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“He is none of your business, Attic Ass.”
I’ve had enough of this chick and her bullshit. I surge forward and yank the joint from Dee’s spindly fingers and crush it in my palm. The man looks at me, confused.
“Hey man, we’re just having a little fun. No need to get your panties in a bunch,” he chuckles.
I begin to mock him.
“Hey man, if your panties bunch, you might wanna try different underwear.”
He glares at me, then looks at Dee.
“Dee, I’m outta here. This dude is whack,” he says while grabbing his stuff and making his way to the door.
“Call me later,” he says as he opens the door to leave.
“Or never, depending on if you get your panty situation figured out,” I say as I grab the door by the handle and shut it in his face.
Lyric is already reaming Cruella a new asshole before I’m able to intervene. I observe from the sidelines, letting the girls duke it out on their own. It’s like watching birds fight; a lot of squawking and slapping of extremities. My Strawberry Girl is winning. She is the prettier, stronger bird after all.
Lyr’s booming voice gets me out of my head and back into this mess.
“You fucking lied to me! You’re supposed to be my best friend. Why did you keep our situation a secret? Please explain it to me because I really don’t understand.”
I feel bad for her. I desperately want to ease her pain, but mostly I want to slap the shit out of Cruella.
Dee snaps back with a roar, “My death has nothing to do with you, Lyr. I’m not obligated to tell you shit! Haven’t I done enough by inviting you here? What more do you want?”
I can see the audacity leave Cruella and smack Lyr straight in the face.
Lyr begins pacing the area. She twirls her ringlets around her finger before stuffing the ends into her mouth. She nibbles the last inch of her hair and then spits like a cowboy with a mouthful of chewing tobacco.
“Are you kidding me? Do you think you did me some sort of favor by bringing me here?”
“Yes, actually. I was trying to protect you. I wanted things to be as normal for you as possible.” Dee continues, “Believe it or not, I love you, Lyr. I don’t know how you died, and I’m sad that you’re here because I never wanted this for you—not this soon, anyway, but you’re here… and I did my best, dammit.”
I can see that Lyric isn’t buying what Dee’s selling. My Strawberry Girl is too smart for that.
Lyr finally stops in her tracks and pivots to face Cruella.
“I’m not sure how you think keeping something this big from me would be helpful. I’m DEAD. Why aren’t we trying to leave this place?”
Cruella plops on the couch and proclaims, “I don’t wanna leave, Lyr. I like it here.”
I intervene because I’m tired of this selfish bitch.
“Can’t you see that you’ve hurt your best friend? If you don’t want to leave, Cruella, that’s fine. But it’s not up to you to decide if Lyric stays here or not. It was never your job to protect her, and you didn’t. All you did was cause damage, and now I get to do the repair.”
Lyric stands there with her arms folded over her large chest, the sorrow and affliction wrapping itself in a blanket of anger.
“Yeah, well, I wanna go home.”
She says as she looks between me and Dee.
Dee opens her big mouth with, “How do you know there is one? What if this is it?”
Could she be right? What if this is the beginning of the end?
Lyr and I rummage through the apartment looking for her essentials while Cruella follows us around like a lost puppy. I’ve already tried to convince my princess not to leave, but she refuses to listen. She wants to go with me, and her persistence reminds me that I would love nothing more than to have her at my side, but I have nowhere to go, and now neither does she.
