Jay had never thought of himself
as a typical male but that joke about men always wanting a sandwich or a nap
after sex was apparently completely true.
Sarah wanted to talk about their feelings or whatever but he just wanted
to eat or sleep.
She asked
what he was thinking and before he could second guess himself he told the
truth, that he was hungry and that removing condoms full of jizz was a delicate
and disgusting operation and also that Captain Archer was a total idiot and
Scott Bakula was horribly miscast.
“That’s
what you were thinking?” She sounded
horrified.
“No, I was thinking
about how pretty you are and uh, how you’re so great and stuff,” he smiled
awkwardly.
“You’re so
full of it!” she screeched.
He shushed
her out of instinct, but then remembered that her parents weren’t home. They went out a lot, which was awesome. His parents never went out. So far they’d only had sex at his house once
and it had been pretty quick, literally two minutes under the Transformers
blanket in the basement while his parents were upstairs. Now there was a jizz stain on the blanket and
Jay laughed to himself any time Willy fell asleep on it.
“Do you
think what we’re doing is wrong?” asked Sarah as she got dressed.
“What do
you mean?”
“You know,
going out in secret or whatever.”
“I dunno.” The truth is he didn’t really care but he
wasn’t sure what answer Sarah was looking for.
“I guess
what people don’t know can’t hurt them,” she said with a giggle.
“Yeah,” Jay
nodded, wondering if now was a good time to ask for that sandwich.
To make
things a little more economical Willy had agreed to split a pitcher with Tom,
while Karl nursed a glass of water like a total pussy and Vani kept dancing
with Cavity, which was kinda bad-ass ‘cause sometimes he’d get to touch her and
stuff.
“Cavity’s
cute,” said Willy.
“Who?”
asked Tom.
“Cassie.”
“Yeah,
she’s ok.”
“I dunno
why she insists on going out with Jojo the freakin’ monkey dog.”
“Monkey
dog?” asked Karl. Was he smirking more
than usual or just the usual amount?
Whatever, Karl was a total loser, all drinking water like a loser and
stuff.
“Whatever,
point is it’s a waste of a cute chick.”
“What do
you care?” asked Karl. “I thought you
were into Cerise.”
“You’re
into Cerise?” asked Tom, all like shocked or whatever.
“Yeah! I mean like, so are you!”
“Yeah,
she’s awesome! I mean right?” nodded
Tom.
They looked
to Karl for confirmation and he admitted she was pretty cool.
“Pretty
cool?” asked Willy.
“She’s more
than pretty cool,” said Tom.
“She’s like
awesome.”
“Yeah
totally, she’s like…”
“Awesome.”
“Yeah.”
“I suppose
she’s fairly attractive,” shrugged Karl.
“Fairly
attractive?” shrieked Willy, maybe a little loudly.
“She’s
beautiful!” said Tom just as loudly.
“She
redefines hot!”
“She’s
like…”
“Hot!”
“Yeah.”
“She has a
good sense of humour,” suggested Karl.
“A good
sense of humour?”
“She’s like
totally hilarious!” said Tom.
“She gets
all our jokes!”
“She
doesn’t think they’re lame!”
“Even when
they are!”
“She like,
gets it.”
“Yeah, it’s
like…”
“She gets
it.”
“She’s
quite intelligent as well,” said Karl.
“Quite
intelligent?!”
“She’s like
a fucking genius!”
“Yeah,
she’s like Sarah level smart, or even like you level smart.”
“She
fucking kicks ass in all her classes without even like studying or whatever.”
“Yeah, and
she’s really smart about it too.”
“Yeah,
she’s like…”
“Smart.”
Karl
nodded. “Plus she’s fun to hang out
with.”
“Fun to
hang out with?!”
“She’s a
riot! She’s like the most funnest person
ever!”
“She’s
always into having a good time and shit.”
“Yeah, she
digs you know, fun stuff. It’s like…”
“Fun.”
“And she’s
into sci-fi and everything,” Karl pointed out.
“Into
sci-fi and…”
“Everything! She thought my band rocked! And like…”
“She creams
all over Star Trek.”
“Yeah, she
thought about it a lot. She had like
insight and shit.”
“She did?”
“Yeah
totally. It was like…”
“Cool.”
“Yeah.”
“Plus she’s
really cute,” said Karl.
“Cute?”
“She’s
fucking hot!”
“She’s
totally hot.”
“Would you
shut the fuck up?” snarled Tom suddenly.
“What?”
“You can’t
have her!”
“Shut
up! It could happen.”
Karl
laughed and Willy shot him a look he hoped would shut him up but he just
laughed harder.
“She’s
mine,” insisted Tom, like a total delusional retard.
“Didn’t she
like dump your ass?”
“Yeah! She’s evil!”
“Totally. All chicks are evil,” agreed Willy.
Both Tom
and Willy slumped down onto the table and Karl patted their backs, actually
going so far as to say “there, there.”
“Shauna,
when was the last time we had sex?”
Oh
Christ. Did they really have to have
this conversation now? Couldn’t they
just keep watching Survivor? But Stan
had paused it half way through to ask his stupid question and he likely wasn’t
going to give up the remote.
“I dunno,”
she mumbled.
“Is it ever
gonna happen again?” he asked angrily.
Not if she
could help it. Shauna couldn’t even
begin to describe how deeply she didn’t want to have sex with Stan. She didn’t want to have sex with Rod or Bill
either. She didn’t want anyone touching
her. She just wanted to be alone and to
watch Survivor in peace. She looked at
Stan and couldn’t think of a reason to lie.
“No.”
“Then what
the fuck?! Are you my girlfriend or
not?”
“I guess
not.”
“Then what
the fuck are you doing here?”
“Why can’t
you just leave me alone?” she said, curling up into the edge of the sofa and
trying not to cry.
“Because
you live here! You’re always here but
you never do shit! What the fuck
happened to you? For like, a month there
you were so happy and now you’re all depressed again. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Nothing!”
“Are you
like, bi-polar or something? ‘Cause I
looked it up on the internet and it kinda sounds like you.”
“God, just
leave me alone!” Maybe she was bi-polar
or maybe she was just sick of sweaty, disgusting guys always being on her all
the time.
“No! You’re my fucking girlfriend, Shauna and I
wanna know what’s wrong with you!”
“Nothing’s
wrong with me!” she screamed, clutching a pillow like a shield.
“Yes there
is something fucking wrong with you.
There’s something fucked up in your fuck-ugly head!”
She
couldn’t take it. How could she be
expected to keep tolerating his grossness?
How dare he accuse her of being fucked up when he was a total creep? “I hate you!” she hollered, jumping up and
throwing the pillow at him.
“What the
fuck?” he said, tossing the pillow aside and standing up, looming over her.
“I hate
you!” She hit him.
He easily
deflected her punch and she tried to hit him again. He pushed her aside and she fell down to the
floor.
“I hate you
so much!”
“Then why
the fuck are you living here?”
“I’m
not!” She scrambled to her feet and ran
into the bedroom. Without thinking, she
opened her drawers and pulled everything out, gathering it all into a
ball. Before Stan had even reached the
bedroom she was rushing out and going to the kitchen where she dumped
everything onto the table.
He asked
what the fuck she was doing but she ignored him as she got out a garbage
bag.
“You think
you’re leaving?” he asked as she stuffed all her junk into the black bag. “You can’t leave.”
“Why the
fuck not?” She tried to walk out but he
blocked the kitchen door.
“Because I
love you!”
She looked
him right in the eye. “I don’t care.”
“But what
about us?” he asked, with a quiver in his voice.
For a brief
moment Shauna thought she might be evil because she took a good deal of
pleasure from seeing Stan in pain like this.
He deserved the pain. He was an
asshole and she liked seeing him hurt.
She was a total bitch and she liked it.
“There is no us,” she said with a level voice. “There never was. The fact is, you’re no good to me
anymore. You’ve run out of friends.”
“What the
hell does that mean?” he asked angrily, revealing his true self. The asshole self.
“There’s no
one left for me to fuck,” she said with a smile.
He made
some sort of gurgling sound and she tried to push past him once again but he
grabbed her hair and pulled her back. It
hurt like a mother-fucker!
“Let go of
me!” she shrieked.
“What the
fuck did you just say?”
He still
had hold of her hair but she didn’t care anymore. He could do whatever he wanted. In fact, she might prefer it if he did. She might become famous if he killed
her. “I fucked Rod and Bill. And they were both better than you!”
“You
fucking cunt!”
He yanked
on her hair and she screamed as she resisted, trying to pry away from him. He kept pulling and she reached back to hold
on to the bundle of hair, trying to yank it free. It was no use so she moved forward inch by
inch, holding her hair as Stan pulled backed.
She kicked out and flung out her free hand but it was no use. Stan actually laughed at her feeble efforts
and called her a whore.
She pulled
forward slightly, just enough to reach for the junk drawer. She pulled it open and reached inside,
cutting herself on something but not caring.
She fumbled for what she wanted and pulled out the scissors
triumphantly. She pointed them back at
him and he eased his grip slightly as he dodged her jab. She opened the scissors and flung her arm
back, snipping randomly. She nicked her
hand but kept going and sure enough she was cutting her hair.
“What the
fuck?!” Stan finally let go and gobs of hair fell to the floor.
“You want
my hair so much, go ahead and keep it.”
Just for effect she grabbed another strand of hair from her head and
chopped it off, then flung it at Stan.
She threw
the scissors to the floor and grabbed her garbage bag of clothes, then raced
out of the kitchen as Stan stood there, gobsmacked.
She ran to
the front door of the stupid, shitty apartment and put on her coat and
boots. Stan came up to her and accused
her of stealing his stuff; that everything she was taking was really his.
“You sound
like my father,” she snarked.
“Well what
do you expect when you act like a kid?
You look really fucking retarded you know, with your hair half short,
half long.
“Stan, go
fuck yourself.” And with that she slung
the garbage bag over her shoulder, opened the front door and left. He called after her, calling her a cunt and a
bitch and a ho and slut and whatever else but she didn’t care. She was free.
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