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‘Are you trying to make us laugh or cry in this paper of yours?’
It was as if an arrow shot me in the side. ‘Both,’ I said.
I was dripping now like his T-shirt, the map of the world. I slid around on the floor so he could see up my skirt.
Chris took a moment. ‘See, you’re titillating, Myra, if you really need to know that. Which I don’t think you do. I think you already know that about yourself.’
Lee touched me on the shoulder. ‘Aaron’s waiting for us in the car,’ she whispered.
‘I don’t care,’ I said.
‘We gotta go, c’mon, My.’
‘Me and My were just talking.’
‘Myra,’ I said.
‘Me and Myra were just talking about what a titillating asshole she is.’
‘Oh fuck,’ Lee said as she reached down for my hand.
I looked up at Lee backwards. Her neck was lifted and long like a swan’s.
‘It’s okay. He’s right. Chris was just telling me that I’m tight. He’s the second guy to say that to me ... ’
‘Let’s go, Myra,’ Lee said. She crouched down and hooked me.
‘An asshole is tight, it doesn’t dilate naturally,’ Chris said. He was amused by how much his drug had me crippled. It was hard for us to coordinate, Lee had to help me stand.
‘Everything is tight on me,’ I said, smiling. ‘Maybe you should try and feel that sometime.’
I started to gain clarity. Hairs prickled up on my arms. Jen and Charlene were in the kitchen. They were like my innermost core. I was rebelling against the fucking passivity and privilege and girlishness that was epitomized by them.
‘Come back when you’re ready, when you’re whole,’ Chris said. ‘I’ll feel you, Myra, no problem at all.’
‘You’ll feel my tight pussy?’
‘Oh god,’ said Lee.
‘No one will experience your brain unless you learn how to listen to people,’ Chris said. ‘How to even respect your enemies.’
I hadn’t wanted anyone to read my essay until I was done.
‘My enemies are fucking dependent on m
e,’ I said.
Lee pulled me away from Chris, through the dark hallway and the flickering front room. It felt like a roller-coaster ride. I was laughing. Inside my mouth was the black seedy stink of that joint. Outside, Wils was standing at the car. Aaron was a ghost of smoke in the driver’s seat. What I really wanted was to sit in the back seat with Lee. I wanted her to put her arm around me and let me lay my head on her shoulder in the speed. I wanted to fall and fall asleep. The titillating asshole was totally spent.
GAYL: This girl, damn. She needs me, she needs me!
LEE: I was trying to take care of her too.
GAYL: Hand her over. She needs real-life. No more of these half-assed, drippy, aborted explorations.
LEE: Aborted? I don’t think that friendship and empathy are aborted explorations. Neither is anarchy. It’s all a process. You’re harsh.
GAYL: Yeah, I’m not into process. I’m from Kentucky. We do washboard justice. Just hand her over. You’ll see what I see.
