♡

Chapter One

Townes was drinking mouthwash he bought from Whole Foods. He was drunk and nauseous, waiting to meet his father for an early lunch. His hands were shaking, fingers numb, he couldn’t button his white shirt, everything was spinning. He thinks about smashing his head into the mirror to stop the pounding. He enjoyed picturing things like that; him bleeding out with a shard of glass puncturing his eye, blood leaking from his nose and mouth. The thing they don’t tell you about drinking mouthwash is that it’s fucking perfect. It gets you drunk in less than 20 minutes if you drink the entire bottle fast enough and you don’t smell like you’ve been drinking when your mother comes to sniff test your breath. The singular trouble is that it burns going down and then it sits in your stomach and it keeps burning. God, he begins, God, I promise I’ll never drink mouthwash again. I’ll even start believing in you. Just make it stop.
God is silent and Townes is dying. He sits on the floor of his bathroom but his stomach is killing him so he presses his face to the floor and closes his eyes. It was sobering and intimate, his burning skin pressed against the cold white marble. It felt nice to be held like this. He buttoned his shirt on the floor. He took a few deep breaths. He goes to find his driver.
Townes doesn’t talk to the staff. His driver was an old, fat man named Paul with a face that made him very uncomfortable. His skin texture reminded Townes of a Klondike Heath Bar. Paul never seemed particularly surprised to catch Townes studying his features. He’s a hideous old man that drives around a 17 year old boy upon command, Townes thinks. Who is he to judge me? And he was driving fucking terribly. The turns were too turn-y and the bumps were too bumpy. Townes gagged when they drove over a pothole. His mouth was becoming salty and his palms clammy and he was begging God again.
“Paul, stop.”
“Stop what?” asks a concerned Paul.
“The car,” he replies, exasperated. He was irritated that he had to say anything at all. Couldn’t he tell that I was dying? Townes thought about that as he vomited blue minty chunks into the grass. He was being attacked by a sea of gnats as he emptied his stomach. Paul was standing by the car watching this unfortunate pathetic scene. He hated the look of concern on his driver’s face. Oh God, his face. He hated how the sun illuminated the bumps and craters of Paul’s red, flaky skin. It made him vomit more. Once he felt better, he sat in the back seat and closed his eyes. The car was hot and the leather seats were sticky. He smelled like grass. There was a dead gnat stuck to Townes’ left hand. He wanted to burn his hand off and then kill himself.
“Are you okay Townes?” Paul asks softly.
He pretended not to hear the question. He kept his eyes closed and focused on his breathing. Townes felt terribly insulated in the car, catching whiffs of his own minty, sour vomit, and the dull hum of the radio station reminded him of the gnats. Paul wordlessly offered him two sticks of gum, which Townes immediately placed into his mouth and began focusing on the chewing. Townes hated chewing one stick of gum. It was never enough. The mouth to gum ratio magnified all that empty space. Two sticks was perfect.

Chapter Two

Townes hates his father. He hates that he has to see him today. He hates the whistling noise that Paul’s left nostril makes because his nose is always filled with mucus. He wanted to tell him to blow his fucking nose. He hates that insects had been touching his skin and he couldn’t shower. He hates the small dried flecks of blue vomit on his white shirt. But most of all, Townes hates summer. Absolutely nothing was worse than the blank yawning nothingness of summer. The way the days began to swallow themselves. He was being eaten up by the sun and by boredom. Boredom, he believed, was the ultimate torture. During summer, Townes often went too far into solitude. Drugs held him tight in the dark but he’d been clean for six months. He felt proud; not many people could stay clean for as long as he had. He loved the control staying sober gave him. But he was dreaming of it again. Sometimes he was so desperate to get high his fingers shook with it. Townes was looking out of the window to the sky. He thought that if he focused hard enough he could see the other planets. He imagined being consumed by a black hole or annihilated by the fury of a supernova. The unpredictability and destructiveness of nature comforted him. He knew that somewhere in the world a small village was being destroyed by heavy rains that they were not expecting or prepared for and entire houses and families and animals were being washed into the ocean and this brought him comfort. It reminded him how meaningless and pointless life is. None of us are anything in comparison to the absolute and endless grandeur of the universe. Horny French poets and sad Russian philosophers and the real great thinkers of America have tried to assign meaning to life by inventing isms and religious ideology and explanations for why daughters want to fuck their fathers but perhaps life isn’t meant to be understood. Perhaps, this persistent need to connect to reality just makes you a fucking loser.
Townes was meeting his father at a classic all-American diner. He saw his father’s car parked in an unassuming spot away from the others in the lot. It was easily the nicest car there, surrounded by 2012 Fords and old Chevrolets and other shitty cheap cars that Townes couldn’t recognize. His father loved to show off like this. He picked the most disgusting diner in town to remind these New England proletariats that we’re all the same. Poor, rich, it doesn’t fucking matter because it’s America. And we were all born to the same families and given the same opportunities and we all eat repulsive fried shit from shitty diners on Saturday afternoons because God bless the United States of America and God bless the working class.
The diner was a decaying mess. The black and white linoleum stuck to the bottoms of your shoes as you walked to a slimy red booth held together by duct tape and the prayers of poor people. The walls were yellowing with age and french fry grease. Behind the counter was rows of pie; cherry, banana pudding, key lime. Townes felt sick. He felt insulted by the squalor. No one in this small town diner knows he’s wearing an archive Margiela button down from the fall/winter 2011 ready to wear collection. Regardless, his father was waving him over to a middle booth in the back. The pleather seat shined with oil and sweat and groaned and moaned and made a huge goddamn scene as Townes sat down. His father and his father’s fiancee sat next to each other. Same side of the booth couple, Townes thinks. Weird as fuck.
His father’s fiancee was a whore. She smelled of artificial cherry and desperation and looked like a cheap prostitute that often stood on the shadowy street corners of Pigalle, with their pink sausage lips and bodies squeezed and contorted into short tight dresses. Townes felt this a lot when looking at women; both disgust and arousal. She was beautiful. She was only 8 years older than him. She was almost too old for Leonardo DiCaprio. He could make it work. But the truth is, Townes wasn’t interested in sex. He found the whole ordeal nauseating. Do you know how claustrophobic he felt being inside someone else? Too hot, too tight, too mushy, too wet.
“Hey buddy,” says his father. “Glad you could make it. Grace here has been really excited to meet you.”
“Literally so so excited!” Grace confirms, breathlessly. “Your dad told me like so much about you. So you’re going into your senior year? Oh my god that is like such a good year. I literally loved my senior year. Literally so much fun. How exciting!”
Townes' eyes were twitching. He regretted every choice he had ever made that led him to this exact moment. Sat across from his balding divorced father and his blonde pocket pussy that speaks. He thinks, Maybe if my mother wasn’t such a psychotic cunt and my father wasn’t sticking his dick in everyone but his wife, they could have had a happy healthy marriage and we'd all be at home right now watching Wheel of Fortune.
“I’m sure you have plenty of high school stories,” Townes says. “It wasn’t that long ago for you right?” He watches the resolve leave her slowly. Her lips twitched slightly in an effort to remain smiling.
“Oh no, I barely remember it,” she laughs. “Are you excited to go back? Boarding school always sounded so fun.” Was she serious? The brightness of her eyes indicated genuine interest but Townes was blown away by her absurdity— her audacity! Boarding school was the worst and it was not something that he wanted to discuss. Instead of dignifying her with a response, Townes looks at his phone. He had been in this diner for almost 4 minutes and he already wanted to die.
“Hi y’all!” says the waitress in an obnoxiously loud voice. “My name’s Dolly. I’ll be your server this afternoon. Can I get y’all started with any drinks?” Townes looks up then, as she places a laminated menu in front of him. Dolly was a very pretty girl. She was absolutely white trash, but she still looked nice. Townes felt weird about his attraction to her. He knew that they were the same age but it felt wrong. It always felt wrong with girls. She looks like a doll; with hair so blonde it looked almost white against her tanned skin. When Dolly noticed him staring, her cheeks blushed red.
“Oh my god I am so obsessed with these milkshake names. Strawberry Cream Dream! Now that is just too cute. I’ll try that one please! Yes, whipped cream is perfect, thank you!”
“Yeah I’ll uh. Hold on. Sorry, sorry. How’s your beer? You got beer? Eh. Okay. Alright. Give me a Corona. Yeah, perfect. Thanks.”
“I’ll have water. Ice is fine.”

Chapter Three

The menus were oily and the peeling lamination was turning a light brown. Townes couldn’t eat here. He wouldn’t. He scanned over the menu items: cheese curds soaked in gravy and covered in bacon bits, chocolate chip pancakes dusted in powdered sugar and drizzled in blueberry syrup, American grilled cheese with a side of pickles, warm honey biscuits topped with sausage gravy and fried eggs.
“Anything look good Townes?” his father asks. “I’m thinking of getting the bacon cheeseburger myself.”
“I’m not hungry,” he says. “I’m good with water.”
“That’s all? Did you eat before? You do look sort of sick. Are you feeling well son?” He heard white noise whenever his father spoke.
“I’m just not hungry.”
Dolly came back to the booth with the drinks. Townes had lost count of the eye contact he made with her. It was too intimate. Intimacy disgusted him. He tried to avoid situations that ended in sexual activity. He also avoided drinking wine for this reason, as it made him extremely horny. We’re going to fuck, Townes thinks. He knew it as soon as she placed the ice water in front of him. He inspected the glass. The water looked semi-translucent, probably tap, and the glass didn’t look clean. There was a thumbprint on the side and faint red marks on the brim, probably old lipstick. Townes shuddered. He watched his father and Grace order. And then he watched Dolly write it all down on her wrinkled yellow notebook in dark blue ink. He liked the way she swayed her hips as she took orders. He wondered if she liked it— taking orders.
Townes slid out of the booth quickly, needing to wash his hands desperately.
“Going somewhere?” his father asks.
“Bathroom.”
Townes texted Paul that he needed to be picked up in exactly 15 minutes. He had enough. The air felt heavy with grease and cigarette smoke. He felt disgusting. The gnats had probably laid eggs in his hair. Each strand was probably thickly coated in tiny squishy eggs which were currently expanding with larvae. He could feel the eggs hatching into worms, their squirming bodies digging deeper into his scalp, their little mouths eating his flesh greedily. A cluster of white fibrous maggots sliding over each other to feast on his scalp, shitting his flesh out, and laying more eggs. He felt itchy all over. Townes pulls out his phone and googles “incubation period of gnat larvae”.
“Are ya lookin’ for the bathroom?” Townes looks up slowly and straightens his back, tilting his head slightly to the side. Dolly stands in front of him, an empty, coffee stained mug dangling from her hand.
“Yes,” Townes answers. He never felt comfortable talking to girls. He tried to assess the kind of guy Dolly might like to be talking to at this moment but that thought repulsed him. Why should he want to be anything but himself?
“It’s right through there,” she points to a little hallway past the back exit. He smiles at her.
“Wait here,” he says before walking past her.
The bathroom seemed cleaner than the actual diner. There was a tall, bald man pissing into a urinal, the sound of his urine made Townes want to leave but he had to wash his hands. He stood in front of a sink and began to scrub and scrub and scrub. He recites the ABCs in his head twice. And then once more backwards. After drying his hands with a thin, cheap paper towel he inspects his scalp thoroughly. The pissing man brushes past him and leaves without washing his hands. He carried a sour scent, and his asparagus urine had polluted the space. Neanderthal. There were no eggs in his hair and more importantly, no larvae. He takes a breath of relief. His mind had a tendency to wander to the worst possible scenarios.
Dolly was standing right where he left her, except the mug was no longer in her hand. This bothered Townes. She hadn’t listened. She moved somewhere, probably to the kitchen to hand the mug over to a dishwasher. He tried not to show the irritation on his face but he was never good at hiding.
“When do you get off work?” Townes asks. This question clearly excited Dolly. The expression on her face revealed that she had not been expecting this, yet was pleasantly surprised. “Well,” she smiles softly. “I’m workin’ my summer hours. My shift’s over at 10 tonight. I know it’s kinda late.”
It was late. He would have to sneak out. It wasn’t a convenient time at all, but Dolly could be worth it. Possibly. Maybe. Probably not.
“Did ya wanna hang out and drink or somethin’?” She is definitely worth it, he thinks.
“Can I meet you here at 10?” he asks.
“Yeah,” she says. “Um, I have a bottle of vodka in my bag. I haven’t really had anyone to drink it with.”

Chapter Four

Paul was at the diner in exactly 15 minutes. Townes gave his father some excuse, about how sick he felt. So nauseous. So, so nauseous. He said his goodbyes. He was polite. He told Grace it was nice to meet her.
The car ride home felt impossibly long. The various greens of the bigleaf maple and white oak trees began to blend together. This was summer: everything glowing, buzzing, blooming, swelling, verdant. There wasn’t enough death. When he was younger, Townes used to smash the flower gardens that grew neatly around his families’ property. He would come back to the house covered in dirt and honeysuckle nectar. His mother called him a flower murderer. She would laugh and kiss his cheek and make him her special “mommy milk”.
Mommy Milk recipe:
Crushed xanax bar (1)
8 tbsp of white sugar or honey
1 warm glass of condensed milk.
It is thick and sweet and comforting.
Townes hated his father but he loved his mother. He loved her more than she loved him. There was a hole in his heart where his mother’s love should have been. From childhood he ached for her love, he longed to be born anew as something she wanted. He’s carried this ache throughout life; it’s never left him behind. This terrible desire to be loved by his mother humiliated him. It was not a purifying sort of pain; so violently did he know that he was unloved and unwanted. Sunday night in the kitchen he overheard her say as much. I can’t handle him. I can’t take it anymore. I want him gone. Townes remained in that kitchen. He remained that small crying child that sat embarrassed and hungry for his mother.
The first thing Townes did when he got home was shower. He thought about tonight, seeing Dolly. He didn’t particularly understand why he was doing this. Drinking with girls usually ended in one thing. Fucking is metaphysical. Sure, it requires you to rub your flesh against someone else's flesh and see God or whatever, but it’s fucking metaphysical. Townes could get hard but he could rarely finish. The longer the sex lasted, he became increasingly disturbed by the act itself. Of course at first it felt good and then it felt like an organ inside of a gaping cavity and then it didn’t feel so good anymore. He feels dirty even thinking about it. He remains in the shower until he feels clean of both body and mind. The day runs off of him into the drain. Townes is incredibly dramatic. It’s like the rebirth of Jesus Christ.
Summer boredom was rapidly spiraling into madness. He didn’t know what to do with himself until 10 pm. He wandered into his mother’s bathroom and began rummaging through her medicine drawer. His mother had swept the entire house after the incident six months ago. There were no pills, no alcohol, no cough syrup, she even threw away the keyboard cleaner. Cunt. Townes was losing hope. But then he saw it: Mother fucking Theresa. His mother’s Laura Mercier bath salts. He wondered if he became a flesh eating zombie after ingesting the salts, if he would eat Paul first. He gagged at the thought of eating Paul. His hard-pus filled skin would be crunchy and salty and dry. Townes decides to leave the bathroom.
This was an incredibly vexing day. Townes was miserable. He briefly considered suicide but ultimately decided against it. What was there to do? Truly, what was there to do in this life? From the moment we’re born we try to cheat death. We forget about death like it’s some ugly wife with saggy tits that’s grown old and fat and bitter. Life is bouncy and young and sweet but it’s not quite ready to settle down. You tease life, you get it wet, you try to fuck life, but you never actually penetrate it. You’re exhausted from the effort, your dick is hard and throbbing, begging for release and then life does something completely unexpected: it bends you over and fucks you. It’s a humiliating kind of fuck. Life degrades you. You are life's whore. And after life fucks you with slow hard strokes it tosses your body over to death. And then death fucks you. Both life and death pass your used, helpless body between them like you're Adriana Chechik. You get double penetrated: life is fucking your ass with no lube and death takes your mouth until you’re gagging with your own bubbling spit leaking down your chin. You feel so fucking good to both life and death, that they’re so close. After they cum inside of you, you think it’s over, finally, thank God, it’s over. But life calls its friends: Depression, anxiety, addiction, heartbreak, suicidal ideation, mommy issues, daddy issues, insecurity, doubt. They all fuck you so hard that the weight of existence becomes unbearable. You crawl over to death and you beg and beg and beg. You stroke death’s dick, “Please. I’ve suffered enough. I can’t handle it. Take me. Fuck you’re so hard. I want to die. Please. Cum on my face. End my life.” Death spurts hot strings of cum all over your face, some gets in your eye, it burns. Death bends down and kisses you on the lips. Everything goes black. You fade into interplanetary space. You cease to exist: you aren’t a sentient being, you don’t have consciousness, you’re nothing. There is no god to greet you at the golden glittering gates of heaven. You are not wailing for your sins in the flames of everlasting hellfire. It’s just black. You return to the womb of the universe. You left no mark on the world. No one will remember you. Your name will be forgotten. Your entire family will be dead just as you are dead just as everyone will be dead. This is eternal oblivion. You’ve never felt anything more cathartic.

Chapter Five

There was nothing left to do but sleep. Sleep is the absence of suffering and Townes is about to indulge, shamelessly. He likes being alone in his room; it feels safe from the degenerates of society. His walls are an intricate, calming white boiserie ‘blanc de roi’. The bedroom reflects the rest of the home; tall white walls, arched French windows, bright open space, and deep silence. His mother had exceptionally elegant taste, but she didn’t know how to keep a happy home. There were so many staff at one point that Townes was always being passed off to someone or other. Then came the ‘decluttering’ as his mother called it. She kept her favorites; Paul, Miss Agnello, Bella, and Miss Agnello’s daughter. Everyone else was fired on the spot.
Miss Agnello is God. She rules over the property with a pinched face and massive cankles. She is impressively fat; it constantly surprises Townes how well she performs her job despite her size. He respects her although they share a mutual dislike for each other. Townes often feels jealousy when he watches her interact with her daughter, Nora. Miss Agnello got knocked up the year Townes was born. His mother was horrified; who had been fucking her nanny! Even worse, who had emptied himself inside of her nanny? She was being paid to cook and bake and clean and care for baby Townes, not slink off to rut in the shadows. Cherry, boysenberry, pumpkin pies were all on the menu, but she did not recall any creampies! Had Miss Agnello lost her goddamn mind? Well, his mother had calmed down eventually. She had no energy anymore, the diet program she followed to lose all of that pregnancy fat was mentally and physically draining. Her body was ruined and she missed bread terribly and she resented her baby for destroying her vagina. She figured, hey, Nora isn’t that big of a deal. Townes would have someone to play with and to fetch his toys and adore him. He thought of Nora as his pet. He felt ownership over that girl the day his mother sat him down and told him that Nora was his to do with as he pleased. As they grew older, he waited for Nora to blossom into something beautiful and delicate, but she never did. She was awfully plain with a figure that mirrored her obese mother’s. Her hair is a dry, mousy brown, her cheeks smooth and plump, her small blue eyes resemble an insect’s. The more Townes began to find her physically unattractive, the less he respected her. She was the first person he ever treated cruelly.
Nothing is sweeter than midday naps in summer, when you’re lulled to sleep by a warm breeze, veiled in silence. When he wakes up, Townes feels better than ever. He figures, whatever happens tonight happens; c’est la vie.
There are still a couple hours until he's supposed to meet Dolly at the diner. His mother often left home for weeks at a time to travel and pretend like she's still in her early twenties without a care in the world. Paul, Miss Agnello, and Nora all live on the property; Townes is never truly alone. Miss Angello is always cooking. Always. Fat women make the best food, they really put their backs into it. Townes wanders down to the kitchen; Miss Angello is peeling and washing vegetables at the sink across from Nora sitting at the island peeling an orange. She is always stuffing her face like a greedy, starving rodent.
“Hey Townes,” Nora says.
“Hey.” He walks over to her and inspects the orange. After determining that she has peeled the orange with careful attention to detail and managed to remove most of the stringy white shit, he takes a few pieces and eats them. Nora likes watching Townes eat, especially when it’s something she has prepared, her labor of love.
“Townes?” Miss Agnello calls.
“What.”
“Tell me what you want for dinner,” she says. “Look at these veggies. Gorgeous. Simply gorgeous. All organic too. Have you ever seen a better carrot? I mean really. Wow.” Why was she telling him this? Townes doesn't give a fuck about her vegetables, in fact, he doesn't even give a fuck about dinner. He has other things on his mind: should he bring a condom tonight or is that too presumptuous?
“Make whatever you want,” he says. “I don’t care.”
“Since when do you not care?” she asks. “You sick or something?”
“I am sick, actually. I’ve felt terrible all day,” he sighs dramatically. “Nora, make me feel better.” He watches her face flush, her fingers stop peeling the orange.
“How, Townes?” she asks looking down at her hands. She continues to peel.
“I need to think about it,” he tells her.
Nora is in love with Townes. She wasn’t sure how it happened. He is never sweet and he will never love her back. It's stupid. Despite his cruelty and indifference, she would do anything for him. So if he needed her to make him feel better, she was going to do anything he wanted. Anything.
Townes is killing time. He tries to think about his childhood, what he would do when he was bored like this. There are so many gaps where his memories should be, it was a short, terrible journey back to childhood, he felt planets away from himself. Townes wonders what happened to that boy, when he was so young and vibrant and soft. If it was the years that hardened him or if it was faults of his own he couldn’t say. He is absolutely certain, however, that he has no hope in what he is becoming. He falls back asleep.

Chapter Six

It is already well past 9 pm when Townes wakes up. He gets up slowly, walks into the bathroom and washes the sleep from his face. He brushes his teeth. He puts on a black sweatshirt with black pants. He runs a hand through his hair. He orders a car service with one hand and sprays cologne with another. He brings two condoms, just in case. He feels ready.
Townes starts to walk downstairs, he doesn’t try to be quiet as none of the staff reside in the main home. The only tricky part is getting past the gate.
“Townes?” a voice whispers. Nora. He squints his eyes at her. “What are you doing?” Who is she to ask him what he's doing in his own home?
“Why the fuck do you care?”
“It’s just late. Are you okay?” He thinks about this. Townes was okay. He was. Until this ugly fat mouse started squeaking.
“You said you would make me feel better Nora,” he says. “Stop asking retarded questions and don’t tell anyone I left. Okay?”
“Okay.” He turns, as though he’s about to leave and then stops himself short.
“Actually,” he grabs Nora’s hand, she shivers. “Come with me.”
He pulls her out into the night, she can barely breathe from the proximity. She can’t believe he’s touching her, holding her hand. It feels like fucking.
“Just stay here,” he tells her. “Text me if anyone asks where I am.”
“What do I tell them?” Townes clenches his jaw. Why was everyone so clueless, so painfully stupid?
“I don’t fucking know,” he says slowly, smiling. “You’ll think of something.”
The driver’s car is old and smells like artificial lemons. Townes’ hand feels like it's burning. I shouldn’t have touched her, He thinks. He needs hand sanitizer. His skin is compromised. Townes did not enjoy the feeling of her hand on his hand, the way the oils of their fingertips had mixed together like a Monet painting. There is mold beginning to form on his palm like old wet bread. Small white mushrooms are sprouting between his fingers. They begin to grow into large portobello patties. Jesus fucking Christ they could make a Steak ‘n Shake Shroom burger out of my fucking hand. “I need hand sanitizer,” Townes says suddenly. The driver looks up and sniffs his nose.
“What’s that?”
“Hand sanitizer,” he repeats. “Do you have any?”
“Here.” The driver tosses Townes a small greasy bottle of hand sanitizer. Townes fixates on that 99.9 percent of germs it claims to kill. Why not 100 percent? Why? Were humans really that fucking stupid we can’t figure out how to kill 100 percent of germs? We can put a man on the moon and clone a fucking sheep but we draw the line at killing germs.
Townes tries to focus on seeing Dolly but his hand feels tainted by Nora. He doesn’t understand why he grabbed her hand knowing she would infect him. There is something fundamentally and deeply disgusting about Nora and now he feels like whatever it is, is spreading all over him. He needs to get drunk.
After 10 minutes, the car started to smell like shit. The stench of hot shit and artificial lemon is making Townes’ stomach uneasy. What came first, he wondered. The shit, or the artificial lemon? Or perhaps, both at the same time. Was he currently being driven by a man who enjoys shitting on his pleather seats as he inhaled the fumes of lemon Lysol? It doesn't matter anymore, Townes sees the flickering neon sign of the diner and he is ready. He is ready.

Chapter Seven

Dolly smells like old french fries and beer. Townes can tell she’s uncomfortable with the current state of her hygiene. He has no intention of easing her worries– she should be uncomfortable with her smells. But Dolly is still as pretty as she was when he first saw her earlier today. She looks exhausted, walking over to him with slow stiff movements.
“Hey,” she smiles. She bends down and places her bag on the ground, revealing a large bottle of Burnett's Cherry Vodka. Townes takes a deep, quiet breath.
“Let’s go,” he says. Dolly follows him out of the diner. He isn’t exactly sure where they are going but the town is dark and vacant, she grabs the sleeve of his sweatshirt. He doesn’t mind. They walk until they reach an empty, sad little park. Really, it’s just a large tree and some bushes and a rusty bench but it’s good enough. Townes sits in the grass as it seems to be a safer option than the bench. Dolly lays down beside him, handing him the vodka. It tastes like rubbing alcohol and cherry cough drops. It’s fucking incredible. They don’t exchange many words, they just keep drinking.

Chapter Eight

The night is balmy and calm, and Townes is completely and beautifully drunk. Dolly is a good girl. The wind runs through the grass, picking up her skirt, she doesn’t pull it back down. He’s watching her while she watches him. She runs a hand over his thigh, the sticky heat of the air has softened them. She sits up and runs a hand across his cheek. She smiles and straddles him.
“I’m so fucking drunk,” she says. Townes hears, “I’m fucking a softcore punk.”
“I’m not a softcore punk. I don’t even watch porn,” he says. They both begin to laugh. They laugh until their mouths are joined and their tongues are sliding against themselves. It doesn’t take much; she’s in a skirt and her hands are in his boxers. He doesn’t care about the sloppiness, he fumbles with the condom until it’s perfectly on. They keep kissing. They kiss until he’s completely inside of her. Townes looks up at Dolly. He watches a certain pleasure wash over her face, the sounds of their breathing disappear into the night. The louder she becomes, the worse it gets. He tries to focus on himself but it’s too late. She’s ruined it.
Townes doesn’t finish. He doesn’t appreciate the effort, in fact, he’s annoyed. At Dolly, at the fucking crickets, at everything.
“I’m sorry,” Dolly says.
“For what?”
“Well, you didn’t, um,” she stumbles over her words like an embarrassed child with a speech impediment who can’t seem to pronounce their R’s.
“Were you trying your best?” he asks playfully. It was like fucking a french fry. She looks insulted by the question, like of course I tried my best you ungrateful piece of shit. And then she looks determined. She runs a soft hand up and down up and down until she slides her mouth over up and down up and down. Mascara runs down her eyes. He finishes.
Townes doesn’t remember how he got home or how he woke up in his bed. He promptly checks his phone revealing 27 calls made to Paul between 2-2:34 a.m. Fuck.

Chapter Nine

Fuck. Fuck. It's such a versatile fucking word.
Fuck my life. Fuck. Fucking. Fucked. Fucks. I'm so fucking stupid.
What the fuck did I do?
Why the fuck are you asking me? I don't fucking know!
It was your fucking fault!
So now it's my fucking fault?
It's always your fucking fault, you fucking idiot. Jesus, get a fucking grip!
Don't tell me what to fucking do!
Why not?
Fuck you. He won't say shit.
He will.
Shut the fuck up.
You shut the fuck up.
I'll get him fired. I'll threaten the fuck out of him.
Oh, will you? Will you threaten the fuck out of him?
Yes.
No, you won't, you fucking pussy.
Watch your fucking mouth.
You're simply not that guy.
Who the fuck do you think you are, talking to me like that?
I'm you.
We'll be fine.
Will we?
Of course. We're in control.
We're right. We are.
We're so in control.
We're the most in control we've ever been.
We're God.
Are we a benevolent God?
We can be, when we want something.
Δόλος

Chapter Ten

Melissa wasn’t sure who was fucking her. Well, she knew it was her ex-boyfriend, but she didn’t really, truly, know him. She was playing a new character today, the desperate, yearning ex-girlfriend. She did not enjoy this role. She was faking it.
“Oh, fuck,” James says, stilling above her.
“Oh my god. That was so good,” Melissa says. “I missed you.” She wants him out of her. She tries to push him off, softly, lovingly, playfully. He doesn’t move.
“That felt so fucking good,” he says like a panting dog. “I missed you too. Forreal.” She smiles at him. This is good, he misses her.
She wonders if it will be enough for him to take her back. When he slips himself out, she feels violent. There are these brief moments, after you let a boy fuck you, that they are sweet. They’re spent and agreeable, trying to regain their strength, completely satisfied. These are the moments you get what you want out of them.
“We should talk about us,” Melissa says innocently. “We should get back together.”
James sighs thoughtfully. “Is that like, really what we need right now, though? School starts in three weeks, can't we just vibe until then?” He means: can't we just keep fucking until then?, and: it's summer, c’mon baby it's summer, I’m going to fuck other girls, but it's fucking summer babe, let's just have fun.
“What about when school starts?” she asks calmly.
“Let's talk about it then.” And suddenly, that moment is gone. That fleeting, post orgasmic manipulation, is over.
Melissa feels like a fucking idiot. She got nothing out of this. The sex was horrible– she would have to sort that out herself later. She can't wait three weeks, she needs things.
Her school supplies, her makeup, her nails, her entire fucking life, were all funded by James. She feels sick, letting this boy shove into her over and over for 2 minutes and he won't even take her back? She fights the urge to throw up looking at the used condom melting in the trash can. She is, just as that cream filled condom is, one-time-use trash.
She's disgusting. Easy. Whore. Slut. So fucking pathetic. Trash. Unwanted. Undesirable. Worthless. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. He's a fucking loser. Yes. He's a fucking loser. Yes. Wow, I’m so happy you agree. Of course I agree, you’re like, really pretty. I am pretty, huh?
“I need to go home,” she says.
“Why?”
“I thought you wanted to work things out and I obviously can see you don't want me anymore, so I’ll stop bothering you. I want you to enjoy your summer, not be worried about me.”
“Stop, Mel. I just still need time, you know? I still want you, deadass, I just need time.”
Melissa doesn't leave. She watches James play Call of Duty for two hours, red in the face, shouting obscenities through a black headset.

Chapter Eleven

Townes is paranoid.
He needs to confront Paul, but he isn’t sure how to approach it. Townes is supposed to be good, no drugs, no alcohol, no sneaking out of the house at night, and certainly no fucking white trash french fry girls in the grass! If Paul snitches, he will be well and truly fucked.
The bedroom is glowing. Townes groans dramatically into his pillow, last night's events playing on his mind. It was so warm, so wet; alcohol really is the best. And Dolly has alcohol, so he needs to see her again. Preferably tonight. But first, he has to take care of the little problem known as Paul. However, this could be considered a big problem as Paul is really fucking fat.
Townes puts on a pair of sunglasses and walks downstairs, his pounding head signaling the birth of a migraine. “Nora,” Townes says quietly. “Where’s Paul?”
“I haven’t seen him,” Nora says.
“Oh, you haven’t?” Mice see everything, he thinks. “Get him for me.” Townes is nodding off on the couch by the time Nora brings Paul to him. Nora and Paul both exchange knowing glances.
“Um,” Nora hesitates to disturb him. “Townes. Paul is here.” It’s like hearing a mosquito in my ear.
“Paul,” Townes begins. “As a man, I have needs. Dolly was practically begging me. Would you ever turn down a girl like that, Paul? I felt so much peer pressure last night. You think I wanted to drink that much? It was fu-, it was disgusting. It was literally hand sanitizer Paul. Hand sanitizer. Why would I willingly drink hand sanitizer, Paul? Seriously.”
Paul and Nora stare at Townes in complete silence. No one knew what was happening.
“No drugs?” Paul asks.
“No,” Townes says.
“Well then, I don’t see why I need to tell your parents. What’s one night of fun?” Paul pats Townes on the shoulder, like a father, as he returns outside.
“Who’s Dolly?”
“Why do you care, Nora?” Townes asks.
“I just never heard that name before.”
“It’s an ugly ass name. It offended me the first time I heard it, personally,” Townes smiles. “Nora, you are so fucking obvious.”
“What's that supposed to mean?"
“You’re really stupid, too.” And fat. And hideous. And repulsive. And pathetic. And round. But he doesn’t say those things. Townes is always trying to be better today than he was yesterday.
“That’s not nice,” Nora says, her voice cracking slightly.
“Holy shit, are you about to cry?”
She doesn’t answer. She runs to the kitchen. Townes thinks Nora should have healthier coping mechanisms; food isn’t a healthy escape from negative emotions.

Chapter Twelve

Dolly gets off work at 10 pm.
They’ve been texting lightly throughout the day, he can’t stop thinking about drinking. Townes decides to invite Dolly over. He can’t afford to break any more rules, but he’s uncomfortable with the idea of her invading his space. He’s never invited anyone to his home before. It’s not that he doesn’t have any friends, he just hates all of them.
At school, he is a normal, well adjusted-boy. He adopts his schoolsona: he loves playing video games, eating pizza, smash or pass discussions, watching football on Sundays. He’s Amy fucking Dunne. Cool boy. Cool boy is hot. Cool boy is game. Cool boy is fun. They love a boy Townes is pretending to be and all that bullshit. Jesus. The point is, Townes doesn’t have any genuine friends. He’ll just tell Dolly not to touch anything, and not to breathe too hard, and make sure she leaves as soon as possible.
Townes eats dinner alone in his room. Dolly will be here in 3 hours. He is so painfully bored. He goes to find Nora, it’s his time of need– she’ll entertain him. There’s a game Towne’s likes to play, when he’s bored: “How fast can I make Nora cry?”
Nora’s sitting on the couch watching TV, some show about a slutty reporter returning to her home town to investigate the murders of two girls. He watches the reporter pacify herself with alcohol and hate her mother and then hate herself and then drink some more and then run her mouth about how much she hates her life. She’s so emo, he thinks. So unhinged.
“Why are there cuts all over her body?” Townes asks, plopping down next to Nora, causing her milkshake to slosh over the glass.
“I don’t know,” Nora says. “Maybe she’s trying to get the bad stuff inside to leak out, I guess.” Townes thinks about self harm. He thinks about the act of taking a razorblade to his wrist and slicing. He cringes. This woman on the screen is completely mutilated, ruined. It’s grotesque what she’s done to her body. He would never want to harm himself so visibly like that, it’s disgusting. It’s weak.
“Nora, if you cut yourself like that do you think blood would leak out, or just a shit ton of lard?” He watches her face for a reaction. She flares her nostrils, her eyes gloss over, her bottom lip quivers. That was almost too easy; he doesn’t feel his normal satisfaction. Nora turns off the TV and stands and he watches her walk away. It’s no fun when mice don’t fight back.
Townes goes outside. He decided to torture himself, rather than someone else. In science class, Townes learned that nothing is ever truly touching anything else. He reminds himself of this as grass clippings, gnats, and dust touch him. It is an illusion of closeness, but nothing is actually getting through his skin. He keeps walking, he tries not to get overwhelmed. The gardeners are loud, the birds are even louder, he’s made a mistake coming outside. He stands in the middle of the yard with his eyes closed, he wishes himself off earth.

Chapter Thirteen

When Dolly arrives at 10:26 pm, Townes doesn’t greet her. She doesn’t mind as his eyes wander over her appearance. She looks exceptionally trashy tonight, with pin straight blonde hair and thick, black eyeliner. Townes discovers that he likes this look on girls.
They walk upstairs to his room. She’s holding onto his arm; he lets her. His room was perfectly clean until Dolly entered; he practices breathing exercises.
“Jesus, Townes,” Dolly says with the excitement of a coked-up college cheerleader.
“What?”
“Your house. There was a fucking gate.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s like,” she pauses. “It’s like, like really big.”
“It depends what you’re comparing it to,” he says smiling.
“I live in a trailer.”
“Interesting,” he says. She sits on the floor and reaches into her bag, pulling out the cherry vodka. Townes decides to sit down next to her while she passes him the bottle. They stay like this on the floor, drinking and sitting and looking.
“We should get on the bed,” Townes suggests.
“There’s nothin’ on your head,” Dolly giggles.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Townes asks, laughing.
He pulls her up with him to the bed, they keep drinking. He leans against the headboard, watching her. Dolly’s eyes are sparkling, she looks so alive. This makes Townes pause. Is she okay with being used so obviously? He wonders if she’ll feel proud about this when she returns to her dilapidated trailer.
“Are you proud, Dolly?”
“Proud of what?”
“Come here,” he tells her. She crawls to him on wobbly arms. “Can you read and write? What’s the highest number you can count to?” The truth is, Townes doesn’t find Dolly to be incredibly intelligent. She doesn’t seem offended by the questions, but she doesn’t answer him, instead she kisses him. She’s wearing a dress, as if she knew how this was going to go. They’re drunk and sloppy, and he moves her underneath him. He hates what comes next, but when she spreads her legs further, she helps him a lot.
“Townes,” she says between breaths. “I don’t have a good relationship with my dad.” He laughs like, yeah, no shit. But he strangely respects her honesty.
He says, “Neither do I.”
They keep fucking.
“He’s a crackhead,” she moans.
“My dad’s marrying a 25 year old.”
They start laughing even louder, the old wooden floors groan beneath the moving bed.

Chapter Fourteen

Melissa never misses a party.
She doesn’t feel like she exists unless she’s around other people. People who hate themselves hate to be alone.
“Are you and James back together?” asks Jenna.
“Ew,” Melissa scoffs. “He’s just being so fucking weird. I don’t know what he wants.”
“Literally just date someone else,” says Emily. “We’re so over James.”
“Wait, are we?” says Melissa, surprised. “Why?”
“He’s so annoying. Like really icky,” says Emily. “Did you fuck?”
“We always fuck.”
“See? He literally only values you for your body,” says Emily.
“But he’s so hot,” says Jenna. “And he’s rich.”
“That is literally just what I was thinking,” says Melissa. “I think I really love him.” The girls all start laughing. “Obviously I don’t love him,” Melissa laughs. “But I love things about him.”
“You love fucking him.”
Melissa rolls her eyes, suppressing a gag at the memory of her earlier activity. “Why not find someone new tonight?” Jenna suggests. Melissa considers dropping James entirely, he’s become too useless.
“James will be there, though,” says Melissa.
“Gross.”
They all keep talking, applying makeup, and styling their hair. She lets the girls talk amongst themselves-- she needs a moment alone.
Melissa stands in the bathroom and confronts herself. She sees the girl that’s being reflected back to her; honeyed hair, soft skin flecked in gold, glowing lips. She looks like a real girl. This girl could be loved.
She tries not to cry. Sadness seems to have this violent way of finding her. It is the slowness in which life moves that causes this current despair. Melissa doesn’t want to keep fucking her ex-boyfriend, or going to highschool parties, or studying for math tests. She wants to be 30 years old, somewhere far from here, doing absolutely nothing at all. Her dreams slice her open and humiliate her.
This day with James had really soured her mood. With school starting soon, she’s running out of time. Every night she goes home to a 1950s bungalow with yellowing siding and weathered shingles, a mildew infested bathroom, two young siblings, ramen, canned chicken, and Spam. That’s Melissa’s terrible secret. She stares at herself and waits to take a new form. She can have anyone she wants-- she’s a real catch. She is the divine feminine; she can breathe life back into herself. She can breathe life into anything. And she can take life too. This is fucking gender euphoria. The world is her goddamn oyster.
Men don’t know the first thing about suffering. Girls are born to suffer, and bleed, and scream, and get torn in half. Girls like her are filled with rot and poetry. Rot and poetry. She laughs. She accepts the awful life she was given, she accepts her beauty, she accepts her own inadequacy. Life is my bitch. I could hang myself in this bathroom. She laughs more. Her eyes swell up with tears of joy. This is life, she thinks. This is life. Why should she kill herself? Why should she rid the world of someone as gorgeous as her? She was sucked into the vagina of true love, a brief, romantic, mysterious incubation period, pushed out wailing and wet, and born anew with a mouth full of cherries.
When you are born choking on the taste of love, this is your first thought: I want to eat.
“You were in there forever,” says Emily. Yeah, because I just had a fucking epiphany, you ugly cunt. Melissa looks at her friend.
Emily looks like she feels beautiful, so confident. But there’s red lipstick on her teeth, her contour is harsh and unforgiving, and her pores look like Swiss cheese. She looks pathetic in a way that you almost feel bad, almost, because you can tell she tried really hard and she felt so good about how things turned out, and she was so excited to look different that it blinded her from what she truly is: ugly. You cannot cover up ugly. Ugliness, much like love, cannot be concealed or hidden.
Melissa says, “You look beautiful.”
Reality is whatever we make it.

Chapter Fifteen

There is a body in his bed.
Townes violently swats off the warm hand clinging to his shirt. His head hurts. The sunlight is offending him.
“Good mornin’,” says Dolly in a sleepy voice.
“Why are you still here?” says Townes in a sleepier voice.
“I fell asleep,” she says. “Let’s finish this.” She waves the nearly empty vodka bottle in front of Townes, the liquid sloshes and bubbles. Townes smiles at her before bringing the bottle to his lips and drinking. It doesn’t take long until it’s completely empty. It doesn’t take long until they’re kissing.
“You really need to leave,” Townes says against her lips.
“You’re so drunk,” she giggles. “You’re really beautiful, Townes.”
He laughs. “Thank you.” The entire room is spinning, Dolly’s eyeliner has run down her cheeks, her hair is messy. He remembers it being blurry. He sort of remembers the condom. He remembers their breathing getting faster. He remembers not finishing. He remembers her leaving.
Townes is lying on the shower floor as hot water pelts him from above. He feels disgusting. At his lowest point, he rubbed hand sanitizer on his dick. He stays under the water until he can’t feel her anymore, until the remnants of her vagina on his dick are rushing down the drain into oblivion. He is absolutely still drunk.
He finds a pair of boxer shorts and struggles to put them on. Everything is so difficult and yet so easy; he can’t handle being himself when he’s sober. This is drunken bliss.
He puts on sunglasses and heads downstairs, unaware of the time, unaware of anything, just needing water. The staircase is tricky; he uses one hand to hold the wall as he descends what his mind has decided is Mount Everest. After stumbling into the kitchen and finding the fridge, Townes grabs a bottle of water-- he doesn’t trust tap, or any of that shit that comes out of the fridge. He sits on the kitchen floor, leaning against the fridge, and drinks his water as if it were nectar of the gods.
“Jesus, Townes,” Miss Agnello says. “Why are you on the floor? How’s the view from down there?”
“It’s a horrible view,” he slurs. “Where is your daughter?”
“Nora? I’m not sure. Haven’t seen her since lunch. Speaking of lunch, what do you want me to fix you? You look hungry. Ah, never mind I’ll choose. Get out of my kitchen.” Townes struggles to stand, but eventually he's able to do as he’s told and shuffles off, in pursuit of Nora.
Nora is sitting with Bella by the pool in the warm, soft grass. Bella was Townes’ babysitter before he got too old. She was his mother’s favorite little project. His mother believed in surrounding her son with beauty, and as her name suggests, Bella is beautiful. She is everything that Nora isn’t: skinny, tall, and memorable. After Bella became useless as a babysitter, she began working part-time as a cleaner when she’s not in class at the local community college.
“Townie!” Bella yells. She runs over to him and kisses his cheek. “I like your sunnies. You’re also very drunk. Like, very.”
Townes asks, “What time is it?”
“Oh it’s like,” she checks her phone. “It’s almost 5:30. Holy shit, did you just wake up?”
He smiles at the concerned look on her face. He doesn’t mind Bella. She’s practically an older sister, she’s maternal. “Shouldn’t you be cleaning my house?”
“I already did,” she says laughing. “Hang out with us, Townie!” When Townes is drunk, he doesn’t mind being outside. He places his head on Bella’s lap, she runs a hand through his hair.
Nora watches them together and she is overcome with jealousy and sadness. Why couldn’t Townes want her like that? She cried last night and cried again this morning. She heard them together, Townes and some girl. She fell asleep to the rhythmic sounds of their fucking. She always assumed Townes had probably had sex before, but she had never seen him interact with girls. He never brought any home. This girl must be someone he really likes if he’s invited her and let her spend the night. She wants to be more like Bella. She wants his head resting in her lap, her hands moving throughout his hair. She can’t stop thinking about that time he held her hand; she would die happy after that night.
“What did you do last night?” Bella asks Townes.
“Charity work,” he responds. Nora is surprised by his answer. Why would he talk about the girl he’s in love with like that? Nora can’t help herself. She blurts out, “Is she your girlfriend?”
Townes squints his eyes at her behind his sunglasses. “What the fuck are you talking about, Nora?”
“I heard you with a girl last night.”
“Yeah, and I heard your fatass in the kitchen last night. Why are we pointing out what everyone’s doing? Bella, let us know what you did last night, that way Nora can comment on that too.”
“Townes!” Bella exclaims. “You were with a girl? Who?”
“Her name’s Dolly,” he says.
“Townes, are you in love? You’re totally in love! Is she pretty?” Townes laughs. He feels sick. Maybe the heat is getting to him.
He announces, “I’m going inside.”
Miss Agnello brings a grilled cheese to Townes’ room. “What is that?” he asks.
“Take your sunglasses off, maybe you could see. Is that the new cool thing to do? Wear sunglasses inside? It smells like alcohol in here. Why does it smell like alcohol in here Townes?”
“Thank you, that will be all,” he says lazily. Townes has never said that phrase before in his life.
“That will be all?” Miss Agnello mimics. “Have you taken something?” Townes rolls his eyes at the dramatics.
“I think I have food poisoning,” he says. “This grilled cheese will help. I think.” She looks him over, once, twice, until she is confident he is not on any drugs, and leaves.
He opens a text from Dolly: heyyy do u wanna go to a party tn
Townes is confused. Why would she invite him to a party? And more importantly, why would he go? There are many things in this world that make Townes uncomfortable, and parties are very high on his list. Possibly on his top ten. He doesn’t text her back.
they r gettin hella bottles loll
Townes rethinks his previous stance on parties.

Chapter Sixteen

Melissa needs a job.
Pretty girls suffer the most. She can’t stand her friends, getting everything handed to them, never having to worry.
She left Emily’s house early; the anxiety of having no money got to her. She was still going to try and make it to the party, but it wasn’t incredibly important anymore. Her friends could never understand what it’s like to truly suffer. Their proximity to privilege makes them almost as bad as men. Well, she’ll admit, it’s not all bad. Melissa got to tag along on their expensive trips, she’s been to Aspen twice. Twice! She’s received some really lovely birthday gifts, she’s learned manners, she’s learned a few tricks. James helped her fit in; she owes everything to him. She’ll always resent him for making her so needy, so dependent. Relying on men is a death of its own.
So far, she’s visited a few different establishments in varying states of sleaziness. She liked the pineapple themed Vietnamese restaurant, but her hair started to smell like fish oil so she obviously decided against it. Then she tried iHop, the manager wouldn’t stop staring at her tits, which normally wouldn’t be a problem, but he looked 55 and had 2 remaining teeth.
Melissa keeps walking down a tree lined street holding a melting vanilla ice-cream cone. She steps on every crack on the sidewalk. She stops in front of a bookstore cafe where only male authors are being displayed and she rolls her eyes. Men don’t write great novels anymore. They make podcasts about the sexual habits of women and fall down Alt-right pipelines on Reddit. Incel indoctrination. None of them have felt the tender, loving touch of a woman. They get no pussy.
“Hey, can I help you find anything?” The question comes from an older man, probably in his 30s, clean shaved beard, green eyes, tall. Hot as fuck. Melissa smiles at him.
“I’m just looking,” she says.
“Well,” he says smiling. “I’ll be around if you need me.” She keeps browsing, pretending to look at all of the books. The Art of Seduction, Norwegian Wood, Crime and Punishment, Notes from the Underground. This guy is a sick fuck, she thinks. The store is nice, clean, quiet, and empty. She fluffs her hair, adjusts her tits, and goes to find him.
“You all good?” the man asks. She widens her eyes like a child, reveals her dimples, he looks at her chest for a second too long.
“Are you guys hiring?” she asks, pulling out a printed copy of her resume.
“Uh,” he laughs awkwardly. “It’s just me at the moment. We don’t get a lot of customers, so.”
“I’d love to work here,” she insists. “This is my resume. I’ll be available evenings and weekends. I’m a really good worker and I love books. You have an amazing selection. I’m a huge fan of Robert Greene!”
“Oh dope, no way!” the man says. “Yeah, uh, weird enough the director of The Love Witch, Anna Biller, is actually a good friend of mine. Robert’s an interesting dude.” Melissa gasps, The Love Witch? The fucking Love Witch? She believes herself to be a bit of a witch; she adores that film.
“That is literally one of my favorite movies,” she says dreamily. “I promise I’ll work hard. I’ll do whatever you tell me to do. Anything.”
“I wouldn’t pay you that much.” Fuck my life. “I could start you at around 10 dollars an hour? I know it’s not much b—”
“No, stop, that’s perfect! Thank you! Thank you so much. I can start working whenever you want. I could literally start right now.”
The man laughs at her, “Why don’t you come in tomorrow, we can start some training. I’m Mike by the way.”
“Mike,” she says sweetly. “I’m Melissa.”
She feels like she can eat the world raw. She decides to go to that party.

Chapter Seventeen

Townes hears a voice calling his name from somewhere in the house, but it’s way too loud. He turns to go back outside.
“Townes!” his father shouts. “Hey buddy. Oh, you’re just wearing boxers. And, uh, sunglasses. That’s a cool look.” Townes’ eyes roll to the back of his head, he breathes through his nose and exhales slowly through his mouth.
“Hey Townes!” shouts Grace. Oh, fuck my life.
“How may I help you?” Townes felt like he was talking like a middle-aged man all day, but decided to just roll with it.
“We, well I, have some things I need to discuss with you. Your mom’s in Saint Tropez, so she wanted me to pass along a few messages. I have messages of my own too, I just, well, wanted to be helpful. You know, to your mother.” Nervous ramblings, what a joke.
“Okay so pass them along,” says Townes.
“Why don’t we all sit,” suggests his father.
Townes never realized how stiff the furniture is in the sitting room. No one ever sits in here. For what? To yearn and weep dramatically on 19th century French furniture? This house looks like the goddamn Louvre sometimes. “So, uh,” his idiotic father begins. “You’re not going back to Archmere. Your mom thinks it’s too far from home. I have to agree with her Townes, it’s almost four hours away. It’s just, uh, after what happened, you know. We’d be more comfortable if you went to a school near here.” He didn’t know what to say. No truly, he didn’t know what to say. Is he supposed to care what school he goes to? It didn’t make a difference.
Townes replies, “Thank you for letting me know three weeks before school starts. Really great timing on your part. But okay, that’s fine.”
“Okay? I mean, okay! Okay! Yeah, buddy! This is good. Finishing out high school strong, there you go! You, uh, we accepted an enrollment on your behalf. West Oak Academy, it’s about 30 minutes from here. You can board or commute; it's up to you.” Townes thinks about this. He likes being home, but he also likes not being home. Boarding school doesn’t have Nora, but then again, boarding school doesn’t have Nora. Decisions, decisions.
“What do you think I should do, Grace?” Townes asks. “Do you want to weigh in, or just fucking sit there?” He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly angry, but he’s in his home. He can speak however he wants.
“Townes,” his father says cautiously.
“I think you should write a pros and cons list of both,” she says smiling.
“That’s very good advice Grace, thanks,” Townes says.
“Well, uh. W-we wanted to uh, bring up one more thing,” his father stutters. Townes watches Grace squeeze his father’s hand and silently shake her head no.
“Yes?” Townes says expectantly.
“Maybe, honey, now’s not—”
“Yes, father?”
“Okay, listen,” his father says. “Grace is pregnant.” Townes' vision begins to blur, his brain melting through his mouth, unable to speak. His inheritance. His beautiful, untouched, glorious inheritance, split in two. Angels weep.
“Dad, have you lost your fucking mind?” Townes asks calmly. “The baby is going to come out retarded. I’m not kidding. You’re fucking 60 years old, it’s way more likely, you know that right? I learned that in sociology. And you, are you happy that you’ve trapped an old man? All you’re getting out of this is a retarded baby. You realize that right?”
“Townes! That is quite enough!” his father attempts to yell. “Yes, I’ll admit, this wasn’t planned, but shit happens. Because of this, we’ve decided to move up the wedding. I’ll have Christine forward you the details. It’s actually a lovely venue, I think you’ll really like it. Really like it. We're not worried about the baby's health; I haven't even reached 56 yet, Townes. Aging is a beautiful process. ”
“Will it still be a beautiful process when Grace turns 30? It didn’t work out like that for mom, by the way. Like, at all. 28 is your cut-off isn’t it?” His father’s face heats in shame.
“Townes listen,” Grace says. “I know you aren’t thrilled about this, but nothing’s going to change for you. The baby will be out of sight, out of mind. You know? Namaste!”
“Thank you Grace, that really eases my worries,” he says. Whatever. The inheritance from his mother will be larger. Larger than God. That little parasite can take half, fuck it. He's happy he’s not sober for this conversation. “Dad, I would like to ask for something.”
“What is it now, Townes?”
“There’s a party tonight. I want to go.”
“Oh. Oh, well that’s, that’s, um.”
“You just ruined my life and I can’t go to a fucking party?” Townes sighs dramatically, bowing his head.
“Sweetheart, let him go to the party. Let him have some fun,” Grace whines. She winks at Townes, he smiles at her.
“Oh hell, why not. Go ahead kiddo, just be safe, have some fun. If there’s any drinking or drugs, Paul will come pick you up, okay? Paul is just a phone call away, okay?"
As Townes stalks off, he can hear his father, just barely.
"That went well, right? As well as it could've gone?"

Chapter Eighteen

Melissa’s dress is bubblegum pink. She’s texting Snat, some wannabe drug dealer from her old school, her old life. She gets a lot of free shit from him. Or at least as free as she could.
lil snatty: wya
smelly melly: coming rn lol
She's meeting Snat at a sad, little park, he’s sitting on a rusty bench.
“Sup, Mel.”
“Hey,” she greets. “Do you have it?” “You know I always got you,” he says, pulling out a little plastic baggy. “All yours.” Melissa walks over to take it from him, he stands up, putting it back in his pocket. He bends down and whispers in her ear, “Eight balls ain’t cheap, Mel.” She grabs his sweatshirt with both hands, “I know.” She rests her head on his chest, “You can’t fuck up my dress. Or my hair.” Melissa seizes the pleasure that James denied her, her dress is completely off and folded neatly, she moans, he pushes deeper, he dangles the coke in front of her face, Snat leaves with a kiss goodbye. She walks into a shitty diner to use the bathroom, she is glowing from the neon signs and the sweet heat of summer. Her little heels stick to the floor as she walks, she can feel the eyes of men roam over her, she walks slower, let’s them see, she doesn’t mind. The bathroom seems cleaner than the diner itself. One must always pee after sex. Always. She washes her hands thoroughly, she loves the feeling of suds. An older woman enters the bathroom, definitely does meth, or black tar heroin. They exchange smiles through the cloudy mirror. Melissa pulls a lip gloss out of her bra, everything looks good, her lashes are in place, her hair is big and soft. She looks beautiful. She uses a thin paper towel to blot her foundation. She sucks her middle finger to get the excess gloss off of her lips. “Well aren’t you a pretty little thing,” the older woman rasps. “Just look at ya!” “Aw, thanks girl,” Melissa says. She studies the woman, noting her Goodwill attire, greasy blue eyeshadow, slack jaw, papery lips, and dusty John Deere boots. How the fuck did she afford those? She asks the woman, “Should I try heroin or meth next?” The woman breaks out into a dry gurgle, presumably a laugh of some sort. “I used to be as pretty as you. Oh, yeah. They called me Betty Loo. Yup. Full head a’ hair, all my teeth, best rack in town. I had some meat on my bones. Ha! But you know what? I wouldn’t trade the feelin’ of heroin for anythin’. It’s my lover. Yup. My lover. Imagine the best orgasm in the world times ten billion. That’s heroin.” Melissa hates junkies. She thinks about that filthy woman as she walks to the party, she feels no sympathy for addicts. They ruin things. She thinks of having to go home later tonight, she thinks of her father, she shivers. At least she’s accomplished something, she’s got herself a job! That’s more than a lot of people can say. And she didn’t even need to fuck Mike to get hired. He must really see something special in her. She laughs to herself, she knows Mike wants to fuck her. That’s what they always want. Throughout her life, Melissa’s body has been her currency. She doesn’t feel bad about it, but it never feels particularly good afterwards. Sometimes she feels like she’s been all used up, like she could disappear completely. It has never been love. Today felt good. She got the job. She did that. All by herself. Her smile widens.

Chapter Nineteen

Townes is lying face down on his bed, he is struggling with receiving some very difficult news. He knows his father is a balding piece of shit, but this? This is too far. A baby can never be forgiven. Townes has been thinking awful thoughts. Revenge will be purifying. He tries to decide what to wear for tonight, he wants to conceal his inexperience. Townes has never been to a party, he doesn’t plan to stay long. He’ll pay someone for one of the bottles and be on his way. All of his cards had been confiscated, he’s lucky to have hidden some cash for times like this. He always knew the day would come that his parents lost their fucking minds. They act like it was his fault he overdosed. Jesus. It was a mild cocaine addiction. When his parents congratulated him on his outstanding GPA, they were also congratulating cocaine. And adderall. And ritalin. And meth that one time. The point is, drugs are always being cut with some awful shit, but you don’t demonize the drugs. You don’t blame the drugs. And you certainly don’t blame Townes. Drugs are our friends, they’re useful. When something is unfortunately laced with fentanyl, it usually just kills you. He often wishes that had been the outcome. Regardless, he is alive. In a thousand agonies, he is alive. Paul drops Townes down the street from the party, offering a few words of encouragement, life-lessons, superstitions. He doesn’t know what to expect, he doesn’t really care. Townes makes sure not to step on any cracks on sidewalk. He hears the music wafting from the house, the night seems to vibrate with it. Nobody here but Dolly will know him, he’s thankful for that. Townes struggles silently to go inside the house but it’s too small, too loud, too many people, everyone is singing and laughing, it’s a can of sardines. He turns to leave, he gives up completely, he’s about to text Paul to turn around. A hand grabs his arm, “Hey!” It’s Dolly. He feels neither relief nor excitement seeing her. He looks back at his phone without acknowledging her, pulling up Paul’s contact. She tells him, “Let’s get a drink.” Townes puts his phone in his pocket. He says, “I can’t go in there.” “Why?” He struggles to answer this. He doesn't know why. He feels like a pussy. He’s a fucking loser, that’s why. “I’ve never been to a party before,” he tells her. “You’re jokin’ me!” She looks at him for a second and smiles. “We don’t have to stay. We just have to get drunk.” “Do you know who brought the bottles?” he asks. “Yeah. It was Zack, I think,” she says. “You know, rumor has it that Zack cheated on Lacey with Samantha. He’s a pig, Townes. He’s a dirty pig. And he’s not even hot.” “I don’t know who any of those people are,” he says. “Point him out for me.” So she does. Dolly is not wrong, Zack is ugly. His hair is soaked in grease and dusted in dandruff, his pale forehead is red and irritated with little pus filled pimples, his nose is covered in tiny black dots bunched together like caviar. Zack is almost as repulsive as Paul. Almost. Townes walks up to the boy through the lawn, he doesn’t get too close. “Are you Zack?” he asks dryly. “Depends who’s askin’,” he chuckles, bobbling his second chin. Townes pulls out a hundred dollar bill. “Can I buy a bottle from you?” “Woo-wee, looky what we got here! You got a fuckin’ Benjamin! Well hell yeah man, whatever you want I got you. I got vodka, whiskey, beer …” Zack drones on and on and on about his selection. Townes' face heats in excitement. He interrupts Zack, “What kind of vodka?” “I got some Grey Goose man,” he smiles, revealing teeth coated in thick plaque and inflamed gums. Townes takes a slow step back. “Yeah that’s good,” Townes says. He watches Zack run to a low truck and pull out the bottle. Townes feels his fingers twitch. “Here man.” “Thanks.” Townes pretends that the bill accidentally drops from his hand, but really he just wants to see Zack pick it off the ground with his fat fingers. It’s important that people like Zack remember their place, you never hand them things directly. With the bottle in his hand Townes feels suddenly, and completely, evil. He is unaware of how it will manifest, but he knows it’s coming. He has been reunited with, arguably, the love of his life. This is all he needs forever. Until death do us part. He watches Dolly walk towards him, he rolls his eyes. When she reaches him, Dolly knows she’s interrupted some kind of holy matrimony. She also knows that when Townes drinks, they have a lot of fun.

Chapter Twenty

James won’t stop texting Melissa. “Who’s that guy?” asks Jenna. “Wait who?” asks Emily. “Him,” Jenna points. “He’s talking to that blonde girl.” “No literally who is that?” Emily’s eyes widen. “Mel, look.” Melissa isn’t paying attention, her eyes are glued to her phone. James is losing it. wya? i’m here i can’t find u mel wtf text me back lol u fr rn ? i see u reading these “Mel he’s so hot,” Jenna says. “Like, so. And he's tall.” “Mel he’s so hot,” Jenna says. “Like, so. And he's tall.” “Yeah he's really tall.” “Who’s that girl?” “She looks like. I don't know. Kinda, I don't know. Oh my god wait! She looks exactly like Anna Nicole Smith! But like, skinnier.” “No, I totally get what you’re saying. Oh my god, Mel seriously. Look!” Melissa can’t think. She doesn’t need James anymore, but who is she if she’s not wanted? James wants her. He’s always wanted her. She isn’t as strong as she pretends to be. Actually she is. She’s strong as fuck. She’s feminine as fuck. She’s the moon and all of the stars. She’s the perfect temperature. She’s soft lighting. She is orbiting her own planet of love. She doesn’t text him back. Melissa looks up, “Who?” “He’s gone.” “Why the fuck do you keep looking at your phone?” asks Emily, annoyed. “He was genuinely, like, really hot. Like, objectively. “James keeps texting me,” Melissa says. “I’m blocking this rat. Wait, who's really hot?” “It was some guy. He was holding a huge bottle of Grey Goose.” Melissa says, “I love Grey Goose. Where is he?” “Oh my god Melissa. He’s gone. We literally just said that.” “Guys look.” Melissa pulls out the little bag. “Want some?” The girls squeal in unison. It is a shrill, awful sound, Melissa feels homicidal. She hates her friends, but the more she does for them the more they do for her. It is not an unconditional unison. The air of the party is sticky and sour. There is wet, brown sludge that coats the floor. Thick, purple vomit crusts the toilet seat. Melissa is in the bathroom with some guy that's wearing eyeliner. His name is Timmy. Or Tommy. She doesn't remember. His black nail polish is chipped, he has coke on his septum piercing. She’s sitting on the sink while he sits on the floor, smoking a rose petal blunt. “I basically told my mom that, like, Satanism isn’t actually devil worship, you know? She’s so fucking annoying with this shit. There’s a lot more demonic shit out there. Like, I could easily sacrifice her to Paimon and get like, rich as fuck. But obviously I don’t do any of that weird shit. Like don’t get me wrong, I easily could. Like easily.” “If I had a baby would you sacrifice it for me to Paimon? I want riches,” she smiles at him. “Woah. I mean. I’d have to think about it,” he laughs. “Like, would you want me to give you the baby? I deadass would, like easily. We could even try for one right now. Isn’t killing babies, like, really sick though? Isn’t that shit evil as fuck? How could we live with ourselves if we killed our baby?” “We should ask Casey Anthony,” she suggests. “I think everyone is evil as fuck. Whether they kill babies or not.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Townes is staggering to his room as Dolly follows. She’s holding on to him from behind, they are both incredibly drunk. They were drinking on the way home from the party in the back of Dolly’s friend’s cousin’s cousin’s step-sister’s car. He had Nora open the gate for them, he ignored her when they got inside the house. He collapses on the bed, pulling Dolly and the Grey Goose down with him. He wonders if the bottle will forgive him for the sin he’s about to commit; adultery. Dolly is already rubbing his dick, he’s too drunk to care. This is how he enjoys himself. “Dolly,” he says. “What?” “Be really loud,” he tells her, smiling. “You should scream my name.” “You hate that though,” she giggles. Dolly is observant. He says, “Nora is listening.” “Who the fuck is Nora? Townes, is your house haunted!” she laughs. “Is she a ghost?” “You know that fat bitch that let us in?” She nods. “That’s Nora.” She says, “I didn’t even notice her.” Townes decides to take one more sip, just one, for his nerves. Dolly is kissing his neck as he drinks. Sister wives. Her mouth replaces the bottle, he gently sets it down. “Wait,” he says between kisses. “I have an idea.” The thing with old homes is that they’re solid. Sure you can still hear things through the walls, but you’d really have to be listening hard. Townes wants to make it easy for Nora. Dolly is up against the wall, she’s practically screaming into the plaster. So many fucks and oh my gods. Her body is hitting the wall harder each time, she’ll have bruises for days. “Oh my god, Townes!” she screams. They both start laughing. He fucks her harder, she screams louder. They fall asleep on the floor. When he wakes up, Dolly is gone. She texted a few hours ago that she had to work. Townes brushes his teeth and washes his face. He falls asleep on the shower floor. He wakes up and drinks more. Townes continues this routine for days. He loses track of time, he’s run out of vodka. There’s no easy way to put it, he’s fucked up at noon. Miss Agnello has been bringing food to his room, he hasn’t been leaving. He stands in the shower trying to get sober enough to go downstairs, he’s run out of water bottles too. The trouble is, Townes can barely stand as he leaves the shower. He falls on his hands trying to put on boxers and sweatpants, his sunglasses nearly fall off. He manages, eventually, by the grace of god. Townes takes forty-five years to go down the stairs. He feels like he could fall and crack his neck at any second. This excites him. “Townes, are you okay?” calls Nora from the bottom of the staircase. “I’m—,” he gags. “I’m fine.” He’s proud of making it all the way to the bottom. “I haven’t really seen you. I heard you have food poisoning?” “Nora, maybe we should—,” he gags again. “Maybe we should kiss so that you get food poisoning too. You’d lose a shit ton— a shit ton of weight.” Nora's heart drops to her stomach. Is he fucking with her? She feels her cheeks blush cherry red, and her breathing becomes erratic. “Jesus look at your face,” he smiles. “You’re so fucking obvious, Nora.” He walks away from her, she’s a fucking joke. He turns back around. “Actually, could you bring me like twenty water bottles to my room?” “Twenty?” Nora asks. “You are—,” Townes takes a deep breath, his stomach is fucked, he’s going to puke. “You are so fucking annoying.” He discovers going up the stairs drunk is a lot easier than going down the stairs drunk, he makes it to his bathroom in an impressive time. He vomits and then vomits more because he’s vomiting. He feels better after, less sick, less drunk. He brushes his teeth a few times, he scrubs his tongue, he gargles mouthwash, he drinks a bit of the mouthwash, he gags. Townes would appreciate it if there was someone to test the taste of his mouth, but there’s no one around. Nora would probably lie to make him feel better. He goes to find Bella. Townes may be drunk, but he’s not stupid. Bella is nearly perfect. Nearly. He doesn’t rate blondes too high, but something about Bella. She’s in a tiny red bikini. It’s indecent. He supposes that he’s indecent too. Townes falls to the grass next to her, he places his head on her stomach. “Hi my prince,” Bella says, her hands seeking his hair. “You smell good.” Townes asks her to check his breath. “Mmm, so minty fresh,” she assures with a kiss on his cheek. “Are you sure? Smell it again.” “I promise it smells good. Smells like mint. Yum.” “Have you ever cleaned my room before?” “Sometimes,” she says softly, suddenly shy. “Only when you’re not home.” “I vomited all over my bathroom. Can you go clean it?” Bella dry heaves playfully. “Yeah, ew. Get up, I’ll go clean.” Townes follows her into the house, Nora watches them from the kitchen. Townes gives Nora the middle-finger. “Townes what the fuck are you talking about? There’s no vomit in here,” Bella calls from the bathroom. He knows of course, because he has an impressive aim. Right into the toilet. When she leaves the bathroom, she sees Townes leaning on his headboard in bed with his arms crossed. She walks over to him slowly. “Your room is spotless, Townie.” He moves to sit on the side of his bed, his feet are on the ground. He taps his cheek twice with his finger. Bella stands in between his legs, puts both of her hands on his shoulders, and kisses the spot he tapped. He runs his hands slowly up the back of her thighs, she stops breathing. He grabs her ass and she sighs softly. “Townes.” “Bella.” She tells him, “Shut up.” “That’s not nice,” he smiles lazily. She takes his sunglasses off. He sees on her face the moment things switch for her. He sees that she hates herself for it. She leans down and kisses him. He pulls her bikini bottoms down her legs, she steps out of them. Townes is present enough to know that he’s fucking his old baby-sitter. He messes up her hair and makeup on purpose, he wants her to feel humiliated for what she’s done, he wants her to remember.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Townes has never slept so peacefully. He goes to reach for the bottle and sadly remembers it’s empty. His world feels like it’s crashing down. He wants bits of blue sky to crack and impale him. He doesn’t know what to do without the vodka, he feels like a widower. The love of his life is dead. He must mourn. Whenever he’s with Dolly they end up fucking, so he needs someone else to get him alcohol. Someone who won’t try to fuck him. Melissa is staring at a pile of books. “Okay, so you’re saying you want them organized alphabetically.” “No, by author,” Mike says. “So, alphabetically?” “No. I want them to be organized by the author.” “So you want them organized alphabetically?” Melissa asks. “Jesus Christ, Melissa. Why are you so against organizing them my way?” “Your way is horrible,” she says. “Organizing them alphabetically makes way more sense.” He smiles, she likes the way his eyes crinkle. “Fine, Melissa. Do it your way.” Melissa hasn’t been home since the party. She’s dreading it. She’s bounced between Jenna and Emily’s houses. She loves her job. She loves having something to do. Anything is better than being home. Townes is walking down a tree lined street. He needed to get out of the house. Anything is better than being home. He got dressed in darkness, he has no idea how he looks right now. He assumes he looks decent, Townes doesn’t pay too much attention to these sorts of things, especially now that he’s sobering up painfully. New England summers are brutal. There’s so many tourists. So many man buns and crusty white dogs in strollers. He stops in front of a bookstore cafe. He needs coffee. The store is empty with the exception of a skinny emo man, and some smelly hippy woman. He hates these kinds of people. What does it say about him that they’re in the same establishment? If it could even be considered one. He walks to the counter and looks at the menu. He can’t see shit with his sunglasses. “Hey, what can I get for ya?” Townes stares at the man who asked. What kind of man makes coffee? What a loser. “Coffee,” Townes says. “Woah, yeah,” the man laughs. “We definitely have coffee. What kind of roast were you thinking? We also have hundreds of different flavors.” Townes is not impressed. It all tastes the same. What the fuck did this guy do? Go out and taste hundreds of different coffee flavors? This guy is a sick fuck, Townes thinks. He’s absolutely doing the most, and for what? To stock up his incredibly popular, and busy cafe? This place is pathetic. It’s depressing him. “I honestly don’t care,” Townes says. “Surprise me.” “Give me like ten minutes.” Townes slumps in one of the seats. He almost falls asleep until the man yells that the order is ready. Townes hands the man a hundred dollar bill. “Ah. Do you have anything smaller?” the man asks. Townes says, “No.” The man looks at him like he expects some sort of follow up, like, why don’t you have anything smaller? “I actually don’t have enough change to give you,” the man says. Looks like it’s this sad man’s lucky day. “Keep it.” “Are you sure? I apologize for the inconvenience. I could give you a giftcard or something. You could pick out a few books.” “Why wouldn’t I be sure? I just want the coffee.” “Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. Of course. Here you go.” Townes grabs the coffee and leaves without another word. What a terrible place. Melissa is in a stuffy, cramped back room opening shipments of new books and coffee beans, she hates the smell. “Jesus I hate the teenagers here,” Mike says, opening the door . “What?” Melissa gasps. “You hate me? What did I do? Look how hard I’m working for you Mikey.” “Not you,” he assures quickly. “This kid. I swear to god I saw him roll his eyes at least five times behind his sunglasses.” Melissa laughs, “Were you being annoying Mikey?” “No! He got mad at me because I didn’t have change for a fucking hundred dollar bill. Who even carries around that much cash? You can’t expect small businesses to keep that much change in store. It’s so dangerous.” Townes will admit, the coffee is amazing. That sad man has at least one thing going for him. It’s times like these Townes feels extra suicidal. He hears people around him laughing, running, enjoying the day. He has always found it painfully difficult to be a part of life. This pain was slicing him to pieces. Sometimes he forgets his own suffering. He knows he died before, that night he overdosed. He feels cheated. He does not like living in the in-between of life and death. Whatever hope he had inside of him was killed that night and yet it is hope still that lies dead inside of him rotting. He is filled with rot and hope. Rot and hope.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Melissa stands outside of the house. She doesn’t want to go inside. It is a horrible thing, having to return to a life you weren’t meant for. She walks around back, tall grass and weeds scratch at her bare legs. She picks a few wild flowers and assorts them nicely. The back door is always propped open with rocks or clay pots that hold dead plants, it squeaks too much. Melissa’s home is not very nice. She feels no relief from the summer heat as she steps inside. There are hundreds of dead ants in the bathtub corner. Everything is dirty. There is no one to sort things, or clean, or care. When Melissa is gone the home falls into a tragic state. She begins to tackle the mess. She scrapes old toothpaste out of the sink, scrubs the circle of black and brown grit inside the toilet after she flushed the old shit and piss, clears the spotted mirror, shakes out the dusty bath mat, wipes up all the soggy dead ants, gathers the dead flies in a plastic water bottle. “Lissy?” She turns around to see her sister. Melissa tries to smile at her, it is a concentrated effort to look happy. “Hey Bea. Do you know where daddy is?” “Daddy’s sleepin’ on the couch.” “Oh thank god. You hungry?” Bea shakes her head and smiles. “Okay, I’ll make you something.” The girls walk hand-in-hand to the kitchen, Bea accidentally steps on a black beetle, the wet crunch sends a shiver down Melissa’s spine. The counters are crowded with empty cans of Spam, beer bottles, cigarette buds, mouse droppings, this and that. Melissa clears a spot next to the sink for Bea to sit, she swings her feet around playfully. Melissa reaches into her back pocket and pulls out the flowers she picked, handing them to her sister. Bea giggles and smiles and sniffs. Melissa smears thick marshmallow creme and peanut butter on two pieces of soft white bread she picked mold off of. Good as new, she figures. She watches her sister stuff her face like a starved animal. “Where’s John?” Her sister shrugs her shoulders. “He hasn’t really been home much. He has friends now, Lissy.” “What friends?” “Some boys. They’re nice.” Melissa doesn’t really care where her brother is, she just doesn’t want to make another sandwich. She’s already planning to leave. “How have things been, Bea?” Her sister thinks for a moment. “Mommy is workin’ a lot. I play outside sometimes.” Melissa smiles. “Do you have any friends to play with?” Bea shakes her head no. “That’s okay. You don’t need friends. Friends are fucking retarded.” Bea laughs, “Yeah they’re retarded.” Melissa reaches into her bag and hands her sister a twenty dollar bill. Mike decided to give her some of the cash from the tip jar today, she almost kissed him for that. She whispers, “Don’t tell daddy and mommy. Promise? Okay. It’s all yours, don’t be stupid with it. Don’t share it with anyone. Not even John. Okay?” Bea whispers back, “I love you, Lissy.” Melissa starts to brush Bea’s hair, it’s horribly knotted. She does the best she can. She can’t stay here much longer. Melissa takes out the food she’s collected from her sleepovers, leftover chinese, chia seed pudding, pizza slices, Trader Joes sandwiches, organic bananas. “Daddy’s awake, Lissy.” Melissa begins to feel her heart beat rapidly. “Is that my Lissy girl?” She hates him. She should have changed. Her denim shorts are too short, you can see her ass. Her tank top is too cropped. She starts to stretch and pull and cover. Her father is a drunk, pathetic old man who has isolated himself in his own filth and piss. “Where you been, Lissy?” he asks, itching the soggy hair that curls on his chest. His nails are overgrown and dirty, his forehead beads with sweat, he reeks of cheap beer and harsh smoke. “With my friends,” she says. “Ha. You’re fuckin’ with me,” he laughs. “That’s what you wear around your little girly friends? You think I’m stupid?” Her father has no discretion in the way his eyes roam her body, lingering on her chest and the spot between her thighs. Her father never touched her, but she knew he always wanted to. He hid his perversions under a mask of disgust, but she knew. “How many of them losers been fuckin’ my daughter? Huh, Lissy? How many? Lost count?” Melissa doesn’t react to this shameful display of intimidation. She could put rat poison in everything in this house. She smiles at the thought. “Oh, you think that’s funny do you? You think fuckin’ every guy that look’s at you is funny? That’s a damn shame. I pray your sister don’t end up like you, Lissy. Fuckin’ and suckin’ and swallowin’. What a damn shame.” Her father has gotten thinner since she last saw him. His stained wife-beater has melted to his skin. He knows how to hurt Melissa. There is no point in arguing or defending because Rob Hill will die in this house. It is the only, singular thought that brings her comfort listening to his cruel words. Rob Hill will die in this house.

Chapter Twenty-Four

There is a week until school, Townes is preparing. His academic preparations have previously included multiple prescriptions of adderall and xanax, but he’s just not that guy anymore. He decided a few days ago not to live on campus, he’s grown fond of being home. Townes isn’t fit to live in dorms and share and coexist. At his old boarding school, Townes would often find secluded places on campus to avoid his dorm room. He knows he’s made the right decision. Townes always backs himself. In front of him there is a blank piece of paper. It’s been so long since he’s had to write, he’s not sure he remembers how. It’s like riding a bike, Paul said one day. As if Paul’s fatass could even fit on a bike. That would be a public safety hazard. Townes was given this lovely paper by Nora, who seems to have dusted it in her perfume. He begins to write his back-to-school list. back to school list vodka 2 black montblanc pens 4 pairs of black tom ford cashmere socks an assortment of thom browne polos Townes looks over his list a few times. Perfect. His father’s assistant has already ordered his uniforms and miscellaneous school supplies, he can handle the rest. Well, he’ll handle getting vodka, someone else can go buy his shit. Townes decides to look for Nora, he’s feeling particularly bored and restless, she’ll calm his nerves. Nora’s sitting in the kitchen peeling and cutting apples. She’s making pie. “Nora,” Townes says. “Hey, Townes. What’s up?” she doesn’t look up from the apple she’s skinning. This irritates Townes. Would it hurt to be shown a little respect in his own home? “I have a question.” She looks up quickly then, waiting obediently. “You know when Drake said that he fucked the girl that used to babysit him? How it was years ago on some crazy shit?” Townes asks. “Oh, he said that? I don’t really listen to his music.” “How do you feel about girls that fuck the kids they used to babysit?” “Well it’s horrible.” “Horrible how?” “How could you, I mean, literally how could you do that with a kid you watched grow up? It’s disgusting. But no one bats an eye because, what? The babysitter is, like, super pretty or whatever, so no one calls her a creep? If it was a male babysitter and a girl he used to babysit everyone would lose their minds. They’d call him a groomer or like, a rapist or pedophile. No one calls conventionally attractive women those things.” “You just called a conventionally attractive woman those things,” Townes says through a smile. “What?” Nora asks. Townes says, “Nothing. Enjoy your pie.” He walks out of the kitchen. The thing is, Nora doesn’t know Bella is sitting in the dining room listening to every word of their conversation. When Townes saw Bella, he wanted to fuck with them both. It went better than he hoped. Nora has no idea that Bella heard everything, calling her a creep, a groomer, a rapist, a fucking pedophile. He knows their friendship has just been irreparably damaged. Townes is back to drinking mouthwash, but he’s fed up. He deserves more than this. He knows he has to go see Dolly, there’s no other option. Paul drives Townes to the diner, he knows she’s working but some things are a bit more important than $2.50 an hour. Townes spots her taking orders in that obnoxiously loud voice again, she’s swamped with customers, bouncing prettily from one table to the next. Townes walks up to her as she goes over the dinner specials. “Yup! And that would come with a side of slaw an—” Townes puts an arm around Dolly and pulls her away. She is not happy. “What the fuck are you doin’, Townes,” she whisper yells. “I’m wor—”. He shoves two hundred dollars in her hand. She stares at him wide-eyed and confused. “Can you get me another bottle? You can keep the other hundred,” he says. Dolly looks between him and the money. “Can you? Why are you silent as fuck?” “Yeah, I’ll get you one,” she agrees with a smile, shoving the money in her little apron. “I have to keep workin’, but I’ll text you.” She goes to apologize to the family she was serving, but another waitress has already taken her spot. Summer is ending. It is a season of perpetual nothingness. Listless, soft, boring. Summer is something that pretends to be something else entirely, it is an idea of a season, an idea of something, an illusion of rest and relaxation, a misshapen sac that refuses to take form. These are not the happy months. Too much time spent in summer and you start to inherit its nothingness. Townes is ready to receive winter. The rules, boundaries, assignments, structure—the harshness; it becomes him. Townes is back at home looking for things to do. He doesn’t really have any hobbies, passions, or genuine interests. Once he has vodka, all will be right in the world. He notices, immediately upon entering the kitchen, a palpable tension. Bella’s wiping things and Nora’s just put her pies in the oven. The girls are not speaking. Townes walks over to the fridge, Bella’s cheeks turn red when she sees him. The dynamic is different. Nora notices this. No one is speaking. “Hey, Townes,” Bella says softly. She hates herself. He ignores her, digs the knife in deeper. He wants to play a new game; how long will it take until he fucks Bella again? It ended badly the last time. She was crying, sobbing, begging. Don’t tell anyone. You really can’t tell anyone, Townes. You know that was a fucking mistake. We can’t do that again. I hate you. Fuck you. I really, really hate you. That part was better than the sex. “Hey,” says Nora. “Nora,” Townes begins. “We should continue our conversation from earlier. So, what you said is that babysitters that fuck the kids they used to babysit, are pedophiles. That is what you said, right?” “I just think it’s fucking weird and disgusting. And yeah, sort of pedophile-y,” Nora says. “Bella, how do you feel about it?” Townes asks. Bella’s hand squeezes the washcloth harder, her knuckles are turning white. “They’re obviously not fucking pedophiles,” Bella says. Townes smiles at her, “I agree.” She gets angrier, “It’s not like they’re kids anymore, Nora. Like, pedophile is a really serious fucking label. You can’t just call everyone a fucking pedophile.” “I know, it’s just like, really creepy, you know?” Nora says, unaware. “Are the pies all for you, Nora? How many did you make, like four? That should last you at least a day,” Townes says. “Would you like some pie, Townes?” Nora asks. “That’s an interesting question. Yes I would. But not yours.” “What does that even mean?” “Bella knows.” “I don’t know shit, Townes.” “You know a lot of things, Bella. I bet you have straight A’s. I know how difficult community college is,” says Townes. “Fuck you,” Bella says. “It’s literally the same classes at regular college, just cheaper.” Nora says, “Cheaper doesn’t mean bad, Townes. It doesn’t imply quality.” Townes is at a loss for words. Has Nora lost her fucking mind? That’s exactly what it implies. He is surrounded by delusional idiots. “Maybe, Nora, that’s because you have nothing to compare it to. You’re used to cheapness. Your life is cheap. What about you implies quality?” he asks, genuinely. Nora becomes flustered, her eyebrow twitches. “At least I’m happy most of the time!” she exclaims. Townes is confused. How could Nora possibly be happy? So he asks, “How?” “How? How what? How am I happy?” He nods his head. “Well, I have my mom. That’s a big reason why. I’m just happy I have her. I’m happy I have a mom who loves me. I’m happy I get to bake in a beautiful kitchen. I’m just, I don’t know. I find new reasons to be happy everyday.” Just when Townes thought he couldn’t hate Nora more, she says all of this bullshit. New reasons to be happy everyday, give me a fucking break. Townes has decided to personally raze her happiness into the depths of earth, so fucking deep, until it is so small and so out of grasp, she will never reach it again.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Townes is angry. He has nowhere to put all of this anger. He’s above punching holes in the walls or tearing apart his room, so it’s all just festering. Townes decides he needs to torture himself. Disgust can overcome anger, of this he is certain. Bella is sunbathing. She doesn’t have the same glow, she looks sad. Townes sits in the grass next to her, they don’t speak at first. Bella says, “I hate Nora.” Townes smiles. This is good, this is very good. Townes says, “I hate her more.” They both laugh, she leans her head on his shoulder. “Do you think I’m a pedophile, Townes?” she asks. “No.” “Do you think I’m creepy?” “No.” Townes collapses dramatically into the grass. “What’s wrong?” asks Bella, following him to the ground. “I’m upset,” he says, miserably. “Make me feel better.” Bella runs a hand through his hair, she stops smiling. “How?” she asks. Townes pulls the string on her bikini bottoms, she swats his hand away. “Not out here.” He smiles at her and asks, “Did you just swat my hand?” “Let’s go in there,” she whispers, pointing to the pool house. She didn’t waste any time, Bella was on her knees before Townes could think. He realizes, immediately upon his dick entering her mouth, he wasn’t drunk enough for this. He can feel everything; her tongue, the suction of her lips, the spit. He closes his eyes and tries to enjoy it, but he can’t. He never can. “Bella,” he says, pulling out of her mouth. “What’s wrong?” she asks, wiping the spit that’s run down her chin. His eye twitches. “Too much teeth,” he tells her. She stares at him, mortified, puffy lipped. “Really? I’m sorry,” she says, embarrassed. Townes tucks himself back into his pants. “You should be proud you’re not good at that,” he says. “It means you’re a good girl.” Townes is back in his room, depressed. After showering three times, he’s exhausted. If Dolly doesn’t text him about the vodka soon, he will hang himself in the closet. Townes is about to fall asleep until he hears his phone ring. “Hel—” “Hey, baby! It’s mommy!” He immediately sits up. His mother’s voice; he’s awake. “Mom?” he says. “I’m in Saint Tropez! It’s fucking beautiful! Oh god, please tell me not to buy a house here,” she yells into the speaker. She is completely and beautifully drunk. Townes is not unlike his mother in this way; tolerable when wasted. “Buy a house, mom,” he tells her. “Buy 50 if you want.” “You’re horrible, Benny,” she laughs. “You’re worse than me!” He cringes at the nickname, Townes is not used to being called anything other than Townes. “Listen, baby,” she starts. “I’m trying to be good. I’ll be home soon, okay? Are you being treated well? Have the staff been good to you?” He thinks of Bella. “They’ve been very good. Very tight. They run a tight ship.” She sighs contentedly. “Oh, good! Yay! Did you see your father’s new post about, what’s her name, Lace? They’re moving up the fucking wedding! Did he tell you? I’m sure he did. She’s literally twenty-five, Townes. Twenty-five.” “I’m going to start calling her mom. Is that okay?” “I would actually kill you,” she laughs. “You shouldn’t even be let around her. Anyway my baby, I have to go. I love you, Benny. Be good, okay? I’ll be home soon.” She hangs up, he sits with it. He thinks about it over and over and over. He sleeps perfectly.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Melissa is at the bookshop early. She loves it here, the calmness, the organization, the peace. She hates that with school starting tomorrow, her routine will be disrupted. James hasn’t been leaving her alone since the party. He’s obsessed. Melissa knows he’s going to visit her today while she works, and she’s going to let him. She wants Mike to know that she’s wanted, she wants him to see her desirability. Men don’t treat women they don’t find attractive with respect. They don’t even treat women they find attractive with respect. But when they know other men want you, you can get just about anything. You’re a Madonna. Melissa’s pretending to work. Her job is so easy, so vapid, she feels like a lobotomized housewife going through the motions of monotony. This is the dream. “Good morning,” Mike greets with a warm grin. Mike is very handsome, it’s a surprise that he’s not married. It’s a red flag. Melissa decides that there is something deeply wrong with Mike. “Hi, Mikey,” Melissa says. “I have a question.” “Uh-oh. That doesn’t sound good.” Melissa rolls her eyes. “Why aren’t you married?” she asks. “Jesus, Melissa,” he laughs. “It's 8am.” “Mike, why aren’t you married?” He thinks for a moment, takes a sip of coffee, adjusts his watch. “I guess, I don’t know. I guess I just haven’t met someone I’d like to marry, yet.” “What kind of person would you like to marry?” she asks. “Do you want someone who cooks and cleans? Irons your clothes? Packs you a little lunch? Kiss your cheek goodbye every morning?” He chuckles at this. “Maybe a part of me wants that. I’d want her to want to do that, though. I wouldn’t require it, you know? I would want to do things like that for her as well.” Melissa says, “I would be that kind of wife. I would want to dedicate myself to my husband. Him lifting a finger would be an insult to me. I feel like I was born to be a wife.” Mike swallows, clenches his jaw slightly, she watches his Adam’s apple bob under his skin. He says, “I didn’t know girls like that still existed. You know, with new wave feminism and gender abolition.” “This is feminism, though. Having that choice. I think when I get married it will be the happiest day of my life,” she smiles, as though she’s already picturing it. “So you’ve thought about this a lot, I’m assuming. Marriage, a husband, kids.” “No kids, Mikey. I’m not that kind of girl,” she assures. “Every girl your age says that,” he chuckles. “They always change their minds.” “Do you want kids?” she asks. “Yeah, of course,” Mike says. “A bunch of them. I’ve always wanted to be a father.” Melissa has always found it incredibly strange, the way men yearn and long for children. She hates that they can want things only women can provide. Across cultures, across time, this has gotten women killed and raped and tortured. How can they want something they can’t create? Women suffer and men cum. They always cum. Whether you’re screaming or crying or begging them to stop, men will always cum. Some will even cum harder. Men aren’t interested in children, they aren’t interested in being fathers. They want something to own, something that carries their DNA and blood. Their wives are torn and bleeding, shitting themselves during birth, the asshole and vagina ripped into one big gaping hole. That’s not fun to fuck. So they ask the doctor to make their wife’s pussy tight again, yeah, sew it up for me. I want her cunt to feel like a fucking teenager’s. What do you mean we have to wait until we fuck again? Well how long, doc? Weeks? You’re kidding me. And then they meet an 18 year old, tight as fuck, naive as fuck. His wife is at home breast feeding his child, sucking on the tit he used to suck on. The 18 year old falls in love, of course. He will not leave his wife for her like he promised when his dick was shoved down her throat. Husbands will never leave their wives for their mistresses. “Aw, you want kids.” Melissa smiles at Mike. “You would make the cutest babies.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Melissa watches James walk towards the store, she stops shelving books. James looks like a Ralph Lauren model, the pastels, he’s America’s sweetheart. He’s actually a really sweet boy, and he’s in love with Melissa, she appreciates that. “Hey,” he says, walking up to her. She looks around for Mike, he must be in the back room. “Hey,” she says. “School’s tomorrow,” he informs. “Yeah.” “So, we should talk.” “I tried to talk to you. You literally told me to shut the fuck up.” “What the fuck? No I didn’t. I just said we should wait until school.” “You really hurt my feelings.” “I know, Mel. I’m sorry. You broke up with me. I was just, like, hurt or whatever.” Melissa smiles. “You’re such a boy.” “You’re right, though. We should get back together.” She sees Mike walk out of the back room to go behind the counter, he’s watching, trying not to look like he’s watching, but he is. “I changed my mind,” Melissa tells him. “I need to be single. I had an epiphany.” “What epiphany? What the fuck are you talking about?” “I am literally god,” she smiles. James laughs. “Are you on something?” “No, ew. I’m just saying I need to focus on myself. We can still hang out, though. Obviously we can’t, like, fuck anymore.” James looks like he’s been punched in the stomach. His world, his beautiful little pastel world, crashing down. “Listen,” she says. “I like you, sometimes, but you don’t understand me. Can you picture marrying a girl like me? And you want, like, so many kids. It would never work.” “Fuck the kids, Melissa,” he exclaims. “I actually could picture myself marrying you. Deadass. Like, after we both graduate college. Obviously that would be what happens.” At this, her heart skips a beat. Melissa gets a bit dizzy and closes her eyes for a few seconds. Life with James wouldn’t be perfect, it would be boring and dull, but it would be easy. He would take care of her. He’s a really good guy. He loves her. He loves her in a way that doesn’t hurt. It’s pure. She wants love to hurt. She wants love to derange her, she would never have that with James. Perhaps we shouldn’t be picky about survival. Girls like Melissa shouldn’t bite the hand that feeds them. But her own hands are feeding herself now. She’s conflicted. “Let’s just wait,” she tells him. “Maybe, if you still want me in a few months, we can try again. Maybe, James. Maybe. Ew, I literally see your little smile. I’m not promising.” “Okay,” he says, hopefully. “Yeah. That’s dope. I’ll let you keep working. Bye, Mel.” He kisses her cheek and leaves smiling. She looks up to see Mike watching. She waits for it while she keeps shelving misogynistic books. So much fucking Bukowski. And waits and waits and waits. And finally, “Who was that?” “Oh, him? That’s James,” she says slyly. And because Mike can’t help himself, he asks, “Who’s James?” “He’s my ex-boyfriend. We dated for like, almost 3 years. I met him freshman year.” “Oh. You met at your school? Ah wait, where do you go again?” “Great Oak Academy.” “Oh, shit, yeah. I forgot you’re a private school kid. That’s sick.” “Yeah, I go for free. Well I don’t pay tuition. I had to buy my uniforms and other shit. It was this little program they did with my middle school. I think they felt bad for us because someone got stabbed during lunch. It was weird because it happened when we were learning about Julius Caesar,” Melissa says. “Stabbing is such a romantic way to die.” She knows Mike likes hearing that, given his reading material. “You think so? Why?” he asks, interested. Melissa bends down to pull out more books from the box on the ground, her dress is very short. She knows he’s looking. She stands up with the books, and turns around to face him. “Why wouldn’t stabbing be romantic?” Melissa asks. “You’re literally being penetrated.” Mike smiles and shakes his head. “That is a very good point I had not considered previously. Thank you for enlightening me.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Townes hasn’t heard back from Dolly since that day in the diner. She promises she’ll get him the bottle soon, but she’s just been so, so busy at work. Townes hasn’t felt alive in days. He wants someone to suffer the way he’s suffering. He finds Paul in the driveway, washing one of the cars. Townes mentally prepares himself to speak. “Paul,” he says. “Everything okay?” Paul replies, wiping his bumpy forehead with his hairy forearm. “I need you to let everyone on this property know that using the kitchen for fun is no longer allowed. If I see anyone baking apple pies, for example, I’m going to set myself on fire,” Townes says. “Why would you set yourself on fire?” Paul asks, concerned and confused. “That’s not the point,” Townes says. “I just need everyone to know. I’m going to sleep now.” “Should I be concerned that you’re going to harm yourself physically, Townes?” “You should be concerned with your face.” “What?” “Nothing, Paul. Goodnight.” “It’s 12 pm, Townes.” Townes stares at Paul with such hate, such pure disgust, Paul knows not to speak anymore. Townes wakes up to the sound of yelling. “What do you mean I can’t use the kitchen, mom?” Nora yells. “New rules,” Miss Agnello says. “What new rules,” Nora mimics with air quotes. “I don’t understand. It’s never been an issue before.” “It’s not a big deal, Nora. You can use the kitchen at home.” “It’s not the same and you know it.” “I don’t know what to tell you, baby. New rules.” Townes feels satisfied but not yet fulfilled. He took away one thing from her, why not something else? He thinks about this. What else makes Nora happy? She mentioned her mom. A lot. Townes isn’t sure that he can take her mother’s love away, but he can certainly try. Townes gets a text from Dolly a few hours later. He tells her to deliver the bottle to his house, he wants her to apologize for making him wait so long. When Dolly arrives, Townes feels physical anticipation to drink. When he closes his eyes for a second, he can even taste it. He let’s Dolly in without greeting her, as usual. She’s a good pet, she knows how to follow, she closes his bedroom door behind them. Townes looks at her expectantly. “Sorry it took so long,” she apologizes, sincerely. “That end of summer rush, ya know?” “I don’t know, actually.” “Townes, I’m real sorry. Here. The biggest bottle they had.” She unscrews the cap for him, handing him the bottle. She watches him take a sip, no chaser, she watches him relax as he swallows. Dolly didn’t know if the alcohol was releasing evil, or making it enter him. All she knows is that Townes looks beautiful when he drinks. She sits on the bed next to him, kicking her shoes off. “When does your school start?” she asks. “Tomorrow.” “We still have another week.” “You can leave now,” Townes says. Dolly doesn’t want to leave. “At least let me apologize properly,” she says. Townes smiles. “How?” She grabs the bottle from his hand and drinks. Townes doesn’t mind, he knows the vodka is killing her germs. Dolly knows when Townes is drunk, he smiles more, he’s at peace with himself, there’s a lightness about him, an ease. Dolly is a lightweight, she reaches his level shortly after. “I’m gonna miss you when school starts. A whole lot,” she slurs. “Will you miss me?” “No,” Townes says. They both laugh. “How many girls have you fucked, Townes?” Townes thinks. He actively tries to forget every sexual encounter he’s ever had. He doesn’t think it’s been a lot. Or maybe it has. Last summer was a blur. In fact, everything before his overdose is a blur. “I was a virgin when I met you, Dolly,” he says. She puts a hand to her mouth in shock. “No you weren’t! You liar.” “How would you know I’m lying?” “Because, like, if you were a virgin you’d last like, maybe five seconds,” she giggles. Townes doesn’t remember losing his virginity. He remembers that it was traumatic and claustrophobic and disgusting. He’s pretty sure he vomited. He thought he was gay. “How many guys have you fucked?” “Hm,” she thinks. “Not many. Four.” “Why’d you have to think about it?” “I couldn’t remember if I fucked Nick or just sucked his dick. It was just a blowjob, though.” “Interesting.” Townes is leaning on the headboard and Dolly decides to straddle him. She puts her hands on his chest and whispers, “I’m gonna apologize now.” With the condom rolled on, she sinks down on him, fully. Her body moves up and down, she leans down to kiss his neck. Townes grabs her hips, changing it from slow to fast, their chests pressed together, Dolly moaning into his neck, she begins to see stars. Townes wakes up on the floor next to the toilet. His skin is freezing from spending the night on the marble. He has two hours until school. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. He almost falls asleep in the shower, he savors the hot water thawing his body. He dries his hair with a towel, brushes his teeth, washes his face, puts on his school uniform, and prays this is all a nightmare. He feels like shit. Townes looks at himself in the mirror. He doesn’t look hungover, but he does have a hickey on his neck. “Fuck,” he mutters again. He takes a wet towel and tries to scrub it off. Hickeys do not get scrubbed off. He starts to panic. He feels disgusting, marked, claimed. He wants to die. The collar of the white button up covers it, thank god. Townes decides to not look at his neck for the next week, the hickey is too triggering. With 30 minutes left until he leaves, Townes walks downstairs. “Good morning!” sings Miss Agnello. “Here, sit. Eat.” Townes says nothing, he’s distraught. He feels like a large pus filled boil is starting to grow on his neck. His neck is probably covered in barnacles, secreting a smelly, yellow, thick liquid. His neck begins to rot, the skin blackening like old pork. He puts a hand to that spot on his neck and is relieved to find it smooth. He pulls out his phone and checks his neck with the front camera. Townes is happy that his neck is not decaying. “Taking selfies?” Miss Agnello huffs. “First day of school selfie. See ‘em all the time on Facebook. You on Facebook, Townes?” “No.” “Good. Keep it that way. Don’t want you to get sucked into one of those white supremacist groups. They’re all over Facebook.” “Okay.” “Well, you’re talkative this morning. Why aren’t you eating?” Townes looks at the pancakes. They’re perfect and fluffy. Soaked in butter and dripping with warm maple syrup, dusted in powdered sugar. But he can’t eat. He feels sick, from the vodka, from the hickey, from Miss Agnello’s lumpy body. When Paul walks in, Townes gags. “Ready?” Paul asks. Townes gets up and walks to the car with Paul. He lies in the back seat, using his backpack as a pillow. The morning mist and fog make everything sleepy. Paul tries to wake up Townes when they reach the school. “Hey, Townes. We’re here,” Paul says. “Townes? Townes!” “Jesus fucking Christ, Paul. I don’t think my fucking ears are going to recover from that.” Paul chuckles. “Listen, kiddo. Have a great day at school. I’ll be here at exactly 3 pm. If you need anything, shoot me a text. Well, that’s all. Have fun. Go learn some things.” Townes leaves the car in a silent fit of rage. Everything has been going wrong today. Everything. Townes wonders if Nora has done some sort of fat-girl witchcraft on him after his little power play. His hatred for her grows. Great Oak Academy is surrounded by acres of lush trees and old stone buildings. Green vines of ivy spread over the walls of the main academic building. ‘Welcome Back!’ signs and banners are placed throughout the front lawns. The shrubbery is perfectly maintained and full, flower beds blossom with a delicate assortment of white and purple and blue, the petals cupping the morning sunlight and dew. A warm breeze runs through Townes’ hair, calming him. He follows the new student orientation signs. The tall glass doors are left open, revealing a grand imperial staircase and deep oak walls. He sees a few students gathered together, figuring they’re like him, new. “Hi! You must be Townes!” He stares at the short red-head, reading her name tag. Rachel. Townes says, “Yeah.” “Awesome! You’re the last person I haven’t checked off yet. I’m going to be giving you all a tour of GOA before I drop everyone off at their first period classes,” she informs. She begins to walk and all the students follow. “So we’re in Thomas Hall right now. We all just call it main, most of your classes will be in this building. Upperclassmen lockers are on this floor, lowerclassmen lockers are on the floor below us. Down here is the dining hall.” Everyone looks in awe. The high, vaulted ceiling reflects the large arched windows, revealing sweeping views of the campus. “Breakfast, lunch, and dinner will all be served in here. There are vending machines in every building on campus as well as a small canteen in Milhous Hall.” Rachel continues her tour, Townes is barely listening. They’ve been walking so much, he needs to not be doing this right now. “And that’s everything! Do you guys have any questions?” The students ask things, Townes isn’t focused on anything but the dull pain in his forehead. He needs coffee, terribly. “Alrighty, guys! Looks like we’re the first group done. Normally during this time we all gather in the dining hall for the morning assembly. Basically the head master will go over any important announcements, sometimes teachers or staff will speak. Just depends on the day. So that’s where all of the returning students were at during our tour. I’m going to take you guys to your classes so just have your schedule pulled up for me so I know where we’re going.” Rachel drops each student off to their prospective classes, only Townes and some other boy remain. They’re headed to the same class; AP calculus. Townes is happy he has math first period. He knows he won’t have to interact with anyone, most math teachers are social rejects. “Okay, room 208. Enjoy class guys! If you guys ever see me in the hallway feel free to ask me for help, or whatever. It was nice meeting you both!” Townes walks into the room, he feels every eye on him, he’s too hungover to care. All of the students are sitting around an oval oak table. He sits in an empty seat facing the whiteboard. “Which one of you is Benedict and which one of you is Evan?” “I’m Evan.” “Okay, Evan. I have here that your pronouns are he/him. Is that correct?” “Yes.” “Alright. And any nicknames you’d like me to enter in the system?” “Nope.” “And Benedict. I don’t see that I have any pronouns entered for you in the system. What pronouns are you comfortable with?” Townes tries to think happy thoughts. Maybe waking up today, alive, breathing, was a monumental mistake. What the fuck is a pronoun? “He.” “He/him?” “Yes.” “Alright. And any nicknames? Oh. Wait. I see here. Townes, is it?” “Yes.” “That’s your last name too, correct?” “Yes.” “Let me just make a note of that. Okay. Great. Nice to meet you Townes and Evan,” the teacher says. “Now that everyone is here, I’ll introduce myself. My name is Patrick Brown. You can call me Mr. Brown or Mr. B. I’ll be your teacher for AP Calculus this year…” Townes zones out. He decides to look around the table, see what he’s dealing with. It’s a small class, no more than 10 students in the room. He knew AP Calc would be a smart move. They all look like nerds. This is good. Nerds like these don’t actively seek out social interaction. This will be chill as fuck, Townes thinks. Townes makes it through the rest of his morning classes. The icebreakers were horrible, enough to make one suicidal. He survived, just in time for lunch. Townes heads in the opposite direction of the dining hall, he isn’t going in there. Last period, Dolly sent a text that she left a present for him in the front pocket of his backpack. Townes wasn’t stupid enough to check during class, so he heads to a small shed-like building Rachel showed them earlier. “No one really ever comes in here,” she said. As to be expected, it’s empty. Townes heads to one of the small rooms and sits on a dated leather sofa. He unzips the front pocket, revealing a neatly rolled blunt and a lighter. Maybe Dolly isn’t so bad. Townes takes off his blazer and sets it on a coffee table in the front room, he doesn’t want it to smell like smoke. He sits back down and lights the blunt, inhaling deeply, immediately feeling better. He tries not to think of the expulsion he’ll face if he gets caught. He needs this.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Melissa never stays in the dining hall for the full lunch period. They get an hour and a half to eat, too much time to be spent with her friends. She heads to the small shed as she usually does during lunch, she enjoys the solitude. As she walks inside, she notices a blazer thrown on the coffee table in the front room, too big to be a girl’s. Melissa walks over to the room she always goes in and opens the door to a smoking boy. She watches him inhale the smoke through his nose while he stares down at his phone. He looks up then, noticing her briefly. He doesn’t speak, he just looks back at his phone. Melissa decides that he’s the most beautiful boy she’s ever seen. She traces him with her eyes, appreciating contours of his face. His hair is a deep brown, almost black, short on the sides, wavy on top. It’s bedroom hair. His skin is smooth and clear, much paler than her own. It was only for a second she got to see the impenetrable blackness of his eyes. She ached. She stops staring and takes a seat next to him on the sofa. Melissa says, “Hey.” “Hello,” the boy says. He hasn’t looked up again. This annoys Melissa. It offends her. She just spent at least 30 seconds nearly weeping over his beauty, and he can’t do the same for her? “What is that?” she asks, pointing at the blunt. The boy doesn’t respond. Instead he inhales once more, and passes her the blunt as he stands. He says nothing else before leaving the room. Melissa watches him leave, she leans back into the couch, and smokes. After she’s finished, she puts the roach in a half-empty plastic water bottle. She goes outside to air herself out, then douses herself in body spray and perfume. She can’t stop thinking about the boy. He sucked the life out of that small room, she felt like she hardly existed next to him. She felt like nothing. This is the first time she has ever blushed from such indifference, such disinterest. She doesn’t know what to do with her hands. Townes is high. Not super high, but still pretty high. He wonders if that’s to blame for what he’s just seen. It had been, simply put, absolute perfection. He blames the loud he just hit, he didn’t look at her long enough, the room was cloudy from all of the smoke. You’re high, you’re not fucking delusional. He admits to himself that she was the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. He pushes the girl out of his mind, and tries to finish the school day. All he wants to do is go home and sleep. Melissa is watching the boy from across the library, a few tables down. They have study hall last period together. Admittedly, she’s not getting much work done. “What are you staring at,” Jenna whispers. Melissa doesn’t want to share this with her, or anyone, it feels sacrilegious. She doesn’t feel like anyone else is worthy to look at him. She feels the same possessiveness over him that she feels for her material objects. Beautiful things, she believes, should be locked away. Hidden. Secret, only shared between those of equal beauty. “Nothing,” Melissa whispers back. “Oh, I wanted to ask what you’ve been doing to gain weight? I’ve been trying to gain a few pounds. For my ass.” Melissa isn’t trying to gain weight, she just knows that Jenna has a raging eating disorder and that the smell of her purging lunch is lingering on her uniform. Even the gum Jenna’s chewing can’t mask it. “What do you mean?” Jenna asks, panicked. “Do I look like I’ve been gaining weight?” “Oh, no, of course not. Maybe it’s just the uniform,” Melissa says. “Oh my fucking god. Wait. Be honest, Mel. Do I look fatter?” Jenna looks like she’s on the brink of tears. “Well, like, doesn’t everyone gain a little weight during summer?” Melissa asks. Jenna’s eyes water as she says, “I need to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” Melissa looks back at the boy to find him already looking at her.

Chapter Thirty

Classes have been shortened today to accommodate a school-wide orientation in the front lawn. Apparently there’s some sort of ice-cream social they put on every year for students to mix and mingle. Townes has to leave. It is torture, absolute torture, having to be awake right now. But he can’t complain about his current view. Townes has no interest in talking to the girl, but she’s nice to look at. If watching each other is some form of communication, it is his favorite; otherworldly. Wordless. He wonders if they’re sharing the same fantasies. Townes feels neurotic. She looks good, but there’s something off about her. That was something Townes has heard people say about him often, how off putting he is. He is swirling outside of himself, a certain heat spreads throughout him. Townes notices the study hall proctor reading a book, so he decides to get up from his seat. He’s starving and he can feel his socks in his loafers and every molecule of fabric in his clothing. He’s dying. He remembers the tour guide saying that every building has a vending machine. When he spots one, he sees heaven’s divine light shine upon it. This isn’t a normal vending machine, everything inside is organic. He decides that vegan fruit snacks will be the easiest option. They aren’t messy. He pulls out a hundred dollar bill, and feeds it to the machine. He watches the machine push the bill back out. He puts it back in. The bill comes back out. He squints his eyes. He puts the bill in a different direction. It comes back out. His eye twitches. He decides to write the interaction with this vending machine in his suicide note. “It doesn’t take hundreds.” Townes turns around to see the girl. Is this another obstacle he must surmount today? “What?” he asks, irritated. The girls smiles, horrifying and warm. He aches. She walks over to the machine and grabs the bill, handing it back to him. “You need to use something smaller.” Townes smiles. “How small?” “Like, twenty.” Fuck my life. “Okay. I’ll starve,” he says walking away. He vows to never use another vending machine in his life. This was too much for him to handle, the disrespect. He feels the girl walk up behind him, he wants her to go away. “I have a snack in my bag if you want it,” she says. “What kind of snack?” he asks. She grabs his arm to stop him from walking, “Stay here.” He watches her go back inside the library, appreciating the shortness of her plaid skirt, her long hair bouncing as she walks. When she comes back out, he aches again. “Here,” she says, grabbing his wrist. Townes studies what she’s just given him. Powdered donuts. Is she stupid? He hands the donuts back to her. “I can’t eat that,” he says. She smiles slightly. “Why? They’re so yummy.” “They’re messy.” “So, you don’t want them?” “No.” “But why?” “Because they’re messy.” “Oh. But they’re so yummy.” He wants to ask if she’s retarded. Townes realizes that there is something deeply wrong with this girl. She says, “Hold out your hand.” So he does, and she gives the donuts back to him. Townes says, “I’m throwing these away.” He starts walking to the nearest trash can. The girl runs up to him and snatches the donuts back. “You can’t waste food.” “That shit’s not even food.” “You’re literally starving. Stop being picky.” “I’m not eating your disgusting donuts.” “They aren’t disgusting,” she smiles. Townes likes her dimples, they offset the horrible words leaving her mouth. He wants to tell her that she’s better than powdered donuts, but he doesn’t know her. Maybe she’s exactly the type of girl who enjoys powdered donuts. “Why did you make your friend cry?” he asks. “I didn’t,” she says smiling. “Okay,” he says. Townes thinks she’s a freak. “Do you want to go to the canteen?” she asks. “Where is it?” “I’ll take you.” Townes doesn’t feel like it’s necessary for her to escort him to places. He’s perfectly capable of finding it on his own. Before he can tell her that, she grabs his hand and pulls him into a run. Townes doesn’t enjoy running, he’s also incredibly confused. He isn’t repulsed by her touch, but that doesn’t mean he likes it. “It’s right here,” she breathes. She lets go of his hand slowly, he watches this. He enters the canteen without saying anything. The person behind the counter greets them hello. The girl whispers to him, “What do you want?” Townes ignores her. He goes up to the man behind the counter. “Do you accept hundreds?” Townes asks. The man chokes a little on his smoothie. Pathetic. “Uh, let me check the cash box for you. One second.” “Why do you only have hundreds,” the girl asks. “Why are you here?” She laughs. “I’m helping you.” The man behind the counter says, “Yeah I have enough. What can I get for you?” Townes says, “Coffee.” He hands the man the bill. “Oh, hey Mel. Didn’t see you there.” “Hey,” the girl says. “Make his coffee extra good for him. He needs it.” Townes asks, “Your name is Mel?” “Melissa.” She stares at him for a second. He’s burning under the intensity of her gaze. “What’s your name?” “Townes.” The man walks back over with a steaming cup, clicking a lid on top of it.“Here’s your coffee and change. There’s cream and sugar over there if you want it.” Townes and Melissa walk out of the canteen together. The coffee is watery and tastes like dirt but it’s hot. He feels slightly better. Melissa’s studying her nails as they walk in silence. He doesn’t know why. Her nails look perfect. Melissa says, “Study hall is almost over.” “Okay.” “We get ice-cream soon,” she says smiling, looking up at him. “Interesting.” Townes wants her to go away. He doesn’t understand why she’s still here. “Are you a day student or do you board?” she asks. “Day.” “Me too.” He needs to put a stop to this. Small talk causes him physical harm, he feels a headache forming. He ignores her, walks into the library, and sits back down on his seat. He still has an hour until Paul gets here. He drinks his coffee.

Chapter Thirty-One

Townes is beautiful. She hates that he didn’t eat her donuts. She hates that he ignored her so many times. She feels like she’s burning. The study hall proctor clears her throat after about 15 minutes and taps a small microphone sitting on top of a dusty book pile. “Alright, everyone. You can begin to pack your bags and make your way to Main’s lawn for the ice-cream social. There will be an ice-cream bar with different toppings, games, hamburgers, hotdogs. Attendance is required for all students, don’t forget to sign your name at the check-in booth. I’ll see you all out there!” Melissa begins to pack her bag, Jenna hasn’t returned from the bathroom, she doesn’t care. She gathers her things and leaves the library. She’s fed up with people and wants ice-cream. A few students are already standing in line waiting to be served. Townes is a freak, she thinks. A disturbed, beautiful freak. “Strawberry, vanilla, or chocolate?” a girl asks Melissa, holding an ice-cream scoop in her hand. Melissa wonders why the school has such hideous students. She thought they would be more attractive. How sad it is to have so much money, yet still be so ugly. Melissa asks, “What’s your favorite?” “I like chocolate or vanilla the best.” “I’ll have strawberry,” Melissa says. She can’t trust the taste of someone that reptilian looking. With the cup in hand, Melissa finds a little bench to sit on, she lets the sun melt her ice-cream. It’s absolute homemade perfection. Sweet and creamy. She watches Emily walk towards her and feels a deep rage, everything starts to tastes bitter. “Hey,” Emily says, sitting next to her. “Your ice-cream is melting. Where’s Jenna?” “I don’t know,” Melissa says. “Holy shit, Mel. You know that guy I tried showing you at that party a few weeks ago? Did you know he literally goes to our school? I saw him in the hallway. I was like, what the fuck. Then I was like, what the fuck.” Melissa stares at her mortified. She prays it’s someone different, she prays it’s not Townes. “He’s hot as fuck, Mel. I swear,” Emily continues. “I’m gonna invite him to my party.” Emily throws a back to school party at her house on the first Friday of every school year. It is not a sophisticated affair; Melissa watched Emily snort coke off of a micro penis. To this day she shivers at the memory. So much hair, yet so little penis. Melissa asks, “Do you know his name?” “No,” she says. “I heard a few people talk about him, though. He’s a senior.” “Do you know anything else?” “Not really. Well, not yet,” she winks. As if Emily has a chance with him. Melissa laughs. “Do you know what you’re wearing on Friday?” Melissa asks. “We should go shopping,” Emily suggests. Melissa works everyday after school, she has no time. “I’m working,” Melissa says. “Yeah, I don’t get that. What’s the point? Just ask your parents for money.” Melissa’s never said that she's poor, and she’s never said that she’s rich. Everyone just sort of assumed she had money. James is the only one who knows the truth, not the entire truth, but enough of it. “I want my own money,” she says. “I love it there.” “Can I visit you at work?” Melissa says, “Sure. You can flirt with my boss.” “I need to practice my flirting skills,” says Emily. “Practice with me,” Melissa tells her. “No, I need to practice with a random boy. I need to be ready for him.” “Who?” “The hot boy, Mel. I told you. I’m like, in love or something.” Melissa thinks, if he’s not interested in me there’s no way he would be interested in you. That thought calms her. Townes signs his name at the check-in booth. Let it be known on this godforsaken day that Benedict Townes was at the fucking ice-cream social. Normally to get through the school day he would crush and snort a line of adderall in the bathroom. Now, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He doesn’t want to make friends, he doesn’t want to mix and mingle, he wants to get slightly drunk and fall asleep. Townes debates if he should start believing in god. Perhaps religion could give his empty life some sort of purpose. Perhaps catholicism? He decides against that idea, he can’t feel guilt. He sits on a bench behind a large oak tree away from everyone else. Some students are still running around in front of him, laughing and screaming. Jumping around like they have a single fucking clue. The sound of happiness is grating his patience. There is an almost painfully sharp contrast between the life swarming around him and the vast nothingness he feels inside. Townes wonders if this is how he’ll continue on for the rest of his life, forever an unburied corpse. Melissa sees him before he sees her. He’s sitting on a bench, looking down at his phone, she wants to know who he’s texting. She watches him run a hand through his hair, which is much like the leaves of the tree he sits under, restless. This must be what a crush feels like. Melissa wouldn’t know, she’s never had a crush. Don’t crushes take longer than a day? But perhaps it’s not a crush, but something else entirely. Perhaps something worse. Much of the sentimentality in which we derive from crushes is the innocence, the loveliness, a certain glitter we feel. She doesn’t feel any of that. It is an edge of something violent and tender. Melissa walks up to Townes and sits next to him. “Yes, Melissa?” Townes says. She smiles at the sound of her name leaving his lips. It feels erotic. It feels like an accomplishment. She doesn’t want to carry on with small talk about this and that. He already looks painfully bored. “My friend has a crush on you,” she tells him “The one you made cry?” “No, my other friend.” Townes smiles. “Are you talking about yourself?” “I do have a crush on you. But so does my friend,” she admits. “You have a crush on me?” he asks. “I think so,” she says. “That was fast.” “You should come to this party on Friday.” “I feel like I shouldn’t.” Melissa laughs. Townes wants to know if she actually has a crush on him. What’s there to have a crush on? They’ve hardly spoken at all. He doesn’t know whether Melissa is incredibly pathetic, or if she’s fucking with him. Or maybe she’s just a slut. Melissa has been around a lot of rich boys, she knows they can’t say no to coke. Cocaine is a rich boy’s Achilles heel. But she wants him to come because he wants to come, not because she bribed him. She wants him to go for her. “Are you going to make me beg?” she asks. Townes smiles. He does find her beautiful. Beautiful and annoying. “Beg someone else,” he says. Melissa doesn’t understand his problem. Who makes a girl try this hard? Especially her. She feels insulted. So be it, she decides to fuck with him. “Sorry,” she begins. “I didn’t know that you’re gay. We can still be friends. Gossip about boys and stuff.” Townes laughs. “What the fuck are you talking about?” “Are you not gay?” she asks. He smiles at her and asks, “Are you gay?” “I asked you first,” she says. He keeps smiling. “I asked you second.” She rolls her eyes. Her crush is fading drastically. “I’m not gay, Melissa,” he says. “I think you have brain damage.” “You have brain damage.” “Stop copying me.” “You started it.” “You’re a child.” “I just want the boy I have a crush on to go to a party with me,” she says. “That’s cute,” he says, going back on his phone. She asks, “Who are you texting?” Townes laughs again. “You definitely have brain damage. How have you made it this far in life?” He already knows the answer, just look at her. Girls like her get everything they want. Usually. Except for this, he’s not going to the party. “Crushes are brain damage, Townes.” She looks down at her own phone. “I have to go.” “Okay.” “Do you want me to bring you a snack tomorrow?” “No.” She smiles at him. “Okay, bye.” Townes loosens the grip he has on his phone.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Last night, Townes got drunk. Very drunk. He’s pretty sure he blacked out. Miss Agnello had to wake him up from the kitchen floor this morning. He doesn’t remember how or why he was in the kitchen. It’s Friday, Townes wanted to celebrate getting through a week of school. He hasn’t been staying in the library for study hall, he discovered it was a free period for seniors, he was allowed to be anywhere on campus. He has successfully avoided Melissa. Townes doesn’t miss talking to her, but he does miss looking at her. She’s better when she doesn’t speak. He knows the party is tonight, he’s certain he’d rather not go. A strange looking girl invited him. He fears that he’ll be out of alcohol soon, so maybe he should go. He could get drunk tonight, be normal for once. This shower is helping him think, it’s been an hour so far. It’s been an easy week, if he shows up to the party drunk, it will be fine. He hopes it will be fine. Melissa feels sad. She can’t help but feel like Townes is avoiding her. She refuses to humiliate herself any longer for him. He’s probably just gay or an incel. Or a gay incel. There’s no way it has anything to do with her. On the days Melissa isn’t home, she usually stays with Snat. She likes him. He’s the sweetest drug dealer she’s ever met, and he has his own house that isn’t completely disgusting. They only fuck, like, sometimes. She guesses that’s how she pays rent. In her moments of weakness, she envisions herself getting back together with James, her independence is weakening. Maybe she’ll tell him that when he picks her up for school in a few minutes. “Hey,” James says. “Here.” He hands her an açaí bowl. “You’re so cute,” she says, kissing his cheek. They ride to school in silence, she’s eating, scrolling on her phone, this is her peaceful time. James knows not to bother her. In the school parking lot, she sees Townes get out of the back seat of a black car. It’s not surprising he has a driver, but it does make her want him more. “James,” she says, pointing at Townes' car. “What kind of car is that?” “It’s a Phantom.” “I don’t know what that is. Is it expensive?” “Expensive as fuck.” She hops out of James’ car, they say their goodbyes. Melissa suffers through her classes. She’s gone to the shed everyday during lunch, wanting to see him, but he’s never there. During study hall, she plans to find Townes. She’s on her way to the library when she spots Jenna. “Oh my god, Jenna,” Melissa says. “What?” Jenna asks in panic. “You look so good. Like so fucking skinny. Like almost too skinny.” “Wait, seriously?” Jenna asks. “Like, concerning skinny?” “Yeah. I’m actually concerned. Are you eating enough?” Melissa asks, knowing this is what every anorexic, bulimic bitch wants to hear. She watches a light return to Jenna’s eyes, she watches her try to fight the smiles that’s spread across her face. “I’ve just been, like, on a weight loss journey.” “You look hot as fuck.” “Thank you,” Jenna smiles. They sit together at the table. She looks around, he’s not here. Melissa whispers, “I’ll be back later.” Townes has found a spot. The library has three levels, he’s currently on the bottom floor. All of the walls are stone, a thin layer of dust covers the rows and piles of books stacked haphazardly on the floor. He has come to peace with the cobwebs and spiders. There’s one other student, they don’t exist to each other. Townes sits in a beanbag and goes on his phone, there’s not much studying to be done the first week back. The blanket of quiet is disrupted by footsteps descending the staircase. He notices her legs first. He smiles, he can’t help himself. She walks up to him and bends down, whispering, “I found you.” “Hello.” “Hi, Townes.” He likes the way she says his name. She should leave it at that, speaking ruins her. “Can I sit next to you?” He doesn’t know what the point of her asking was, she’s already sinking down next to him, their thighs pressed together. He watches her lean back and close her eyes. She’s better like this. “Are you coming tonight?” “Maybe.” He watches her lips spread into a smile, he looks away. Sometimes it hurts to look at her. “Do you want to go together?” she asks. “Why would I want to go with you?” She smiles wider. “You can pick me up.” “Can I?” “You can even pick what I wear tonight.” Townes is gripping his phone so tight his knuckles are white. He’s getting the same feeling as when he drinks wine. She’s demonic. Melissa hands him her phone. “Give me your number. I’ll text you my address.” Of course he does as he’s told. He hands her phone back and stands. This time he’s the one bending down and whispering, “Wear something tight and short.” Townes doesn’t give a fuck what she wears, he just wants to see if she’ll listen. Melissa spends forever getting ready. She wants to be perfect for him. A crush would be less oppressive than this. She blows on her lashes, waiting for the glue to get tacky. She places them perfectly with her little tweezers. She applies gloss. She has a bag of coke between her tits. Melissa fucked Snat for it yesterday. She brushes her hair slowly, she imagines that she's a deep sea siren. Tonight, she is hungry. Townes should be here soon. He’ll be happy to see her, she thinks. She’s chosen the tightest, shortest, sluttiest thing she owns. Baby pink and indecent. Snat knocks before coming into her room, she lets him. The door is never locked. “Damn, Mel,” he says loudly. “I see you.” She stands up and rolls her eyes smiling. “Help me put on my shoes,” she tells him. So he does, kneeling before her as she sits on the bed. “You do be lookin’ good, Mel. Forreal.” “You’re sweet. Do I look slutty?” “Hell nah. You always be lookin’ classy. Classy as fuck.” She laughs. “You’re so fucking dumb.” “Who’s pickin’ yo ass up.” “My crush,” she says. “You got a crush? You tryin’ to introduce me?” “No,” she says. “He’s mine.” “Oh, so it’s serious.” He laughs. She pats his cheek playfully. “He’s here. I gotta go.” “Bye, Smelly. Y’all be safe.” “Bye, Snatty!” Melissa runs down the stairs, holding her tits so they don’t fall out of her dress. She should’ve taken a few shots before seeing him. Melissa stops herself short, she doesn’t know how this works. Does she just get in the back? Does she greet the driver? She sees a man get out of the driver’s seat and walk over to the side, opening the door. She points at herself and mouths, “For me?” He nods his ugly head. She slides in the back, it smells like leather and vodka. It smells like him. “Hey,” she says. He smiles, he looks different. Relaxed. His eyelids are low, his hair is tousled. He looks beautiful. He says, “You listened.” She knows immediately that he’s drunk. She pushes all of her hair to her back and leans back on her palms to show him her outfit properly, slightly spreading her legs, not enough to see anything. “Do you like it?” She feels like she could live or die from his answers alone. He says, “Yes.” She slides next to him. “It's not fair you're drunk and I’m not.” Townes hands her a plastic water bottle. She takes a sip, he smiles at the face she makes. She takes a few more. Melissa doesn’t like being around drunk men, but Townes seems fine. He smiles a lot more, he glances down at her lips often, he’s looked over her entire body. Townes thinks she looks perfect. Something took their time in making her, whether it be god or the devil, angels must have wept. Melissa doesn’t want to fuck him yet, she wants him to decide when it happens. It is not a long car ride to Emily’s, they hear the music before they see the house. “Alright, kiddos. Have fun. Text me when you’re ready, Townes.” “Bye, Paul,” Melissa says. She talked to the man a bit during the drive, simply to anger Townes. He hated watching her talk to him. Townes doesn’t have to prepare himself to go inside, he’s too drunk to care. He knows he’ll regret this in the morning. Melissa grabs his hand and moves them through a sea of bodies, the air is sour and warm. She brings him to an upstairs bathroom. Everything vibrates with heavy rap music. She knocks on the door as Townes leans on the staircase railing. “Can you open the fucking door?” Melissa says loudly, her knocks getting increasingly more aggressive. A short girl walks out. Melissa grabs Townes and pulls him inside. She sits on the sink, Townes leans on the wall. They watch each other until something sweet and evil grows between them. She leans back on the mirror, spreading her legs slightly. “You haven’t complimented me.” Townes walks to stand between her legs, she leans back further. “I want to fuck you,” he says against her neck. She’s melting. “You can,” she breathes. “Lift up my dress.” “No.” “You can fuck me, Townes.” He smiles. “Say please.” She runs a hand down his sweatshirt to his pants, she begins to stroke him through the material. She says, “Text Paul. We can leave.” She likes knowing there’s someone on demand, waiting for his next command like a dog. He takes his phone out and unlocks it, placing it in her hand. “You can text him.” So she does with one hand, he kisses her neck. She pushes him away. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.” In her drunken state, Melissa knows only two things: she needs to find Emily and she’s very wet. She asks around, everyone says something different. She checks her bedroom last. Melissa opens the door to Emily and some guy half naked, their thin lips sucking and slurping and smacking. Melissa stumbles over to them. “Emily,” she slurs. “What the fuck, Mel.” Melissa reaches in between her tits to get the bag of coke, placing it in Emily’s hand. “Oh. I fucking love you.” Melissa’s eye twitches at that. She says, “Use a condom. Your baby would look a fucking rodent.” She goes back to the bathroom to get Townes. He’s sitting on a towel he’s placed over the sink. She smiles at him. He says, “Paul’s here.” It’s like hearing wedding bells. They walk down the street to the car hand-in-hand. She wonders if he’s embarrassed for Paul to see them together like this. She swings their arms playfully, he pulls her hair, she pokes his rib, he pulls her hair harder, she covers his cheek in a frenzy of kisses. They slide in the back seat, no one acknowledges Paul. Townes takes a sip from the plastic bottle, he tells Melissa to open her mouth, she does. He pours the rest of the vodka down her throat, some runs down her chin. He gathers it on his finger, she licks it off of him. He throws the empty bottle on the floor, he kisses along her jaw, she sighs. He tastes vodka on her lips, the kiss deepens. Candy and vodka. It’s not long before it’s sloppy, Melissa’s legs are around his waist, her dress has risen up her ass. Townes tries to pull it back down with both of his hands, he doesn’t want Paul to see her. But then she starts rubbing herself on him, he grabs her ass to move her harder against him. When she moans, Paul looks up, watching through the rear view mirror. Townes rolls up the partition. “Melissa,” he says. “Yes?” She takes her hand and wipes the gloss from his mouth. “You looked so pretty,” she says smiling. “Thank you,” he replies. “Do you still have a crush on me?” “Yeah,” she answers. “The biggest crush.” “We literally met four days ago.” “You’re like me,” she says. “And I love myself.” “You think I’m like you?” He smiles at her innocence. “You’re evil,” she says against his lips. “Remember when you tried to hide from me?” He smiles. “I remember.” Melissa doesn’t comment on his house or anything really, she just grabs his hand and runs. “I don’t know where to go,” she laughs. They stumble together through the lawn, inhaling stars, the faded summer night leaves them behind. He leads her up the stairs to his room, her silence disturbs him. Once it was all he wanted, now he needs to hear her voice. After he closes them inside, he sits on the side of his bed. Melissa stays by the door. He doesn’t know what she’s waiting for. She walks around his room, there’s not much to see. Townes has no art and no photos. “You’re evil, Townes,” she says. She walks over to him. “If I give you a picture of myself will you put it on your wall?” “Bad energy,” he says. She kisses his cheek. She walks over to his dresser, opening the top drawer. She closes it and opens the second. She takes out one of his t-shirts and stands in front of Townes again. She turns around and pulls her dress off. He watches her unhook her bra, drop it to the floor, and put the t-shirt on. She turns back around to face him and pulls her thong down her legs, stepping out of it, they watch each other. Melissa goes into the bathroom. Townes hears her in there, he’s drunk and tired, he takes off everything but his boxers, lying down in bed. He notices that she’s not wearing any makeup when she comes back in the room. She lies next to him in bed. Townes and Melissa don’t fuck. What happened was much more intimate, they slept comfortably, fading into each other. A radical closeness, the shape of bodies, a returning state of innocence that had been lost for them both. It horrified him. He knows he’s drunk, and in the morning he will have to scrub her off of him, but for now her head is resting on his chest, it is the best night of summer. The room glows pink.

Chapter Thirty-Three

The bed is empty when Townes wakes up. He hears someone in his shower, he knows it’s Melissa. He’s not sure what to do, if he knocks, or if he can just walk in. Townes decides to wait until she’s finished, then she needs to leave. Melissa walks into the room a few minutes later, she has a towel wrapped around her body and one on top of her head. She notices him, but doesn’t speak. She goes into his closet, he can’t see what she’s doing. “I have to go to work,” she says from the door. “Give me something to wear.” Townes wonders why she’s making demands, why she still looks as good as did last night even though he’s not drunk. “You work?” he asks, confused. What teenager goes to work? “I work at a bookstore.” “Why?” “I have no money,” she smiles. Townes doesn’t understand. How could Melissa be poor? Perhaps her parents cut her off. “Did your parents cut you off?” She laughs coldly. “Where are your parents, Townes?” He squints at her. “Just you and Paul? That’s cute.” “Yeah, just us.” “Your parents don’t love you. You’re alone in a huge house. Your life is as sad as mine.” “It’s not that sad.” “They probably hate you.” “I know.” She grabs another t-shirt from his drawer, he watches it fall mid thigh. Melissa looks like she’s about to cry. He doesn’t understand anything. She puts on his sweatpants, rolls the waistband a few times so they don’t fall. “You don’t get to make me feel like shit,” she says. “What the fuck are you talking about?” Townes laughs at her. She’s clearly insane. “Don’t laugh at me,” she tells him. “Or what?” “I’ll come back later to get my stuff.” “You don’t need to come back,” he tells her. “I’ll give it to you at school.” She stares at him. Townes says, “Or maybe I’ll just throw everything away. None of it is worth anything.” She laughs. “Okay, throw it away. I don’t care. Paul’s taking me to work.” “No he’s not.” “He is because I asked him when you were sleeping and he said yes.” Townes feels homicidal. He hates her. He doesn’t know why, but he hates her. “And after work, he’s bringing me back here so I can get my things.” Townes runs a hand through his hair. He can’t believe he’s let an insane person into his home. He tries not to make too much eye contact with her, in fear she’ll become feral and bite him. “Do you bite, or are you well trained?” She throws a towel at him, and walks over to the door. “I’ll see you later.” Townes thinks to himself, what the fuck? Townes gets drunk waiting for Paul to return. Usually alcohol calms him, but nothing changes. He’s just angry and drunk. And Melissa. He has a few plans for her. When he hears Paul return, he fumbles with his sunglasses and heads downstairs. “Hey, Townes,” Paul greets. “Who the fuck do you work for?” “Excuse me?” Paul says like an idiot. “You’re going to start driving around everyone who fucking asks?” “Is this about Melissa?” “Who’s Melissa?” says Nora, walking out of the living room. “Don’t ask about her,” Townes says defensively. “Why the fuck are you even here?” “Townes—,” Paul starts. “Who the fuck do you work for, Paul.” “The girl just needed a ride. That’s all. Took all of 20 minutes.” “Nora,” Townes says. “Who does Paul work for?” Nora doesn’t speak. If Townes decides they both need to be gone, they will be gone. “What’s all this yelling about,” Miss Agnello says, wiping flour off of her face. “What’s the issue, Townes?” “The issue,” he says. “Is that no one in this house knows their fucking place. You’re all way too comfortable.” “Don’t talk about knowing places,” she says. “You should sleep it off. You’re drunk. I’m sure your parents will be thrilled to hear about this.” “Yeah? You should worry about your daughter.” “Excuse me?” “Nora, don’t you binge every night because you hate your mom?” he asks. “Isn’t that what you told me?” “No!” Nora says. “No! Of course I never said that!” “You did, though.” “Mom, I promise I never said that.” Miss Agnello looks torn, she wants to believe her daughter, but she also never knew the reason why she’s binged all these years. Could this be why? Does her daughter hate her? Nora has been acting differently lately. Townes doesn’t give a shit about the outcome between Miss Agnello and her daughter, he just goes upstairs and let’s them figure things out. Townes feels unbalanced. Melissa has done something terrible to him. Everything is out of control and she’s to blame.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Melissa absorbs the calming energy of the book store. She looks like shit. It feels like a walk of shame when she goes over to Mike. “Sorry,” she says. “I know I look bad, Mikey. I look terrible.” “You could never— I mean you look fine,” Mike says. “New style you’re trying out?” She looks at Mike’s sweet, handsome face, and decides to throw him a bone. “I had to get ready in a rush,” she says. “I forgot to put on panties.” She watches Mike’s hand twitch, he clenches his jaw a lot when he’s nervous. “Oh,” he says, chuckling, running a hand over his beard. “Happens to the best of us.” Melissa starts her usual duties, which usually include pretending to work. But today, she will be good for Mike. She organizes the book shelves, wipes the counters, fills up jars with coffee beans. Mostly, she just thinks about Townes. She wants to know what he’s doing, she wants to be near him. He’s haunting her. Melissa felt insulted that he didn’t try to fuck her. He probably thinks he’s too good for her, but she thought that he liked her. If a boy likes you, that’s how they prove it, by trying to fuck you. She was angry earlier. After being around the books, she feels that anger slip away. Mike is a good guy. A very good guy. He’s simple, doesn’t want for much, takes pleasure in the little things. He’s content with the mundane, the simpleness that comes with being completely average and underwhelming. So what if his shop doesn’t do great? It’s just something to do, a way to pass time. When his father died, Mike was set for life. He rarely spends any money on things, he’s a simple guy. He enjoys a good novel, hikes, indie films, and coffee. Oh, coffee. Nothing has stirred such adoration, such infatuation. It’s his passion, his one joy in life. Discovering new beans, different brewing methods, exploring various combinations of flavor. Melissa is coffee. Piping hot and addicting. She’s jailbait. Mike won’t try anything, of course, because he’s a good guy. He can’t count the number of times he’s gotten hard at work because of her. At night, when he goes home to his tastefully curated, mid-century modern bachelor pad, he imagines his hand is Melissa’s pussy. He fucks his oiled palm to the thought of her; her eyes, legs, dimples, ass, long hair, her sweet scent. He likes her Valley-girl voice. He wants her underneath him, squirming, filling her with his seed; his homemade, all organic, white coffee beans if you will. He imagines covering every inch of her body with his thick, hot cum. Of course he’ll never actually do any of this, he’s a good guy. She’s too young. Sometimes a ghostly voice in his head tells him, “Too young… for now…” He’s thought about it. Melissa will be 18 in November, he could wait. And he knows she wants it, the way she parades her tight little body around for him to see. His cock twitches at the thought of her bending over to pick up books, his books. He wants to fuck her against his Bukowski and Freud book shelf. She needs a real man, not some acne-ridden little boy. She needs someone who can throw her around and really fill up her tight, pink holes. Well, he assumes they're pink. Like a fresh rose. He’s thinking of raising her salary, just for how often he uses the thought of her to cum, she deserves it. Other times his fantasies are sweeter, more wholesome. He imagines her belly growing with his child, giving birth, and putting another baby inside of her shortly after. Most of all, he wants to take her away from other men forever. Isn’t that what she wants? To serve her man? He knows girls like her don’t stay single long, he knows she wants him, the way she teases and flirts. When she told him earlier that she wasn’t wearing any panties he went into his office and emptied his load into an old coffee cup. Melissa’s things are scattered on Townes’ floor. The sight of her dress causes his eye to twitch. He gathers everything she left, a bra, a dress, a thong, a tube of lipgloss. He walks to the garage and throws everything away in the trash bin. Townes feels much better after. He’s on a rampage now, he figures he should take out some more trash. He finds Nora watching TV in the living room. She looks like she’s been crying. Her round face is swollen and blotchy, her eyes irritated and puffy. Truly a pathetic sight to see. “What, Townes?” she sniffs. “Did I do something? I don’t understand why you’re so mad at me.” “I’m going to have your mom fired,” he says. “No! Townes, please. No. Just tell me what I did?” Nora starts crying again. This does not move Townes in any way, in fact, it just strengthens his resolve. “I want her gone because her daughter is fat and annoying and never shuts the fuck up.” “Then I’ll stay in the other house, you don’t have to fire her,” she begs. “I won’t come to the main house anymore.” The thought of Nora being gone doesn’t make him happy. He likes having something to torture. He likes how she takes it, it’s admirable. He pretends to think about it, as if she has any genuine sway over his decisions. “I want you to apologize to me,” he says finally. Nora looks confused, like she doesn’t have a single clue what she should be apologizing for. “I’m sorry, Townes,” she says in a small voice. “For what?” he asks. “I’m sorry for whatever I did to upset you.” “That’s not a real apology.” He wants Nora to humiliate herself for him. “You can do better.” “I’m sorry for being annoying,” she says. “What else?” “Um, I-I’m sorry for being fat and annoying.” Townes laughs at the absurdity of this situation. Life is such a joke. He walks away, he’s gotten what he’s wanted. Melissa stares at an assortment of pastries. She hmm’s and ah’s so often that Mike asks her what’s wrong. “Nothing’s wrong I guess,” she says. “But I just don’t know which one I should get.” “What flavors do you like?” he asks. “It’s not for me, Mikey,” she sighs. “It’s for my crush.” Mike can’t hide his irritation at the mention of her crush. He looks annoyed. Melissa laughs. “I’m just kidding, it’s for my friend. I don’t have a crush.” It’s more of a possession, a deep longing, a feeling that has been echoed endlessly throughout time, immemorial and beautiful; maddening. If her existence has been absolutely meaningless and unremarkable thus far, let this finally be the mark. She smiles to herself, perhaps it is a crush. “Well, uh, oh,” he laughs. Happy again, as predicted. “I’d get them a Boston cream or something.” Townes would hate that, she thinks. He would find it far too messy, all that white filling spilling out. He would probably find it shameful. It’s the sluttiest type of donut. She decides on one Boston cream, and one plain glazed. She has Mike make a coffee, she assumes Townes will probably want it. Paul’s waiting for her outside the store, she tells Mike bye, that she’ll see him tomorrow. “Hey, Paul.” “Hello, Melissa,” he says warmly. “I brought you a donut. Boston cream, so yummy.” “Oh! Well thank you. I do love a Boston cream.” “I thought you would,” she says slyly. “You may want to get your things tomorrow instead. Townes is, uh,” Paul fumbles with his words. “Well, he’s just not having a very good day.” “He wants to see me,” Melissa says. Paul chuckles and says, “He doesn’t want to see anyone.” Melissa runs to his room, she’s missed him all day. Townes is lying face down on his bed in his boxers. She notices an empty bottle of vodka. He lifts his head up and glares at her. She smiles. “You’re drunk,” she notices. “Okay,” he says. She laughs. “Where’s my stuff?” she asks. “Trash.” “What?” “I threw it away.” “You threw my stuff away?” “Yes,” he slurs. Melissa sets everything on his nightstand and hops in bed. She rolls him onto his back, he lets her. She pushes his hair out of his eyes with both of her hands. She bends down and kisses his cheek. “I brought you something,” she says softly. “What?” She hands him the coffee. He hands it back to her and moves to lean against his headboard. He holds out his hand, she gives him the cup back. She looks up at him while he drinks. “I brought you something else,” she says. He smiles and looks at her. “What?” he asks. She grabs the bag with the donut. She hands it to him. He stares at the donut for a few seconds. “Why is there a bite in it?” “I just wanted to try it,” she says. He starts eating. She crawls over to him and takes a bite of the donut he’s holding. He takes another bite and then holds it in front of her mouth, she finishes it. He keeps drinking the coffee. “Did you really throw my stuff away?” she asks. “Yeah.” Melissa thinks, if it had been anyone else, she probably would have killed them. Now, she would only want her things back because she knows that they were touched by him. “I’m going to miss that dress,” she says. “Will you buy me another one?” “What was it like fifteen dollars?” he asks. “Do you want fifteen dollars, Melissa?” “Actually it was sixty,” she corrects. “How’d you pay for that?” “James bought it for me.” Townes wonders who James is. Does she bring James coffees and donuts? He feels sick, imagining her serving anyone else like this. But perhaps he has to consider that maybe Melissa’s just a slut. Maybe she does this for countless guys. “Why are you drunk?” she asks. “I’m so confused why you’re still here.” “You’re not happy to see me?” “I’m happy to see you. I hate when you open your mouth, though.” “Really? Last night you liked how open my mouth was.” Townes laughs. “Stop flirting with me,” he says. He keeps drinking the coffee. It’s familiar, like he’s had it before. He wonders how a girl like Melissa, with such little class, and zero pedigree, knew where to get good coffee. “I feel like you’re insulting me in your head,” she says. “I am.” “I’m sorry for saying your parents probably hate you. Even though they definitely hate you and resent you and your life is actually so fucking sad, I’m still sorry for saying it.” “Two apologies in one day, that’s nice.” “Who gave you the first apology?” she asks. “Nora,” he says. He hopes she feels the same way as he did when she mentioned James. Misery loves company and all. “Who’s Nora?” Townes smiles, he likes this. “Do you want to meet her?” Melissa says yes a little too quickly, she’s so obvious. Townes smacks her thigh and tells her, “Get up.” He puts on sunglasses and walks out of his room, Melissa follows. Nora hasn’t left that spot on the couch all day, he wonders if she’s going to leave a large, misshapen imprint. He announces, “That’s Nora.” Nora looks up suddenly, Cheetos dust on her fingers. She glances between him and Melissa. “Hi,” she says, licking her lips. Melissa crosses her arms, “You’re Nora?” “Yeah.” “What are you?” Melissa asks. “What do you mean?” “I mean, like, do you work here?” “My mom’s the cook,” Nora says. “And property manager.” “So what do you do?” Melissa asks. Townes answers, “She eats.” Melissa laughs. “Clearly. Are those regular or flaming hot?” “Regular,” Nora says softly. “When I’m hungry I just eat carrot sticks,” Melissa says. “They’re like nature’s chips.” Townes throws an arm around Melissa and pulls her away. He decides that they’ve talked to it enough. “Wow, Townes,” Melissa says. “This whole time I thought you’d be surrounded by bad bitches.” He laughs at how stupid she sounds. “Am I not?” “No,” she says. “I thought I would be jealous, but I’m not at all. I was at first, when you said her name.” “You were jealous?” “Townes, I’ve said it a hundred times. I have a really big crush on you,” she says. “Why wouldn’t I be jealous?” Townes likes how honest she is, even if it’s embarrassing as fuck for her. Who admits they have a crush after a few days? Melissa is pathetic. She only gets away with it because she’s so beautiful. “Whenever you stop talking, I know you’re being mean to me in your head.” “Do you want me to say it out loud?” he offers. “No. I’d probably cry.” They’re back on Townes’ bed, he wonders if she’ll ever leave. Melissa wants to have sex with Townes. She feels weird he hasn’t tried anything with her. She knows it means he doesn’t desire her. Isn’t that one of the first desires, to be desired? Is he sharing the same fantasies? Perhaps fantasizing spares both of them from indulging, it is clear that they both know it won’t end well. However violent, however painful, she wants it. Terribly. Townes is asleep. Earlier Melissa sat on the sink and watched him brush his teeth three times, he felt like the donut had already begun to rot his teeth. She knows he has serious psychological issues, but he’s quite entertaining. She sits next to him as he sleeps, she loves his room. The ceilings are the highest she’s ever seen in a house, it’s simple, clean. Much better than Snat’s. She decides that she’s going to try to stay with Townes for as long as possible, best behavior. After scrolling on her phone for a while, she cuddles up next to him, falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Townes watches Melissa search through his things, he is slightly irritated, but mostly confused. He does hate her, but he likes hating things. She’s looked through every drawer thoroughly, he doesn’t know what she’s trying to find, she says she’s just looking. “I’m going home tonight,” she informs him, hopping back in bed. “Okay,” he says. “Can I come over after school tomorrow?” she asks. Townes doesn’t understand why she wants to be around him so often, he feels like she doesn’t have a normal crush. She’s like, obsessed with him. Townes frowns upon obsession, it’s very unbecoming. He thinks Melissa needs psychological help in order to address her crippling and glaringly obvious attachment issues. Before he has a chance to tell her no, she says, “I have to go to work. I’ll be back tomorrow if that’s okay.” Melissa kisses his cheek and leaves, wearing a different pair of his sweatpants and one of his white t-shirts she’s rolled up, she doesn’t even know that it’s Issey Miyake, she knows nothing. She’s the worst kind of girl, poor and tasteless. Townes originally thought that her lack of thorough-bred blood and poorness would bother him more, but she doesn’t act like a poor person. At times, it shows. She is clueless, she has no knowledge of designer brands, or archive fashion, or hedge funds, or inheritance tax, or Nobu, or the Ludlow Hotel, or double-barreled surnames, or Institut Le Rosey, or Almas caviar, or Gstaad, or having factories named after you, or Loro Piana, or prositition scandals, or horse racing, or only wearing watches from brands incepted in the 1700s, or summers at the chateau, or Richard Mille, or catching your father fuck his suit tailor, or the Genève Aéroport, or why Philipp Plein and Alec Monopoly should drop dead, or Erewhon, or the absolute pain in the ass it is when the power goes out and your estate’s electric gate can’t fucking open. Despite this, despite her idiotic disposition, he likes that she thought of him. He likes that she cared, and fed him, and drowns him in compliments and beauty. There’s a lot of things he hates, though. He hates that he knows nothing about her, he hates how fast it all happened, he hates how he is, in this way like her, incredibly clueless. He hates that he doesn’t know what she actually wants. He knows she wants to fuck, but that’s going to happen regardless. He wants to know what she wants besides fucking, as it seems, fundamentally, way more important. She makes him feel feverish and deranged. Obsession is not the word he would use quite yet, perhaps rather an abstract, unexplored feeling, an idea he’s been entertaining; he would like to own her. If he could tape her mouth shut and sit her on a shelf to simply look at, he probably would. But if he thinks about it for too long, the silence, the lack of her voice, he finds he despises that idea. Melissa is beautiful and irritating, perhaps she could be his next possession. Townes remains undecided and confused.

Chapter Thirty-Six

“Mike,” Melissa says. “Please. What else can I do?” “I’m telling you, there’s nothing else. You have school tomorrow,” Mike says. “Go home, get some rest. That’s what you can do.” That’s the problem, Melissa really, really doesn’t want to go home. “Is there something I can clean?” she offers. Mike walks over to the tip jar and takes out a few bills. He stands in front of Melissa and hands her the cash, he’s chilled by the softness of her fingertips that lightly graze his rough hands. She bites her lip innocently while she looks at the money in her hand. And then she gives him the biggest smile he’s ever seen. “Thank you,” she says, blushing. He takes a mental note of her blushed cheeks, wondering if that’s how she looks after getting fucked. He smiles at her. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks. “Okay, fine,” she agrees. “Bye, Mikey.” Melissa walks to her house, it’s near the shop. She’s drinking her favorite strawberry milkshake that she gets from this nasty little diner, she likes how pink and cute and sweet it is. It reminds her of herself. The simplicity of routine has been lost on her, the walls of expectations are closing in. She always used to tell herself that it would all be over soon once she graduates, but that story is getting harder to believe. Melissa’s biggest fear is being stuck here. She’s never spoken it out loud, in fear that if she does, it will come true. If Melissa is a pathetic, measly human, Townes must be a fallen angel. Both of them unbound by free will, emboldened by their ability to make their own choices. She knows that they are alike in this way; harboring a tendency to choose evil rather than good. Since meeting him, she’s wanted nothing more to share in his divinity. All of the limiting characteristics that humans often suffer with seem to be lost on him. Townes is the maker of his own evil. Despite every opportunity in the world to be happy, he instead suffers religiously, as though incapable of happiness. Perhaps his dedication to suffering has hardened his heart completely, therefore impenetrable by joy. Instead of resenting him for it, she understands him. Whether it is the dying summer’s luminosity, or the sweetness of her milkshake, she is happier than ever. Melissa wouldn’t say it’s love, it’s too soon to be love, but it’s something. She hopes he feels it. Melissa throws her empty milkshake in the yard along with the other shit. It’s the familiar smell of rot that fills her nose as she enters the house. She doesn’t know why she keeps coming back. “Lissy!” Bea rushes over and hugs Melissa, burying her little face into her thigh. “Hey, Bea,” Melissa says, running a hand through her sisters' hair. “Where’s daddy?” “Him and mommy are watchin' tv. John is out again.” Melissa’s angry. Her mother doesn’t have the privilege to just sit around watching tv. It is her anger that leads her to the living room without fear. “Oh, my Lissy girl. Look at that outfit, babe,” her father says to her mother. “Wonder who she’s fuckin’ now. Thems is men’s clothes, ain’t they?” Her mother is a timid, weak bitch. She’s never stood up for Melissa, or Bea, she’s never stood up for herself. At one point, Melissa used to comfort her mother after she saw her get slapped around, punched, kicked in the stomach. Melissa used to care when her mother cried, or begged her father to stop. Melissa isn’t sure when that sorrow for her mother turned to joy. She figures that her mother deserves everything she gets. Her father caught this once, when he saw Melissa smile after he slapped her mother. She didn’t mean to smile, it just happened. He was rougher with her mother after that, knowing Melissa enjoyed watching it. He always made sure to beat her somewhere Melissa could see. It was a game for them. One of the sick pleasures Melissa indulged in as a child, as there wasn’t much else to enjoy. “Why aren’t you working?” she asks her mother coldly. Her mother smiles at her, she looks happy to see her. A genuine, mother’s happiness. A smile that says, “I love you. I’m your mother and I love you. I’ll love you forever. I’ll love you even when I’m dead and buried.” “It’s good to see you, baby,” her mother says. “You ain’t been around much. Bea misses you.” “Why aren’t you working?” Melissa asks again. “Got off early today. I been workin’ a lot these days.” “I don’t fucking care that you’ve been working a lot!” Melissa yells. “Do you want a fucking cookie for doing what you’re supposed to do?” “Better watch your mouth, Lissy girl,” her father smiles. The sick fuck likes it though, watching his wife get degraded. Whether by him or by his own flesh and blood, it doesn’t matter. He can’t hide it, he’s hard watching his slut daughter yell at his slut wife. His sweaty groin aches. “They said I been workin’ too much. Told me to go home early,” her mother says softly. “I’m just here to see Bea,” Melissa says. “I’m leaving after that. Have fun watching Wheel of Fortune with that cockroach next to your foot. It smells like shit in here.” Her father wheezes as he laughs, he opens a can of beer. Melissa walks over to her sister, she’s sitting on the kitchen floor playing with something small and white. “What is that?” Melissa asks. “It’s a mousey,” Bea says. Melissa gasps. “Bea, it’s fucking dead.” “Yeah, but it’s still cute. Dead things can be cute, Lissy,” her sister says. “Like the flowers you give me.” “Oh! That reminds me, here,” Melissa hands her sister a daisy that she had in her pocket. “It’s a little fucked up. Sorry.” “It’s not fucked up. I love it.” Bea is the only person in the world Melissa loves. She brings her flowers every time she sees her. Melissa thinks that’s the only way to show her love, through flowers. To kill something to make someone else happy; that’s an act of true love. “Do you need anything?” She notices her sister’s clothing, too small, dirty. “Mommy asked me that,” Bea giggles. “I told her that Lissy will get it for me.” Melissa’s heart aches. She says, “Here’s fifty dollars. You know the rules right?” Bea nods her head yes and pretends to zip her lips. “Lissy, do you got a boyfriend?” Bea asks with a little smile. “Daddy said you’re wearin’ a boy’s clothes.” “He’s not my boyfriend,” she whispers, smiling to herself. “Well not yet. I’ll let you know later.” Bea giggles with her new secret, she loves everything Melissa tells her. “I have to go now, okay?” Bea’s eyes water, she doesn’t want her sister to leave. But Bea knows that sometimes you have to let things go, even if it hurts. Bea loves all of her critters that she finds around the house, she hates when the pink baby mice grow fur and leave their nest, but she knows they need to go. Everything that stays in this house dies.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Townes is working on a math worksheet with his partner Kevin. Kevin is a so-called senior but he looks twelve years old. Townes feels suspicious about him, like, who really is he? Is his name actually Kevin? And why does he look like a fetus? Understandably, they haven’t been talking much this class period. “What did you get for number 12?” Kevin asks. “40.9 percent,” Townes says. “Huh.” “What?” “I got something completely different,” says Kevin. Townes rolls his eyes. Who the fuck asked what Kevin got for number 12? “Okay,” Townes says. Kevin slides his worksheet in front of Townes. “See. This is what I got.” “Do you realize we’re calculating the marginal distribution in percentages?” Townes asks. “You didn’t do that. Like at all.” “Ohhhh,” Kevins says. “Yeah. Dang I messed up.” Townes prays this class ends soon. Melissa feels terrible. Usually after visiting her family she has sex to feel better. She wants to know that she’s seen, she wants to know that she’s real, that someone in this world wants her. Since meeting Townes, she’s had no desire to fuck anyone but him. Normally she would go to James or Snat, that’s all she’s ever known, but things are different now. She has to consider how Townes would feel about her fucking other guys. She knows they aren’t dating, but she wants to be loyal. Of course, he needs to be loyal as well. They’ll have to have a talk about it soon. Hopefully tonight, and then they can have sex after. When lunch comes around, she tells her friends that she’s on an all-grape diet, and that being in the dining hall has too many temptations, just way, way too many. She promises Jenna that she’ll share her meal plan later, and her measurements, and her BMI. Jenna’s fucked in the head. Melissa doesn’t know where Townes goes during lunch, she texted him, but he hasn’t responded to a single one. It doesn’t matter, Melissa knows she’ll find him. Melissa can’t find him. After nearly blacking out with rage, she decides to check the library’s basement. She feels stupid for not checking it earlier. Townes is sitting on the same beanbag, looking down at his phone. The proof that he’s been ignoring her makes her feel murderous. She walks over to him, he doesn’t look up, even though he knows she’s right in front of him. She hates him. She takes his phone and throws it against the stone wall. The echo of it shattering soothes her soul. “Thank you, Melissa,” he says. “Fuck you.” He laughs. “Stop fucking laughing at me,” she says loudly. “You’re psychotic,” he says. “You don’t get to ignore me.” “You look like you’re about to cry,” he says smiling. Melissa is about to cry. Here she is, being completely faithful to someone who couldn’t care less. She thinks, how dare he? She plops down next to him on the beanbag, resting her head on his shoulder. “I hope you’re having a terrible day,” she says. “I have been,” he admits. “Why?” she asks. “I have to do a group project in english.” Melissa laughs, she feels a tear run down her cheek. The last thing she wants is for him to see her cry, so she keeps her head down. “Yeah. Those are the worst.” He notices the difference in her voice immediately. Townes grabs her hair and lifts her head to see her face. “Stop, Townes.” “You’re crying.” “No I’m not.” She wipes her tears. She gives him a big smile. “See? I’m sooo happy.” What happens next shocks them both, Townes kisses her lips. Just once, but her heart blossoms. This is all she wants forever. She wants to thank him but she knows he would find that pathetic, so instead she just puts her head back on his shoulder. She can’t stop smiling. “Will you buy me a new phone?” he asks. “I have five dollars,” she says. Townes laughs, she pokes his rib. “I’m not going to apologize for breaking your phone. It was your fault.” “Melissa,” he says. “I can treat you however the fuck I want.” “You can,” she agrees. “And I can also do what I want.” “Do you know that you're delusional, or are you in denial about it?” “Will you hang out with me during study hall?” she asks. There’s no point in answering stupid questions. “I can’t,” he says. “I’m leaving early.” “Why?” “It’s a secret.” It’s not a secret, he just said that to annoy Melissa. She’s going to drive herself crazy trying to figure it out. The truth is, today is Townes’ birthday. Every year his father forces him to go out for a nice, family dinner. Townes is just happy he gets to leave school early. He stares at his shattered phone in the car, surprised that it still works. He feels warm all over. He discovers that he likes her crazy. Melissa’s staring at a shipment of books, vintage Murakami. She sighs, who lets men write? “Mikey,” she calls. “What’s up?” “Why not order some Donna Tartt, or like, literally anything else. You literally only have male authors in here.” “Huh,” he says. “I never noticed that.” “I mean, Kafka’s fine, but Bukowski?” She shakes her head in disapproval. “What’s wrong with Bukowski?” Mike asks. She rolls her eyes. “He’s fucking retarded,” Melissa says. “Woah,” Mike laughs. “I don’t think that word is very, um, politically correct.” Melissa thinks, I don’t think wanting to fuck a seventeen year old girl is very politically correct either. “Anne Sexton, Sylvia Plath, Toni Morrison, Ottessa Moshfegh, Audre Lorde, Angela Davis, Eve Babitz, Anaïs Nin, Bell Hooks, Joan Didion, Donna Tartt. And you choose fucking Bukowski.” “I see your point,” Mike says. “Fine. Write down some of your favorite authors. I’ll make a few orders.” Melissa is breaking down boxes when her phone rings, her heart stops beating when she sees Townes calling. “Hello?” she says, lightheaded. “Melissa,” he says. She can tell he’s been drinking by the languid tone in which he says her name. “Be at my house tonight.” “Okay,” she smiles. “What time?” “I’ll be there at like, I don’t know. Like around 11.” “Okay. Do you want me waiting on your bed?” “Yes.” Melissa feels feverish, infected by what will happen tonight. She has hours, but she needs to start getting ready now. She can’t be here. Melissa rubs her eyes a little to make them red, and goes to find Mike. “Mikey,” she says, softly. “Hey,” he looks at her. “Oh, hey, hey. What’s wrong?” “I have a family emergency,” she sniffs. “I’m sorry. I have to go. Please don’t fire me, Mikey. Please. I’m sorry.” “Hey, hey don’t apologize. Of course I won’t fire you. Don’t cry, Mel. It’s okay.” Mike puts a hand on her shoulder and gently squeezes. She smiles at him. “You’re the best,” she compliments. Melissa gives him a quick hug before leaving. She walks to Snat’s house, making a checklist of what she needs to accomplish for tonight. She’ll wash her hair, blow it out, exfoliate her entire body then shave every inch, slather herself in baby oil and body butter, makeup, perfume, matching bra and underwear set. She doesn’t know Townes’ favorite color but she’s assuming it's black based on the majority of the clothes that he owns. She’ll wear a black set then, just for him. The shower won’t turn on. There’s no water coming out of the shower head. Melissa starts to panic. The sink isn’t working either. “Snat!” she screams, tears forming in her eyes. “Whatchu screamin’ for, Mel?” Snat asks calmly. “The fucking shower won’t turn on!” “Yeah, there’s some plumbing work they doin’. Water should be back on in a few hours.” “I don’t have a few fucking hours, Snat!” Melissa starts banging on the faucet, Snat pulls her away. “Stop that shit,” he says. “Where do you need to be?” Melissa closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Can you drive me somewhere?” Melissa’s standing outside the gate of Townes’ house. She keeps pressing the button, no one’s answering. Finally, a timid voice says, “Hello?” Melissa knows it’s Nora. “Hey, it’s Melissa. Open the gate.” “Oh, uh. Townes isn’t here.” “Yeah, I know that,” Melissa says, frustrated. “He knows I’m coming over so open the gate. There’s so many bugs out here. I’m literally being attacked.” She watches the gate slowly open and she runs to the house. Nora let’s her in the front door. The girls don’t speak to each other , Melissa heads straight to Townes’ shower. Before getting here, Melissa packed a bag. She filled it with most of her belongings. She put her pink toothbrush next to Townes’ black one. All of her skincare products lined up neatly on his counter. She stocked the shelves in his shower with her shampoo, conditioner, razor, body wash. She put his things on the shower floor. And then she started the process. Melissa is meticulous when it comes to her appearance, it’s the only thing she has of worth. She finds clinical satisfaction in being perfect. Townes will be her happiest accomplishment yet. For him she will be his dream girl, his fantasy in flesh, his tantalizing object. She will fucking worship him. It is thrilling, absolutely thrilling, to know that he might actually accept her, thorns and all. Melissa is sitting on his bed waiting for her hair to dry. She’s exhausted from her routine, almost enough to take a nap. She puts on one of Townes’ t-shirts and walks downstairs to find Nora. Nora’s in that same spot as always, Melissa wonders what it’s like to have such an empty, unfulfilled life. To be absolutely worthless, to rot as life continues to pass you by. “Hey, Nora,” Melissa says. “Can you help me with something?” Nora didn’t have a chance to properly look at Melissa when they first met, she takes that opportunity now. Nora knows immediately why Townes has been hanging out with her. Melissa is stunning. It’s not a normal type of beauty, it is devoid of sweetness and innocence, it’s almost painful. Melissa’s face reflects Townes’ in this way, there is an ever present condescending sneer they both wear, as though they are secretly judging everyone. Nora thinks that Melissa looks like a doll, if that doll was possessed by a demonic entity. Her face is evil, witch-like, without warmth. She has death in her eyes. Perhaps Nora is being dramatic and tortured, but there is something deeply unsettling about Melissa. “What do you need?” Nora asks. “My hair,” Melissa sighs. “Can you blow dry it for me. I’m so sleepy.” It’s as though Melissa has her own gravitational pull, you know that she’s a black hole so you try to keep your distance, but you just can’t say no to her. You want to make her happy. “Okay, sure,” Nora says. Melissa smiles at her, on the surface it seems genuine, thankful, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. They walk upstairs together, Nora stops before entering his room. “What’s wrong?” Melissa asks. “He wouldn’t want me in there.” Melissa stares at her for a second. “Wait there then,” she says. She comes back out holding a blow dryer, hair straightener, and a small bottle of oil. “Where should we go?” Melissa asks. She follows Nora into another room. Melissa sits at the desk. She closes her eyes as Nora blow drys her hair, she loves being pampered. After her hair is dry, Melissa asks if she could straighten it as well. Nora agrees. “Is this your room?” Melissa asks. “It’s just a guest bedroom,” Nora says. “Technically I live in the spare house on the property, but I like it here better.” “Why?” “I don’t know. More comfortable, I guess.” Melissa scrolls on her phone for a bit, her hair always takes the longest, she has so much of it. “Do you have a boyfriend?” Melissa asks. Nora laughs, it is not a humorous sound but rather completely self-deprecating. “No,” Nora says. “I’ve never even kissed a boy.” Townes holding her hand is the only time she’s been touched by one. “I can’t really imagine you being kissed,” Melissa says. “Yeah. Me neither,” Nora agrees. “Have you ever been kissed?” Nora already knows she probably has, but she finds herself wanting to know more about the girl. “Yeah,” Melissa says. “A lot.” “Do you like kissing?” Melissa thinks about Townes. She can’t think of any other kisses that matter. “I like kissing this one boy,” Melissa smiles. “What about, like,” Nora struggles to find her words. “Have you ever, um.” “What? Had sex?” Nora nods her head. “Yeah. I have two bodies,” Melissa says. “You probably think that’s a lot.” “No. I think it’s a normal number. I wish I could have sex.” “You can. Boys will fuck literally anything.” Melissa laughs. “I literally saw a boy fuck a hot pocket.” Nora laughs with her. “Have you ever seen Townes with a girl?” Melissa asks. “Only one.” “Who?” “Her name is Dolly or something.” Melissa’s heart starts beating. “Is she pretty?” “Yeah,” Nora says. “I didn’t see her that much, though.” “Were they, like, fucking?” “Yeah.” “How do you know?” “I heard them.” Melissa’s hands start to shake, she feels betrayed. So he’s not asexual after all. “Is that the only girl he’s been with?” “Well this summer I think, yeah,” Nora says. “This is the first time he’s been home for the entire summer, though.” “Where does he normally go during summer?” “I don’t know exactly. I think mostly Europe.” “Why didn’t he this summer?” Melissa asks. “I don’t know.” “Are you sure you heard him and Dolly fucking?” “Yeah.” Of course she fucking heard it, she sobbed to Dolly’s moans and the slapping of skin. After Melissa’s hair is finished, she feels no desire to do her makeup. She doesn’t want to get ready for a boy who does not desire her. She wonders who Dolly is, she obsesses over it. Melissa wants to know what she looks like, what clothing she wears, how she does her hair and makeup, so that she may copy her and become something that he actually wants. There is a stolen bottle of Fireball in Melissa’s bag, Snat has a large collection of alcohol, he won’t miss it. Melissa drinks her pain away and does her makeup. By the time she’s finished, she is absolutely drunk.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Townes has been drinking wine and champagne all night. His father doesn't believe that those count as alcoholic drinks, so he's been letting his son get drunk right under his boney nose. When his father excuses himself to the restroom because the oysters aren't agreeing with him, Townes and Grace are alone at the table. Everything is blurry, all he sees is tits and puffed up lips. “Townes,” Grace says, rubbing her belly. “I know you don't like me, but I need you to know that I've always wanted to be a mommy. Or like, a milf. Wait, oh my god, I’m literally a milf. Well, I will be, in like, a few months. I cried when I found out I was pregnant. I just, it was like, the happiest moment of my life. And I literally promise, I promise, it won't impact you at all.” Townes already knows that this isn’t true, he knows his father will split his inheritance, it's already done. Townes says, “Okay.” “No, like, this is my dream. I love your daddy. I know you don't, like, believe that. But I'm literally so in love. Like so, so in love.” He knows Grace is telling the truth, she's too retarded to be a convincing liar. He really doesn’t care about this right now, not when he knows Melissa is waiting for him. Townes knew he’d be drinking wine tonight, he knew this would be the perfect opportunity to fuck her. He doesn’t feel excitement or nervousness, more so a curiosity in knowing if it will be different with her. “So eighteen, huh? That’s very exciting,” Grace smiles. “Is it?” Townes asks, he can barely hold his head up. “When I turned eighteen, I did a shoot with Playboy,” she says. “It was, like, literally such a huge accomplishment.” “Interesting,” he says. Grace pulls out her phone and shows him a picture of herself in a little cowgirl costume. It leaves very little to the imagination. “Nice,” Townes compliments. Townes falls out of his father’s car when he gets home. “You okay, buddy?” his father asks, concerned. “Yes.” “Do you want us to come inside? Hang out with you for a little bit?” “That will not be necessary,” Townes assures. “Oh, well, alright.” he says. “I hope you enjoyed your birthday. I love you, buddy.” “The night is still young, Townes!” Grace sings. “Turn up!” Townes enters the house, Nora is watching TV and eating ice-cream, he walks into the kitchen. He drinks some water before heading upstairs. “Happy birthday,” Nora says quietly as he passes. He gives her the middle finger and heads upstairs. The light in his bedroom is on, he opens the door. Melissa’s head turns when she hears him enter, she’s lying on her stomach with her feet in the air. She looks devastating. “Hey,” she says. They’re both drunk, they both want each other, this much is obvious. Townes doesn’t say anything, he sits on the bed and struggles to take off his loafers. She laughs at him. Finally he lies on his back, she’s looking down at him. “Who’s Dolly?” she asks, stroking his cheek softly. Townes doesn’t know how the fuck she knows, but he also doesn’t particularly care that she knows. She’s wasting his time. “Who’s James?” he asks. Melissa hates that he’s bringing up someone from the past, can’t he just focus on her? Who cares about those who came before? Townes' shattered phone vibrates from a text. She smiles and asks, “Who’s texting us?” Townes laughs at her and checks, it’s a happy birthday message from his mother, promising to call him as soon as she can. He feels content, sometimes she forgets that it's his birthday. Townes shows Melissa the message, she gasps. “It’s your fucking birthday?” she grabs him by the shoulders and shakes him, he laughs harder. She plants sloppy kisses all over his face, he wipes them off. She’s drunk. “You’re a virgo,” she tells him. “Awesome,” he says, uninterested in her astrological musings. “Who is Dolly, Townes?” Melissa asks again, she doesn’t look happy. He rolls his eyes. “We fucked on this bed,” he answers. The words are cruel and harsh, Melissa sees red. She gets off of the bed quickly and throws all of the pillows on the floor, he watches her. Next she tries to pull the comforter off, but Townes is on top, so she tells him to get the fuck up, he does and sits on the floor. She rips all of the sheets off. He wonders if alcohol has given her super powers, she struggles with pushing the mattress off, but it plops down eventually. Melissa looks at her work and smiles, joining him on the floor. She wants him to replace the mattress, it's unfair to her. She can’t believe he let her into a bed that he's fucked another girl on, it's horrifying. Townes lies down, he’s too drunk to react to his room being destroyed. “I hate her,” she says, resting on his chest. “I don’t care,” he replies. She starts unbuttoning his white button down, he lets her. She kisses him quickly on the lips and looks at him. “Happy birthday. I hope you get everything you wish for.” Townes has never wished for anything, in fact, he’s surprised he made it to eighteen. He thought for sure he’d be dead by now. Funny how life works. “Thank you, Melissa. That’s very nice of you.” She crawls on top of him, both of her legs are on either side of his waist. She leans down to kiss him, she feels him grab her ass. “Can you bring the Fireball over here?” he asks her. She takes it off of his nightstand, unscrewing the cap. She grabs his face and pours it into his mouth, she kisses him again. Before long, Townes is blacking in and out of consciousness, he’s not really sure what’s happening, he might be dying. Melissa’s just as drunk as him, he was definitely inside of her at one point. He gags. “Did you just gag?” Melissa asks. “Where’s the condom?” Townes asks, panicked. “What?” she asks. Townes gets up quickly and goes into the bathroom, he vomits violently into the toilet. He’s having a panic attack, he’s only wearing boxers and his unbuttoned shirt, he takes off everything, and grabs his toothbrush and toothpaste. He turns on the shower immediately and gets it. Raw sex. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could make him sicker. He debates chopping his dick off as he brushes his teeth for the third time, the drunkenness and cascading water makes it difficult for him to hold his toothbrush properly. She probably has countless diseases. Countless. Who knows what she’s just given him? He can picture the warts now, he gags again. He wonders why his body wash smells like flowers, why it smells like her. He sees Melissa wobble into the bathroom, he can’t bear to look at her face. This girl who’s just infected him. Has she no shame? “Do you always just randomly start showering?” she asks. He ignores her, perhaps if he pretends she’s not there, she’ll go away forever. Instead, she gets in the shower with him, all of her makeup runs down her face. Townes closes his eyes, he feels like he’s suffocating. Melissa wraps her arms around his neck, he opens his eyes to look at her. “What’s wrong?” she asks. “I hate you,” he tells her. And in this moment, he truly does. She can feel it. “I don’t care if you hate me,” she says. “Tell me what’s wrong.” “Why wouldn’t you make sure there’s a fucking condom?” “We’re drunk, Townes. It was only in for like five seconds.” “It doesn’t matter,” he says, exasperated. “You can still spread your diseases.” She rolls her eyes at his dramatics. “I don’t have any diseases, Townes.” “How do you know?” “I took some tests. They texted me my results.” Townes can feel air returning to his lungs, he can breathe again. “Can I see?” She says, “Of course.” They get out of the shower, she puts on his t-shirt, grabs her phone and sits on the sink. He puts on boxers and joins her in the bathroom. Townes and Melissa are soaking wet and staring at a phone screen. She really wasn’t lying, she doesn’t have any diseases. He’s standing between her legs, she turns off her phone and puts it down. “We have school in a few hours,” she says sadly. Townes kisses her neck, she leans her head back, he pushes up her shirt, they both quietly gasp as he slides into her. She wraps her legs around his waist, he’s moving so fast, she can’t think. Her moans fill the silent bathroom. “Townes?” she breathes. “Stop talking,” he says. She bites his shoulder, he laughs. “Townes?” she tries again. “What?” he starts going faster, he’s close, he can feel it. “I wanted—” she takes a breath. “I wanted to—” she can’t speak, her eyes are watering from how hard she’s being fucked. She just wants to tell him that she really likes him, but she’ll tell him after. Townes pulls out and cums on her thigh. He’s almost shocked by the sight, this rarely happens. Melissa finishes from watching him finish. She leans back on the counter, breathing heavily, he uses his button up shirt to wipe her thigh. Townes thinks, this must be the power of fucking girls that you’re extremely attracted to. And wine. The power of wine and Melissa. Townes is lying on his mattress that's on the floor, he's wearing his school uniform, waiting for Melissa to finish getting ready. They slept for two hours. They both may die today. Melissa comes back in the room wearing a pink lace bra and her plaid school skirt. Townes thinks she looks hot. She sits on top of him and kisses his cheek, he wraps an arm around her waist, his phone starts ringing. “Hello?” he says in a sleepy voice. “Benny! It’s mommy! My little baby is a man!” his mother screams. Melissa starts kissing his neck. “Happy happy happy birthday! Joyeux anniversaire! What did you end up doing?” “Uh, I don’t remember,” he says. “That’s how you know it was a good birthday,” she laughs. Melissa’s hand is wandering places it shouldn’t be, Townes clenches his jaw. “Yeah. Best birthday ever,” he says distractedly. He feels Melissa pull down his zipper and reach inside of his pants. “Well, hello! Give me details! I hope you had fun, Benny,” she says. “Don’t let what happened stop you from having fun.” Melissa starts to stroke. “Yeah—uh, it was, it, holy sh—,” he stops himself. “Mom I have to go, I have a test in like, thirty seconds.” “Oh! Call me later, my baby. Good luck on your test! I love you Be—.” he hangs up. Melissa and Townes look up when they hear a knock on his door, she stops stroking and zips his pants back up. “Time for school, Townes,” Paul says. “School is cool, being late is not cool.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Townes and Melissa fuck everyday for two weeks. They fall into a routine, they rarely see each other at school, Townes goes home during study hall last period, finishes his homework, and gets drunk while Melissa’s at work. Melissa hadn’t cured him. He still cannot handle her touch sober. Sometimes he wonders if his excitement for the dwindling day is to see her, or to drink. He supposes it’s a mix of both. He hates when she has to leave for work, he hates how happy her job makes her, how it keeps her from him. He never once asked her to stay with him, he doesn’t want her to know that it’s torture for him. Melissa has work in the morning. They’re in his bed on his new mattress, she’s doing homework, he’s lying face down into a pillow. He is in a very bad mood. Sometimes Townes wants to hurt Melissa. Not physically, that would be too easy. Psychological warfare is much more damaging. Sometimes he wants to reduce her to nothing, just to see how she’d react. He wants to know if she would stay with him, for better or for worse. He hates that she exists outside of him, that other people can see her. Townes feels, wholeheartedly, that she was made for him, that the only reason she was born was to be with him. She could never amount to anything else. It feels cruel that he has to share her with the rest of the world, it’s getting harder to watch her leave, to watch her talk to other people, to have a life that doesn’t completely revolve around him. Townes is not a creature of infinite patience; the sharp edge of insanity is about to slice them both. He can feel it. “I don’t understand this problem. Help me,” Melissa whines. He wants to push her off of the bed. Melissa takes a pillow and hits him with it, he’s been ignoring her for an hour. “Townes,” she says. “Townes. Townes. Townes. Townes, I'm pregnant.” He keeps ignoring her. “Townes?” Melissa tries to think of something, anything. “You’re a fucking child.” At some point, her anger at his immaturity turns to sadness. She wants him to tell her what she’s done and how she can fix it. She will be anything he wants her to be, he just has to say it. “I’m going to start cutting your clothes up,” Melissa says in a defeated tone, like it really pains her to have to do this. She grabs a pair of scissors from his desk, chooses a shirt, and stands near the bed so that he can hear it being sliced to pieces. At first, he doesn’t react, but as she cuts up his third shirt, he sits up to look at her. Melissa drops everything she’s holding and jumps on top of him. She covers him in kisses, all over his face, he starts to smile. “I missed you,” she sighs happily. Townes wants so badly to tell her to call off work tomorrow and stay with him. This is one thing he will not do, humiliate himself for her. Reduce himself to someone who begs. “Do you actually like working?” he asks. “Yeah,” she smiles. “I actually love it. It’s my favorite thing besides you.” “You’re barely getting paid,” he says, looking down. “It’s not just money. I just love it, I don’t know why. I feel so independent. I feel like a real woman.” He smiles sadly, he knows she won’t choose him over her job. This hurts him deeply, that familiar feeling of not being wanted in the way that reflects his own want. Perhaps this is his new biggest fear, wanting someone more than they want him. The sadness is radiating off of him in waves. Wilder shores of love. At the slightest indication of his sadness, Melissa feels like she could die. She feels her heart breaking. It is some kind of unholy bond that exists between them, as though they are a singular entity. Melissa wants to take the brief moments of happiness he has and wrap it up in pink silk so that it can’t slip away. To share the same sufferings, the same madness, she knows that it’s love. She will never tell him, she knows he doesn’t love her, but she hopes he might someday. Sometimes she's worried it's going to slip out of her mouth like a fuzzy moth drawn to light, heading straight towards its death. There is a terrifying strangeness of her urge to protect him from the world, from anyone that does not see him as she does, from himself. Townes feels like a child with the way that Melissa comforts him. Sometimes he cannot stand her. Once, he felt held prisoner by her smiles and her joy, not wanting to disturb her happiness, now he feels like himself again. Townes completes all of her math homework for her, he drinks, he fucks her roughly without care, pushing her head into a pillow, she takes the pain. Melissa was given the day off on Sunday, she’s wearing a clay face mask in the bath, she’s reading Melissa Broder. Townes tells her that he’ll be back soon, that he just needs to go somewhere, no it's nothing bad he promises, he kisses her knowing how lightheaded she gets, she doesn’t question him. Townes walks down a tree lined street. He goes inside of the bookshop that she works at, he looks around the place that steals so much of her time from him. Hatred flares. Every single coffee bean and book in here deeply offends him. Her turn to die for love. “Hey there,” an older man greets, slight recognition lifting his voice. “Let me know if you need help with anything.” “Are you Mike?” Townes asks dryly. “Yup, that’s me.” Townes squints his eyes at him, checks his phone, Melissa wants him home. Townes figures that this can be quick, he doesn’t need to be dramatic. “You need to fire Melissa,” Townes tells Mike calmly. “What?” Mike asks, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Melissa. She’s your only fucking employee.” “Yeah, I know Melissa. I’m just confused about what you’re asking.” “I didn’t ask anything,” Townes says. “I’m telling you to fire her.” “Excuse me?” “Do you know how easy it would be to tell everyone that you fucked a seventeen year old girl?” Melissa doesn't really talk about her boss much, she's never uttered an ill word about him. Townes hopes that Mike isn't secretly gay. He hopes that this little threat is enough. Mike’s face heats in embarrassment, at the bluntness and vulgarity of the words. “I haven’t touched her,” he says, in a calm, even tone. “Okay. But you’ve thought about it,” Townes says. “Like that’s so much better.” Mike laughs, “You can’t prove that.” Townes looks down at his phone again, she’s getting annoyed. Melissa starts hyperventilating if she feels like they aren’t spending enough time together. “It's not hard to fake proof you fucking idiot,” Townes says. Reality, much like this old fuck, can be manipulated. “Everyone probably already thinks you're a pedophile. I mean Jesus, look at your books. It’s too fucking easy.” Mike knows an unhinged person when he sees one, he knows that they don’t bluff. He also knows he’s guilty of everything this boy’s accusing him of. Of course he hasn’t actually fucked Melissa, but he planned to. He had every intention to thrust his cock deep inside of her the minute she turned eighteen. He feels sick. His armpits grow sweaty. He clenches his jaw. Pedophile is one of those labels that doesn’t leave men, it will follow him how AIDS follow faggots and drugs follow blacks and stench follows curry lovers and sexual deviancy follows Mexicans. It would follow him, for the rest of his life, even without proof, people would side-eye him. He would be like all these other animals infecting this beautiful country. Everyone's always out to get white men like him. The white man is the most hated, marginalized group in America. All this fucking Me Too bullshit. He’ll be the next trending hashtag. Handsome Bookstore Owner and Coffee Connoisseur Exposed as a Pedophile. Look at all of his Bukowski and Rare Lolita Editions. Is it Really That Surprising? He would be like a fucking lepur, an outcast, an oddball. He would be a pedophile. Who cares if he didn’t act upon his urges, people see what they want to see. Mike knows he has to cut his losses. “I’ll fire her,” Mike says quietly. Later, Townes will think of something worse to do to the man, but for now he just smiles. End Part One

Chapter Forty

Melissa is sobbing into Townes' shoulder, it’s the most beautiful sound that he has ever heard. In fact, he’s already thinking of ways he can make her cry like this again. To cry for him. Not because of him, but for him. To weep for your god. Townes does feel like a god, Melissa’s god. He realizes now that he can change anything he doesn’t like about her life. This is creation. “I just don’t understand,” she cries. “Why would he fire me? I worked so hard. I always tried my best. It’s not fair, Townes.” “What did he say when he fired you?” he asks, appreciating how beautifully she cries for him. “He said—he said he can’t afford to keep paying me,” she says, wiping her eyes. She looks perfect. “He’s poor, Melissa,” he says. “You’re better than that job. It’s actually fucked up he would hire you knowing he has no money. Remember what I said about people like him?” “Being around poor people gives you bad luck?” “No,” he smiles proudly. “The other thing.” “Poor people should be out of sight, out of mind?” “Yeah,” he says. “Stop crying over losing a retarded job that wasn’t going anywhere.” “Townes,” she says. “I needed that money, even if you think it wasn’t a lot, it was my entire life.” She thinks of her sister and cries harder. “You don’t need to work,” he says. “Of course I need to fucking work. I need to start looking for another job. Like today.” “No,” Townes says, standing up. He takes out all of the cash he has in his wallet, about four hundred dollars. He throws it on her lap. “What are you doing?” she says, staring at the bills. “You don’t need to work, Melissa. You don’t need to do anything.” he says. “Just look good for me.” He pulls her head back by her hair, leans down to kiss her, and walks away. Melissa traces an outline of President Benjamin Franklin’s face with the tip of her nail. This must be true love, she thinks. She will give him a thousand kisses for this. Townes is at a suit fitting for his father’s wedding. He has been on his best behavior, he needs things. “How about this one, Townes?” his father says, standing like an awkward middle-aged divorcee about to get remarried to a twenty-five year old. Townes has very little respect for divorcees. He feels that it is the ultimate failure, he doesn’t take broken promises and vows lighty. He figures, if you’re going to dedicate yourself to someone, then do it, completely. Go mad in your dedication. How embarrassing it is to admit, to broadcast to the world, that you’re so inept in choosing the right person. Divorce mortifies Townes. “I like the first one,” Townes says, bored. He can’t stop staring at his father’s receding hairline. He used to worry that would happen to him as he got older, the hair loss, but Townes is a spitting image of his mother. There’s no way he would suffer with such unfortunate, ugly, misfortunes. Townes is divinely blessed, as his mother would say. “Oh,” his father hums. “So you like the Loro Piana, huh?” “Why would you get a suit unless it’s Loro Piana?” Townes says, disgusted. “Or Tom Ford.” “No, no, I agree. I just, I don’t know,” he mutters. “Be honest Townes, do I look fat?” Townes thinks about this for a moment, he’s about to ask his father for a small sum of money, so he must be nice, but not overly nice, so as not to cause any suspicion. “You’re not fat,” he says honestly. “You are going bald, though. That’s what you should be worried about. Maybe shave everything off, it’s less embarrassing.” Townes doesn't mean to say the last part, but he had to get it off of his chest. “Jesus, is it that noticeable?” His father runs a hand over his shiny head. Townes simply stares at his father. Personally, Townes takes lots of pride in his appearance. He’s his mother’s son. “It’s very noticeable.” “Oh, fuck,” his father curses. “Should I just shave it, you think? Jesus Christ. Why did no one tell me?” “You've been walking around like that for, like, years,” Townes says. He wonders what Melissa’s doing. She hasn’t texted him since he threw the money on her like a cheap whore. Was she insulted? “I’ll figure it out. Thanks for letting me know. You’re a real one.” Townes laughs, “Who taught you to say that?” “I’m cool, you know. I’m up to date with all that shit.” “Is it because you’re marrying a twenty-five year old?” Townes asks. “Come on, Townes,” his father sighs. “I didn’t fall in love with Grace because of her age. She’s a beautiful person. She makes me feel loved.” “I have a question,” Townes says, he’s disgusted by the direction this conversation has taken. “What’s up, buddy?” “My school is doing a ski trip in November. I want to go.” Technically Melissa wants to go, and lately he has been incapable of saying no to her. “Oh, yeah? That sounds like fun. I remember when me and my buddies used to head up to Aspen. Good times,” his father says with a smile. “I need my card back, dad. I’ve been sober for months,” Townes says. “How are you okay letting me live without money?” His father looks at the ground, uncomfortable. “Well, I know how good you’ve been. I need to discuss with your mom before making any decisions.” “The ski trip is two thousand dollars,” Townes says. He has grossly overpriced the cost, but he knows his father won’t fact check. “That’s a steal,” his father says, surprised. “Do I just write a check to the school?” “Cash only.” “I’ll have Christine bring it for you.” Townes feels happy, but annoyed. He should’ve asked for more. Melissa is hanging out with Emily and Jenna. She sees them during class, but hasn’t been socializing after school. She blames everything on her job. The only reason that she’s here now is to keep up appearances. Her relationship with Townes is hers. She is loving him, secretly and absolutely. “You know James has been asking about you,” says Emily. “He really misses you, Mel.” “I don’t care.” “Are you friends with the new guy?” Jenna asks. “I’ve, like, seen you with him a few times. Wait, his name is, like, Townes, right?” Melissa feels like she’s been slapped. How dare she say his name? Emily shifts uncomfortably at the mention of her crush. They’re in AP English Literature together, her favorite subject. Nothing is more attractive to her than intelligence, and after being put into a group with Townes during class, she knew immediately how perfect they would be together. “I didn’t know you were friends with him,” mutters Emily. Melissa stares at the girl, she wants to use her fake nails and claw Emily’s eyes out. “Yeah,” Melissa says. “We’ve just been, like, hanging out.” Jenna squeals. “Why didn’t you tell us!” “Yeah, why?” Melissa looks straight at Emily as she says, “I really like him. I just wanted to keep things lowkey.” “Wait,” Jenna says suddenly. “Holy shit. You’re fucking. I know you are. You guys are definetly fucking.” “Of course they are,” says Emily under her breath. “What did you say?” Melissa asks. “Nothing.” “No, I heard something,” Melissa says. “If you have something to say, say it to my face.” “I literally didn’t say anything,” Emily snaps. Jenna looks between the two girls. Delicious entertainment. “You’ve fucked more guys than me,” Melissa states. “Which is actually really fucking surprising.” “Why is that surprising?” Emily asks. “Look at us,” Melissa says darkly. “The most you got out of your little situationships was chlamydia and low self-esteem. Remember when Trevor said that you had pepperoni nipples and you couldn’t eat pizza for, like, literally six months.” Emily flinches at the reminder. “That was so mean, Melissa,” Jenna interjects. “Like, really mean.” “Emily literally called me a slut.” “No I didn’t!” “Why do you care that we’re fucking? I didn’t want to say anything because Emily has a weird little fascination with him.” “It’s not a weird fascination, Melissa,” Emily says. “It’s a crush. And you knew that I liked him. I literally told you that.” “Then you should’ve done something about it. Staring at him in the fucking hallway isn’t a great plan to get a boy to notice you.” “How should I have gotten his attention? By fucking him the first night? Is that what you did?” Melissa smiles. Fond memories. “I actually waited a few days,” Melissa says. Emily hates how everything bounces off of Melissa, as though there’s an invisible force protecting her. This bitch must be dickmatized, Emily thinks. “Well, I think that’s very respectable, Mel,” Jenna giggles. “Why are we even fighting right now?” Melissa wonders the same thing. She realizes that she doesn’t actually need anyone else. She has Townes now. Why suffer with such losers? “I’m leaving,” Melissa announces happily. To hell with these inbred cunts. “Wait, Mel, no! We’re fine! Right, Em? Isn’t it good now? Let’s just stop fighting and have fun. We’re rewatching Lady Bird, remember? Kyle! Think of Kyle! Nothing is ever that serious,” Jenna babbles. “My boyfriend is waiting for me,” Melissa says. She’s not sure why she called Townes her boyfriend, but she knows it’ll hurt Emily more to hear such a label, since she’s such an envious little bitch. Once, the thought of losing all of her friends would have destroyed Melissa. There’s no way she could make it on her own. Oh, but this, this is fucking cathartic. All of those times she fucked Snat for coke for them. All of those times she begged James to spend money on her so she could fit in. She is finally free, she has Townes. Melissa feels like she never has to worry again, she’s found her soulmate. Who else does she need? Love does strange things to the mind. Melissa texts Paul to pick her up, she does that now; commands him. This has been an eye opening experience for Melissa, being with Townes. She always thought that her friends had money, but she quickly realized the difference between money and wealth. Townes never talks about his family or his money, nothing needs to be said. Townes never has to lift a finger, therefore Melissa never has to lift a finger. If she wants something cooked, there's someone. If she needs a ride, there’s someone. If she needs her hair blow dried, there’s a fat somone. None of her friends have this amount of staff. Not even James has more than three house cleaners. She sees them now clearly, without illusion, they were never actually better than her. Melissa is still learning how to fit in, she knows it bothers Townes, she tries to act like she’s used to this life, she tries to act unfazed. She wonders if he would be happier with a girl who comes from a good family. Melissa never talks about her family either. None of it seems like necessary conversation. Most of the time, Melissa only sees herself and Townes as the last two people on earth. Nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter. Just them. The Lovers. Fashioned from one of his ribs by the hand of god. Flesh of his flesh. Genesis was written for them, she knows it. As Melissa leaves them behind, walking outside she thinks, may the bridges I burn light the way. Townes still isn’t home, Melissa aches, she feels like crying. She’s not comfortable being without him for this long with nothing to distract her from the pain of his absence. She doesn’t leave his room when he’s not here, the house feels haunted without him. Sometimes Melissa feels like a little girl again, afraid of going around every corner, afraid of every bump in the night, afraid of her own shadow at times. Townes makes her feel safe. He is the light in the dark. He is the warmest blanket. He is the middle of the night. When Melissa hears a knock at the door, she knows immediately that it’s not him. He would never knock. Melissa opens the door to Nora, she is confused and slightly annoyed as to why she’s being bothered. “What?” Melissa asks impatiently. “I was just wondering if you wanted to watch a movie or something,” Nora says shyly. Melissa squints her eyes. Melissa doesn’t trust Nora, she doesn’t buy the shy, innocent act. Townes always calls Nora a mouse, but Melissa thinks that she’s actually a rat. “You want to watch a movie with me?” Melissa asks. “I thought, maybe, if you’re bored,” Nora says. “I have homework,” Melissa smiles, she looks sweet and sinister. “And then, obviously, I’ll be busy with Townes.” Nora digs her nails into her palm. Everything Nora thought she knew about Townes has been false, Dolly was never important. This is what importance looks like. He’s basically moved this girl in. And where are her parents? Don’t they care that she's never home? Nora moved out of the main house, her heart couldn’t handle it anymore. Townes and Melissa fuck everywhere. Everywhere. It’s disgusting. She remembers yelping when she walked in on them in the kitchen at three in the morning. She just wanted a snack, maybe some cookies and warm milk, not sausage. What's worse is Melissa’s moans, like a siren. She has no shame, no self-respect. Nora thinks Melissa is a slut. She hates to think of a fellow girl in such a horrible way, but she is a slut. She’s done something terrible to Townes, it’s like no one else exists when Melissa’s in the room. Townes won’t even look at Nora anymore. She doesn’t care if his gaze was filled with disgust, at least he was looking. Nora knows she can’t do anything about it, she just eats to fill the void he’s left. She thought that befriending Melissa would be a good idea, to learn how to be more like her, study her, be around true beauty, but she quickly discovered that Melissa is just as bad as him. Melissa is awful. An awful, mean spirited, stuck-up, slut. She’s his whore. “Oh, okay,” Nora says. “Good luck with your homework.” Melissa does not return Nora’s smile, she just shuts the door on her. Melissa gets back in bed, she struggles to complete her math homework. Townes left notes and example equations, she wants to show him that she can be smart too. When she hears the bedroom door open, nothing else matters. Melissa runs and jumps on Townes so fast he almost falls. “Hi,” Melissa sighs, melting into his arms. Townes carries Melissa to the bed and throws her down. She laughs. He follows her down lying next to her, he’s exhausted. She leans on her elbow and looks down at him, running a thumb over his cheek and along his jaw. “Tell me you missed me,” he says with a smile. “I did,” she admits. “I missed you so bad I couldn’t breathe.” “That’s healthy.” “Townes look,” she says with a huge smile, holding up a paper. “I did this problem all by myself. See?” She looks so happy, so proud, so innocent. An ache veers straight through him. Townes gets up to push Melissa onto her back, he kisses her quickly. “You’re perfect,” he says, before getting up and heading to the bathroom. She hears the shower turn on. Melissa wonders if she should be naked when he comes back into the room. She decides against it, after careful thought. Townes isn’t a very sexual person. He only wants it when he drinks. Melissa doesn’t bring it up, even though she knows that he’s probably an alcoholic. She doesn’t want to overstep or annoy him. Maybe someday she’ll say something. Townes comes back into the room wearing boxers and an attitude problem. “Where were you today?” he asks Melissa, suspiciously. He knows she must of been busy if she couldn’t bother to pick up her phone for five fucking seconds. Melissa is looking at her nails, she doesn’t feel like fighting with him, she loves him too much right now. “I have no friends anymore, Townes,” she says with a sly smile. He stares at her. “What?” “I was with Emily and Jenna for a little bit, but we’re not friends anymore.” He doesn’t understand what she’s saying, why would they not be friends anymore? Is she fucking with him? “I’m so confused,” he says, putting on a t-shirt. “I’m just done with them,” she says. “I don’t need to be friends with people I hate.” Townes was already planning to ruin her friendships, but she already did it for herself. Townes flops down on the bed, he’s never felt prouder. No friends, no job, no family. Completely his. Townes wants to tell her that he really owns her now, but she probably knows. She’d be stupid not to. “I have a question,” he says. Melissa crawls on top of him, gazing down at him lovingly. “Yes?” she kisses his cheek, runs a hand through his wet hair. “Will you be my date for the wedding rehearsal?” Townes asks. Melissa knows that his father is getting remarried, but she never expected to be a part of it. A small, horrible part of her thought that the reason he wanted her alone in his room was to hide her away because he was embarrassed of her. Now she knows, absolutely, that was never true. She smiles for him. “Yes, of course,” she agrees, beaming at him. “You have to buy me something to wear.” “I will,” he promises. “Whatever you want.”

Chapter Forty-One

Townes is staring at a little bag of coke. He feels his heart beating out of his chest. He feels weak. When Melissa comes back into the bedroom, she stops walking and stares at him. “What are you doing?” she asks, brushing her hair. “Where did you get this?” “Oh,” she laughs. “I forgot I had that. I used to get coke from the drug dealer I lived with.” Townes’ head feels like it could explode, he wants to watch Melissa wash his brains off of the white walls. There’s too much happening, cocaine, drug dealer, Melissa. He closes his eyes and tries to breathe. “Do you want it?” she asks. Townes never told Melissa about his overdose, he hates when people mention it, how they look at him with such pity. For him, it is still an incredibly embarrassing moment. Townes takes his AP calculus textbook and dumps the cocaine on the cover, using one of Melissa’s gift cards to cut the powder into perfect, even lines. His hands are shaking, but he can’t help it, it’s been so long. Townes doesn’t do anything but stare at it. He reminds himself of how bad it was, passed out covered in his own vomit, rushed to the hospital, the doctor telling his parents every drug they found in his body, the violent withdrawal. Melissa sits down next to him watching him watch the lines. He’s clenching his jaw and tapping his fingers on the bed. “What’s wrong?” she says. Townes grabs his wallet and rolls a hundred dollar bill. He wonders how many lines he should take, if his body can even handle it anymore. He asks Melissa if she wants any, she declines. She watches Townes snort two lines. He throws the bill down and kisses Melissa, she’s always shocked by how much her heart swells when he touches her. “Thank you,” he says with a huge smile and huge pupils. “We should do something.” “Do what?” she laughs as he pulls her off of the bed. They run down the stairs hand-in-hand like little kids. When they get to the bottom, Melissa’s back thuds into a wall, Townes is kissing her, and grabbing her ass, she laughs when he kisses her neck. Townes pulls her into the sitting room, he’s always wanted to defile the furniture in here. He pushes Melissa onto the couch, he follows, running his hands up the sides of her thighs to her pink cotton shorts and pulls them off of her. He places his hands on her knees and spreads her legs, bending down to kiss her, not bothering to take her underwear off. He simply moves them to the side and fills her completely. She lets out a breath and digs her nails into his back. They can’t even kiss properly anymore, the old antique couch groans under them. “Townes,” she moans. “I really…I really lo—” she bites his arm to stop herself from saying it. Sex has never been like this with anyone else, Melissa thinks. It’s always been a transaction, a means to an end. But this is just pleasure. Townes never pressures her to have sex. Never. She doesn’t have to be sexual with him to get her way like how she was with James. She gets her way regardless if she fucks him or not. Melissa doesn’t feel any rot anymore, not with Townes fucking it all out of her. There’s no poetry either, it’s just him. By the time Townes cums on her stomach, he feels the comedown about to smack the shit out of him. He grabs Melissa’s shorts, tells her to get up, she limps up the stairs behind him. Townes washes Melissa’s hair in the shower, she’s so at peace she could fall asleep, by the time she finishes her nightly routine, she is exhausted and sore. In the bed she watches Townes snort another line. He finishes all of his homework and Melissa’s math worksheet. At some point in the night, Townes had finished all of the coke. He’s vibrating, ricocheting between euphoria and rage. Why the fuck did Melissa never tell him that she lived with a drug dealer? That time he picked her up for the party, was that his house? She’s a fucking slut. Did he pick her up from a fucking trap house? He drives himself insane imagining all of the idiots who have been with her. He feels like she’s mocking him by how peacefully she sleeps. He taps Melissa, tells her to wake up, she looks at him with sleepy eyes. “What?” she mumbles. “Tell me about the drug dealer.” “Townes, I’m tired.” “Tell me about the fucking drug dealer, Melissa.” She sits up, wiping her eyes, and notices his pupils. Townes doesn’t scare Melissa, but he does make her nervous sometimes. “I just lived with him for a little bit,” she says calmly. Townes looks at her, squinting his eyes, tapping his finger erratically on his leg. “Did you fuck him?” Melissa’s heart drops. She doesn’t want to lie to him, but she’s afraid of how he’ll handle the truth. Especially when he’s acting like a fucking tweaker. She tells him, “No.” Townes doesn’t respond, he just gets up and heads into the bathroom. She follows him, sits on the sink, watches him wash his face and brush his teeth. He doesn’t say anything, she hops off and wraps her arms around his side, she doesn’t know what she did. He pulls her arms off of him, he runs a hand through his hair. He asks her quietly, “Who fucks you like me?” She’s never heard such a dirty sentence asked in such a vulnerable tone, the sincerity of the questions shocks her. “No one,” she tells him. Townes turns her around, and bends her over the sink, she spreads her legs, prepares herself for the pain, she scratches the marble counters as he pushes himself inside of her painfully. She's told Townes countless times he can fuck her whenever he wants, that he can do whatever he wants to her, as he pleases. But she feels horrible. This is the first time she's felt so used, so worthless. When he finishes, she feels cum dripping off of her ass, he leaves her there without a word, walking back to his bed. Melissa starts to cry as she wipes it off. She cries more in bed until she falls asleep. Melissa is sitting on top of Townes in her school uniform, she’s trying to convince him not to skip. But Melissa can recognize coke crash from miles away, she knows the last thing he wants is to go to school. “Where do you hurt?” she asks. “Do you want me to kiss it and make it better?” Townes smiles at her and says, “Everywhere.” She plants kisses around his face, he laughs when she kisses the tip of his nose. “I hated you last night,” Melissa says. “No more coke.” “I agree,” Townes says. “I’m sorry.” He’s actually not sure how much he agrees, but his little bender last night is enough to hold him over for a while. He feels disappointed that he couldn’t control himself in the face of temptation. God knows he tried. Melissa smiles, “Aw, you’re sorry? How sorry?” “Very sorry.” “Will you weep and beg me for forgiveness dramatically?” she teases. “I’ll make it dramatic as fuck,” he says, she pokes his cheek, he laughs and pulls her hair. “I’ll see you after school,” she tells him. Melissa is sitting in the library during lunch. Since she’s been fired at the bookstore, she’s had no way to be around so many books. She likes the quiet, she likes looking at them, and books make her happy. There’s so much effort around her, so much love; author’s babies. So much better than human babies. She’s eating a cup of strawberry yogurt with honey granola, scrolling on her phone, praying the day ends soon. She turns around when she feels someone tap her shoulder. “What, James?” she sighs. He sits down next to her, she can’t believe she ever used to disrespect herself for him. “What’s going on with you, Mel?” he asks, fingering the material of his sweater. “Nothing,” she says, already bored to death. “Dude, like, Emily was talking so much shit about you.” “Okay.” “Jenna defended you, saying that, like, you’re in love or something,” he says, confused. “You’re fucking that new kid?” “Oh my god, why is everyone, like, so obsessed with me?” Melissa says. “Literally who cares what I do.” “Uh, I do? Like, obviously. Were we not trying to work things out?” “Uh, no,” she mimics, taking another bite of her yogurt. James looks down briefly at her lips, she licks the plastic spoon seductively. “I literally said we should take a break and that I needed to be single.” “Are you deadass? A break implies working things out.” “James, you're literally boring me to death,” Melissa says quietly, putting her head down on the table. “He doesn’t even play lacrosse, he doesn’t do shit,” James argues. “What the fuck do you see in him? Mel, we were together for, like, years.” “Uh-huh.” “You’re the only girl I’ve ever loved, bro. Why’re you doing me like this?” “Aw.” “I even asked my parents what they know about his family,” James says. “I just wanted to see what I was up against.” “So, what did they say?” she asks, curious. “Apparently his dad is a pretty chill guy, I don’t know, that’s just what my dad said. His dad does investments or some shit. His mom’s family is like, loaded. Like evil shit. Illuminati type of shit. She had, like, a psychotic break, though.” “What does that mean?” “I don’t know, just that she lost her fucking mind, and Townes was sent to boarding school. That’s weird as fuck, right?” Melissa smiles, none of this is that weird for these types of people. “Not really, James.” “Of course you’d say that, you’re fucking him.” “I mean, like, it’s just really not that weird. People have psychotic breaks all the time,” she says. “Even I had one.” “Is that what this is right now, Mel? A psychotic break?” Melissa thinks, no, it’s not psychotic, but it’s love, it’s love, it’s love, it’s love. It’s true love. La la la. “No. I’m just living life.” “Let me take you out,” he begs with a smile. An All-American boy so used to getting his way. “No.” “You really don’t miss me? Like at all?” “No,” Melissa laughs. “We have class.” James carries Melissa’s bag for her, they walk together in silence to their next class, she continues to text Townes, who isn’t responding. Townes is sitting at the kitchen island with his head down, his cheek pressed against the countertop. He wonders why coke has to be so good, yet so bad. His head is pounding. It’s a different type of pain than a hangover, this can’t be cured with hot coffee or water or sleep. He feels like a crackhead, he's fiending bad. “You good, Townie?” Bella asks, wiping down the appliances. “My head,” Townes says, pathetically. “I can make you some tea,” she offers. He doesn’t need tea, he needs more cocaine. This is why he started drinking so much in the first place, to stop these yayo cravings. He needs a distraction. “Is Nora still at school?” he asks. “Ew, yeah. Why?” “I haven't seen her in like, years.” “Yeah, she’s in the spare house now.” “The fuck,” he says. “Since when?” “A little bit. You’ve basically exiled her. I don’t even fuck with her anymore.” Melissa walks into the kitchen, Bella’s wiping down the fridge, Townes is rotting on the counter. She drops her bag on the floor loudly and eyes them both. “Hey,” Bella smiles. Melissa doesn’t know how to feel about Bella. The girl is nice to her, and isn’t annoying like Nora, but she hates seeing her with Townes. Bella seems genuinely happy for Townes and Melissa, and this is shocking. How could someone be happy for anyone but themselves? Melissa has never felt like that for anyone but her sister. And now Townes. Melissa ignores her, distracted by the body of her lover in such a terrible state. “What’s wrong with you?” She stands next to him and kisses his cheek lightly. He looks like a puppy, she smiles softly. He grabs her hand, playing with her fingers, the action comes so naturally, as though his hands cannot do anything but seek hers. Drawn together by magic. Bella watches the couple, it’s impossible not to. They don’t notice her watching, they don’t notice anything else but each other. Bella loves Townes, she loves seeing him happy. Bella remembers laughing when she first met Melissa. The girl is horrible, gorgeous, but horrible. Mean to all of the staff, cruel to Nora. Bella thought, oh, she’s perfect for him. Bella loves them together. She’s known Townes for years, and even though she’s not been around that many wealthy children, she’s never met someone so bored with himself. So bored with their own life. Bella calls it rich boy ennui. All Bella has ever tried to do is make him happy, that’s all everyone tries to do, staff or not. The only time she’s seen him happy was when he was being evil. Bella knows that this is what he does, it's his true calling, his gift. Townes destroys things. She hopes that he won’t end up hating Melissa, no one ever survives that. She lets out a breathy laugh to herself, it’s all so dramatic, but it’s true. Townes destroys things.

Chapter Forty-Two

Melissa is searching online for a dress, she’s scrolling through different websites using one hand, playing with Townes’ hair with another. His head is resting on her lap, he’s miserable. Melissa swears to never let him around coke again, she hates how he was acting. She’s still sore from what happened in the bathroom, even after her bath. “Were you molested as a child, Townes?” Melissa asks, she’s been wanting to know this for a while. “What the fuck,” he murmers. “Were you?” “No.” “Did anyone, like, touch your private parts?” “No, Melissa.” Townes feels like it’s a fair question to ask, he too has tried to find an explanation for his touch aversion. He wants to tell her that he wants her, he does, just not her touch. He wants to apologize. His head pounds harder. “Townes?” “What?” “Can you pick what dress I wear?” she asks, shyly. She wants him to dress her like a doll, she’s so tired of making decisions for herself. Melissa has taken care of herself for so long, she’s tired. She thinks she might be finally worn, and now she’s allowed to be, she has Townes. He smiles, enjoying what she’s asking him. “Yes,” he agrees. There’s something else she wants to bring up, but she’s too scared to hear the answer. She wants to know if they’re boyfriend and girlfriend. She thought by now he would have said something, but they’ve never talked about it. In her head, they’ve been dating since the tenth time they fucked. She wonders if he feels the same. He doesn’t actually like you, Melissa. Why would he? Cheap. Whore. Trashy. Good for nothing but a warm place to stick a di— “I need beer,” he says suddenly, interrupting her sickening thoughts. “What?” she asks, startled. “I need beer,” he groans. “I can get some,” she informs, Snat has tons. “From where?” “Paul can take me.” Townes decides to sit outside while he waits for Melissa to return. Everything is starting to die, there’s no bugs, no lawn clippings attacking his face. No gnats. Only the smell of night, resting in the pale moonlight. The night feels like it's sighing with him. Townes feels like that endless black sky, irritated by Melissa’s stars. He sits alone, nestled between the tired forest, no idle talk, no witnesses. He knows it perfectly well, he dreamed her existence. It was all of those times as child he wished for something to care about, and care about him in return. And it's the way she kisses him back. As evil and sinister as the night sky seems, it is being undone by its own stars. He is frightened and doubtful, he doesn’t want to admit it yet. He thinks of his mother. He thinks of his drugs. Everything he loves has a tendency to disappear. Nora is watching Townes from her window. She feels so sorry for him. Poor Townes. He looks more miserable than ever. She knows it has something to do with Melissa, that girl is just not good for him. Not good at all. Maybe she’s made a terrible mistake in moving into the spare house. She should be near him, even if it kills her. She made a promise to herself all those years ago to watch over him, be with him always. A sort of guardian angel. Nora had just finished masterbating to him, she was picturing his beautiful face in her head as she touched herself. She always felt shame after finishing, like she was doing something wrong. God, please forgive me, or just smite me, I deserve it, she thought. She’s not sure if masturbating to the thought of someone without their consent is immoral. She’s even more ashamed to admit that listening to him have sex also gave her a terrible urge to touch herself, it was so easy to imagine that she was the one Townes was fucking. Nora really, really tried to like Melissa. In all honesty, she still is trying. Nora could learn so much from her, but she knows it’ll never happen. At least Townes has a reason to be mean, he hasn’t really had the easiest life. She only remembers seeing him cry once, years ago, when they were both still so small and so young. He wasn’t the same after that. Sociopath was a word she heard being thrown around a lot during his childhood. She never believed it though, how could she? Even though it’s true that Townes went from being spoiled and a little mean, to absolutely awful. Nora blames herself for him changing so suddenly, so drastically. She feels like she messed up somewhere, somehow. Taking his cruelty is her way of repenting. Melissa is ruining everything though. That girl isn’t capable of love. All she talks about is herself, her hair, her makeup. Melissa is the most vapid girl she's ever met, and Nora grew up in New England, so that’s saying something. This has been the first time Nora felt like she was betraying feminism. Girls are always being judged for their sexual habits, they fear being called easy, sluts, whores, thots. But Melissa is all of those things. Townes may not notice it, but Nora does. The way Melissa flaunts her body for everyone to see, especially for men. It’s sickening how much she caters to the male gaze. Talk about ten steps back for feminism and self-respect. She thought that Townes would’ve wanted a virgin, someone inexperienced, and pure, like her. Everything Melissa wears is so short, so tight, so slutty. Fine, Nora can admit, she’s a bit jealous. She had thought that Bella was the most beautiful girl she’s ever seen, but then she laid eyes on Melissa. It was hard enough seeing him prefer Bella’s company, but he’s put Melissa on a pedestal. Despite her beauty, what does he see in her? The girl doesn’t seem very intelligent, she has a nasty attitude, she’s also just incredibly displeasing to be around. Melissa is everything that he hates. And, yes, Nora knows what he hates and what he likes. They grew up together. No one will ever know him like she knows him. The sex must be amazing, she figures. That must be all he’s getting out of this. Nora decides, enough is enough. She starts re-packing her bag to move back into the main house. Melissa doesn’t get to win and destroy everything Nora’s worked to build.

Chapter Forty-Three

It’s Saturday morning, Townes is on his third beer as he half-heartedly listens to Christine over the phone. “You have an appointment at Prada to be shown their new men’s ready-to-wear collection, there’s a cake testing, uh, gimme just a sec. What else, what else. Oh! Your suit is ready, so we’ll try that on again today to see if it needs any more alterations…” Townes can’t concentrate, he’s watching Melissa drink a beer. Melissa hates beer, but Townes told her that he didn’t want to drink alone. He likes the faces that she’s making, he likes that she’ll do things that she doesn’t like, just for him. He made a ‘Cool Girl’ monologue reference, she tried to suffocate him with a pillow for that. “I’ll never go to Hooters, or Buffalo Wild Wings. Or watch football. And stop referencing Gone Girl you freak,” she had said passionately. “Wait, Christine,” Townes interrupts. “Yes?” “Why do I have to go to a cake tasting?” “Grace requested your presence,” Christine reports. “What the fuck, Christine,” he says, flabbergasted. “Why?” “Your guess is as good as mine. I already told her that you'll be there.” “Why would you tell her that?” “Why wouldn’t you want to taste test cake?” Melissa is all alone. She feels a little buzzed from the two beers she had, but mostly she just feels sick. Townes invited her to tag along with him today, but she didn’t want him to feel overwhelmed by her tantalizing, feminine presence. She fears that her novelty will wear off and he’ll throw her away. Absence makes the heart grow hornier, or whatever that saying is. She’s also hungry, drinking on an empty stomach is, like, so dumb. Melissa is more comfortable to leave his room now that she is slightly drunk. As she descends the stairs, she hears the tv playing in the living room. There’s a rat on the couch. Nora is eating plump little grapes that mirror her own round, plumpness. “Good morning,” Nora beams. Nora is such a piece of work. A blobby, ugly, annoying, pathetic, disgusting, piece of work. What a cunt. Melissa walks to her and sits down on the couch directly beside her, enough to make Nora uncomfortable by the closeness. There’s a certain horror to be found in such closeness. “Are you not staying in the other house anymore?” Melissa asks. “Nope,” Nora says, plopping a grape into her mouth. There’s something different about her. “Do you have a humiliation kink?” Melissa knows that she must, why else put up with this? “Nope.” The one word answers make Melissa sink her nails into the couch. Melissa gets up and goes into the kitchen. She grabs a bag of chips and rips it open into a bowl, joining Nora back on the couch. Melissa takes one bite and purposefully drops the bowl on the carpet, chips fly everywhere. “Could you clean it?” Melissa asks Nora. But it doesn’t leave her mouth as a question, oh no, it’s a statement. And because Nora is still that spineless little rodent, she does clean it, picking up the greasy pieces of chips one by one with pudgy, child-like hands. Melissa leans back further into the couch, watching her. “Here,” Nora says, trying to hand her the bowl. “Why would I want that? They were on the floor, Nora. That’s fucking disgusting.” Nora hates her. More than anything in the world. “You can have some of my grapes,” Nora offers. “You know, Nora,” Melissa starts. “You can try to do the all-grape diet, you can even starve yourself to death, but it won’t change anything. When you’re alone praying like a retarded child that someday Townes might pick you, just remember that it’s always going to be me. Always. And if you don’t believe that then you’re dumber than you look. You can try to become some second-rate version of me, but you could never actually be me. I’m a work of God. And you’re just an ugly girl Nora, fat or skinny.” Melissa stands and rips the bowl of grapes out of Nora’s hands and pours all of them on the floor. “You can clean those up, too.” Melissa’s back in Townes’ bed now, silently fuming. Later, when he walks through his door, expecting to be showered in love and affection, Melissa will rip him a new one. Townes walks into the house a few hours later, Paul is carrying four large Prada shopping bags behind him. “Where do you want these?” Paul asks, huffing and puffing. “Leave them outside my room.” Townes rushes up the stairs, the house is eerily silent, normally Melissa would be watching a show or listening to music. She doesn’t sit in silence like him. He walks in the room, Melissa looks, well, he’s never seen this look on her. “Are you all just laughing at me, Townes?” she says, her eyes welling up with tears of frustration, or hate, he can’t say for certain. Melissa knows that she’s a crier, she’s weaponized her tears. But she’s done it so often that now she can’t control it anymore, everything makes her cry. “What?” he asks, closing the door. “I hate it here,” she tells him. “No you don’t.” “I do. You allow me to be disrespected constantly.” “What the fuck are you talking about, Melissa?” “Nora and Bella.” “Jesus christ,” he sighs. “What about them?” Can’t he read her mind? What kind of lover can’t sense what’s wrong? Maybe because he’s not in love. Maybe she’s right, it is all one big joke to him. “Fuck you, Townes.” “Okay. You’re fucking insane. Can’t even use your words. Retarded as fuck.” “I hate it here and I hate you.” “Oh, do you?” Townes starts gathering all of her shit, he takes armfuls of her clothing, opens the door, and throws everything downstairs. Next, he takes all of her products and throws them downstairs. Her shampoo bottle almost hits Paul in the head. “Townes, stop,” she says. He ignores her, grabbing more clothes and throwing them. Finally he heads toward her makeup station at his desk. “Don’t,” she threatens. He doesn’t care, he grabs as much of her makeup as he can hold. She’s grabbing at his hands, he blocks her. Melissa flinches when she hears her pallets, blushes, and bronzers crack on the hardwood floor. “I’m going to kill you.” “Or you can just get the fuck out.” Melissa stares at him for a few seconds, then turns and leaves him in the room. Paul is standing in the middle of all of her belongings. Her makeup is absolutely destroyed. “Fuck, Paul,” Melissa cries. Paul isn’t around crying girls much, he proceeds with caution. He figures that you must approach a crying girl like you would approach a nuclear disaster. Melissa is Chernobyl, and Paul’s good-will and wisdom is the hazmat suit. “I’ll grab a few people to help clean this up,” he tells her sympathetically. Melissa sits down on top of her clothing, running a finger over all of the smashed powder. This is how Townes spots her, so small, so sad. He rolls his eyes, but ultimately cannot handle the sight for very long. He sits down next to her. “I’ll buy you more makeup,” he tells her. “Will you show me what you bought at Prada?” she asks. “Yes.” “Will you fire Bella and get rid of Nora?” “Yes,” he says, without any hesitation. Then, suddenly, beautifully, Melissa knows that it’s love. It’s always been love. She looks around at all of her belongings thrown around the floor, and instead of feeling hate or anger, she feels love. Only someone who loves you would care enough to do something like this. Melissa grabs Townes’ face and kisses him, laughing when they both fall over. “I’m the sweetest girl in the world, Townes,” she breathes. “And you’re crazy.” Townes looks down at her as she lies on her back, he sweeps the hair out of her face. Paul walks back in, a few staff with him.When Townes notices they’re being watched he stands up, taking Melissa with him back to his room. He tells her to wait there, and goes back down to find Paul. “Are you sure?” Paul asks. “Obviously I’m fucking sure,” Townes says to the idiot. “So, Nora is no longer allowed inside the main house? And you want Bella fired?” “How about, Paul,” Townes begins. “Instead of repeating what I just said like a moron, you just go do it. Stop wasting everyone’s fucking time.” Townes turns to go back to Melissa in his room, he finds her on his bed looking terribly sleepy. He wonders how she’s so forgiving, so understanding. In his darkest moments, he fears that she’s only with him because she has nowhere else to be. He sits down next to her and asks, “What’s your biggest fear?” Melissa doesn’t say anything at first, she can’t. This is one thing she doesn’t want to share with him, with anyone. It’s bad luck speaking your fears out loud. “No, Townes,” she says quietly. Townes leans down, gently grabbing her face with his hand, kisses her cheek, and then her lips. She knows that he’s manipulating her. “Tell me,” he says. She runs a hair through his hair. “Not this.” “Please.” He kisses her again. Love requires sacrifice, she tells herself. She closes her eyes. “I don’t want to be stuck in this town forever. I want to go somewhere far away. I want to have my own life.” Melissa feels like she’s just given a confession to a priest. She never thought she would admit this out loud, she hopes he appreciates what she’s just given him. Melissa doesn’t ask him what his biggest fear is, she doesn’t believe that Townes could be afraid of anything. He’s perfect.

Chapter Forty-Four

“I need a milkshake,” Melissa announces. “Tell Paul,” Townes replies, typing an essay. He discovers that pouring vodka into his coffee is not helping him with his homework like he thought that it would. It’s also extremely repulsive, but after three cups he finds that it all just starts to taste like nothing. He should have used Baileys. The words on the page are becoming blurry, his eyelids feel like they’re being dragged down to hell. “No. I want to sit there and drink it,” she tells him. He looks at her like he wants to strangle her. She wouldn’t mind if did. “What?” he sighs. “I don’t super mind take-out milkshakes, but they’re way, way yummier if you sit down and drink them.” Townes’ eye twitches at her grammar, he blinks at her. “It’s 10 pm.” “I love milkshakes, Townes.” She packs her little bag. It’s only big enough to fit a lip gloss, and maybe one xanax. Melissa doesn’t have any xanax, nor would she ever, but she assumes that’s all it can fit. Townes asked her before why her bag is so small. She knows it’s something a boy could never understand. She told him to stay in a man’s place. He just sighed dramatically. The next thing Townes knows he’s in the back of the car with Melissa going to the diner to get a fucking mikshake. It’s pitch black and raining hard, the sound of the rain and the car and the vodka coffee sloshing around in his stomach is lulling him to sleep. He blames his sleepiness and drunkenness on the monumental mistake he’s made. “We should go somewhere else,” he tells Melissa before they go inside. “Townes, get a grip. They make the best milkshakes.” Melissa hops out of the car and runs inside, covering her head with her hand. He watches Paul drive away and quietly prays that Dolly isn’t working tonight. Melissa sits at one of the booths, Townes is across from her, carefully looking around. It smells like wet dog and old french fries. Melissa’s hair is in a sleek low bun, she’s wearing no makeup. Townes is always shocked by how good she looks. Prettiest girl in the world, he thinks. He wonders if she would like to be taken out on a real date, this is just embarrassing for them. “I already know what I want,” Melissa says smiling. “Hi y’all, I’m Dolly. I’ll be servin’ y’all tonight.” “Wait, what’s your name?” Melissa asks, her eyes squinting slightly. “My name’s Dolly. Oh, hi Townes,” Dolly giggles. Fuck my life. “Well, say hi, Townes. It’s rude not to greet someone,” Melissa says with a smile, dimples on full display, torturing him. “Hi, Dolly.” Dolly looks between them, she’s so confused, but she can’t stop staring at the girl, and then back at Townes. Seeing them together is so disorienting. Dolly has never seen so much beauty in her entire life, especially not in the diner. “What can I get y’all?” she asks sweetly. “Could I get a waitress that doesn’t smell like french fries?” Melissa asks. Townes and Dolly stare at her. “I’m just kidding. Obviously. You smell really good, Dolly.” Dolly giggles, “Thank you. It’s vanilla bean mist.” “Sooo vanilla-y,” Melissa compliments. “I’ll have the strawberry cream dream. Townes will have nothing.” “Alrighty,” Dolly says, gathering their menus. “I’ll be back with your milkshake in a sec!” “So, that’s Dolly,” Melissa smirks. Townes rolls his eyes. If she wants to fight then do it, he thinks. “Yes,” he says. “Do you have a thing for poor girls?” Melissa asks. “They have a thing for me,” he chides. “She’s pretty,” she says. Townes doesn’t know if this is a trap or not. He feels weird. “Okay,” he says. When Dolly comes back, she places the milkshake in front of Melissa, who just stares at it. “Could I have more whipped cream?” she asks. Of course Dolly says yes, with a smile, and leaves again. “There was enough whipped cream,” Townes informs. “You’re drunk, how would you know?” “Okay.” Dolly comes back, and again Melissa stares at it. “Actually, could you add three cherries on top? Three is my lucky number.” “Yeah, of course,” Dolly says, still as sweet as ever. Townes laughs at Melissa. “You’re horrible,” he says. When Dolly comes back, she’s anticipating another request. “Actually, I don’t want it anymore. Let’s go, Townes,” Melissa says, standing up, heading towards the door. Townes doesn’t say anything to Dolly, he just follows Melissa. “I need to tell Paul to come back,” Townes tells Melissa as he sends the text, she’s about to walk out into the rain. She’s ignoring him and opens the door. Townes does not like to be wet, but he doesn’t want her outside at night by herself. Who knows what kind of murderous, unhinged freaks could be roaming around? He wills himself through the door. He sees Melissa walking away, he groans. Townes grabs her arm when he catches up to her. “Get off,” she says. “I’m not going to fight with you in the fucking rain,” he says. It’s too dramatic, too predictable. “We look like wet rats,” she laughs. “No. You look perfect.” He can’t help it, he hates when she insults herself, even if she’s joking. He wants her to see herself the way that he sees her. Melissa jumps on him, his back hits the old brick wall. She kisses him with so much love, Townes gets drunk off of it. Everything is blurry and wet, her tongue meeting his. Up against the wall like nothing else matters. He feels Melissa’s arm being tugged, someone is trying to snatch her bag. It’s a reflex, Melissa pushes the person away. Townes and Melissa both flinch when they hear the crack. They both look down at the same time, there’s a pool of blood leaking from the person’s head. Melissa recognizes the women, it’s the heroin addict from the bathroom. Betty Loo. They don’t say anything. They just keep staring. Townes walks over to the woman’s body and kicks her lightly with the tip of his shoe, trying to see if she’s dead. “Townes, stop,” Melissa says. “I think she’s dead,” he tells her. Neither of them are panicking. “Wait, no she’s not. No, actually, she definitely is.” “Holy shit.” “We should just leave her,” he says. “There’s no cameras here.” “How do you know?” “They’re historical buildings. They can’t have cameras.” This is true, there was a town meeting that ultimately agreed that CCTV is ungodly. Also, no one wanted to pay for the costs of drilling into hundred year old brick and stone walls. And it’s just such a safe, safe town. Bad things don’t happen here. Townes grabs Melissa’s hand and pulls her away. She’s a homeless crackhead, there’s no cameras, no people around, and it’s raining. It’s literally all you need to get away with murder. Townes and Melissa are defrosting in the shower, her face is pressed into the marble wall, he’s behind her. He fucks her so hard that she almost says she’s in love with him. That’s what she’s saying in her head: I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. It’s a maddening repetition. Outloud she says: Fuck, oh my god, Townes, fuck, harder, harder, I’m coming. He’s shampooing her hair after they finish, she turns around and grabs some of the suds from her hair, she puts some on both of his cheeks, he rubs his face on hers, there are bubbles everywhere, when they kiss they taste shampoo. After the long shower, Townes and Melissa are back in his bed. They both go on like nothing happened. Because, without any proof, nothing actually did happen. Melissa is sleeping and Townes keeps typing his essay far into the night. At three in the morning, Townes receives a text. i know what you did It’s from a number he doesn’t recognize, he almost laughs at how boring and cryptic the message is. Naturally, he ignores it and keeps writing. A few minutes later, another text comes in. i could ruin your life. This time, Townes does laugh quietly. He texts back ‘suck my dick’. He knows that there are a lot of people who would want to ruin his life, he just doesn’t care. Why should he? It’s not like he’s done anything illegal. The number texts again, this time a video. Townes clicks on it, he recognizes that it’s from earlier tonight, he sees himself and Melissa making out, he cringes, he watches himself grab her ass, he cringes harder, and then it comes. He sees the crackhead walking up to them, he sees Melissa push her, he sees the woman’s head crack on the pavement. The worst part is when he sees them not doing anything, not caring. Just walking away, hand-in-hand. The video is clear as day, despite the rain. That’s incriminating shit. He rubs his eyes. This is not good. Townes types out ‘what do you want?’ and hits send. $500 i’ll text you an address where you can drop it off. if you don’t, i’ll send the video to the police. also i will be watching so don’t try to catch me. Townes personally would’ve asked for way more. He instantly doesn’t respect this freak. They’re probably just fat and bored. Obviously poor as fuck if they think that five hundred is a lot of money. Of course he’s irritated that he’s being blackmailed, but he’s more worried about Melissa. He’s not going to tell her about this, but he will protect her. Whatever amount they want, he will pay.

Chapter Forty-Five

Melissa wakes up alone, sort of. Townes left her five hundred dollars next to her pillow with a note saying that he’ll be back soon, she smiles at his handwriting. He figures that whatever the blackmailer wants, he’ll match it for Melissa. It’s fucking poetic. It’s romantic. She lazily runs a hand over the money, it makes her think of her sister. Melissa realizes that she hasn’t visited Bea in a while. She hasn’t wanted to leave paradise. Today she will have to go. Townes drops a little envelope of cash off at the location the blackmailer sent, and goes on with his day. That is, until he receives another text from the number. next time, bring $20,000 cash. or say buy to your freedom **bye Townes almost thinks it’s a joke when he reads the text. The misspelling is so embarrassing. He’s getting blackmailed by a fucking illiterate loser. How is this fair? This person is clearly a lunatic. He also knows he can’t afford that. Not with his parents continuing to leave him in the trenches of poverty. He has no idea how he’s going to get twenty grand. He supposes he could sell some of his things, or steal money from his father, but all of that is so much effort, so beneath him. He hopes this person knows that they can’t hide forever. He texts back ‘i need a few days to get it’. What a greedy pig. Townes knows that you're not technically supposed to return to the crime scene, but he’s curious. He’d like to know if the crackhead was pulled away in a body bag or the rats in the alley ate the boney body. Dolly is clearing a table when he walks in, she smiles when she sees him and smooths down her hair with both of her thin hands. “Hi, Townes,” she greets happily. “Hi, I w—” “Was that your girlfriend last night?” She cuts him off. He blinks slowly. What a disgrace. “What?” “That girl you were with last night, is she your girlfriend?” She winks at him. He wonders how someone can be so nice, so sweet all the time. Probably because she isn’t very smart, he guesses. “No,” he tells her. Melissa isn’t his girlfriend. But should she be? It feels so childish, so beneath them. But does she want to be his girlfriend? He’s angry at Dolly for bringing up these thoughts. “Last night,” he continues. “Was there any, like, dead crackheads in the alley?” He cringes at his lack of subtlety, but Townes has never had to deal with something like this. Who knows the proper way to discuss murder without incriminating yourself and your girl? “Oh! Ya heard about that? Betty’s not dead. She slipped. It was pourin’ last night, remember? Last I heard she’s just dealin’ with a percussion. She’ll be fine, she’s a fighter.” “A percussion?” He stares at her. “Do you mean a concussion?” “Oh, ya!” she giggles. “That’s what I meant.” “So she’s not dead?” he asks. “Nope!” she smiles. “Thank god. Dead people are so sad.” Townes now believes crackheads are like cockroaches, impossible to kill. He should’ve known. “I’m leaving,” he tells her. “Have fun scraping food off dishes.” “Always a pleasure, Townes!” Dolly laughs. Melissa is back from visiting Bea, she feels weird after. This time, Melissa barely made it through the back door before Bea was pushing her out. “Not now, Lissy,” she had told her. Her sister swore nothing was wrong, but she did notice a strange discoloration around Bea’s neck. Her sister said that it was a poison ivy rash, but how believable is that? They swore no secrets, ever. Sisters don’t keep secrets. She wonders if she’s made a terrible mistake leaving her at that house.

Chapter Forty-Six

Melissa is depressed. She’s not going to be a good girl this week. Townes has been acting differently, at night she dreams of killing him and then herself. She wants their blood to mix; together for eternity. He won’t have a chance to grow tired of her. They can explore the afterlife together, vengeful and glorious, haunting each other. Townes is always on his phone, ignoring her. Tormenting her. Since Townes is being the worst person on the planet, Melissa decides that she too will be the worst person on the planet. Melissa is in history class, Emily keeps staring at her with her droopy eyes. Emily’s forehead is soft and mushy, like raw puff pastry. She wonders if the excess fat that’s gathered on her forehead has impacted Emily’s ability to mind her business. Everyone should have a life of their own, Melissa thinks. Melissa imagines making a little indent with her thumb into Emily’s soft skull, something to remember her by. When the teacher steps out of the classroom to get himself more coffee, she feels a demon enter her body. “What the fuck do you keep looking at?” Melissa asks Emily loudly, other students’ heads snapping up. “Nothing,” Emily says, twiddling her thumbs. What a pussy. What a little baby. Melissa gets up from her desk and walks over to Emily. “If you keep staring at me, I will fuck you up.” “I wasn’t even staring,” Emily retorts, her eyes wandering around to see who’s watching. “Hey, Trevor?” Melissa calls. “What’s good, Mel?” he asks, dropping his pencil on the paper in front of him. He smiles at her like a dumb dog looking to please. “Do pepperonis still make you sick?” Melissa asks. “They make me sick as fuck,” he answers, some students laugh. The best way to hurt someone is through public humiliation. She wants Emily to feel like a circus animal, a freak, an oddball. She wants her to feel small and fragile. “You’re a bitch, Melissa,” Emily says, her face red and hideous, her forehead rippling like gravy as she talks. “Do you think I’m a bitch, Trevor?” Melissa asks. “Nah,” he disagrees. “You’re dope.” Trevor tried to get with Melissa before, a number of times. This was after he started fucking Emily. He probably thought he could fuck his way through her friend group, sample each of them, see which flavor he liked best. Once she and James started dating, Melissa was off limits completely. She never understood loyalty until she met Townes. When she was dating James she never technically cheated, but she did still flirt with a few boys, just a little bit. She figured that in case they broke up, she would have options. Now, every boy but hers disgusts her. “Why are you silent, Emily?” Melissa asks. “I heard you have a lot to say about me.” “I can say whatever I want,” Emily argues. “Okay, then say it to my face.” When the teacher walks in with a steaming white mug that’s covered in tiny bananas, Melissa goes back to her seat. “I like the bananas on your mug, Mr. Pearlman,” Melissa says, tucking her hair behind her eyes. “Oh! Why, thank you, Melissa.” In English, Emily is close to tears. She never wanted to make an enemy out of Melissa, but now she knows that it’s too late. They will never be friends again. She watches Townes and wonders what he sees in Melissa. It’s not a secret that Melissa’s pretty, everyone's always telling her how fucking pretty she is, but don’t guys value intelligence? Emily isn’t too bad looking, she gives amazing blowjobs, plus she’s smart. A new wave, post-modern, genius. She's a girl boss. Way smarter and driven than Miserable Melissa. Doesn’t that count for something? Townes is intelligent, and quiet. He has long, noble fingers; an indication of superior breeding. They would feel so good inside of her. Him and Melissa don’t make sense at all. They’re all silently working on their project, he looks beautiful under the dusty sunlight. This is probably how humans feel about seeing an angel fall from heaven. Every class she watches him silently, with a sort of vacant look in her eyes, as though possessed by the vision of him. “Townes,” Emily whispers. “Yes,” he says uninterested, continuing to do his work. “You know Melissa fucked half the school, right?” He looks up then, her heart stops. She’s never had his full attention before. “Name them,” he tells her, closing his laptop. Of course Emily had just told a lie, spun a little tale, she can’t actually name them. As far as she knows Melissa’s only fucked James. No matter, she can make-up names. “Trevor, Evan, Christopher F, Christopher B, James, obviously, Jonah, Nick—” Emily’s voice goes higher when she says James’ name, she can’t conceal how much she’s still hurt over it. Melissa is a crush stealer, a soul eater. A heartless bitch. Emily had the biggest crush on James, she liked him first, and then suddenly he was dating Melissa. It was the first betrayal she’d ever known. “I get the point,” he says, cutting her off and opening his laptop back up. He starts to type again. Emily hopes that they break up, or at least fight. She briefly hopes that Townes is secretly abusive and decides to beat Melissa. She needs to be humbled for once in her miserable life. Emily regrets that thought immediately after, Melissa’s evilness must have rubbed off on her. As much as she hates Melissa right now, she would never wish that on anyone. Townes walks into the library and finds Melissa eating yogurt, he smiles the moment he sees her. He reaches in front of her and grabs the yogurt and plastic spoon from her hands, and finishes the rest. “I was so hungry, Townes.” She rests her head on a stack of textbooks, he runs a hand across her cheek lazily. She’s the softest thing that he’s ever touched. “I learned something about you today,” he says ominously. She’s in no mood to play games. Very well then, she thinks. He learned something. How interesting, how cool. She just looks at him. “You fucked half the school?” he asks with a smile. He knows that she didn’t, Melissa’s a good girl. “No,” she says, bored. “Who told you that?” “I forgot her name.” “Emily?” “Yeah, her.” She feels her temper flare. Melissa walks quickly to the dining hall, Townes stays in the library. Melissa sees Jenna, James, Emily, and a few other blobs sitting around a table. She hears them all laughing at her. Staring and pointing and laughing and as if they're so much better than her. They’ve never experienced genesis. They could never hurt her in a way that matters. She is made in His image and they're just laughing at her. And how dare they make jokes at her expense. Imagine being needlessly cruel to someone so divine. “Hey, Mel!” Jenna says, nibbling on a carrot stick, trying to make it last. “You’re a jealous, ugly, cunt,” Melissa says to Emily. “Talking shit about me to my fucking boyfriend like he wouldn’t tell me. You’re weird as fuck for that.” “Em, that is kind of weird,” Jenna says. “That’s literally her boyfriend.” “He’s your boyfriend?” James asks. “Since when?” “James,” Melissa says. “Emily snorted coke off of your friend's micro-penis. She literally licked the rest of the powder out of his pubes. And she used to touch herself thinking about you almost every night.” Jenna drops her carrot stick. “Jenna,” Melissa smiles. “Emily fucked Brandon, by the way. Like, a lot. Also, you look skinny as fuck.” That’s the last thing she says before walking back to the library, back to the love of her life. The only person who gives a fuck about her in this big, horrible world. Her king. Her god. Her only purpose. Jenna has been in love with Brandon since freshman year. High school drama, such fun, when you speak, mind your tongue. Of course, no one had actually been laughing and pointing at Melissa. Love does strange things to the mind.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Over the past few days, Townes had acquired almost fifty grand. It hasn’t been a difficult acquisition process, in fact, it’s laughable how easy it's been. All he had to do was travel to his father’s home, open his unlocked safe, and grab four ten-thousand dollar bands, and leave. His father will notice, eventually, but hopefully by then it won’t matter how much he’s stolen. His father will probably be on a honeymoon with his pregnant whore, hand feeding her grapes or some shit. For Melissa’s birthday, he’ll give her twenty thousand dollars. Him and Melissa don’t see each other often lately, even though they live in the same house. She feels miles away from him. But he’s been dealing with a blackmailer, something she could never understand. He’s stolen for her, lost so much money, just for her to ignore him. Perhaps the gift he holds in his hand will make her happy again. When he walks into his bedroom, she does not greet him. Maybe it’s a trick of the light, but he swears she even rolls her eyes. He talks himself out of murdering her. “Who the fuck are you looking at like that?” Townes asks, frustrated. “Leave me alone,” she says, going back on her phone. He takes a deep breath. “I bought something for you.” Melissa looks up slowly, she tries to look uninterested, but Townes knows her. “For me?” she asks. He walks over to the bed and places the bag for her. Before she has a chance to grab her gift, he pulls it away. She looks up at him. He walks back to his door, leaning on it. “If you want it,” Townes says. “You could crawl to me.” “I’m not crawling,” she breathes. But she does want it. Terribly. Melissa slides off of the bed onto her knees. She crawls to him slowly. She kneels before him, resting her head on his leg, running a hand over the fabric of his pants. “I want it, Townes.” He bends down to grab her face with both of his hands and kisses her. “Here,” he says, handing her the bag. Melissa rips into her gift like a child on Christmas morning. Melissa stands, pulling out the most beautiful dress that she’s ever seen. She hugs it to her chest. Her eyes water, tears of love. “I love it,” she whispers. “You love it?” he repeats, annoyingly. She can't contain her smile. “And y—” she almost admits, she pushes him up against his door, kissing him instead of saying it. “What were you going to say?” he smiles against her lips. “Nothing. Thank you. I love it,” Melissa sighs happily. “I thought you were getting tired of me.” Townes is confused. How could he ever tire of Melissa? This is the first time in his life that he’s thinking about the future. It used to be all black but now there’s pink glowing through the cracks of nothingness. “Never that,” Townes tells her. He’s starting to dream again. Melissa and Townes are in bed, he’s doing homework, she’s pretending to do homework. This entire week she thought that he was going to break up with her. She was waiting for it, any day now. They need to work on their communication skills, she realizes. “I’ve been sad,” she says. “Are you really not sick of me?” “Why would I be sick of you?” he asks. “You’ve just been different.” “I’m stressed.” “I’m a stress reliever,” she chimes. He laughs at her. “No, you’re not,” he says. “If you’re stressed we can smoke weed. I can get some,” she offers. “I don’t need to smoke weed, Melissa,” Townes says. “I need a fucking perc.” Melissa thinks that they could just have sex, but he hasn’t had anything to drink tonight. Fucking is the best stress reliever. The words ‘fuck me’ have been echoed endlessly throughout time. She knows that no one has ever felt this profoundly and this beautifully for another human being. Everything means nothing but I love you. I’m not very smart and I’m absolutely nothing in comparison to you but I love you. All of the girls who have come before her and all of those that will come after will believe their love to be this pure and true, but they’re wrong. Melissa knows that this isn’t some grand orchestration of the universe, it's not at all random. They were destined for each other. Soulmates don’t stumble across each other sloppily without care, they’re simply meeting again after a moment of terrible separation. She saw him in a dream of a dream, a thousand years ago, and wished for his existence. Melissa sees everything so clearly now. She continues to lie in bed, believing that her love is on par with God, cutting herself open, allowing the rot to leak out, so that he may fill her completely.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Melissa is inspecting her scrambled egg whites, they just don’t seem white enough. Or eggy enough. She suspects that they might be poisoned. She walks to the kitchen, plate in hand. Does this fat bitch think that she can get away with poisoning me? Like mother, like daughter, she supposes. She wonders who cursed their bloodline. Probably someone as beautiful and perfect as Melissa. Now that she thinks of it, she’d like to meet that witch. “Why do they look like this?” Melissa asks, holding out her plate. Miss Agnello eyes the eggs and looks back up at the girl. Miss Agnello does not like Melissa, none of the staff do. She would’ve complained about the girl living here if she didn’t fear what Townes would do in retaliation. She can’t afford to lose this job, she loves it. Cooking is a real passion, she does what she loves everyday. She’s saved for Nora’s college fund, everything she does is for her daughter. But Miss Agnello has a bad habit. She gambles. Her hands twitch to gamble. They’re twitching right now, she’s aching for it. It’s gotten worse lately, she started dipping into her retirement savings just to satisfy her never ending hunger. So, no, she can’t disrupt the balance. Miss Agnello has to let teenagers boss her around. She used to wipe Townes' ass and now shes feeding his evil girlfriend. There’s little respectability in her job, but it pays the bills, keeps her from gambiling her entire life away. “That’s how scrambled eggs look,” Miss Agnello replies. “Can you take a bite of them in front of me?” Melissa demands. Like any good chef, Miss Agnello takes a big bite, chewing thoroughly, her tongue coated in tiny, white egg bits. It reminds her of the days when she used to have some real fun, back when she was young and full of life. She always swallowed. “Yup. Those are some good eggs,” Ms. Agnello booms, eggy paste forming in the corner of her mouth. Before Melissa leaves, empty handed, she turns to Ms. Angello. “Wipe your mouth,” she says to the woman. Townes is still sleeping when Melissa bursts into the room, slamming the door loudly behind her. Townes opens his eyes briefly, wondering what all the commotion is about. How psychotic do you have to be to start the day so loudly? “I’m not a fucking villian, Townes!” Melissa screams. He watches her pace back and forth and sob, his brows furrowed in concern and confusion. “Yeah, because, like, everyone is out to fucking get me and I’ve been nothing but nice!” He realizes that she’s been screaming this entire time, he just hasn’t been listening, he doesn’t know how to handle someone so deranged. “What?” he asks, his voice hoarse from sleep. “You even said that I’m the sweetest girl you’ve ever met,” she cries. “And the prettiest,” Townes adds, his eyes closing. “And stop fucking sleeping when I’m awake. Is there something in your dreams you like better than me?” she asks loudly. Townes sits up and rubs his eyes. “I hate when you sleep when I’m not sleeping.” “Okay,” he says. “Then come sleep with me.” “I don’t feel like having sex right now,” she tells him. Townes squints his eyes. He slowly exhales through his nose. He refrains from calling her stupid, she probably wouldn’t appreciate it in her current bout of insanity. Townes gets up and pulls her back into bed, his room is still dark and cold, clouds swelling in the gray sky. This will pacify Melissa, he hopes. She loves rain. Melissa looks at him, she thinks that Townes looks so cute. His hair messy, eyelids darkened from exhaustion. Tears are collecting on the tips of Melissa’s eyelashes, when she blinks he looks like an oil painting. He pushes her onto her back, using the sheets to wipe her tears. Townes can’t use his bare hands for wiping, tears are too wet, too salty. Melissa understands. They face each other, lying down in bed. She looks sleepy now, crying and psychosis really takes a lot out of you. When Townes turns around to sleep, she knows that he must be cheating on her. What does it say about his love and commitment if he turns his back on her? She crawls on top of him, reaching out to grab his phone from his nightstand. “Townes,” she says, holding his phone in front of his face. He opens his eyes slowly and his phone unlocks. She smiles. “Is that my phone?” “Our phone,” she says, before running inside of the bathroom and locking the door. She hears him telling her not to look through his texts, but that’s actually the first place Melissa looks. Her eyes are drawn to the one number he doesn’t have saved. She reads everything, her hands shake. Townes is sitting on the side of his bed hunched over, his head in his hands. “Townes, you’re so fucking stupid.” “What?” “Please tell me you didn’t actually give them twenty thousand dollars.” “Obviously I did,” he exclaims. “Oh my god,” she sighs, disappointed. He wants to scream. She’s mad at him for protecting her? Ungrateful little bi— “I know who it is,” she tells him. “How?” “Let me handle this.” “No,” Townes says. He doesn’t think that letting a girl handle your messes is admirable. Melissa wouldn’t know the first thing about handling a blackmailer. “I’m going to do it anyway,” she says, flopping down on his side of the bed. “Cuddle me.” Townes is drinking beer, watching Melissa do her makeup. She’s explaining each step of the process, telling him what each of the products is for. She likes her new makeup better because he bought everything that she’s using. The blushes seem extra blushy, the lipstick extra lippy, and the gloss extra glossy. “I’m lining my lips now, see?” Melissa asks. “And then I use this lipstick. Oh, wait. Should I do red lips tonight?” Townes doesn’t know why she’s doing her makeup right now, they have no plans, and they haven’t left his room all day. “Red,” he tells her. He hasn’t seen her in red lipstick before, he’s curious. Melissa listens, applying a deep red to her lips. She walks over to Townes and picks up his hand, she wraps her lips around his middle finger, removing the excess lipstick. Townes stares at the red ring on his skin, it disgusts him. He gets up quickly and washes his hands five times. He hears Melissa giggling. “Okay,” she sings. “I’m going out.” “What?” “I’m going out.” “Where?” “I’m going to confront the blackmailer.” “You don’t even know who it is.” “Yeah, I do. I’m not stupid like you.” “Okay.” Melissa grabs Townes’ face and rubs her nose on his, silly and sweet. Bunny kisses. She doesn’t want to get her lipstick all over him, he would hate that. She looks at him once more before she leaves. No one has ever protected her before. She wants to unburden him and in doing so, burden herself. This is unconditional love. She never thought that love like this could ever be possible for her. As much as she loves her sister, it is a burden to love her. Loving Townes is easy. He expects nothing of her. He exists in everything. They can love in absolute silence. After a long drizzly day, the earth has opened up, misty and chilly. Melissa’s feet are sinking into the soft ground, tiny droplets of water gather on dulling grass. She passes the rose garden, the dark emerald pines gleam, seemingly watching her, wondering what she's doing. The leaves send a chill up her spin. The nip of wind pushes her to walk faster, inhaling the sharp edge of autumn. Melissa knocks on the door three times, she’s freezing and tired from carrying a bottle of wine in her backpack. When the door opens, Melissa smiles. “Hi,” Melissa greets. Nora is briefly shocked into silence, she never thought that Melissa would ever be knocking on her front door. “Yes?” Nora says, guarded and small. Melissa wraps her arms around Nora, hugging her like an old friend. “I’m sorry,” she says, pulling back to look at her. “I’m sorry for what I said before. I know I’ve been a cunt, Nora. No don’t shake your head, I’ve been a cunt. I’ve just been having a lot of family problems, I’ve been taking it out on everyone. I have no friends, everyone hates me. Which makes sense, like, why wouldn’t they hate me? But I think that we could be friends since we, like, basically live together.” Nora must be imagining things. Melissa apologizing? Are pigs flying? “Oh,” she blushes. “I’m sorry that you've been having family problems.” “Aw, thanks,” Melissa says. “Can you hang out with me? I’m sad.” Nora isn’t stupid, she knows she shouldn’t trust Melissa, but her presence is intoxicating. Can proximity to beauty make you beautiful? Nora thinks that it must. “We can go to my room,” she tells Melissa. The girls walk silently upstairs, Melissa looks around. The spare house is cozy, there’s no other way to describe it. She has a few ideas for it when she takes everything from the Agnellos. Nora’s room is horribly plain, just like her. It reflects her dull, nothingness. The lack of beauty offends her. Melissa is the most beautiful thing in the room, she thinks. Nora wishes she could have this much self-love. Melissa makes herself at home, sitting down on Nora’s bed. Nora watches her take a bottle of wine out of her bag. “Have you ever gotten drunk?” Melissa asks mischievously. Of course she knows that Nora hasn’t, she’s a loser, she has no friends. Who gets drunk alone? Townes doesn’t count, because he has serious issues. But Nora has nothing to blame for being a loser. “Oh, um, no,” Nora murmurs. “We should get fucked up,” Melissa smiles. “I can do your makeup if you want?” “That’s, um, I don’t have any makeup. Oh, wait,” she exclaims. “I have chapstick.” Melissa pinches herself to stop from screaming. “That’s not makeup, Nora,” Melissa says. “I brought some in my bag. Sit down at your desk.” Melissa takes out an eyeshadow palette and applies lavender to Nora’s lids. They’re drinking out of plastic cups, the wine is sweet, it loosens the tongue. “You’re so pretty, Nora,” Melissa beams. “I wish I had your eye color.” Nora blushes, she’s never been complimented by someone so beautiful before. Melissa takes out a pair of old tweezers she doesn’t use, and plucks an eyebrow hair. Nora flinches. “Does it hurt?” Melissa asks. “Yes,” Nora says. Melissa grabs Nora’s shoulder, her fake nails sinking into the fat of her skin. “Don’t move.” Melissa continues to pluck, a tear runs down Nora’s face, she wipes it quickly. “It’s supposed to hurt,” Melissa says. “What is?” “Beauty.” Melissa hasn’t been drinking as much as Nora, she doesn’t need to hide herself. Nora is drinking out of guilt, she assumes. “Do you want to talk about Townes?” Melissa asks. “Yes,” Nora says, her tongue loose and unashamed. “Are you in love with him?” Melissa pauses. “Doesn’t everyone love him?” Nora nods her head yes. “I thought that after I fell in love with Townes I would start to love everything, because I see him in everything. But everything that isn’t him is just too dull, too boring, too cold. He’s the perfect temperature. You know?” Nora doesn’t know but she doesn’t want Melissa to know that she doesn’t know so she just says, “Totally.” “Do you want to go to college?” Melissa asks. “Yeah,” Nora answers. “I feel like I can be whoever I want at college. I hate being, like, I don’t know. A bystander in my own life.” “You want a life of your own?” “Yeah. I don’t feel like I exist sometimes. Like I’m just there to move someone else's storyline along. I don’t know. I just feel like an underdeveloped character.” Melissa thinks, you’re a character that’s about to get killed off. “Yeah,” Melissa agrees. “The only time I exist is when Townes is looking at me. I’m nothing alone. I always feel excited when I hear him opening the door.” Melissa begins to apply a pink blush to Nora’s cheeks, they look like golf balls covered in dry skin. “You’re not nothing without him, though,” Nora tells her. “You could exist without him.” Melissa digs her nails further into Nora’s shoulder, who shifts uncomfortably under the sudden and sharp pain. “There’s no me without him,” Melissa says. “He knows that.” “So you would, like, kill yourself without him?” Nora jokes. “Yes,” Melissa admits. Nora’s smile drops. “Life would be too uneventful. Unbearable. I’d probably become hysterical. How do you think I would do it?” Nora doesn’t know if she’s uncomfortable or amazed. There is something malign about Melissa’s influence. Nora feels like she wants to think her darkest thoughts and speak them outloud. She feels free. “Would you hang yourself?” Nora asks, her words slurring from her mouth. “I would probably just overdose. See god and shit before I die. There’s very little dignity in overdosing, though. It’s the most embarrassing way to die.” “Why?” “Because you didn’t mean to. I hate people that flirt with death. If you want to die then literally just die.” Nora thinks she understands but the words are loud and quiet all at once. She is completely drunk. Melissa turns her around. “Look,” she says. “Look how pretty I’ve made you.” And Nora does feel pretty. She stares at herself in awe. This is the best night of her life. “I love it,” Nora says quietly, captivated by her own image. Melissa finds this all to be so boring. No one stares at their own image like she does. Melissa has already fallen in love with her own reflection, since childhood. It’s the reason she loves reflective surfaces so much. Nora could never understand what it’s like to be a true-born beauty. Many people can’t. Melissa refills Nora’s plastic cup, urging her to drink more of the sweet wine with her sweet words. They discuss girly things like their daddy issues and suicidal ideation and the moon. “The moon is feminine as fuck,” Melissa giggles. “Literally my mother.” “Like, the moon is your mother?” “I literally came out of the moon’s vagina,” Melissa smiles. “Where did I come from?” “I don’t know,” Melissa sighs. “Maybe, like, unidentified matter that dropped from space.” “Oh. That sounds cool.” It’s not long until Nora can’t hold her head up, nodding like a newborn baby, Melissa watches her try to fight the sleepiness. “Why are you blackmailing Townes?” Melissa asks. Nora’s head whips up, her eyes widen, she parts her thin, wet lips. “I-I’m not. Like why would you even ask that? I would never—” “Stop, Nora. I’m not mad.” “You’re not?” “No. I’m poor, too. I understand why you did it.” “It wasn’t about the money,” Nora cries, lilac eyeshadow leaking down her face like rotten eggplant. “I just thought h-he w-would break up with you. I-I’m sorry. You’re actually really nice. I’m sorry, Melissa, I’m sorry.” “What phone did you use to text him?” Nora opens the desk drawer, revealing it. “It was my mom’s old phone.” “How did you get a video of us?” “I was at the diner that night. I just w-wanted to study the kissing. That’s it.” “You wanted to study how I kiss my boyfriend?” “Yeah,” Nora sniffs, a thick string of bloody green snot dripping onto her upper lip. She licks it away, Melissa gags. “If you think that’s exciting you should see us fuck,” Melissa laughs. “Did you send it to anyone else?” “No, of course not,” she swears. “I never wanted to hurt him. Just freak him out a little bit. H-he bullied me my entire life.” “Aw,” Melissa says. “And where is the cash he dropped off?” She watches Nora stumble to her bed and lift up her pillow, revealing two thick, white envelopes. Melissa slips the phone into her bag and walks over to the bed, she snatches up the envelopes. “You’re going to wish you were dead, Nora,” Melissa says, before picking up her things, and leaving the fat, drunk girl to weep into her polyester sheets.

Chapter Forty-Nine

Townes isn’t doing well, he's in his feelings. One might call it an episode. He doesn’t like when Melissa leaves because he always thinks that she won’t come back. Each time she walks out of the door it feels like he’s being abandoned, forgotten. There is this terrible fear of being left behind. He’s angry at Melissa for driving him mad. Of course he doesn’t say it, but he feels everything and understands nothing. He believes in her, absolutely he believes in her, but he doesn’t believe in them. These are the darker thoughts that torment his mind when she’s not around. Sometimes he can picture it, their life together in the future, but that image becomes distorted, muddled by her absence. He has never planned on being alive for this long. Townes blames her for making him feel six years old again, for subjecting him to this suffocating loneliness. Everyday he grows more and more attached to her. His hope was to avoid becoming completely lost in Melissa, but now he knows, intimately, how impossible that would be. He feels like he’s been irrevocably damaged in some horrible way. He’s already attended a thousand deaths of himself. This can’t be normal, he thinks. Obviously, Townes is going to sabotage it, he has to. He is nothing if not irrational. All he has left is a bottle of white that he begins to drink in bed until he carries himself to the shower, continuing to get drunk on self-loathing and cheap wine. Townes is completely wasted. He falls twice trying to put on boxers, he feels a wave of nostalgia. He misses her. He stays on the floor, hating himself and Melissa. It’s not love unless you want to die. Yet still, knowing that love was going to kill him, he fell foolishly. The last thing he wanted was to become someone so idiotic, so depraved. She kissed him insane. But doesn’t she see him? Is being loved so horrible? He sees no end in loving her, if it can even be called that. Is this not the terrible fate that Lucifer suffered? Haven’t they both fallen? Melissa can’t wait to open the door to Townes, this is all she looks forward to every day, returning to him. She wants him to be proud of her and tell her how good she’s been. His room is dark and heavy with some nameless energy. She feels immediately unwelcome as she enters, gently placing her bag down. Melissa drops softly to her knees on the floor next to him, preparing herself for the worst. “What’s wrong?” she asks, lazily pushing his hair out of his eyes that are filled with so much resentment she stops breathing. Townes gets up, shakily, ignoring the girl in front of him. He has so many things he wants to tell her, but he can’t speak. “What’s wrong?” she asks again, following him to bed. “I’m so fucking tired, Melissa,” he says, unable to meet her eyes. “What does that mean?” “It means I don’t want this anymore.” Melissa feels like she’s been slapped. “You don’t want me?” her voice cracks. “Why would I want you?” Townes says. “No one’s ever wanted you in your entire fucking life. Why did you think that would change with me?” “Stop being mean to me,” she tells him quietly. She feels like a little girl. She walks to him, bending to whisper in his ear, “No one’s ever wanted you either.” Townes smiles slowly, looking up at her. It’s love. “I missed you,” he says, playing with her hands, tugging her against him. “That was the most pathetic breakup attempt ever,” she scoffs. “Stop it.” She falls on top of him, his hands gripping her waist, sliding towards her ass. “I hate when you leave me,” he admits. Townes knows no shame as her body is pressed against his, he can tell no lies underneath her. He trails kisses from her neck to her jaw, her eyes flutter shut. “Townes,” she says. “If I could crack open your rib cage and live inside of you as one of your vital organs, I would. I wish I could shrink myself down and live in your pocket forever.” Melissa is violently codependent. She wants to carve his name into her skin. Can’t he see how much she loves him? Can't he see that she burns for him? Townes presses his lips to hers and they both laugh. “Also,” she breathes. “Nora was the one blackmailing you.” Townes frowns, trying to wrap his head around what he’s just been told. Here he’s been, nothing but generous to Nora. How dare she throw everything he’s done for her back in his face? Allowing her to live in his home. Allowing her to entertain him. Allowing her to be graced by his presence. Townes is livid. He pushes Melissa off of him, vibrating with anger. “Where are you going?” Melissa asks slyly, knowing exactly what’s about to happen. “Do you want to watch?” he asks, stepping into sweatpants, pulling a sweatshirt over his head. Townes and Melissa go to the kitchen, she can’t stop grinning. Paul and Miss Agnello are chatting about the best types of animal shit for growing produce. “Paul?” Townes calls. “Could you let Miss Agnello know that she’s fired?” The adults laugh at this, like he’s just told a silly, childish joke. Townes tilts his head. “You’re funny,” Miss Agnello chuckles. “I’m not joking,” he says. “Pack your shit, and your daughters shit, and get the fuck out.” Pauls face drops. “Excuse me? That is entirely ina—” “Holy shit,” Townes laughs, turning to Paul. “Get her the fuck out.” Townes leaves the kitchen, unable to stomach the drama and betrayal. He can’t believe it had to come to this. Good riddance, he thinks. Melissa stays in the kitchen, glaring at Miss Agnello. “You shouldn’t have raised such a horrible daughter,” Melissa smiles. “You do not talk about my daughter,” Miss Agnello says, pointing her grubby little finger. Her face is breaking out in red blotches. “You know she’s, like, obsessed with Townes, right? She literally has hundreds of videos of him on her phone. She showed me when she was drunk. Maybe if you cared more about your daughter you would have noticed that she’s off her fucking rocker.” Miss Agnello watches the girl leave, she tries not to cry. “He can’t fire me, Paul,” Miss Agnello rasps. “He doesn’t have the power to do that.” Paul shifts back and forth awkwardly, trying to decide what to say. She searches his face, knowing it’s over. “I’m sorry,” Paul says. “No. No. He can’t do this,” she stresses. “You can’t let him do this to me. This is my entire life, Paul. My entire life. You can change his mind.” Paul almost laughs. Townes listens to no one but himself. And now Melissa. “I’ll help you pa—” “No!” she yells. “That spoiled fucking brat cannot do this to me.” Her voice breaks off into a desperate sob, Paul wraps his arms around her. He doesn’t know how to comfort the women he loves. “Shhh,” he says. “It’s going to be okay. Shhh. It’s all going to be okay.” Paul remembers the first time he saw Miss Agnello, Helen, he should say, as he knows her intimately. Back then, and he didn’t know much, he knew that was the girl he was going to marry. Of course nothing came from their love affair, but Paul held on to hope. Paul could have kept to himself, lived independently, spent the rest of his days driving an evil boy around. But then he found Helen in the kitchen, preparing something or other. He didn’t really know how to handle his attraction so he ignored her. He would smile and wave, of course. Mention the weather or last night's episode of The Price Is Right, what have you. Nothing too obvious. Oh, she was a tiny thing, Helen was. Paul was only a couple years older but he always felt so shy around her. He avoided the kitchen entirely. One day, Townes was home sick and miserable, Paul had nothing to do, nowhere to drive. He sat outside, watching the sunset, playing with his new Rubik's Cube. Helen had walked over to him with a plate of fresh peanut-butter cookies. They talked forever that day. It was the most he’d ever talked in his life. It was also the first time they had slept together. Paul lost his virginity with peanut butter breath and dry skin. They didn’t have sex again for years after that, Paul was confused, of course. Back to reality, he figured. But one day, years later, Helen’s belly started to grow. Getting rounder and rounder. It looked disgustingly out of place on her thin body. He questioned if it was some sort of stomach disease. His heart broke when he discovered she was with child. He was overcome with sorrow to see her carry another man's baby inside of her. He didn’t say anything, of course. He wished her well, hoped she enjoyed motherhood. Mrs. Townes was furious, he remembers. Everyone was expecting that the pregnant chef was getting fired. Paul would have been happy to see her go, the heartache was too painful. He grew suspicious of the other staff, wondering if one of them had knocked her up. One of the gardeners did have a strange fascination with filling holes in the garden with seeds. Oh but everyone was guilty in Paul’s mind. He tried not to think about it too much. A few days after Helen’s baby was born, they had sex for a second time. Paul didn’t want to, it was too soon after birth, he didn’t want to hurt her. Helen begged and begged. Said she wanted to forget the other man and wanted to feel pain. So Paul gave in and stuck his penis inside of her mangled vagina, which came out red afterwards. He remembers it feeling like rubbing a raw oyster on your penis. Of course he had never rubbed a raw oyster on his penis, but he did swallow one whole once, at the Townes’ Christmas party one year. Slimy and fishy, just like his Helen. He grew a love for oysters after that, they tasted and smelled just like her. It was a comforting food. It didn’t last long, Paul hadn’t had sex in years. She told him that it was okay. She thanked him and then sobbed for hours. They would make love often after that, finding some secluded place on the property. They were wild and in love. It filled him with great pride knowing that his semen was leaking out of her while she was cooking. Eventually, the thrill of sneaking around lessened. He wanted to be claimed and acknowledged. No one ever says that the path of love is the easiest route. Townes and Melissa went back down to the kitchen after everyone had left, sitting on the floor. Townes is leaning on the fridge, Melissa is sitting against the island, sliding her bottle of wine between them. “Are you excited for tomorrow?” she teases. The rehearsal dinner. Townes doesn’t want to think about that right now, he wants Melissa to take her dress off. “Come here,” he smiles. Melissa doesn’t wait, she crawls over to him like a dog. “Sit.” She laughs and then sits on her ass, leaning back on her palms. “Roll over.” She laughs again, rolling over once on her stomach, looking back at him. He trails a hand up the back of her thigh, the tips of his fingers grazing between her legs. “Do you want me to bark, too?” she leers. He laughs at her and reaches up her dress, pulling her thong hallway down her legs. He uses his fingers first, positions her on her knees, and slides himself in. Fucking on kitchen floor is not comfortable, but they’re both drunk and unbothered. Townes carries Melissa upstairs in his arms, he apologizes for almost dropping her. Back in his room, she shows him all of the money she got back. They look at the cash together in bed, he throws it all over her, they laugh and fuck again. Drunk and foolish, absolutely in love. Sloppily in love. “I have so many things I want to tell you,” he says. To love is to suffer and there can be no love otherwise.

Chapter Fifty

“Townes, we have to go,” Melissa says. “I can’t.” “Why?” “If I go I will actually kill myself.” “We’re going. I already did my makeup and we’re late as fuck.” “I’ll say we have food poisoning.” “You can’t use that as an excuse for everything.” Townes groans into a pillow, Melissa rolls her eyes. “Can you stop being dramatic and zip up my fucking dress? We literally have to leave.” Townes zips up her dress while thinking of ways he can get violently drunk without it being too obvious. “You can’t drink tonight,” she tells him. Townes stares at her. “Don’t tell me what to d—” Melissa kisses him and adjusts his tie. “Thank you,” he says. “You look perfect.” “You look perfect,” she blushes. Melissa is staring at herself in a little compact mirror, Townes is tapping his fingers on his leg, and Paul is upfront driving them. She doesn’t feel like Townes is nervous, rather extremely irritated to be doing this. She doesn’t know what to do, she just applies more lipgloss. After, she reaches into her bag, looking around. Melissa always has candy with her, just in case she needs something sweet. She pulls out gummy cherries and hands the pack to Townes, who just looks at them. “What are these?” “Chewy cherries.” “Okay,” he says. “Why are they in my hand?” “You’ll like them. They taste so good.” “They’re edibles?” he asks. “No, Townes. It’s just regular candy.” He does not return her smile. Townes hands them back to her, he’s not interested in Melissa’s little, pathetic candies. In fact, he’s not interested in her, period. He’s a pushover, a simp, a loser. Townes decides to start treating Melissa like shit, hopefully to regain some of his dignity. How did it get this bad? When did she start dictating everything in his life? There’s no one left now but Paul. She’s worse than his mother, he realizes. How did he not notice this before? Will she leave him, too? His heart starts beating erratically. She’s going to leave him. Car rides always did tend to send Townes into existential panic. She’s going to leave him and he’ll be alone again and this time it will be worse because he thinks he might actually love her and then he will kill himself. But wouldn’t she like that? He can’t give her that satisfaction, so he’ll suffer indefinitely until God or whatever the fuck decides to kill him. He pictures Melissa moving on, marrying someone else, and settling down. His heart beats faster. How could he live with that? He considers murder-suicide; that would be the most reasonable solution. It wasn’t a long car ride, or maybe it was. Townes is too deep in panic to realize that Paul’s parked the car. “Ready?” Melissa says. What a loaded, stupid-ass question. Ready for what? To be left and heartbroken? He should have Paul drive somewhere secluded and leave Melissa on the side of the road. “What’s wrong?” she asks. Townes rolls his eyes. Of course she wouldn’t understand. It’s always better being the one who leaves than the one being left. “Nothing,” he says, stepping out of the car. The first thing they notice is Grace’s belly, which has grown significantly since Townes last saw her. Townes glares at her, like her existence and unborn child is offending him. Melissa is of course repulsed by the sight as well. She understands his annoyance and shares his disgust. Grace smiles when she sees them, Townes’ father is nowhere to be seen. Townes doesn’t want to be dealing with any of them; he needs to get drunk as soon as possible. The couple look around waiting for Grace to waddle over to them, they watched all of the idiotic hugs and belly rubs and congratulations. Pregnancy makes Melissa extremely uncomfortable, the swell of Grace’s belly makes her look misshapen and deformed. When she approaches, she uses her hand to support the small of her back, looking sweaty and terribly round. “Oh, wow! Look at you two! I’m, like, so, so, happy you made it. Who’s this, Townes?” Grace winks, not mentioning how ridiculously late that they are. “I’m Melissa, his girlfriend.” Townes turns to face Melissa in shock. They’ve never discussed those sorts of things. What makes her think she’s worthy of such a label? Grace squeals in delight. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend! You’re, like, the prettiest little thing ever. Great taste. Like father, like son.” Grace laughs to herself. Melissa forces a smile. “Your feet are swollen,” Melissa notices. Townes likes this about her, that she always speaks her mind and makes people uncomfortable. “Ugh, girl. Pregnancy is literally the worst. But, like, also kinda the best. Like, I’m literally growing a human.” Grace rubs her belly in awe, like she’s really doing something amazing. “Oh, here’s your daddy!” She waves her fiance over, who, like her, looks delighted to see them. “Hey, buddy,” his father grins, his newly shaven head looks like a hard boiled egg. Townes thinks, you might look like an egg, with a hard shell protecting soft and delicate insides, but you’re actually just a middle-aged divorcee with a disgusting, pregnant whore. “Hello,” Townes says, squinting his eyes at the top of his father’s head. “I took your advice,” his father chuckles. “Hair was really holding me back.” Grace snorts at this. Melissa and Townes keep staring until things get awkward. “And who might this lovely lady be?” His father smiles. “I’m Melissa,” she says. “His girlfriend!” Grace gushes. “Aren’t they, like, so adorable. So cute!” “Let’s let the ladies gossip, Townes. Come with me.” Townes thinks, this is it. His father has found out somehow that he's stolen thousands of dollars and he’s about to be sent off to military school. Or worse, rehab. He thinks of every bad thing he has ever done in his life. It’s over for him, he can feel it. “A girlfriend? Good for you, buddy,” his father says, looking proud and surprised. “She’s beautiful, too, huh?” “Yes,” Townes says. “I guess, this is, uh, the part we talk about, um, you know.” “I don’t know, actually.” Of course Townes knows his father wants to educate him on sex, but why should he take advice from someone divorced? That would be like taking advice on how to walk from an amputee whose legs got blown off in the Vietnam War. “Are you, uh, using protection?” His father whispers. “Listen, I’m not saying Melissa is like this, but some girls could take advantage of you. You’re worth too much to fuck, sorry, I mean sleep, with anyone raw. Getting pregnant by you would be like winning the lottery. You understand? If you did knock her up, you’d have to marry her. You’re too young for all that shit. Okay? Just be safe, buddy.” After the talk with his father, Townes pulls Melissa away. He tells her to wait by the chocolate fountain while he goes to look for something. He hopes the bar won’t ID him. Melissa is on her phone when a little human comes up to her. A girl, who can’t be more than seven years old, she guesses. “Hi,” the girl says. “You look like Vanessa.” Melissa glares at the little creature in front of her. “Who?” she asks, annoyed. “Sh-she’s in The Little Mermaid.” “Aw,” Melissa says, going back on her phone, until she feels a tug on her dress. “You are pretty,” the girl says. Melissa uses two fingers to fling the girl's sticky hand off of her. “You’re supposed to look and not touch,” Melissa says. “It’s art.” “I like your hair,” the girl giggles. “Thanks, girl,” Melissa says, looking around for Townes. She feels relieved to see him walking towards her with two drinks in his hand, even though she told him that he’s not supposed to drink tonight. “Here,” he says, handing her a strawberry mojito. “A-are you her boyfriend?” “Maybe. Who are you?” Townes asks, taking a sip of his drink. “I’m Anna.” “Okay,” he says. “Why are you here?” “I’m talking to y-your girlfriend.” “My girlfriend,” he repeats, looking at Melissa, who smiles at him. “She is pretty,” the girl tells him. “I know,” Townes says. He grabs Melissa’s hand and pulls her away to somewhere more secluded, they’ve already missed the dinner and people are starting to get drunk and obnoxious. He finishes his drink quickly, debating getting a second. “This is yummy,” Melissa compliments, sipping her drink slowly through a pink straw. He’s still mad at her and feels like she should stop talking. “Why are you mad at me? I haven’t done anything.” “Do you enjoy humiliating me?” he asks. “How have I humiliated you?” “I just realized that I hate you,” he tells her. “You just realized?” Melissa smiles. She loves him so much that sometimes she can’t contain it. She’s sure that she looks ridiculous smiling at him, but she doesn’t care. Love humiliates you, he needs to understand that. “I hate you, too. If that’s what we’re going to say instead of it.” “Instead of what?” “You know what.” “Why is everyone ominous as fuck today. Just say it.” “I want you to say it first.” “Say what first?” He asks exasperated. “Wait here.” Townes comes back with two more drinks, he finishes the first quickly, and starts drinking the second. “You can’t get fucked up here,” Melissa says. “Stop.” After Townes finishes his third drink, he takes Melissa’s out of her hand and drinks it as well, ignoring her protests. “You’re a sick freak. Get me another one.” Townes kisses her cheek and whispers something in her ear. “We can’t. Not here.” “Be a good girl and listen,” he says. “Okay,” she whispers to him. They end up in a random bathroom upstairs, Melissa is sitting on the sink while Townes kisses her neck and lifts up her dress. It’s not easy, but they make it work. She unbuckles his belt and shivers when she pulls his zipper down. Melissa gasps when he enters her roughly, her back thumping against the wall. Townes places his hand on the wall behind her, pressing his mouth to hers. They breathe each other in and hear footsteps scurrying past the door. Melissa looks at herself in the mirror, wiping cum off of her dress. Townes is sitting on the floor, the top buttons of his shirt are undone. His hair is all over the place. “We look so obvious,” she says. “My lipstick is on my chin. Are you happy?” Townes smiles lazily. “Yes.” He leans back on the wall and watches Melissa fix her makeup, he’s ready to leave. He doesn’t care what she wants to do; they’re leaving. Townes and Melissa walk out of the bathroom and look over the railing, things seem to be getting more uncivilized downstairs as the night progresses. Adults are singing and dancing, they can hear it from all the way up here. “Wait, Townes,” Melissa whispers. “Look.” They spot Grace alone, away from everyone else, texting on her phone, her face scrunched up in agony. Melissa slides to the floor and watches her from above, looking through the blue bannisters. Townes pulls out his phone and sits next to her, texting Paul to come scoop them immediately. He looks up when he hears Grace groan. Both Townes and Melissa watch the woman, who’s fanning her face and rubbing her belly. Grace drops her phone and bends to pick it up, revealing a dark blood stain leaking from behind. She is bleeding profusely, bracing herself against the floor. Eventually she drops to her knees, crying out weakly in pain. Townes and Melissa do nothing but watch her struggle, the pool of blood getting bigger and bigger beneath her. Grace notices the blood and begins to cry, reaching out a bloody hand to her phone that is completely smashed. She tries to call for help but she’s so weak. She sobs more, starting to crawl towards people. A woman spots Grace and runs over, nearly fainting as she sees the blood. The blood soaking Grace’s dress spreads, her thighs completely covered in deep red. The woman brings more people to come help her, some are crying, calling 911 and whatnot. Later, Townes receives a phone call from his father, disheveled and upset. “Grace had a miscarriage,” his father informs him. “She’s in a lot of pain, but she’ll be fine the doctors said. She’ll be fine.” Townes tells him that he’s sorry to hear that, that he had no idea Grace was all alone in pain. Him and Melissa try not to laugh. Revenge can be purifying.

Chapter Fifty-One

Townes turns in his math exam early. The only person who finished before him is Kevin. Fucking Kevin. How the fuck did Kevin finish the exam before him? Townes decides to confront him. “Hey, Townes,” Kevin smiles, mocking him, clearly. Who does this kid think he is? “How did you finish the test so quickly?” Townes asks suspiciously. “That test was easy peasy,” he says. “Who wouldn’t finish it quickly?” “I’m sure you’re familiar with finishing quickly,” Townes quips. “What?” “Nothing, Kevin.” “Happy Thanksgiving, Townes! Enjoy your break!” Fuck you, Kevin. Townes is waiting for Melissa during lunch, normally she’s here before him. He doesn’t text her to ease his worries, he just keeps waiting. He reminds himself that it’s okay, that she’ll come back, and he won’t have to slit his own throat. The library basement is inspiring such intense dread, Townes thinks that something has fundamentally shifted inside of him. He needs his relationship with Melissa to be recognized in some undying way. How peculiar, to think of something like love so morbidly. But this is a universally acknowledged truth; only death is forever. Would death not be romantic? They could die together, he muses. Here he is, getting a world class education, with absolutely no idea how to solve the problem of love. If love means wanting to die with them, then yes, he does love her. Whether it’s all of the fucking dust or the old books or the silence, Townes feels terribly somber. He needs to not be left to collect dust. He needs to be read and paid attention to, not forgotten and shoved into a rotting oak shelf. The weight of these thoughts makes him want to die, more than ever before. He wants Melissa to be his forever, he’s just not sure how forever can exist if not through death. How can he ensure that she can’t leave without killing her? Of course he would kill himself afterwards to be with her, he’s not a monster. He doesn’t hear Melissa walk down the stairs; he’s captivated by planning their murders in his mind. “Hi,” she says, softly. “What’s wrong?” he asks. That question always seems to make people who are desperately trying to hold back tears, release them. She falls on top of him, nestling her face into his blazer. “I did so bad, Townes,” she cries. “I didn’t know anything.” “What?” “My exams,” she sniffs. “I feel so stupid.” “You’re not stupid,” he tells her, honestly. “You’re the smartest person I know.” Townes truly believes this. Although Melissa has moments in which Townes finds her unbearably retarded, he does think that she matches him intellectually. “Obviously I’m not if I can’t pass my fucking exams.” He’s not sure how to console her; he’s probably gotten As on all of his exams. He has no idea what to say. She should never feel stupid. It pains him to hear her talk about herself like this. “Do you want a milkshake later?” he asks. Melissa nods her head against him. He gently strokes her hair, which takes a lot out of him. He tends to avoid touching hair in this way, it’s too hairy. But Melissa’s is impossibly soft and smells of fresh flowers and never has any dandruff flakes or grease. She leans into his touch, pleasantly shocked to feel his hands in her hair. The moment doesn’t last long, lunch is almost over. They’ll meet again after school and go home and probably fuck and drink milkshakes. The usual. Townes is walking out of his last period class when he hears someone call his name. “Townes,” Kevin pants, jogging up to him. “I lied. Sort of.” Townes stares at Kevin. Normally, he likes to be prepared when engaging in conversation. He has millions of different scenarios running over his tongue, testing to see which one works best. “What?” Townes asks, utterly confused. “Uh, can you, um, follow me.” Townes decides he will follow him, he has time to spare before Paul arrives. Kevin walks to the library, a part that Townes has never been before. They walk briskly down an empty row of books, to a small and badly lit room, just behind the encyclopedias. “Okay, so, the real reason I finished so quickly,” Kevin says. “Is because of this.” Kevin pulls out a small bag of white powder, Townes clenches his jaw, feeling his cheeks heat. “What is it?” Townes asks. “Just some coke,” Kevin replies. “Yeah. This is really pure stuff. Want some?” God bless the kindness of strangers. Townes sits with his back against a bookshelf with a rolled bill in his hand, watching Kevin cut lines on top of his iPad with his school ID. Townes thinks that Kevin is incredibly pretentious. Who snorts coke off of an iPad? It would be much more respectable to cut lines on, say, one of the incredibly rare and expensive special editions behind him. “Go for it,” Kevin says, rubbing his hands together like a subway rat. Townes doesn’t hesitate, he snorts three lines and sees white light. God, perhaps? “Holy shit,” Townes says. “It’s good, right?” Kevin laughs, snorting some coke himself. “You know, Kevin,” Townes drawls. “You look like a fetus. You might age well.” “Oh. Thank you, I think.” Townes receives a text from Paul and stands, shrugging his backpack over his shoulders. “Well, I have to go,” Townes informs. “Bye, Kevin.” “Bye, Townes,” Kevin shouts, laughing his ass off and snorting another line. Townes makes his way through the library, everything is a blur of oak and old spines and bronze. He can’t feel his face, which is fine. Sometimes Townes feels everything too much, he doesn’t mind the sudden numbness. His heart is beating erratically but all is well when he sees her. Kevin’s coke is strong, stronger than he anticipated. He feels buzzing in his fingertips, like cicadas are trapped under his skin. Melissa smiles when she sees him, oh what he would give to wage wars in her name. He threads his fingers through hers, pulling her into a walk towards the parking lot. It’s raining; the autumn air chills them both, nipping at their skin. They don’t speak, Melissa makes him run with her under the dripping, light-red leaves of the maple trees. They laugh and nearly slip in the wet grass and laugh some more. Paul opens the car door for the both, the leather seats sopping beneath them. They’re out of breath and freezing, Townes kisses Melissa’s cold lips as Paul pulls out of the school’s lot. “I missed you,” Melissa tells him. Townes takes off his blazer and kisses her again. She grabs his face and pulls him against her. “Tell me again,” he smiles, positioning her on top of him. “I missed you so much, Townes.” Melissa feels him reach inside of her skirt. “Wait.” “I can’t wait,” Townes whispers. “I missed you more.” Of course that’s all Melissa needs to hear to scramble her brain completely. She doesn’t stop him when he pulls down his zipper. She doesn’t stop him when he lifts her by the hips and slides her back down on him. Townes isn’t concerned with anything but the girl he’s inside of. Perhaps if he was sober the knowledge that Paul is watching them fuck would nauseate him. But of course he’s not sober and Melissa is not as quiet as she thinks she is and it’s getting faster and more desperate. They are completely twisted together. Their tongues. Their thoughts. It’s a primal sort of fuck; hard and selfish. Melissa bites his shoulder to stop herself from screaming. He laughs and tells her a secret. Paul isn’t watching. Or listening. He’s not. He’s stolen a few glances because it’s impossible to ignore people fucking right behind you. He drives faster than normal, he doesn’t want to be in the car with them any longer. He turns up the radio in hopes of drowning out the heavy breathing coming from the back seats. Paul hears more moans and swerves the car slightly, momentarily hypnotized by the rapid thumping. He can feel it against his seat. “Jesus, Paul. Watch where you’re fucking going.” Paul says sorry. “Fucking idiot.” Eventually the movement stops, leaving only labored breaths and fogged windows. Back at home, Melissa is listening to Townes rant. He walks around above her while she lies on the floor beneath him with her hands on her stomach. He likes talking down to her. She knows by now that he must’ve taken something at school. He’s erratic and insane, speaking quickly with bright eyes. “I’m saying that grades aren’t indicative of intelligence. You don’t even need good grades for the future that you’ll have,” he says. “What future will I have, Townes?” she asks. “Obviously I’ll make you my wife. You’ll be at home. You don’t need a fucking A in math to be a good wife.” “So, you want to marry me?” she smiles. “Yes, Melissa,” he tells her. “I can’t imagine you being anything other than my wife. Do you have any other ambitions or goals?” Melissa shakes her head no. “Of course you don’t. Good girl.” Melissa jumps up and hugs him, pulling back to give him a million kisses. “Townes,” she says. “Please promise you won’t ever change your mind. I want you to remember this forever. And I want you to remember that I was here with you and you wanted to marry me and I was your favorite girl in the whole world. Promise me.” “I promise,” he says.

Chapter Fifty-Two

PART TWO “I’d really appreciate it if you both came. Nothing crazy. Grace doesn’t really want to be around people right now,” Townes’ father says over the phone. “Okay. So why would she want to be around us?” “She likes you and Melissa. Two hours tops, Townes. Jesus. Do you need me to fucking pay you to come to dinner?” “No. We’ll be there. Bye.” Thanksgiving dinner. It’s been a while since Townes has participated in any family affairs. Last Thanksgiving he remembers waking up in a field. One week of break will be spent at home, another on the ski trip that he hasn’t mentioned to Melissa. It’s not a surprise, or a secret, he just has completely forgotten to mention it. Normally, everyone that’s signed up meets in front of the school with their bags, waiting with their parents, and receiving their sleeping arrangements. Townes refuses to take the bus with the other students, so he’s having Paul drive them. “Where will we be?” Melissa asks. They’ve been on break for a few days and haven’t left bed once. Not because they’ve been fucking, but because Townes experiences a horrible depression after getting high. He tries not to dwell on it; his sadness is boring and repetitive. He doesn’t know how he survived these episodes before having Melissa by his side. Obviously back then he’d just get high again but he’d still be sad and alone. Drugs are amazing, but they’ll never love you like you love them. “Thanksgiving at my dad’s,” Townes says. “I’m sorry.” “It’s okay,” Melissa assures. “I’d follow you to the sun if you asked.” Melissa feels guilty for liking Townes like this. She likes taking care of him and these are really the only moments that he allows her to baby him completely. Sometimes they’ll be facing each other and he’ll be on his side and she’ll be on her stomach and he’ll rest his hand on the small of her back as they talk and it feels like they were never strangers. Joined at the flesh. She feels it often; a physical, acute pain when they aren’t touching. Perhaps they were in love before they were born. Maybe this is what true love is: you take the place of his mother and you romanticize a deeply unwell boy and he daddies you and you get married and die. Melissa has come to terms with her purpose. To be made for him, to have no defining characteristics other than being his girl. She will be content listening to the love of her life tell her about the mundane moments of his day. He can rest his head and she’ll bake him bread and wait by the door for his return. “Hi, my love! How was your day? Are you hungry? I’m learning how to cook all of your favorite foods. Can I serve you something? Of course. Whatever you want,” she imagines saying to him in the future when they’re married and old. She looks at him and thinks, I’m going to spend the rest of my life falling in love and falling asleep. “Can you stand over there?” Townes asks, pointing in front of the bed. He grins when she listens and walks over without question. “Now what?” she smiles. “Take off your shirt,” he tells her, and she takes it off. She’s only wearing a bra and underwear. Townes looks at her for a moment, but not in a sexual way. He looks at her in a way that she is proof of love's existence. He doesn’t watch her for long. He believes that analyzing beauty for too long destroys it. He doesn’t want to degrade her. “You can put it back on.” Melissa doesn’t put the shirt back on, she decides to sit on top of him and stare at him until he laughs. “What was the point of that?” she asks. “Or were you just trying to assert your dominance?” “My room felt aesthetically bankrupt,” he explains. Melissa rolls her eyes, he thinks she’s beautiful. “I signed us up for the ski trip,” Townes mentions. “Is that really where you want to be on your birthday? On a school trip?” “You signed us up?” Melissa asks, confused. “Yes,” he says. “You wanted to go.” Melissa laughs. “You’re going to get me whatever I want? Whenever I say I want something, it’ll be mine?” “Don’t laugh at me,” he smiles. “Whatever you want.” “What if I wanted the moon? Would you take it out of the sky for me?” “Yes,” he says. “I’d ruin the tides for you.” Melissa doesn’t know that Townes is about to meet with Kevin. He feels like it’s really none of her business if he decides to do cocaine occasionally. It’ll be different than last time because he won’t get addicted and he won’t overdose. Can she honestly expect him to get through dinner with his father sober? Townes is sitting in the car with Paul, waiting for Kevin to let them through the gate of his development. This whole thing feels gay. Once they’re let through, Townes tells Paul to be ready in exactly 30 minutes. “No problemo,” says Paul. Townes walks up to the house and yet again waits for Kevin. He tries not to become irritated, but he really doesn’t like waiting. The disrespect leaves his chest heavy. “Hey, Townes,” Kevin smirks. Idiotic fetus looking piece of shit. “Let me show you where the magic happens.” Townes groans internally, but follows him to his room. Kevin's room is typical, exactly what you’d expect. Light blue walls and striped bed sheets. Nautical themed. It’s childish, just like him. “I just rolled this,” Kevin says, holding a small blunt. “Wanna smoke? We can do it on my balcony. My parents aren’t home but the smell lingers, you know?” Townes wonders if getting smoked out by another boy is homoerotic. He guesses that it probably is, but that it also probably doesn’t matter. “Fine,” Townes agrees impatiently, taking the blunt from him and walking outside. Townes lights it and inhales, passing it to Kevin, who starts coughing. “Sorry,” Kevin sputters. “I don’t really smoke that often.” “Okay,” Townes says, holding out his hand. Townes puts a bit of hand sanitizer on the blunt where his mouth touches each time Kevin hands it back to him. Kevin doesn't question him or seem offended. The boys pass the blunt back and forth until they’re both high and talking nonsense. “I’m a virgin,” Kevin admits with a great deal of shame. “Really? I never would have thought that,” Townes smiles. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re, like, really beautiful?” Kevin asks. “Not in a weird, uh, gay way. Just, like, an observation.” “You should see my girl,” Townes tells him. Kevin walks back out with a bag of coke in his hand and an iPad, which Townes frowns at. He watches Kevin cut the lines with an American Eagle gift card and rolls a bill. “Why do you have an American Eagle gift card?” Townes asks, completely disgusted. “Gift from my grandmother,” Kevin laughs. “They have nice sweaters.” “No they don’t,” Townes says. “Where do I get a good sweater then?” “I prefer crewnecks,” Townes says. “You should look into that. Maybe you wouldn’t look the way that you do.” “Like a fetus?” “Exactly.” Townes snorts two lines just in time for Paul to text him that he’s arrived. He can barely read the words on his phone, everything is fuzzy. “Here,” Kevin says. “Take the rest. I’m flying out to Aspen, so.” “How much?” Townes asks, pulling out his wallet. “No, no. I don’t charge friends,” Kevin winks. Townes laughs at this and stands up. The two boys walk to the front door and say their goodbyes. In the car Townes counts every cloud in the sky. He tries to count every tree but there’s too many. He’s bouncing his leg up and down and lightly tapping his head on the seat. Tap tap tap. “You okay, Townes?” Paul asks. “Yes.” Townes taps his head faster. “Actually, when are we getting a new chef?” Paul feels a pinch in his heart at the mentions of chefs. He didn’t think that Townes would notice, but a new chef has indeed been hired. Paul has been driving to get takeout for the kids almost every night. He figured that they were doing fine without a chef, but Townes' mother would throw a fit if her son wasn't being cooked homemade meals daily. With Townes’ mother unreliable and his father struggling with the loss of his baby, Paul has been shouldering everything. “Do you miss her, Paul?” Townes asks sadistically. Paul decides to stay silent. He doesn’t want to implicate himself. “Do my parents know you were fucking her?” “It doesn’t matter anymore, does it? She’s gone now.” “Everyone is replaceable, Paul. You should be able to find another fat bitch pretty easily. They have low standards.” They ride back to the house in silence. Townes is discretely trying to take out the bag of coke. When Paul parks the car, Townes tells him to go inside before him. He lazily dumps some of the powder out on his phone and snorts it, coughing softly. They have an hour until dinner, Townes feels like that’s an appropriate amount of time to fuck Melissa, take a shower, get dressed, and snort one more line. Melissa’s sitting at his desk brushing her hair when he walks in, she looks him over once, twice, and then slams her brush down. “Where were you?” she asks. He smiles because she sounds like a real wife. She picks her brush back up and throws it at him. Townes is too far gone to stop it from hitting his chest, right over his heart. Impressive aim. Soulmates. “I thought I trained you enough not to throw things,” he says. “Fuck you.” “We have time. You can bend over the desk.” Melissa walks over to him and inspects his face. She reminds him of his mother, she used to check his pupils as well. He decides to kiss her, the best distraction method for Melissa. “You smoked?” she asked. “Yes,” he says, reaching down to fondle her. “What else?” “Can I fuck you?” Townes asks, backing her further to the bed. “My makeup,” she breathes. “My hair.” Townes pushes her onto her back and spreads her legs. “We’re going to be late,” Melissa cautions. “I’ll be fast,” he promises, kissing her as she rubs herself against him. “Not too fast,” she moans against his mouth. “I still want to—oh my God.” Townes laughs. “Is that what you’re calling me now,” he teases. “Am I your god? The bed and floor creak in harmonious agony, certainly not a good time for the new chef to arrive. Paul shifts uncomfortably at the loud moans coming from upstairs. “Excuse that,” he tells the woman. “That’s, um, well.” “Who I’ll be cooking for?” she speculates with a small smile. “Let me show you the kitchen.” “Wow,” the woman marvels. “It’s gorgeous.” “Yes,” Paul agrees. “Newly renovated. All yours now, I suppose.” “Hmm,” she hums. “I suppose so. May I see the spare house?” “Of course. Right this way.” Townes is in the shower, contemplating life. Once he gets to his father’s house, he’ll take the rest of the coke. He probably should ration it but desperate times call for desperate measures. “Does this look good?” Melissa asks as they both get dressed. “Yes,” Townes says. “Can you button my shirt?” His hands are shaking too much. Melissa has so many things that she wants to say. She wants him to stop. She doesn’t want to upset him. She just buttons his shirt. Townes and Melissa wait in the kitchen for Paul. Melissa takes out a small red lollipop from her bag and sticks it in her mouth, Townes watches her suck. “Stop doing that,” he smiles. “Doing what?” she asks innocently, licking the lollipop rather seductively. Townes takes it out of her mouth and puts it in his. “Give it back,” she gasps, slapping his shoulder. Paul and the woman walk into the kitchen, watching this interaction. They both look up when Paul clears his throat. “Well. Hey kids. This is Edie,” Paul introduces. “New chef.” Townes and Melissa stare at the woman; completely opposite of Miss Agnello in nearly every way. She’s young. She’s very pretty. “Hello,” Edie waves. “Where are you two headed?” Townes and Melissa look at Edie and then look at each other and then back at Edie. “Hi,” Melissa smiles. “Do you know how many calories are in a strawberry and cream Whole Foods cupcake?” “She probably does,” Townes says. “Her name’s Edie. That’s a smart name.” “Oh my god, Townes. You’re so right. Her name could of been something like, I don’t know, Nora.” “Exactly. That’s the dumbest name.” “Well not the dumbest. She could be named Dolly. That’s the dumbest name ever.” “Good point, Melissa.” Edie and Paul stare at the kids. Paul is used to this sort of behavior, but Edie doesn’t know what to make of it. She can't tell if they're being playful or already see her as beneath them. The girl, she notices, keeps studying her face. Not in a malicious way, but rather a genuine curiosity. They look horrifying together, that’s the best way to explain it. Mean and belittling. There's something harsh about their faces. They are assessing her, she knows. Edie isn't interested in being degraded by privileged teenagers. She gets enough shit living in New England; being surrounded by ugly, racist white people has a way of hardening your soul. Edie remembers this one guy that she used to date, Mike. How he always complimented how exotic she was despite the fact that she was born and raised in the same town as him. How much he loved her rich, chocolate, golden, coco skin. “Black Lives Matter,” he had said once while she was blowing him. “Ready to go kids?” Paul asks.

Chapter Fifty-Three

Melissa doesn’t care much for dinner parties. She doesn’t particularly like when people are watching her eat or paying careful attention to the quantity of food remaining on her plate. Being seen doing something so human, well, it repulses her. Its humiliating to chew and swallow in front of people. This won’t be a good night, she thinks. Townes is already showing signs of irritability and disinterest in her. The car ride is awkward and uncomfortable. Cocaine, she assumes. But this will be her life with him; living for the in-betweens of his hate and his love. “We don’t have to stay for long,” Melissa tells Townes quietly, who ignores her. “We don’t have to go at all.” She watches his leg bounce up and down erratically. She reaches over him and rolls up the partition. He doesn’t get to humiliate her in front of Paul. “Townes, I swear to god, if you keep ignoring me—” “I’m not ignoring you,” he interrupts. “I’m thinking.” “About what?” she asks. “Do you have any winter clothes?” “Not really.” “Christine can take you shopping,” he tells her. “Okay,” she smiles. “I thought you weren’t doing coke anymore.” Townes sighs. “Is it really that fucking serious, Melissa? It lasts, like, less than fifteen minutes.” “Fine,” she says annoyed. Of course she could have pushed him further. She could have begged him to stop. Melissa does none of those things because she can’t bear the thought of him being annoyed at her. “I’ll just stop talking forever.” “You’re so annoying,” he drawls, taking a little bag of white powder, his phone, and wallet out of his pocket. She watches him roll a bill and dump some powder on his phone screen. He snorts it quickly and rolls down the window, throwing the rest of the cocaine out of the moving car. He knows later that he will regret that tremendously but it’s worth it for her smile. Melissa runs a hand over his cheek, a soft, delicate stroke. He grabs her hand and kisses the back of it. She slides closer to him and places her lips on his jaw and then his neck. “I’m hard,” he says quietly. “Are you?” She asks, placing her hand on top of his crotch. He spreads his legs slightly, blushing from her touch. “You’re so easy, Townes. You’re such a slut.” “Am I?” he asks. “Are you going to do something or just sit there?” “We can’t fuck every time we’re in the car,” she tells him. “Why? You let me fuck you everywhere else.” “I like our bed the best.” Our bed, he repeats to himself inside of his head. Of course he can’t help but smile. “What?” she laughs. “Why do you prefer the bed?” he asks. “It’s romantic.” “Is it?” Townes pauses for a moment. “Have I been romantic enough?” He is suddenly very insecure. Townes has had to stretch his life in numerous, demented ways to make room for her. Should his sacrifice not be recognized? Melissa should feel lucky that he even noticed her. She should be thanking him—praying to him. But no, instead he’s throwing away perfect cocaine and taking her on school trips and removing the word no from his vocabulary. He can’t live like this forever; him sacrificing everything for her. What has she given up for him? Melissa watches Townes regard her with disgust. “You’re perfect,” she tells him. It’s a lazy, uninspired answer. Of course he’s perfect, but what else? She could be saying that to anyone, it’s not special. Is that truly the best she can come up with? Townes realizes that he has made a monumental mistake. He doesn’t respond, he needs to think of ways to slice himself free from her. The rest of the car ride is tense and uncomfortable. They travel down a long, winding road to a modern home nestled between tall trees with falling orange leaves. Townes gets out before her and begins to walk towards the front door. He doesn’t wait for Melissa, which hurts her deeply. “Let’s, uh, let’s just eat in the living room,” Townes’ father says in greeting. “Is that okay?” Townes sits down on the couch without answering and Melissa follows him. She notices Grace first, who could be mistaken for a lifeless corpse. It’s fascinating to see someone so unlike themselves. “Hi,” Grace says softly. She speaks like she’s about to cry. The shameless display of emotion is bothering Townes. Get over it, he thinks “Hi, Grace,” Melissa greets. “Sorry,” she laughs, shakily. “You look pretty.” “Thank you,” Melissa says. “You look, um. You look very blonde.” “Oh, thank you.” Melissa cringes. This whole thing is horrible and Townes isn’t helping. Everyone is punishing her. Townes gets up and doesn’t come back for ten minutes. The small talk is killing her. “How do you feel?” Melissa asks. Grace shrugs. “So, so. The doctors said that it was so close. If I got to them just a few minutes sooner, my baby would’ve been fine.” Townes walks in to hear that last part, only Melissa notices him roll his eyes. He’s drunk. “How do you feel, dad?” Townes asks. “Hardest day of my life,” his father says. “I was, I don’t know, really warming up to the idea I guess. It would’ve been exciting to do it all again.” Townes thinks, I almost died. His father deserves children that die. Piece of shit. Bald, useless, absent, pathetic piece of shit. “I wonder what you’ve done to have such bad luck,” Townes says, drunk and bitter. Melissa squeezes his thigh. “What do you mean?” “I mean it’s like you’re being punished.” “Punished for what? What have I done?” His father asks, affronted. “Is there something you want to say?” “I’m saying that forcing us to eat Thanksgiving dinner in a living room is aesthetically offensive,” Townes says. “And no one wants to be around a woman who just miscarried. It’s depressing.” His father drops his fork. Townes doesn’t like that everyone is staring at him, so he gets up and walks outside. He hates a dramatic exit but no one was saying anything. It’s moments like these that Townes is especially happy that Paul doesn’t have a life or single fucking person expecting him to be at Thanksgiving dinner, so he’s waiting in the car right where they left him. “I guess he wants to leave,” Melissa says, standing up. “Hey, Melissa?” Townes’ father calls, walking up behind her. “Yes?” “I know my son has issues,” he says. “But I’ve been good to him. That shit, sorry, stuff was uncalled for. Is he drinking again?” He watches her play with a strand of her hair. She’s never been this close to Townes’ father before. He’s an attractive man, she notices. “He never drinks,” Melissa says. “I think he’s stressed from school.” He glances down at her lips and then back at her eyes. “He’s treating you well?” he asks. “Yes.” “Are you treating him well?” he smirks. Melissa licks her lips and blinks. “Very well.” She doesn’t know why she wants his father to praise her in some way. She wants him to be proud of her and tell her so. Melissa is the only person in the world who will love Townes unconditionally. “Oh, well that’s good, isn’t it?” He runs a hand over his face. “You seem like a good girl.” “I am,” she affirms. “Very good.” The crash of thunder makes him jump, Melissa stares at him. He wants her. This truth makes his blood run cold. He takes a step closer to the girl. “I’m happy to hear you’re treating him how he deserves,” he tells her. He appreciates the swell of her cleavage and thin wrists. “He’s, uh, certainly lucky to have you.” Townes walks back in to see his father eye fucking Melissa. He hates them both. “We’re leaving,” he announces quietly. His father fixates on the curve of her ass as she walks to his son. In the car, Townes can hardly contain his rage. He knows that Melissa was letting his father look at her like that. He knows. It’s not enough anymore to say that he hates her. He regrets her. Melissa doesn’t talk to him, there’s no point. Anything she says now will just make it worse. It is an agonizing ride back home. Even Paul feels nervous.

Chapter Fifty-Four

Melissa is waiting for Townes to get out of the shower. It’s been an hour since they got back from dinner. She’s preparing herself for whatever psychotic shit he decides to do. Melissa absentmindedly runs a hand down her bare leg as Townes goes into his closet. “Get up,” he says, emerging fully dressed. She follows him downstairs and waits for her next instructions. Maybe he isn’t as mad as she thought. Melissa watches him open the front door, her eyes water from the cold air that bleeds in. He grabs her arm and pulls her outside. She flinches when he closes the door on her. She grabs the doorknob and knows, horribly, that he’s locked her outside. Melissa isn’t wearing anything but his t-shirt. Her feet feel numb. She knocks on the front door loudly. “Townes,” she whimpers. “Don’t leave me out here. I’m sorry.” She wipes her eyes. “Townes?” She runs through the wet grass to the back door to find it locked. He’s trying to kill me. Melissa is going to freeze to death so she bangs the door harder. Her cries turn to sobs. “Townes, I’m sorry.” She loses track of how long she’s been outside, it feels like hours. Everything hurts. She can’t feel her fingers or her toes. Her limbs are heavy and useless; too still to move. Melissa watches the puffs of her breath but doesn't feel connected to the breathing itself. She was outside a warm home, lifeless and inanimate. Townes wasn't coming to get her, and this sat on her heart and began to rot. “Hey!” She hears someone call. “You’re turning blue.” Edie pulls a loop of keys out of her pocket and unlocks the door. She doesn’t ask why Melissa was outside nearly naked. “Want me to make you some hot chocolate?” Melissa nods her head yes. “The pink hot chocolate,” Melissa says. “That’s my favorite.” “Want to talk about it?” Edie asks, in a way that implies she doesn’t care one way or another. It’s a manipulation tactic, Melissa catches. What’s there to say? Couples fight. “Here put this on.” Edie shrugs off her jacket and drapes it over Melissa’s shoulders. She knows that she might be overstepping but she takes a tissue and gathers the moisture from the girl’s cheeks. All she sees is someone who desperately wants to be taken care of. They sit in comfortable silence. “Here,” Edie says, placing a steaming cup of pink hot chocolate in front of Melissa. She takes a sip without blowing on it. Edie cringes. She wonders how the girl shows no signs of it burning her mouth and throat. “Yummy,” Melissa says to herself. She looks up and stares at Edie. “I love him.” “I know.” “Don’t look at me like that.” “Like what?” “Like you’re scared for me.” “Should I be scared for you?” Melissa smiles. “He loves me. He can’t stand it.” “You know that could be considered attempted murder, right?” “He wouldn’t have let me die.” “How do you know? I didn’t see him rushing to get you. You were staring at a locked door.” “I’m always staring at locked doors,” Melissa says. “Don’t judge him.” “You know my mother was always trying to convince us that she loved my father. She told us she loved him through a busted lip. Black eyes, a bruised cheek. She loved him until the day we buried her.” “Abuse sob stories are so boring,” Melissa taunts. Edie sighs. “My mother wasn’t actually abused,” Edie admits. “I made that all up.” “I know,” Melissa smirks. “You’re a bad liar.” “Why did your boyfriend lock you outside?” “I think it’s because he saw his dad staring at my tits. I also think it's because he thinks I don't love him.” “Why does he think that?” “Why does he think that,” Melissa mimics, smiling into her mug. “Why, why, why.” Edie places a hand on her chest, fussing with her necklace. If it’s one thing Melissa knows how to do, it’s unsettle people. “Was his father staring at your tits?” “Everyone stares at my tits,” she answers. “What am I if I’m not being stared at?” Edie's eyes are introspective and kind. “That’s what girls are. Sights. What else do I have to offer? My personality?” Townes wouldn’t love me if I was ugly. “Sure you’re nice to look at,” Edie says. “But it has nothing to do with why I’m here in the kitchen with you, serving you hot chocolate.” “You like talking to me?” Melissa asks curiously. “You’re cool.” Edie bites her tongue. “Your relationship is unhealthy.” “I’m not interested in having a healthy relationship.” “Some would call what he just did to you abusive.” “Yeah, probably. But that's not what I would call it.” “Okay. What would you call it?” “Foreplay.” “Jesus,” Edie laughs. “So this is love to you?” “All of it is love to me.” Melissa walks upstairs slowly, her entire body aches. She’ll take a bubble bath, she decides. She goes straight inside the bathroom, ignoring Townes. Everything seems to be dissolving into melancholy and dull murmurs. There are hundreds of desires stirring within her. Melissa has faithfully gravitated towards pain instead of softness. The water burns her skin, she’s covered in bubbles. She finds this entire ordeal exciting; she almost died tonight. The knowledge that Townes would care enough to kill her warms her soul. She keeps watching the door waiting for him to enter and finally he does. It’s as though he could hear everything she was saying to him inside of her head. He walks to the side of the bathtub and sits down. She reaches a sudsy hand towards his face, turning it to hers. “I heard you,” he says. “What?” “In the kitchen.” He looks down at the floor. “You told our chef that you loved me, before you told me.” “It’s obvious I do.” “No,” he squints. “I needed to hear it.” “I’m embarrassed.” “Why?” “Because I loved you first.” We live in a perpetually burning building, Townes thinks. “Will you be okay when it ends badly?” he asks. “I love you, Townes,” she says. “I’ll be okay.”

Chapter Fifty-Five

“The Max Mara,” Townes says. “Maybe.” “You don’t think it’s too mature?” Christine asks. “Miu Miu is more youthful.” “True. I like that it’s pink,” he tells her. “Does the Moncler come in pink?” “I’ll go ask.” Melissa watches them talk to each other. Townes studies her outfit and then whispers something to Christine. She doesn’t understand a single thing they’re saying. When Christine walks away, she goes up to Townes. “I love spending your money,” Melissa says. “Do I look pretty?” Melissa has always known that she was a pretty girl, but Townes makes her feel more than beautiful. She feels pure and clean. To have someone like him find her worth looking at means a great deal to her. He makes her beauty an indisputable fact; he makes beauty mean something. “Yes,” he says. “Always.” “I’m hungry.” They’ve been here for hours, she feels neglected. She wants him to feed her, preferably by his hand. “What do you want to eat?” Townes asks. “Well, what do you want to eat?” “I’ll eat whatever you want to eat,” he says. “But I want to eat what you want to eat.” “Jesus Christ,” Christine interjects, startling them both. “Pasta, burgers, sushi, sandwiches. The options are endless.” “What do you want?” Townes asks Melissa again. “Pick for me,” she whispers to him. Townes was in the mood for watching Melissa eat pasta, so that’s what she had. After the late lunch, Melissa played with Townes’ hair until he fell asleep on her chest. “What time do we leave in the morning?” she asks him as he finishes his third beer; she keeps track now. “Like 8,” he says. “We should sleep soon,” she suggests. Townes leans to kiss her frowning face but it’s not enough for her. She slips her tongue in his mouth and hopes he wants it. They haven’t fucked since Townes locked her outside; he’s been kind. Even-tempered. Distant. He swallows the rest of his beer quickly, tossing it aside on his floor. “Get drunk with me,” Townes urges. “We have to sleep,” Melissa tells him. “It’ll help us sleep.” “Okay.” Melissa’s voice is soft and lovely when she drinks. Townes is enjoying himself getting drunk with her. They had both committed to getting wasted, and after finishing nearly half of a rather expensive bottle of vodka, they had succumbed to the honesty of alcohol. Neither of them make any concerted effort to conceal themselves. “I’m gonna kill my daddy,” Melissa slurs, licking her spoon of ice cream. “Do you mean me? Or your actual father?” Townes asks, taking the spoon from her hand and eating some ice cream himself. Melissa laughs. “I’m drunk I think.” “You are.” They both are. “I’m really happy you're taking me, Townes,” she says. “I love the ski trip.” “Why? Do you like skiing?” “No. I like going because the best hot chocolate of my life is there.” Townes tries to wrap his mind around what she’s saying. “We’re going for hot chocolate?” “The best, Townes. You wouldn’t understand.” Suddenly Melissa begins to cry. Townes doesn’t know why. Was it the memories of delicious hot chocolate causing her tears? “What’s wrong?” he asks. “I do love you,” she cries. “I know I’m not good enough but I’m trying. I promise I’m trying. I just want to make you happy because you make me happy.” Perhaps Melissa was too greedy at first. Perhaps at first she only wanted him to fuck her but then she got greedy. She wanted him to love her. It’s 2am and the moon is shining down on them and the ice cream is melting. Townes uses his thumbs to wipe her eyes; the tears burn him. It’s one of the worst things that he’s ever felt. Melissa will remember this moment fondly, she knows that he would never touch anyone else's tears. “I just want to know why you want me. I don’t understand how you could love me,” Melissa says, closing her eyes. There’s a little girl speaking through her. “You’re an endless amount of reasons,” Townes says, meeting her lips with his. Edie doesn’t enjoy mornings. It’s difficult to leave bed when it’s so cold and gray. November is a bitter month, however beautiful, it is bitter. Edie presents herself nicely. Her curls are moisturized and shiny, her skin glows. She is a lovely woman who never drags her feet or slouches. It’s still dark outside when she walks to the kitchen. She sees a tub of melted ice cream and stares at it, wondering who on earth would leave it on the floor. She takes off her knit mittens and matching hat, walking to the other side of the island. That’s when she spots them; Melissa and Townes on the floor, fully dressed and fast asleep. Quietly, she picks up the bottle of vodka and ice cream and begins her second morning routine. She takes inventory of the dry foods, meats, and produce. She fills up jars and containers running low. Strawberry jam, puff pastry, powdered sugar, and fresh butter; today will be sweet, she thinks. Edie fills the kettle with bottled water and places it on an open flame. As the kettle begins to shriek, she hears a groan coming from the floor. Townes gets up slowly rubbing his eyes with one hand. “Good morning,” Edie smiles, looking up at him. “Tea?” “What?” Townes asks, sleepily. “No.” He reaches down and taps Melissa’s shoulder who stirs under his touch. Edie places a tea bag in a mug and pours the boiling water in, warmed by the steam and fragrant leaves. She watches them, although study might be a more appropriate word. She wonders if the reason that the couple is so beautiful and captivating is because they’re doomed. There’s no hope in this kitchen, there’s no room for anything but love. This troubles her; the discovery of love is deadly. Love ruins things. Edie is not a jaded or bitter woman, she takes no joy in these thoughts. It is a truth she has seen before; true lovers are destined for sorrow. The hot shower did nothing for Townes and Melissa. In fact, it had only made them sleepier. Townes had to practically dress her, which was much more difficult than dressing himself. He figures that they can sleep in the car and everything will be fine. “My head hurts,” Melissa says miserably. Townes takes a pair of sunglasses and fashions them on her face as they smile at each other. “Good,” he says, admiring his work. “Put yours on.” They walk downstairs slowly, passively nauseous and hungover. “We look retarded,” she says. “Yeah,” Townes agrees. “You more than me.” “Are you joking? You look way worse.” “Do I? How?” “Your hair. At least I can put my hair in a ponytail.” He considers this for a moment. He does like her ponytail but then again, he likes everything about her. Any choice she makes with her hair would be perfect. She must be a good judge of hair, he concludes. “You can fix it for me.” Melissa takes a weak hand and runs it through his hair, taming it. She was exaggerating, of course. There are moments that Melissa thinks that he can’t become any more beautiful and then the next day comes and she is happily proven wrong. “Let’s go!” Paul yells from somewhere in the house. It is absolute torture walking to the car, assaulted by the cold breeze. Townes is dressed for the weather which makes him think about Melissa being outside in really nothing at all. It’s not remorse or shame he feels for what he’s done, but rather an understanding. Did she deserve it? On that night, Townes believes that she did. He wonders what it must have been like, that awful, helpless, numbness. It was clear afterwards that all she really wanted was warmth. She fell asleep in the same arms that tossed her out like trash.

Chapter Fifty-Six

Paul is navigating sharp turns and winding roads. He is happy that Townes and Melisa are asleep, his heart cannot handle any more disturbances from the back seat. At least this trip will give him some time to himself, perhaps he will meet up with a certain someone. This makes him blush sneakily. He thought that surely one of them would wake up after hours of being in the car, but neither of them stirred. Paul keeps checking to make sure that they’re both breathing. “Fade Into You” plays on the radio and Paul deviously turns the song up. It would be a crime to not listen to such a wonderful tune, he thinks. The noise wakes Townes up, which he should have guessed. He is not an incredibly deep sleeper. Melissa opens her eyes slowly and loosens the grip she has on Townes’ shirt. Townes asks her how she slept. They kiss. It is a delicate moment that Paul feels happy to have witnessed. He pulls the car in front of the hotel, noticing that he’s not the only driver here that’s brought students. The class differences are startling. It’s the way in which students have no regard for their belongings or anything else for that matter. There’s some strange, unspoken understanding between Paul and the other drivers. They all nod their heads to each other and open the doors for their young masters. A few employees from the hotel walk out to assist with bags and other demands. “Alrighty, this is it. If either of you need anything, call me. Okay?” Paul tells them. “Be good. Don’t get expelled.” Townes collapses on his bed. Melissa isn’t allowed to stay in his room, boys and girls are given separate accommodation assignments, scattered around the hotel. He will sneak her in later, but for now he suffers. He knows it’s risky, but he poured vodka into a few plastic water bottles that sit in the bottom of his duffle bag. There’s no need to wait, he starts drinking immediately, pacing himself. He doesn’t want to be a complete mess in an hour when the teachers give their little speech in the lobby. The vodka warms him in ways that Melissa would if she was here. He misses her terribly and they’ve only been separated for less than thirty minutes. Through the walls he hears the occasional screams and laughs of his fellow classmates. Some are playing music, others are talking. He wonders what Melissa is doing. Townes doesn't have much time to imagine it, she's already knocking at his door excitedly. “Let’s go,” she tells him. “Go where?” “The lobby. We all have to meet down there,” she explains. “Then hot chocolate.” Melissa had taken her ponytail out and dressed warmly, putting on multiple layers. The cold has been especially hard for her to handle lately. “Hi, guys,” Jenna says to them. “I didn’t know you signed up, Mel.” “Yeah.” “Emily pulled out, you know. She doesn’t really have any friends anymore. It would be, like, really awkward.” “Aren’t you her friend?” Melissa asks uninterested, wondering what Townes is doing on his phone. “Not anymore. James is here,” Jenna says, eyeing her. Townes turns off his phone and puts it in his pocket. He is doing a very good job at concealing his drunkenness. “I don’t care,” Melissa says. “I’m with Townes." “Your boyfrienddd,” Jenna giggles, stepping closer to Melissa. “Okay, there’s gonna be a small, intimate, get-together in room 118. It’ll be at, like, one in the morning. Just text me if you want to get in.” “Okay,” Melissa says, grabbing Townes’ hand, pulling him towards the circle of students gathered around a few teachers. “No leaving your room after ten pm. No leaving the hotel after you have gone into your room at ten pm. No sneaking boys or girls into your rooms, period. The rules of the student handbook will be applicable on this trip. No drugs. No alcohol. No sex. No destruction of property. If you are caught doing any of the aforementioned activities, you will be expelled. No questions asked. Okay? Could I get some acknowledgment? Okay. Great, thank you. For tonight, you’ll have time to settle in and unpack if you wish. Mr. Ramsy and I will be happy to take a group of you into town. You may walk around by yourselves if you wish. If you have any questions, comments, or concerns, please refrain from asking until I'm finished talking.” Melissa is sitting on Townes’ hotel bed. They’ve already broken nearly every rule. After Townes had convinced her to get drunk with him, they fucked. Twice. “I want hot chocolate now,” she smiles. “Let’s go,” he tells her. This is when the night started getting weird. Drunk teenagers should never be trusted to navigate a strange, snowy town. They passed the same buildings multiple times, a French restaurant, a vintage jacket shop, a wedding chapel, a cafe. “We’re lost,” Melissa sighs, drunk and cold. “All I wanted was hot chocolate.” “Wait,” Townes says suddenly. “It’s your birthday.” Melissa gasps, because she had completely forgotten. “Woah.” “Happy birthday, Melissa,” Townes smiles as Melissa takes his face in her hands. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she kisses. He pulls a water bottle out of his jacket pocket. “Here. Open your mouth.” Melissa swallows the vodka easily, it tastes like water. They keep walking down the street and drinking until Townes stops them both. “Do you want to get married?” he slurs. “What?” “I’m saying, like, we can. If you want.” “How?” Melissa feels light headed, like she’s dreaming this moment. “That wedding chapel,” Townes points. “It’s like fucking Vegas.” “It won’t be real though, right?” They walk back to the wedding chapel and read the sign. Marriage Ceremonies Be sure to have a marriage license “What the fuck is a marriage license?” Townes asks. “I'll ask that ugly guy inside,” Melissa says, she can hardly walk to the chapel door before swinging it open. A man greets her. He has a thin face with a long, stringy beard. He looks like an eggplant. “What’s a marriage license?” Melissa asks. “You see that building across the street?” Melissa turns her head. “Yes.” “You’re eighteen?” “Yes.” “He’s eighteen?” “Yes.” “Go apply for one and I’ll get you married.” “Okay.” Melissa walks back outside. “We have to go in there.” Townes and Melissa are unaware of the gravity of their situation. For now, it’s a challenge, a game. It’s a joke. It’s not difficult to obtain a marriage license, that’s something they don’t tell you. You can even pay a little more to have it expedited. It’s all been far too easy, therefore it must be a joke. Townes realizes that he had blacked out earlier, because he’s back in the wedding chapel that smells like pizza and tuna fish. “Here,” Melissa says, handing the man something. What did she hand him? A paper? Townes is confused. “I’m gonna throw up,” Melissa says, using all of her strength not to pass out. “Just skip all the dumb shit.” “Uh, okay,” the man responds. “Y’all have fifty dollars right? Okay, good. Do you take, uh, him to be your husband. Nice. Do you take her to be your wife? Awesome. You may now kiss the bride.” Townes and Melissa laugh and kiss, the man waits and watches. The kiss gets quite lascivious, he clears his throat when he watches Townes grab Melissa's ass. “You both just need to fill out some papers.” So they do. “Y’all know this is legally binding right? This is, like, actual marriage.” “Your beard doesn't connect. You should shave it,” Townes says. “Maybe you can get married one day, too.” “Here,” the man scoffs. “Congratulations. I wish you both a lifetime of happiness.”