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My phone buzzed in my pocket.
It was a text from Layana. All other thoughts fell away as I opened the text.
Layana: Good morning, sunshine
Accompanyingthe message was an image of a penis. The hair above was shaved into a puffy ball and dyed orange. A red ball was affixed to the head, and a bowtie strung to the testicles. This genitalia was fashioned as a circus clown.
A strange sound came from my throat, a near choke on my own saliva.
Me: It’s afternoon. And it would be a better afternoon without the visual.
Layana: No. A good penis in the morning makes the day
Me: It’s still afternoon.
Layana: Not on my schedule. When can I see you? Are you free tonight?
Me: There’s something we need to discuss.
Layana: That sounds ominous. You’re not breaking up with me, are you? Is it because I flopped on the ground like a salmon with no sense of direction?
I shook my head.
Me: No. I enjoyed your flop.
Layana: Ouch
Me: It made you more human.
Layana: As opposed to what?
I didn’t knowwhat to say to that.
Me: Why didn’t you post a new photo yet?
Layana: They were all garbage
I breathed a sigh of relief.
Layana: We need other people around. For sure
Me: You can come over at seven and bring your friend.
Layana: Let’s make it nine. And I’ll be there
If we could continue honoringour truce and behave civilly until then, and if she actually agreed to accompany me, I would need to spend an extended period of time with Layana on this ski trip.
I peeked into the drawer where I’d stored Layana’s blanket. The memory of the vanilla and hazelnut scent of it filled my brain. I needed to return it to her.
No matter the circumstances, there was no question that Saturday was going to be torture.
SEVENTEEN
LAYANA
Even though I’d paid my rent, and even though there’d been no further incidents with Maxim since I’d found him creeping in the dark on my sofa five days ago, I still felt uneasy stepping into my apartment complex’s lobby. My skin itched with the sensation of being watched. The little hairs on my arms stood on end, tiny sensors waiting for a shift in the air that would alert me to my enemy’s presence.
Janet, from 207, was standing at her mailbox, flipping through a pile of envelopes. She had on her favorite velvet overalls over a fuzzy sweater, and no shoes.
