet back in the 90s. At least Jorge did. Sarah seemed to be his third wife, but she was Jenn’s college friend and there was a weird competition between them. Every time Sarah flattered Jorge on how well his stocks were doing, or whatever they were talking about, Jenn bristled all up like a porcupine and then mentioned how well Wine Babes was doing in the ratings. She never once mentioned Dex. I guess because Dex wasn’t technically doing all that well for himself, at least not financially. The truth was, Experiment in Terror had still yet to make it big, despite the copycats out there.
Dex seemed withdrawn and disinterested in the conversation and his food. Only his drinks got his attention. I was surprised that after three drinks, he was still as coherent as usual. I thought the Valium would have done more than make him see the ghost of his ex-girlfriend. But I suppose that was probably the worst side effect any medication could ever have.
I couldn’t help but think about Abby throughout the whole excursion. It made me think that the reason Dex was on medication was because he was seeing ghosts. But if that was the case, it was wrong, not to mention unfair. I saw ghosts too, but I wasn’t carted off to shrinks and prescribed shit. Why were ghosts seen as a mental illness instead of just fact? Or at least a fact that was accepted, if not understood? It seemed like cheating, kind of. Then again, I never knew why he was on his medication. I had Hasselback tell me, but Dex never actually answered that one. I made a mental note to ask him later.
I was also frightened about the whole thing. How long had Abby been trying to terrify him? Was she in his apartment every night for the past five-odd years? Or was she only there because I was there…because I was either weird competition, or because she knew my abilities. Maybe after years of trying to get through to Dex, she finally found someone who listened: Me. But why? What did she have left to say? Did she blame Dex for what happened to her? Was she out for revenge…or worse, whatever worse could be?
Yeah, I was terrible company and so was Dex. Jenn had to spend most of the meal handling the conversation. I didn’t feel bad for her, though. She was the one who saw her beloved sitting in an empty alleyway, head between his knees, hiding from a nightmare, and she acted like it wasn’t a big deal at all. I didn’t understand her one bit and I was liking her less and less by the second. I didn’t even think that was possible.
Unfortunately, whatever I thought about Jenn didn’t matter because as soon as dinner was over and we were back at the apartment, she scooted me into my room.
“Go put on something sexy, Perry,” she said throatily, her voice going all Scarlett Johansson again. She hadn’t forgotten about the whole clubbing thing.
I paused in the door, held my stance and looked at Dex fearfully. Not only did I not want to go clubbing, but I especially did not want to leave Dex alone in the apartment with Abby on the prowl.
But to my amazement, Dex said, “Just go, Perry, you’ll have fun.”
My mouth dropped. “Dex. I am not leaving you here!”
I froze when I realized what I’d said.
“Leave him here? What are you talking about?” Jenn asked, her voice building with each word.
I quickly looked at Dex. He gave me a very quick, poignant look that said “please don’t say anything.”
I took in a deep breath and somehow found the strength to smile at Jenn. “I mean, it’s not really fair to leave him here while we go out and have fun.”
“Phhfff,” Jenn said, waving her hand at him. She walked over to me and pushed me into my room. “You know he’d hate it. Now quickly get dressed.”
She shut the door. I was quickly enveloped in the dark but switched on the light before the terror seized me. Part of me could not leave Dex here, would not leave him. But the other part told me I just might have to. He was trying to save face and act like nothing was wrong.
Well, as long as I had time to myself in the room, I had time to switch his pills all back. Even though I was tempted to continue on with the experiment, I didn’t want to put him through any more terror or pain. Whatever his pills were for, the fact that I just switched some of them, the pills that had to do with delusions, it couldn’t have just been a coincidence. Whether it could be proved or not, I felt partly, if not fully, responsible for what happened in the alley.
I brought out my duffel bag from beside the bed and brought out all of my clothes, strewing them across the pistachio bed. I reached into the bottom of the bag. And found nothing but powder.
I opened the bag wider against the light and peeked in, my chest heaving. All the pills were crushed. There was nothing but a white and yellow powder lining the bottom of the bag. What the f*ck?
My hands flew up to my mouth in horror. What happened? How did the pills get crushed? I thought about earlier when I was shoving clothes in my bag. I was rough, but not enough to crush a handful of pills. What the hell could have done that?
Then I looked at the bag again. The outside was covered with a lot of fine white hair. Dog hair. Could Fat Rabbit have stomped all over the bag? He didn’t seem big enough to do enough damage, but then again, his name started with the word “Fat” and he was known for pissing people off.
And that was the end of that idea. I couldn’t replace Dex’s pills with dust. I couldn’t do anything now but watch him unravel, watch his nerves fry as Abby came and did her worst.
But that couldn’t be it. It couldn’t be. It had to be a coincidence. How could pills prevent you from seeing ghosts? If that were true, wouldn’t I have been on something similar in high school…
I pushed that thought out of my head. I didn’t want to conjure up Jacob at a time like this. There were far more important things to worry about. Like Dex. And going clubbing with Jenn.
I sighed and quickly shoved on the skinny jeans I had, the raspberry heels and a plain white tank top. I didn’t bother with my face or my hair. I honestly did not care. In fact, if I could have covered myself with ghoulish makeup, I would have done so.
I opened the door (after shoving the duffel bag and its powdery evidence underneath the bed) and stepped out into the living room. Dex was gone, the door to the bedroom closed. Just Jenn stood in the living room, flipping through the TV stations.
At the sound of me, she turned around and gave me the once over. “Is that what you’re wearing?”
I looked down at myself. Suddenly the tune of “Makeover, Makeover” from Clone High rang through my head but luckily Jenn wasn’t on the same plane. She just nodded and said, “Whatever, it works.”
“Where’s Dex?” I asked, eyeing their door.
“Sleeping, reading, I don’t know,” she said and gestured for me to come forward. “Come on, let’s get going.”
I eyed the clock in the kitchen as I walked over to her. “It’s only ten. Are we in a rush?”
“No, no,” she said breezily, smiling at me. “Just getting a head start on the fun.”
She turned and walked to the door. I followed, suspicious of everything and everyone. I wanted nothing more than to go into Dex’s room and make sure he was OK, but I knew that would only get him in trouble. So I steadied my nerves and followed Jenn out the door.
We took a cab to the venue, since Jenn planned to get quite drunk. Those were her actual words on the elevator down: “I hope you know I’m going to get quite drunk, Perry.”
That was fine with me. I was curious to see how drunk Jenn would compare to sober Jenn. Maybe she was less bitchy, less selfish and more vulnerable.
Well, 20 minutes into our arrival at the douchiest nightclub in the Pacific Northwest, I found out that drunk Jenn was the same as sober Jenn. Just…amplified.
“I need another drink,” she said, trying to wave down the bartender who was doing quite a good job of ignoring us the whole time. The music was on a continuous suck cycle except for the occasional addition of Kylie Minogue or Lady Gaga. We were occasionally getting sized up by guys but neither of us had been hit on at this point.
I wasn’t surprised by this when it came to myself (I definitely wasn’t slutty enough) but I thought Jenn would have been approached at least a few times already. She was a Wine Babe after all, and she did get recognized quite often. Here, though, that wasn’t the case. And the drunker she got, the more she picked up on it.
“You’re so lucky, Perry,” she said, bringing my head out of another worrying daydream about Dex.
I frowned at her. “How do you mean?”
“Well look at you,” she said while chewing on her straw and waving at me up and down. “You could become as thin as I am and you’d still have boobs.”
Was that a compliment or…
“OK,” I said. I raised my glass to my mouth and shot the rest of the drink back in one go.
“No, I mean it,” she said, slapping me lightly on my arm. I raised my brow at her, feeling the tiniest bit of instinct to fight her. Which was not usual, I swear.
“Sure you could stand to lose a few pounds but your boobs are huge so even if you got skinny, you’d still have them. When I lose weight, mine are the first to go.”
She stood there, poking at her boobs through her top. I bit my lip and clenched my fist around my drink, trying to push down the angry swell that I felt rising through me.
“Well, just be glad I am the way I am,” I managed to answer. “Otherwise, I’d be taking over your job. And that would just be the beginning.”
And I smiled at her, big and bright.
Jenn looked shocked. Then she laughed, nervously at first, then just drunk and stupid. “You’re pretty funny, Perry. I can see why Dex likes you. He likes to laugh at things.”
My smile tightened. My grip froze. There were so many things I wanted to say, but Jenn’s head flew around in a whirlwind when the next song came on. It was actually a dance song I didn’t mind, LCD Soundsystem’s “North American Scum.”
She grabbed my arm and said, “Oh we must dance to this.”
Oh crap. I put my empty drink on the bar and let her lead me to the floor.
I’m not a good dancer. I know this. I like to either groove slowly or just go all out. I only did the latter with people I knew and trusted. In this case, I was doing the slow, timid white girl bump and grind. But Jenn, she was going all out. First she started by rubbing up all over me like I was the dude, then she started making eyes at me. It was f*cking weird, like a total nightmare. I’m not kidding. If I foresaw this scene a month ago, I would have shit myself.
Of course it wasn’t for me. It wasn’t about having fun with me or making me feel comfortable. It was about teasing the men who were watching, making us look like we were about to make out. No wonder Rebecca hated her so much.
Jenn continued to do this for the entire song (let’s add “North American Scum” to “Maxwell Silver Hammer” in the “songs I used to like until Dex and Jenn ruined them for me” pile) but after not being approached by any guys, she slinked off the dance floor, all downtrodden. She took me by the hand and back to the bar, where she tried to get the bartenders attention again.
“I don’t get it,” she said, looking absolutely defeated. Her eyes were welling up with tears. It scared me. It meant I was going to have to make her feel better and I did not want to do that. She did not deserve it.
“It’s cuz I’m old,” she sniffed and delicately rubbed the corners of her exotic eyes.
“Um, you’re thirty one Jenn. That’s nothing.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re twenty two...”
>
“Twenty three, actually.”
“Whatever,” she said and took a bar napkin to her nose. “You’re like almost ten years younger than me. You have your whole future ahead of you. All this promise and possibility. What do I have? Nothing. Just a few more years and everyone will move onto someone younger.”
She sniffled again. With her curly, sienna hair falling across her face, she looked younger than her age. Her attitude helped bring her down a few pegs too. She was a gorgeous, stunning girl. At least, she was to anyone who didn’t know her. She probably wasn’t getting approached or hit on because she seemed either too desperate or the opposite, too secure. And the fact was, she had a boyfriend. And he was at home, in their room, scared to death and feeling alone. And she was here, with me, complaining about how unattractive she was. I was torn between feeling sorry for her and sympathizing with her, and wanting to punch her lights out for being a stupid, selfish bitch.
Of course, I didn’t punch her lights out. I sucked in my pride. “Look, I’ll buy you a drink.”
I waved at the bartender and for some reason, I was able to get his attention and not her. I ordered us both shots of Jaeger and more vodka sevens.
When the shots came and Jenn gave the bartender the bitchiest look, I raised my glass to her, trying to find hidden reserves of strength deep inside myself. I was cheering my enemy in an attempt to make her feel better. What was wrong with me?
Jenn clinked the shot glass, smiled and downed it. Half of it almost came back up again, but she buried that with the seven. Then her phone beeped.
She fished it out of her bag excitedly. My first thought was that it was Dex, but judging from the subtle way she grinned to herself, I knew it wasn’t.
I watched her text back and then put the phone away. She kept smiling and noticed me watching her.
“Oh, that was Bradley,” she said. Uh huh. That figured.
“Yeah?”
“He was in the area and he’s going to stop by.”
I remembered what Rebecca said. They were a pair of f*cks. She had a theory. Suddenly, I had that same theory.
“So I finally get to meet this Bradley?” I asked, wondering how to phrase my next sentence. “Wasn’t he the guy Rebecca wanted to set me up with?”
“You don’t get everyone,” Jenn sneered, slamming her drink hard on the counter. It made me jump. It made the people next to us jump. The Latino in Jenn was coming out.
I raised my hands in surrender. “I never said I wanted Bradley. I’ve got a boyfriend back in Portland anyway.”
“Oh?” She seemed floored. “You do? Oh. Well…who is he? Dex never mentioned him.”
“His name is Brock. I just started dating him. I don’t tell Dex everything,” I lied.
She nodded quickly, composing herself. The look of relief flooded across her brow. And for the next bit, Jenn was a lot more relaxed with me. Drunk, but the competition mode was turned off, at least a smidge.
Soon, Bradley showed up. Actually, it was really soon. As if he was in the same club with us this whole time.
“Perry, this is Bradley,” Jenn said as a tall, strikingly handsome man gave her a quick hug and turned his sights on me.
He was tall and well built, in a dapper shirt. Longish light brown hair, a stylish five o’clock shadow, sparkling blue eyes and one hell of a devilish grin.
I shook his outstretched hand. He smiled, perfect teeth that matched Jenn’s in the veneer category, and cocked his head to the side. “So you’re the girl…”
“I’m the girl?”
“Yes. The girl who somehow tore Mr. Foray from the Wine Babes. I’m surprised.”
How amusing. “Oh yeah, how is that?”
“You’re taller than I thought.”
“I’m wearing really high heels,” I answered. “Was that it?”
My voice was totally accusatory. I was sure my face was as well. I didn’t have to listen to Bradley any more to know Rebecca’s assertion was correct.
“Nice to meet you, Perry,” Bradley said, and then pointed upstairs. He turned to Jenn. “Jenn, there’s a friend of mine I’d like you to meet.”
He looked at me quickly, all false charm. “Perry, you don’t mind. I’ll return her soon. I’m sure you won’t be here alone for long.”
Before I could open my mouth to say anything, Jenn and Bradley walked off across the club, toward the stairs. I watched them like a hawk the whole time. Just as they were about to disappear from view, I saw him put his arm around Jenn’s waist.
I was so angry. Not only was I just ditched in some shitty-assed night club, but it was quite obvious that Jenn and Bradley were having an affair, or something close to it. I felt the frustration fill up my veins and turned my attention to the bar. Once again, I got the bartender’s attention pretty quickly, which was a needed ego boost, especially after all of Jenn’s comments. I ordered a glass of Jack on the rocks in honor of Dex and sipped it slowly. I gave Jenn and Bradley as long as the drink. If they didn’t return by the time I was done, I was leaving.
It took me twenty minutes to drink it. It was the longest- lasting drink of my life. Then I texted Jenn and told her that I was thinking about heading back to the apartment. I waited for a response to that but after ten minutes, there was nothing.
F*ck that.
I marched out of the club, ignoring the gross leers of the grody men in there, and got the first cab that was waiting outside. It took me straight to Dex’s apartment.
In the meantime, I got a text from Jenn that said, “Oh, you are? We’re just upstairs with friends, are you sure you don’t want to wait around?” Again, f*ck that.
I got out of the cab and, after tipping the cabbie too much, I looked up at the apartment. Dex was standing on the balcony, looking down at me with a feeling of shock. He was smoking, a cloud of it surrounding his head despite the slight breeze.
“Perry?” he said, sounding scared. “Is Jenn with you?”
I turned and watched the cab drive away. “Obviously not. Can you let me in?”
He nodded and put the smoke out on an ashtray. I went to the door and was buzzed in.
He answered their door in plaid pajama pants and a grey T-shirt. His eyes were red and he reeked of pot. He stuck his head out into the hallway, looking all paranoid.
“I’m not with Jenn,” I told him again, and pushed past him into the apartment. I leaned against the kitchen counter and kicked my wretched shoes off. They hurt like hell and almost fell off a bunch of times while dancing.
“What happened? Why are you home so soon?” he asked, sounding panicky.
I leaned against the counter and put my head down on it.
“I don’t know. Clubbing sucks,” I mumbled. I didn’t know what to say. Part of me wanted to tell Dex what I thought about Jenn and Bradley, or at least to mention he was there on our “girls” night and that they ditched me. But the other part felt that if I did that, she would deny it and I would look like his psycho jealous partner.
“Where’s Jenn?”
I opened my eyes and stared blankly at the far wall, glad he wasn’t in my line of sight.
“She saw some friends and wanted to stay. I didn’t. So I came back.”
“Oh. Well, did you have fun?”
I turned my head the other way to look at him. “Do you think I had fun, Dex?”
He smiled to himself and let out a funny giggle. “OK then.”
He walked over to the couch and plopped down on it. “Want to join me?”
“What are you doing?”
“Watching Mitchell. Mystery Science Theatre 3000. I know you love it. We’ve had drunken conversations about it.”
“That works out well then. Cuz I’m drunk right now.”
“And I’m high,” he said, and patted the space beside him on the couch.
I was drunk, drunk enough to know that sitting next to him wouldn’t be a good idea, especially after all I found out tonight. So I sat down on the armchair, splaying my body across it like Fat Rabbit, who was doing a similar pose on the rug in front of the television’s blue glow.
Dex pressed play and started laughing away. I’d seen the episode enough that I didn’t need to pay attention. I focused my attention on him. He had a stupid look on his face and his eyes were red, but I was guessing it was from the pot and not because he saw Abby again. Perhaps pot wasn’t a bad idea for him after all. Anything that kept him smiling and not cowering in an alley in fear was a good thing.
After we watched about half the movie, Dex lowered the volume and said, “How are you kiddo?”
I turned my body over and shrugged. “Tired.”
“All danced out?”
I laughed. “No. Not danced out.”
“You should learn to dance one day. It’s fun.”
“Excuse me,” I gave him a look. “I know how to dance.”
“Oh really,” he said, straightening up on the couch, giving me a flirty look.
“What?”
“I’d like to see these dance moves.”
“I’m sure you will on Friday.”
“Oh, come on baby.”
I paused at that. He hadn’t called me baby since our time on the island. He didn’t seem to notice though. He got up, a bit wobbly, and walked over to the stereo.
“I bet Jenn has some good dance music,” he said, flipping through the settings.
“Dex…I’m not dancing. I’m tired. I’m done. I’m going to sleep soon. It’s like the middle of the night.”
He ignored me and settled on the recognizable synth beats of Lady Gaga’s “Poker Face.” He cocked his finger at me.
“No, no way,” I protested.
But he turned it up. And as soon as the backbeats broke in…Dex started dancing.
I tried not to laugh but it was impossible. My face cracked open and the resulting guffaw scared Fat Rabbit enough that he ran away into the kitchen. Either that scared him, or it was Dex’s dancing, which was silly and over the top, yet still skilled. I hadn’t forgotten that the boy knew how to dance; he was quite adept at it at the bar in Red Fox.
“Come on,” he said, waving his hands at me. He started singing along with the chorus and doing Madonna face moves. The volume went up again.
And so did I.
I got to my feet and started dancing like an idiot. And when I say idiot, I mean doing the hustle, the lawnmower, the skier, the shopper, the sprinkler system.
By the time “Bad Romance” started pumping through the speakers, both Dex and I were helicoptering and jiving in a circle in the living room. Fat Rabbit stopped being afraid of us and tried to get in between us, wiggling his little butt around.
I was just drunk enough to start singing along with this song; all the lyrics were way to applicable to our situation. But he sang them too. It was surprising that he knew them, but then again, how did I?
“Are you sure this is Jenn’s CD?” I asked suspiciously, breathing hard between moves.
“It might not be.” He didn’t hide his sheepish look.
By the time he got to singing the French parts of the song (which he pronounced perfectly) I was starting to feel awkward. Stupid sexy language. But Dex just grinned at me, put his arms around my waist and pulled me closer to him, so we were doing a sort of fast-paced slow dance.
Our bodies were moving, our hips were grinding against each other. Sweat was flying. Our faces were close, mouths grinning, shared intoxication.
And then the song ended.
“What the hell?”
Dex and I immediately took our hands off of each other and turned to the doorway. Jenn was standing there, looking haggard and drunk.
“Perry,” she said, shutting the door behind her and stumbling over to us. “Why did you leave like that?”
She turned her attention to Dex, not seeming to find a problem with the way we were dancing, or the humor in finding of us both dancing like idiots to Lady Gaga.
The next song came on, which made us jump, and Dex quickly turned it off. Jenn just watched him with her sloppy eyes until his attention was back on her again. Then she continued, “I went to get some drinks with some people and then Perry just left. Just like that.”
Seriously? Was that seriously her version of events? She eyed me so fast it was almost imperceptible, which told me she was afraid I would contradict her. I wanted to. Did I ever. But what would be the point.
Dex didn’t even bother looking at me. I think he could tell that it wasn’t something I did on purpose. He put his hand on Jenn’s head. “It’s OK, I’m sure it was a misunderstanding. Time for bed, OK?”
Jenn nodded and stumbled past us toward the bedroom.
The door closed. I looked up at Dex. “I didn’t ditch her.”
“I know you didn’t. I’m surprised you went out with her in the first place. That was really big of you.”
“Really?”
He walked over to the kitchen and poured us both a glass of water. “I know you, kiddo. That was one for the team and I appreciate it. I don’t think you could ever get out of my good books for that one.”
I sipped at the water. I wasn’t too sure about that. I looked him over. “How are you? While I was gone…did you…see anything?”
He shook his head. “No, thank God. Maybe the pot helped. Or being distracted. Or just having the dog here. I felt fine enough to dance with you, so I guess I’ve been doing OK.”
“I was worried about you,” I admitted.
“I know,” he said, placing a hand on my shoulder and slowly leading us back to our rooms. “And knowing that you were, it made me feel…safe.” >
That warmed me a little.
“Good night, Dex,” I said, stepping into my room.
“Good night, Perry,” he said in return. I shut the door and climbed into bed. I finished half the glass of water and then closed my eyes. As I drifted off, my thoughts turned to Dex. I wondered what would have happened between us had Jenn not come home so early.