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ALEXIS, AKA THE HUMAN CLOWN
My new business isa rousing success! The kids love me! The Ancient-Americans adore me! The parents appreciate my services! Penny made more money! I was right to move to this new town not so different from the one I left! Yay, me!
My supporting players deserve many of the exclamation marks. Everything teetered close to disaster when I ran out of supplies. In my defense, Penny undercounted my potential customer base, and I’m also broke. So, buying extra supplies felt like a waste before I even got paid. Okay, so amateur move on my part. My pale, freckled ass was saved by my dutiful cousins and a generous beefcake.
Standing outside Penny’s Best Pizzeria as the sun sets, I announce, “I’d take you all out for drinks to celebrate, but I need that money for rent.”
“Yes, you do,” Zelda insists. “We can share a wine cooler from the liquor store.”
West frowns at us as if we’re morons. “How about you wash off the clown makeup and change into human clothes? Then, we can hit up a bar on my dime.”
Smiling up at him, I rest my hand on his impressive chest. “Firstly, thank you for saving my hide today. Secondly, I accept your generous offer. Thirdly, you do know clowns are human, right?”
“Not all of them,” he replies with complete sincerity.
“Oh, like Pennywise is an alien,” Juno says and then shrugs when Zelda frowns at her. “I read books and know stuff.”
“That’s not what your SATs demonstrated.”
“Don’t start, nerd. What did your big brain ever get you? I don’t see any college degrees on your flippin’ wall.”
Ignoring my cousins’ bickering, I allow my hand to remain on West’s chest. He stops frowning at them and smiles at me.
“You were such a star today,” he murmurs.
“You’re laying it on too thick.”
“No, it was fricking brilliant how you dealt with those snot machines. Especially the old folks who were clearly having allergy issues.”
Grinning at his praise, I feel like I should reward him for his help today. Would a hand job suffice? What’s the sexual favor exchange rate on clown supplies?
“I can get washed off fast,” I lie as the cousins stop bitching and start revving their car.
“You’re wasting gas doing that,” Zelda complains to Juno.
“Oh, yeah.”
“Why don’t you meet us at the bar?” I suggest to West.
“No fricking way. I’m sticking close to you.”
“If you’re looking to help me in the shower, that’s impossible. The stall’s too small, and you’re far too big.”
West smirks at the image I paint, and I bet his jiffy is currently wishing to be lubed. He proves me right when he grimaces while climbing on his motorcycle. I sit in the back seat of my cousin’s green bean clunker and smile at the sexy biker.
“West Mercer is so damn habit-forming,” I say before sighing in an overly horny way as we drive home.
Zelda mutters, “He’s a male slut. Super prolific spunk-shooter in town, apparently.”
“Of course, he is,” I mumble, recalling how he saved me two days in a row. “The guy’s a rich beefcake.”
“So, you’re the latest spunk target, huh?” Zelda asks.
I lean in between them and frown. “Are you under the impression we’re living fascinating lives which enable us to be picky? Because if so, your heads are made out of melons.”
“What if he breaks your heart?” Juno asks.
Sighing, I lean back in my seat. “I’m more worried about him stretching out my butt and making me poop myself when I laugh too hard.”
