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“I’m hungry,” he says. Then he points at a taco stand just across the street. “Tacos sound good?”
“Steve, you silly man! Don’t you remember that I am a model? I can’t have sketchy tacos from a sketchy stand on the street corner.” I keep a smile on my face, even though it’s strained. They say it takes many more muscles to frown than to smile, but I beg to differ. My face legitimately hurts from keeping this up.
“Fine. Then you can sit with me while I have some tacos,” Steve replies.
We cross the street and walk over to the stand, then a teenage girl recognizes me with her boyfriend and squeals. She quickly whips out a magazine from her bag and goes to a page with me on it. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry, but will you please sign this?” she asks me.
I grin at her. “I’d be happy to!”
Anything other than sitting here watching Steve stuff his face full of mystery meat. I take the girl’s magazine and swirl out my signature with her black sharpie. Then she asks for a photo, and I put my arm around her as her boyfriend takes a picture.
“You are literally such an inspiration!” the girl says to me. “I can’t believe I actually got to meet you!”
I put a hand to my heart. “Oh, that is so freaking sweet!” I say back. I sort of wish this random fan would stay here and keep chatting with me, but she would never think that I’dwantto do that, so she gives me a shy wave, and her and her boyfriend resume walking past.
I sigh and turn back to Steve. Sometimes being famous isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
15
DAMASCUS
Believe me, the last thing I wanted was for the Jennifer sighting yesterday to stir something bad up inside of me. And I know it’s a lame excuse, but I am being honest when I say this—I can’t help it.
And what puts me in an evenworsemood today is the fact that the one person I want to talk to about how I’m feeling isn’t around for me to do so. I just think it’s unfair. I think the entire world is unfair.
During the time I’ve spent dating Blair, she has gotten to learn a little bit about my bad side. About the darkness inside of me. About my rebellious urges. But still, she has no idea what makes me the way I am. She knows nothing about my past, nothing except about Jennifer.
When Blair tries to text and call me today, it’s not that I don’t want to talk to her. It’s not that I don’t like her anymore. It’s not that I’ve forgotten that I know how good she is for me. She just doesn’t need to see me like this. She doesn’t need to be the one to talk me down from my ledge. It’s not fair to her.
Before me, she was living this perfect, quaint, simple, happy life, and then I bulldozed my way in, this dark shadow sucking her in. I don’t really know how to explain it, but I have this constant dread inside me of what mine and Blair’s future holds. I’m going to turn her into me. While she changes me for the better, I’m going to change her for the worse. And knowing this, why the hell am I being so selfish and continuing to stay with her?
I park my truck a few blocks away from the protesters. I’m looking forward to stirring up some mayhem. There’s no better way to distract myself than by giving others what they deserve.
It’s still early enough in the day that I know the protesters will still be on the street corner with their ridiculous signs and posters, making women feel terrible about themselves. Don’t these idiots know that there isn’t only one reason to go into this family planning institution?
I grab the only item I need today out of the backseat and carry it discreetly inside my unzipped black jacket as I stroll along the sidewalk. I grin at the sight of the protesters on the corner. I know what I’m about to do could get me easily arrested, but I just don’t care. I don’t care what happens to me. The world is unfair, and it’ll probably keep being unfair. This is just my one little way to get back at it.
By the time they all see me coming, I stop walking only a few feet away from them.
“It’s just not right!” one woman says to me, a sign in her hand depicting something horrible that I absolutely don’t agree with.
I can tell they’re waiting to see if I’m here to join them or if I’m against them.
I roll my eyes and pull out the item I brought with me. I open the carton of eggs and pick one up, and I chuck it at the first lady who spoke. It bursts open on her pretty white blouse, covering her in goop.
There are four people here today, three of them women and one of them a man. I can easily dodge them as they come at me, yelling and cursing. I continue to pick eggs up from my carton and chuck it at them. I hit their signs. I hit their chests. I hit their butts. I even managed to clock the guy right in between the eyes. All the while, I am laughing hysterically.
Yeah, this isjustwhat I needed.
* * *
As I had been anticipating,I did end up getting arrested. A cop pulled up just shortly after the four of them were able to wrestle me into a tight hold, only after the man punched me hard enough in the cheek to make me fall over. I hadn’t anticipated him beingactuallystrong.
Luckily, the cop who puts me in the backseat of his car has become somewhat of a friend of mine over the years. He is an older dude, in his sixties, with a big belly from eating too much pizza and drinking too much beer, and he has a perfectly cul-de-sac-shaped head of hair.
“I gotta take you back to the station, and someone’s got to come to pick you up.”
“Oh, come on, Carl,” I complain in the backseat. “I’m not even drunk.”
