“I beg your finest pardon, my dear fellow! Twas a mishap of thine own accord, methinks,” the short guyapologizes to me…I think?
“Um, no worries dude, just an accident.” I smile and turn to put my can on the counter when Ellora pops out of nowhere again, grabbing my arm and pulling me.
“Come on, I have some oversized band tees that would probably fit you,” she says by way of explanation. She leads me to what must be Delaney’s bedroom.
I guess this is DelaneyandEllora’sbedroom now.
I quickly glance around the plum-purple room. The bed is made up with deep maroon bedding, shelves of tinctures of what I believe to be potions line the walls. Mahogany furniture fills the small space. It is all very medieval. I can’t say it isn’t a nice break for my eyes from all the pastels and pops of colour in the rest of the apartment, but knowing that it is now an intimate space Delaney shares with my sister makes me feel intrusive.
“Are you sure?” I ask Lor, not sure if I’m asking permission to borrow the shirt, be in her personal space, or both.
She waves a hand at me. “It’s totally fine. I have a million of these.” She pulls an oldObituarydeath metal tee out and holds it up to my frame. “Should be good. Leave your sweater in the washroom hamper, and I’ll give it back to you after it’s washed.” Ellora points to a second door leading to a small en suite I hadn’t noticed.
“Thanks, Lor,” I say swiftly as she turns to leave, shutting the bedroom door behind her.
I make my way to the bathroom which is another shockingly different decor. It’s completely monochrome. White tile floors gleam in stark contrast against obsidian black accents. I spot the black hamper by the brilliantly white porcelain toilet. Just to my left, my eye catches on some colour. Three towels, in bright primary colours, hang a little higher than average on a pristine white wall. It feels purposeful, a splash of colour amongst the black and white. I pull my sweater over my head and toss it in the hamper. I wash my hands, ridding them of the sticky pop. In just my—thankfully dry—jeans that hang low on my hips, I reenter the bedroom aiming for the band tee laid on the bed for me.
If Lane doesn’t make it big in theatre, she should think about interior design. It’s crazy decor but someone’s gotta be into it.
Just as I reach for the tee, I hear the bedroom door open and close quietly. My head shoots up to see an equally shocked Celeste, staring back at me, a large gift box tucked under her arm.
“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” She quickly whips around to face the back wall. I scramble to throw the t-shirt on and explain why the fuck I’m shirtless in her best friend’s bedroom.
“I spilled…a Shakespeare guy…there was pop…” I fumble with the head hole, trying to cram my neck where an arm should go.
“Here, let me help.” I hear a soft rustling sound I assume is the box she was holding being placed on the bed. Then I feeldelicate fingers pull and shift the shirt into the correct position and my head finally pops out from the correct hole. As she pulls down the hem of the shirt her fingernails skim my torso. The barest hint of contact streaks heat across my skin—hot and fucking bothered. I clear my throat and shake the image of her hands elsewhere on me.
“Thanks. It was just…” I say, desperate to rid the rising heat that fills my cheeks.
“Ernest? Yeah, he gets very carried away once he turns on his Shakespeare.” She smiles and we both chuckle a little awkwardly, stepping away from each other.
“So what’s in the box?” I ask, desperate to make any conversation. She looks confused at first then her eyebrows shoot up as she turns back to the box left on the bed.
“Oh! Right. Well, it’s a little morbid and I didn’t want to cause a stir from a few of the more outspoken vegans that are in attendance so I thought I’d hide my gift for Lane here and have her open it privately,” she says.
I quirk an eyebrow, a half smile tugging up the side of my lips. “Hoot, what’s in the box?”
She gnaws on her full bottom lip with her top teeth, clearly weighing whether she wants to show me her obscure gift or not.
“Okay fine. But donotjudge me.” She closes her eyes, takes a deep inhale, and lifts the lid. I lean in to see and gasp at the absolute atrocity sitting inside.
“No!” I say, a hand slapping over my mouth as I start to laugh.
“Shhh! It was on her list!” she whisper-yells. I glance down into the box again to get another look at the diorama-looking display of two taxidermied leopard geckos wearing Shakespearean garb, fighting each other with miniature swords. I scrub at my eyes with my fingers trying to erase this image from my psyche forever. I begin to grin, then crack up as abubble of laughter leaves my mouth. I open my eyes to see a less than enthused Celeste staring back at me. Her brief annoyance bursts and she begins chuckling too. Soon we’re both slung over our own legs wheezing in a fit of uncontrollable belly-aching laughs.
“I…I had it…” Celeste tries but can’t get the words out between giggles. “I had it specially made.”
Another round of giggles springs free. As we finally settle down, both taking in gasping breaths and clutching our sides, I look up at her. Her face is still open, a lightness about it I haven’t seen in a while. The roundness and flush on her cheeks remind me of that little girl in the photo, the one from her room. The one where she stood bright eyed next to a man who left her behind. My chest constricts at the thought of little Celeste trying to make sense of something so selfish.
“Where the hell did you find that?” I ask mostly to get the dark thoughts from my head but also genuinely curious who is in the business of making taxidermied Shakespearean scenes with small dead animals.
“Well the geckos were from an endocrinology lab. They were going to be discarded as medical waste, so I took them to this guy in the city who…stuffed them?” Another hiccup of laughter racks through her. “I don’t know the process, nor do I want to. But this is what she wanted.” She shrugs and places the lid back on the box before moving it to rest on Delaney’s desk in the corner.
“Ah, that was a good laugh, thank you. Haven’t had one of those in a while,” she says, her rosy cheeks round with her smile.
“Me neither actually,” I say back honestly. The subtle tension that had evaporated during our laughing fit blankets itself over top of us again.
“So, how have you been otherwise?” I ask as we make our way out of the bedroom and back into the throng of bodies in the living room. The raucous reenactments have ended, andeveryone seems to be huddled in different groups, a calmer din of banter filling the air.
