Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
My friend shoots me a whimsical smile.
“That’s why we’re buddies, Av. Because you always prop me up.”
“We prop each other up,” I retort immediately.
“We do,” Court agrees, musing on something. Then she shoots me a long look. “By the way, have you spoken with Stuart recently?”
I snort.
“No, and that douchebag better not contact me. I just know he’s dating someone else already.”
Stuart is my ex whom I dated throughout high school. In some lame rom-com, I thought we’d actually get married, but then he texted me about two months ago some long missive about “not being in the right place in life” and “wishing me the best.” WTF! First, who breaks up with a long-term girlfriend over text? Second, it sounded like his message was written by Chat GPT. Courtney told me to check for em dashes in the message, and sure enough, there were two. I guess the reasoning is that no one uses em dashes in real life, and definitely not over text, so the special character was a dead giveaway. Still, giveaway or not, I don’t care because Stuart’s text only called out the malaise that I’d been feeling myself. We got together too young, and were bored of one another. Breaking up was a good thing.
Besides, I’m too restless to be pinned down by gangly boys with seeping acne on their necks. Sure, Stuart had a steady job at the poultry plant, but let’s be real. It was a gory position which left him splattered in blood every day, and he was never going to find something better. Best case scenario, he’d be promoted to manager because his uncle owns the plant. But Stuart would never reach upper-level management because my ex enjoyed slaughtering chickens too much to leave the production line. It’s the truth, and I’m calling a spade a spade.
Nonetheless, the relationship’s done now, which leaves me in a slightly precarious position. Courtney doesn’t know this, but Stuart helped me out financially sometimes. He didn’t pay my rent, but he definitely covered my utilities and phone bill, and we shared accounts on Netflix, Amazon Prime, Hulu, and Peacock. Okay, he paid for the accounts and let me sponge off him, but last week, he cut off my access and now I’m stuck watching free shorts on YouTube. I know this sounds ridiculous, but I’m devastated because my shows are really important to me. I was smack in the middle of Love Is Blind, where they had the brouhaha between Patrick and Kacie, and let’s just say I feel terrible for Patrick. People are saying there’s a lot of internalized racism, in addition to overt racism, and I have to agree. Nonetheless, I don’t know what happens between Patrick and Kacie in the end because my access has been cut off! Yet I don’t make enough at Northstar to sign up for Netflix on my own. Not when the standard plan is eighteen dollars a month because that’s eighteen dollars I don’t have. So yes, I’ve decided to take things into my own hands, and I smile hesitantly at my friend.
“Okay, you have that look that tells me something’s up,” Courtney intones. “What is it? Spit it out, Av.”
I take a deep breath.
“It’s not bad, I promise. But do you remember how your sister worked for that group? The one that put on the College Bowl, where your sister met her boyfriend?”
Courtney brows furrow.
“Yes,” she says in a slow tone. “It’s called Sweet Lies. Why?”
I smile brightly.
“Well, because I signed up with them, and I’m going to do an event with them, that’s why!”
Courtney shakes her head, pausing delicately.
“Avalon, you know I love you. You know I’m not judging you because my sister worked for Sweet Lies, so I shouldn’t be saying anything. But you know what Sweet Lies is, right? It’s an exclusive club for rich dudes where anything goes. You’re expected to act sexy and then service them,” she says in a low whisper. “Like pleasure them.”
I nod.
“I know, and I’ve decided that I’m going to do it.”
Court stares at me.
“But why?” she asks. “My sister only did it because you know that our dad has ALS, and the medical expenses were bankrupting us. I couldn’t contribute back then because I was in high school, so Annie decided to go it on her own, and she took the Sweet Lies job out of desperation. But you’re okay, financially, right? I mean, if you’re not, it’s fine. I can help you. Jack has tons of money, and he just sold his latest sculpture for seven figures. Our cash flow is good.”
“Oh no no, it’s not about the money,” I fib lightly. “I could never take money from you, Court, although I appreciate the offer. And it’s so great that Jack’s artwork is selling for so much! Holy cow, you guys must be rolling in cash.”