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Chapter Six - Tracianne“God, I’m so bored already,” I texted Diamond.
“Damn girl. One dip in the pool and you outta shit to do?”
I snapped a pic of my frowny face and sent it to her.
“You lookin’ good poolside. That new stepbrother of yours checking you out? LOL!” she asked.
I sent her a puke emoji and then I looked back at the house. Phil wasn’t staring at me from his bedroom window, was he?
I was probably being paranoid, just like I had been about the sprinklers that automatically came on, when I thought it was him doing it on purpose.
God, that would be just icing on the cake, though, if he were looking at me now. Big fucking know-it-all, lecturing me about the virus like he’s the WHO.
Who died and made him King of All Knowledge?
I texted Gillian. She was less gregarious. I wanted a mellow conversation.
“Hey, Gil,” my text said.
“Hey.”
“How are you doing?”
She called instead of texting back. Guess she was feeling cooped up.
“I’m okay, I guess. But my parents are already driving me nuts. I have to get out of here!” she said over Facetime.
“Where would you go?”
“Anywhere! I just wanna go to Starbucks and hang out. Or a bar. Yeah, a bar would be sweet right now. Wish we had a pool like your family.”
“You’re not missing much. I’m already bored with it,” I relayed. “One swim and I’m all done. I’ll be all day washing and fixing my hair just for a dip. It’s almost not worth it because it takes forever to undo the damage.”
“Why? You can’t go anywhere. Who cares how you look?”
“Well, I do,” I countered. “I don’t want to completely slob out over this.”
“Oh, fuck that. I’m already in sweats. I’m not shaving or anything until this over.”
“Gil!”
“Well, what’s the point? My family lives out in the sticks. You have to get into a car to see anyone,” she lamented.
“At least you can go for walks in the woods, right?”
“Yeah, that’s true. That’ll be nice, I guess. For a while. But shit. I think I may be a functional alcoholic. I’m going through withdrawal!”
“No, you’re not. You’re like a two-beer chump, Gil.”
“That’s not true! Remember Margarita Night?”
“That doesn’t count. That bottle of tequila was so tiny and the mix we had— that was like a ten to one ratio!”
“Still, I had like three of them.”
“Yeah and you still passed out,” I laughed.
“And what about that time with you and Jared?” she reminded me. “Oh, Jared, that’s so interesting! Oh, Jared, you’re so tall and smart! Oh, Jared, take me!”
She mimicked how I’d sounding, making me feel mortified.
“I didn’t even go out with Jared,” I was quick to counter. “He was just talking to me at the bar that time.”
“He was warm for your form. You should’ve gone home with him.”
“I barely know him!” I objected. “Besides, he didn’t make a move. A man has to make a move on me.”
“Whoa, look at you with your standards,” she joked. “You were pretty tipsy that night. I’m surprised you didn’t end up going home with someone.”
“Diamond did.”
“Diamond always goes home with someone,” she noted. “No offense, but that girl will spread for anybody.”
“Gil! That’s not nice.”
“It’s true, Traci. You know it. Remember that weightlifter she brought back to the dorm? God, he was a maniac. Kept showing up to the room looking for her— I mean, he was in love with her.”
“She does attract men like magnets.”
“And that other guy. Dave? Dan?”
“Sam?”
“Yeah, Sam! She starts dating him and then he goes Goth and then Diamond tries to be Goth. Remember how we talked her out of getting her clit pierced?”
“Oh, God. So gross!”
“They say it enhances everything, though,” Gillian pointed out. “You haven’t thought about it?”
“No! Holy shit. I squealed when I got my ears pierced. I think I’d have a heart attack and die if I got my, well, you know, pierced.”
“Why are you whispering?”
“My stepbrother’s lurking somewhere. I don’t want him to hear me say things.”
“No offense, but I would do him.”
“Gil! God! I texted you because I thought I wouldn’t get this kind of conversation from you! Diamond is already planning on meeting some guy.”
“She lives in Jersey City. That place is so densely populated, you could meet a guy going to take out your trash in the hall.”
“They put their trash in the hall?”
“In a slot. In an apartment building.”
“Oh, right,” I laughed. “I was picturing tiny trashcans in the hall and that the apartment landlord would pick them up.”
“In what?” laughed Gillian. “A tiny trash truck? Didn’t you ever see Seinfeld? The characters live in an apartment in New York.”
“They wouldn’t show the trash on TV,” I scoffed.
“Why not? It’s not illegal. And I think they did in one episode,” she pointed out. “Maybe that’s what I should do. Binge watch Seinfeld and Curb Your Enthusiasm again.”
