Beginner's Guide to Gold Digging: Chapter 8

A Beginner's Guide to Making Amends

Crispin

“So this is the first place on the list?” I asked. 

“Ten-four on that one, my dude,” Rachel said, looking at her phone as we stood outside of the bar. 

“Isn’t this the place where we kissed for the first time?” Rose asked Kyle.

“I believe it is, yeah,” Kyle said.

“Small world,” Lisa said. 

“Evidently so,” I shrugged. Lily had been banned from nine different bars. If it was in my power to fix that, then God help me, I would try. She’d already forced herself to kiss me earlier, and yeah, it didn’t seem like she’d hated it necessarily, but she… There was no way she actually… It wasn’t possible. It just wasn’t. 

I had to make it up to her. For putting her in this weird position where she had to lie to herself and pretend she wanted me. And besides, she was gonna get with Julia and make some truly beautiful music together, and then I could… I dunno, go to their wedding in a few years. 

I cracked my neck on both sides, the world around me only mildly spinning about from all the absinthe I’d drunk at Bar Here. This was probably a terrible idea, but…

But I was already walking through the door with my entourage behind me, so it was too late for second thoughts. 

The interior was a cacophony of strobe lights and heavy metal. A live band played, an overwhelmingly hot girl in a leather jacket and jean shorts that looked painted on screeching into the microphone accompanied by four electric guitarists and nothing else. No drums, no bass, no keyboard, absolutely nothing. They were out of tune and had no rhythm and the girl had a voice like she’d smoked five packs of cigarettes at once. 

“I see they got a new band,” Kyle said. 

“Was the old one better?”

“Yes,” he and Rose said in tandem. 

“So how do we go about doing this?” Lisa asked. 

“I’m just gonna go up front, ask for the manager, explain the situation, and write however big a check I need to,” I said, cracking my knuckles as I made my way through the improvised mosh-pit that constituted the interior of the bar. I have never seen a less enthusiastic mosh-pit in my entire life. I’d been to more than my share of rock and metal concerts, and everyone here looked like they were either sleep-walking, or hungover, or as if they’d finished a standardized test early and were stuck sitting at their desk with nothing to do until they were allowed to leave. 

A pack of girls in black miniskirts and corsets made their way towards me, and they seemingly did not hear me say ‘not now I’m busy’ because they kept grabbing at me. It took the rest of my makeshift entourage to pull me away from them, Rachel flexing quite a bit of muscle to keep them at bay. 

Kyle, meanwhile, was just laughing his ass off the whole time. He seemed cool enough, and he clearly adored Rose, but for the life of me I couldn’t get a read on him. 

“You know, you could have easily scored with those girls,” Rose said as we approached the bar. “Quite probably all of them at once.”

“I’m aware.”

“And yet you did nothing. Who are you and what have you done with Crispin?”

“I’m engaged,” I said flatly. 

“Fake engaged,” she pointed out as the black metal surface of the bar came within reach. “To a woman who, in your schema, feels nothing for you.”

“The engagement is fake, the commitment is real,” I shrugged. 

“God, you really are down bad,” Rose said. 

I grunted. 

“And you’re sure that she feels nothing for you?” Rose asked. 

“Positive,” I said as memories echoed through me: her lips on mine, the heat, the passion, the soul of her laid bare through her actions… 

“Kyle, love, would you care to tell my old friend here about our first kiss?” Rose said. 

Kyle laughed again. “We were here, and girls kept coming onto me, so Rose planted one on me to mark her territory. It worked.”

“But?”

“But she still hadn’t fully hatched yet, or fully admitted she was into me,” Kyle said. 

I blinked. “Okay, but that’s completely different.”

“Why?” Rose asked. 

“Because… Look, she’s a lesbian.”

“You sure about that?” Lisa said. “Because I’m a lesbian, and that was not the vibe I was getting off of her at Bar Here. The way she was looking at you… Well, I have guy friends. That’s not how I look at them. Kyle, have I ever looked at you like how Lily was looking at Cris?”

“Not even once, to my knowledge,” Kyle said. “Neither has Rachel, and she and I have literally seen each other naked.”

I  leaned against the bar, my brain a slurry of semi-solid thoughts and contradictory impulses. “Okay, but that’s just your opinion-”

“I am also a lesbian, and I agree with my beautiful wife and my bestest lesbro on this one,” Rachel said. “Honestly, even when we first met Lily a couple years back, she kinda gave off this vibe like… I dunno, like she just hadn’t really figured herself out yet. Like she was afraid to try stuff on to see what fit.”

I groaned. “Guys, I appreciate what you’re saying-”

“No you don’t,” Rose said. 

“Rude,” I replied. 

“No, it’s honest. I know you, Crispin, and I know when you’re trying to convince yourself of something that’s clearly not true.”

I groaned, looking over my shoulder at the bartender. He was busy with some unruly patrons who looked like they were trying to negotiate being able to use shards of amethyst to pay for their drinks. “And what am I trying to convince myself of, exactly?”

“That there’s no way she likes you back because that’s easier for you,” Rose said flatly. “Because if she does, if it’s even a possibility, you’re gonna want to try to make it happen, and that’s scary. And I get why, but also it’s kinda painful watching you constantly swallow your feelings in order to avoid repeating the past.”

I rubbed my eyes furiously. To my immense relief, the bartender flashed a knife at the hagglers and they went running off. He laughed as he put the knife away, then came up to us. “How can I help you fine folks?” the man’s thick baritone reached through the noise. He was short and stocky, with a bald head and a tattoo of a green Chinese dragon on his shoulder visible through his wife-beater top. 

“Looking for the manager,” I said, turning around to face him. “Need to talk to them about something.”

“Well I am he,” the man said. “Name’s Hector. How may I be of service?”

I started, “Uh, so, my… Friend, Lily-”

“His girlfriend,” Rose said. 

“Quiet, gremlin,” I said. “My friend got banned from here, and I was wondering if there was anything I could do to get that ban reversed.”

“Lily?” Hector said. “Lily DiGiacomo?”

“That’s her,” I said, hoping the lustful edge to my voice was smothered by the terrible music. I reached for my checkbook and grabbed a pen off the slick metallic surface of the bar. “How much to get her back in here?”

Hector stared at me flatly for a moment. “You know she’s gay, right?”

I flinched. She was gay. Gay gay gay gay gay. No matter how good that kiss had been, no matter how convincing her act had been, she was a lesbian and I was not going to be That Guy. “I’m aware. That’s why I said she was my friend, not my girl.”

“That’s good,” Hector said. He turned to Rose and said, “She’d fight you if you accused her of dating a guy. You know that, right?”

“I’m… Unconvinced,” Rose said. 

Hector pointed to the side, guiding our collective line of sight to a tower of framed photos on the far wall. It was a pyramid of photos that resembled mugshots, and at the top of it was Lily flipping off the camera and sneering. 

“God, she’s beautiful,” I whispered. 

“Jesus, bro,” Kyle laughed.

“That is the wall of bans,” Hector said. “Each level of the pyramid represents a different length of their ban. Bottom rung is banned for a year, second one from the bottom is banned for two years, so on and so forth. Your friend at the very top, she’s the only person who’s banned for life. Wanna know why?”

“She started a fight after someone started harassing her,” I said automatically.

“Oh, she didn’t just start a fight,” Hector laughed. “This is a goth bar: it became a brawl. A miniature riot set to music. Everyone stopped moshing and started punching. We had to fire our old band because they were fueling the flames of battle with their hard jams. Played a screamo cover of ‘Johnny I Hardly Knew Ya’ and it was a royal rumble in here instantly.”

“And that’s why you got these new losers to play?” Rachel said. 

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“What happened to the old ones?” Kyle said. 

“Got a record deal and now they’re touring South America,” Hector shrugged. “The point is, nobody has ever caused more unhinged chaos in this bar than your friend. The ban stays.”

“Gimme a number,” I said instantly. “Seriously, just gimme a number.”

“I respect the transparency of your bribery attempt, sir, but I’m afraid money is not the issue,” Hector said, arms folded. 

“Then what is?”

“Respect. We have a strict no droogery policy in this establishment, and your friend violated it fiercely with her drooge-like behavior. And now we’re stuck with this crappy band. Unless you can fix that-”

My eyes opened wide. “I have a solution.”

“Do you now?”

“Rose, is Ruth still dating that metalhead guy?”

“They’re married now and have three kids,” Rose said. 

“Does he still play and sing?”

She smirked. “Lemme see if he’s up.”

Ten minutes later, Rose’s sister and brother-in-law entered the establishment. Nathan was a skinny, olive-skinned guy in his mid-thirties with graying hair and an equally graying beard, clad in a sweater-vest and corduroys, and everyone stared at him as he made his way to the stage with his bass guitar in hand. 

The band gave him a skeptical look as he plugged his bass into the amplifier, pushed up his thick-rimmed glasses, and said, “I’m gonna lay down a rhythm for us. We’re going fast and heavy. Try to keep up.”

One of their guitarists simply said, “Bold words coming from you, nerd.”

“Hm. Nerd. Interesting. Hey, uh, see that milf in the fishnets?” he said, pointing to Ruth as she walked up to us and waved. God, the resemblance to Rose was uncanny, hair color notwithstanding. And she was in fact wearing fishnets and a black corset and heavy black eye-shadow and a silver choker with spikes on it. Holy shit, good for this guy. “That’s my wife.”

“Fuck, aight,” the guitarist said. 

Nathan did a few pelvic thrusts before he began absolutely shredding on his bass, launching into the opening bars of ‘Holy Diver’ as the rest of the band caught up. And it sounded amazing! Yeah, still no drums, but they all fell into rhythm immediately.

Soon, moshing and head-banging began in earnest, the crowd going nuts in the best way possible. “That’s my husband!” Ruth cried out as she and Rose head-banged together. 

They played a song, then another, then another, and people kept on dancing and trickling in, until finally, Hector went over to the wall and took down Lily’s photo. 

“Thank you,” I said. 

“She’s not gonna fuck you, dude,” Hector said. “You know that, right?”

My brain forced me to relive the kiss again, tender and gentle yet ravenously hungry and endlessly affectionate, but I nodded and grimaced, “Yeah. I know. But that’s not why I’m doing this.”

“You’re an idiot,” Hector said. “But it’s your life.”

***

The next place on the list was only a few blocks away. We’d left Rachel and Lisa with Ruth to keep on dancing as Nathan jammed with what was probably going to become his new band, while Rose and Kyle walked behind me arm in arm. 

The establishment, O’Donnel’s Den, was in the basement level of a bigger building. Down the flight of stairs we went, and inside, we found an Irish Step dancing competition happening in the center of the room while patrons chugged frothy pints of beer all around. The place was brightly lit, with a wooden floor and paintings of various gods and goddesses from Celtic mythology decorating the walls, and in the center of it all, the primal act of dance demanded everyone’s full attention.

“Look, Cris, you already got her unbanned from one place, she’ll be plenty grateful,” Rose said. 

“This isn’t about her gratitude, this is about us being even,” I said. “She forced herself to kiss me. She’s forcing herself to pretend she liked it. She’s forcing herself to associate with me when she could be doing anything else with her life. The least I can do-”

“Has it occurred to you that she’s thinking the same thing about you, right now?” Kyle said. “That she’s experiencing the same feelings as you?”

“How do you mean?”

“So, take this from someone who grew up modestly and then found himself attached to someone who came from money,” Kyle said, pulling Rose close. “It can be weird knowing your partner can pay for all your stuff and you can’t do anything in return because you just don’t have the means. Hell, she might feel like a gold digger-”

“Lily is not a gold digger!” I snapped. 

“If she doesn’t feel the same as you, and it’s not just money for her, then what else could it be?” Kyle asked. 

“Friendship,” I said as we made our way to the bar. 

“Yeah, I used to think it was normal for platonic friends to play tonsil-hockey with each other too,” Rose said. 

“It was for show. We just needed to be convincing-”

“Crispin, you’re from a family of stuffy Boston blue bloods: holding hands in front of them would’ve been more than enough,” Rose said. 

“What do you guys want from me here?” I groaned. 

“Nothing, dude. I barely know you,” Kyle said. 

“I just want you to be honest,” Rose said. 

I grunted again, flashing a wad of cash at the bartender and asking to speak with the manager. Soon enough, a broad-shouldered older lady with pure-white hair down to her waist stood before us. “Name’s Deirdre. How may I be of service?”

“How do you feel about bribes?” I asked. 

“Depends on the amount, and the cause of the bribe. What are you bribing me for, pretty boy?” Deirdre asked, hands on her hips, blatantly undressing me with her eyes as she looked me up and down. 

“Do you remember a woman named Lily DiGiacomo?” I asked. 

“She’s gay, pretty boy. You’re barking up the wrong tree,” Deirdre said. 

“I’m aware,” I said, the words like shrapnel in my throat. “She’s a friend of mine. I’m looking to get her ban lifted.”

“Pfft. Why?” 

“I owe her a favor,” I said. It wasn’t un-true, per se. “How much is it gonna cost?”

“Hm. Hmm hmmmm hmmmmmmm,” Deirdre said, tapping her chin with her index finger. “What indeed? What indeed?”

The music came to a halt behind us, and I turned around to see a sweaty pair of Irish step-dancers jigging about and flipping off a pair of competitors as they walked away. They were a man and a woman, a tall, muscular redhead clad in a leather jacket and leather pants, and a shirtless man in bell-bottom jeans with shoulder-length brown hair threaded with blonde highlights. Their opponents were crying, and the crowd looked downright pissed. 

“Tell you what,” Deirdre said with a smug smile. “If you can beat the reigning champions there, your friend gets her ban lifted.”

“Done!” I said, holding out a hand. She held onto it way too long as we shook, and from the look on her face, she clearly expected this to be an overwhelming victory for the house. 

I watched her go over to their string quartet, and I turned around to face Rose. “Okay. Just one problem: it looks like I need a partner for this.”

“I believe this is your cue, Briar Rose,” Kyle said. 

“You sure?” Rose asked. 

“Hey, I’d do it myself, but Step is one form of dance I’ve never mastered,” Kyle said. “You, on the other hand-”

“Won the school district’s Irish Step Competition four years in a row at Overton!” I said, fist pumping. The memories were burned into me: I was her practice partner the whole time. I never competed myself, but surely it was like riding a bicycle. 

Rose extended a hand, but looked away from me as she did, eyes locked on her fiance. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” I replied, taking her hand. 

The music played, the opening notes of, ironically enough, ‘Johnny I Hardly Knew Ye’ twanging in the air. Rose went first, offering a step, then another, then another, and after she’d done a few rotations, I began to match pace. Not quite like riding a bike, but soon enough, the music began to flow through me, and Rose and I’s steps became as one, matching the intended rhythm of the song. 

The reigning champions soon joined us on the dance floor, and the tempo of the music picked up. So did we. Soon enough, I was struggling for breath, struggling to keep up as I sweated bullets out of my chest and down my back. 

Memories overtook my mind’s eye. I’d found it odd that Rose was so interested in dancing back when we were teenagers, but I kept my mouth shut and said nothing. When she needed someone to practice with, Julia, who had two left feet, volunteered me, saying it would be a good addition to my work regiment. Reluctantly, I’d agreed, but we’d spent countless nights jigging and stepping together. Rose always gave me the strangest looks during those long nights, like she couldn’t take her eyes off of me, like I was the most important thing in the world to her. 

She was giving that look right then, but it wasn’t directed at me. It was directed at Kyle. 

And just like that, a switch in my brain flipped from ‘no clue’ to ‘gets it.’

Huh. Well, in fairness, I’d never really thought of her that way. Still, it put a lot of things in a new perspective. Namely why she took it so badly when I’d had a crush on one of her sisters… Okay, more than one of her sisters… All of her sisters except Juniper (that terrifies me). Not that anything ever happened, but still. Couldn’t help but feel I’d missed a boat on this one. 

Oh well. She and Kyle had each other, and by all outward appearances, they were basically perfect together. 

Just like Lily and Julia would be, I was sure. 

The music grew faster and faster and faster, and I genuinely wondered how much longer I could keep going before my heart exploded, but finally, the shirtless guy tripped on his partner’s feet and fell face-first to the floor. 

The crowd went wild, applauding us as our dance finally, mercifully came to a close. 

“You, sir and madam, got f’d in the a,” Rose said, wiping a layer of sweat and foundation off of her brow. 

I threw my head back and laughed. Goddammit, Rose. Bless. 

The crowd caming racing towards us, but Kyle moved the fastest. “Gonna cut in now, Winfield. Just a heads up,” he said. 

“By all means,” I said, parsing my way through the crowd as Rose and Kyle started to slow dance together. 

Rose used to like me. Probably had for most of the time we knew each other, back in the day. I’d never picked up on it even once. Did Julia know? She’d somehow known Rose was trans years in advance. Then again, given how stubbornly Rose used to insist she was a straight guy, it’s possible some kind of willful denial was going on. Like she wouldn’t let herself admit she was attracted to me, and therefore couldn’t act on it. And that had almost certainly been true of every guy she liked, until finally, she met Kyle. A guy she loved so much the attraction couldn’t be forced down any longer.

I blinked. Was it possible that Lily… 

No, no, that was just wishful thinking. She didn’t… She couldn’t actually be-

Yeah, I used to think it was normal for platonic friends to play tonsil-hockey with each other too. 

I shook my head. I was just out of sorts. Between the kiss and the weird shit with my family and seeing Julia and chugging absinthe and getting into a fucking Irish dance battle, I was out of sorts and seeing what I wanted to see. That was all there was to it. 

Honestly, even when we first met Lily, she kinda gave off this vibe like… I dunno, like she just hadn’t really figured herself out yet. Like she was afraid to try stuff on to see what fit.

Grimace intensifying, I approached Deirdre at the bar. 

“Well then, pretty boy, I hate to say it, but I’m a woman of my word,” Deirdre said, arms folded across her chest. “Lily DiGiacomo is welcome back here anytime she likes.”

“Thank you,” I said softly. 

“You know she’s not going to fuck you, right?”

Because I’m a lesbian, and that was not the vibe I was getting off of her at Bar Here. The way she was looking at you… Well, I have guy friends. That’s not how I look at them.

“It’s not about that,” I said, not believing a word out of my own mouth.

“You’re an idiot,” Deidre said. “But it’s your life.”

Now that I can believe. 

***

I bid Rose and Kyle a quick farewell as I raced off to the next bar. They were in the middle of having a grand old time together, and I didn’t want to intrude. Besides, this way I could work through more of the list without anyone badgering me about how I was Lily’s bisexual closet key or something. I mean come on, sure, I was a ladies’ man; I was a good-looking guy and I was unafraid to acknowledge it, and I kept my women happy as a matter of integrity and ethics; but I’d have to be the most arrogant, narcissistic, self-important shit-heel on the face of God’s green earth to think I was somehow giving Lily a belated sexual awakening. 

Mason Jarr’s Brewhouse sat at the end of a long row of docks. It was a one story establishment made of wood, facing the ocean. I tore open the door, legs leaden, head pounding, drenched in sweat. 

Naturally, the place was packed. Fishermen, mostly, at least by the look of it. Older white guys with thick beards and barrel-chests, a handful of younger men in jeans and flannel unbuttoned a bit on top to show off their chest hair. Most of them were chatting up girls in miniskirts and scoop-neck tops. Why the hell Lily had come here in the first place was beyond me: everything about it came off as somewhere for working class guys to score with willing women. Not her fault, obviously- she should be able to enjoy a pint and a comic in peace, but I was vaguely tempted to not bother with this one: she’d always get hit on in a place like this. Only way she wouldn’t is if she was here with someone. Someone who could run interference. Someone who could… 

I rolled my shoulders. Doesn’t matter why. And she didn’t need me to protect her. She’d made that abundantly clear several times over. 

There were nine places Lily was banned from. I could knock out three in one night, get myself a third of the way there, and go back at it next weekend. 

I walked over to the bar, a trail of female eyes following me as I walked, much to the chagrin of the various salty sea-dogs. Whatever. I wouldn’t be partaking. I couldn’t. Not while I was engaged. Sure, it was fake, but… My feelings for her weren’t. And if this little charade was the closest I’d ever get to being with her, I might as well enjoy it while I could.
Besides, the thought of touching another woman while Lily was wearing my mom’s ring made me sick to my stomach. 

“How can I help you?” a huge old white man with a great big bushy beard said from behind the bar as he approached me. He wore a blue raincoat and a black sea captain’s hat with a golden anchor emblem sewn onto it, seemingly to add to the aesthetic of it all.

“You the manager?” I asked.

“I’m better than that: I’m the owner and founder, Mason Jarr, at your service.”

“Pleasure to meet you. Name’s Cris. Got a second to talk?”

“We’ll have to walk and talk: our chef is out tonight and I’m having to go back there myself every few minutes,” Mason said. He crooked his neck and lifted up a section to guide me behind the bar. 

I followed him into the back, and was greeted by culinary chaos. 

Fish was burning. Water was boiling out of lidded pots. The deep fryer was dry but still on. A man cried rivers while chopping onions with a cleaver. The whole place smelled of salt and fat and brine and beer. 

“Jesus fuck,” I muttered. “This is gonna give me a stress-headache.”

“You and me both, boyo,” Mason said. “What did you want to discuss?” 

“I’m trying to get my friend unbanned,” I said. “Her name is Lily DiGiacomo. She-”

Mason snapped his head around to glare at me. All the noise in the room was snuffed out like a candle in the vacuum of space. All the men, women, and others in the room approached me in a circle, slowly closing in while glaring with unblinking ire. 

“We don’t speak of that name here, boyo,” Mason said in a low, ferocious tone. “That woman is a blight upon this fair drinking establishment.”

“Look, I know she threw the first punch, but the guy was harassing her!”

“And he’s been banned for life as well,” Mason said. “For their fight turned into a battle of the sexes. Man against woman. Brother against sister. Husband against wife. A boat was sunk by the end of the night.”

“You can’t possibly be serious,” I said, eyes narrowing. 

“Serious as a storm on the high seas, my lad,” Mason said. “And what’s more: the fight was so bad, an entire pot of our famed clam chowder was burned without anyone noticing.”

“You mean like that pot right there,” I groaned, pointing at a pot of chowder threatening to boil over atop the gas-burning stove. 

“Oh, God!” a tiny little slip of a man with terrible ears yelped as he rushed back over. 

I rolled my eyes as I followed him. By the time I caught up, the kid was desperately stirring the pot.

“Give me that,” I said, tearing the wooden spoon out of his hand. “You’re being too rough with it. It’ll be too thick if you keep on like this. It’s clam chowder, not clam casserole, for God’s sake.”

I gently rotated the wooden spoon inside the pot, wafting the rich, creamy scent of clam chowder. God, that was the stuff. I took a spoon to it and sampled a mouthful. “Not bad. Too much salt, though. Someone wanna add some more potatoes to sop up the excess? Oh, and some whole milk, if you guys have any lying around.”

The kid glowered at me. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Wait, wait, let him cook!” Mason said, storming over to us. He gripped me by the ear. God, this guy would get on great with my old man. “I’m assuming you know the way in which to prepare a proper chowder?”

“I do,” I said.

“Then perhaps a bargain can be struck,” Mason said. “Cook for me for an hour or two. If I like what you make, then your friend will have her ban lifted.”

“Sounds good to me,” I said, shaking the man’s hand.

“But, uh, just so you’re aware, your friend is a lesbian,” Mason said.

I grimaced. “I’m aware.”

“She’s not gonna fuck you, dude,” the kid said, still glowering. 

“Oh, be quiet, lad!” Mason bellowed. “Go swab the deck!”

“We don’t have a deck!”

“Then go build us one!”

God, Lily got banned from some weird fucking places. Whatever. 

I got to work, finding myself in my element in the kitchen. Two hours and some change later, Mason was sampling my chowder, and he looked like he’d had a transcendental moment when he tasted it. 

I stayed long enough for everyone present to be served a mug of my chowder. By the time they were done, they were raising their mason jars of beer and singing sea shanties in my honor. I grinned as I left, shouting at Mason that I was gonna hold him to his word. 

“You’re an idiot!” Mason called out to me. “But it’s your life!”

I shoved my hands in my pocket as I walked down the dock. Whatever. Mason was right. The barkeeps had all been right. She wasn’t ever going to like me back. But I could still be her friend, and if the ordeal with Julia had taught me anything, that was… Well it wasn’t just as good, but I’d take it. 

Besides, there was no way she-

My phone dinged. It was a text from Lily. ‘Babe, cum over.’

The fuck?

***

Naomi’s hours ended at 10 PM each night, and given midnight was a distant memory, I just called a rideshare to get to Lily’s place. We’d called animal control that morning, so the mink situation was dealt with, though the flooding in the basement would take longer. Oh well. I I walked up, drunken exhaustion and regular exhaustion taking their toll on me as I knocked on the door. 

Lily opened it almost immediately and draped herself over me. God, this was not gonna be easy. “Hiiiii,” she chirped. 

I sniffed her hair on reflex. Which was gross, I know, but in my defense… Actually, I got nothing. Judge me for that one. “Yes you are, by the smell of it.”

“I ammm,” she intoned. “Cross-faded, to be precise.”

She peeled herself off of me, and it felt like my skin was getting torn off. I wanted to keep holding her. I wanted to feel her skin against mine. I wanted to pick her up and pin her against the wall and plunge into her with my dick, make her eyes roll back into her head as she screamed my name. Like I said, go ahead and judge. I’m a piece of shit. 

It didn’t help that she’d apparently decided that Rose’s preferred style of sleepwear (a baggy t-shirt and nothing else, giving me a solid view of her long, toned legs and her erect nipples poking through the yellow fabric) was something that she wanted to try out, too. Her hair was wet and her face was bereft of makeup, but dammit, it didn’t matter. It had never mattered.

She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid eyes on. 

“I’m pretty buzzed myself, to be honest,” I said as she dragged me by the wrist towards her living room. The fire was crackling in the hearth, while the television was paused on a black screen. 

“Hee hee,” she intoned again. “Do you want an edible? Or a smoke?”

“I’ll take an edible,” I said. I mean, why not? It would probably get me through whatever this conversation was going to be without freaking out. “You shouldn’t smoke after you shower, you know. The smoke can irritate your skin, so it’s better to wash yourself after the fact.”

“I didn’t know that!” she said, plopping onto the couch and bringing me down with her. I landed spread across her lap, and when I tried to sit up, she held me there. And then she started stroking my hair. 

Huh. 

“There’s so much stuff I don’t know yet,” she said, her fingers running through my hair and passing over my scalp, a light, gentle touch that showed me a relaxation I’d never before known possible. I liked every version of her: grumpy and combative, dorky and giggling, but this version… Soft and gentle and vulnerable… This one was my favorite. “Maybe that’s why I never tried anything. Never… You know, experimented?”

“Uh-”

“It overwhelmed me, how much stuff goes into… Everything. And it was easier to not bother with anything at all. Like a… A… What do you call a monk who denies himself all earthly pleasures?”

“An ascetic,” I answered, trying not to get lost in the sensation of her hands on me. It wasn’t easy. Her touch was… Would it be wrong to call it angelic? “But I’m not really sure that’s you.”

“Mmm, I think it is. I’m an ascetic when it comes to being a girl.”

“You know there’s more than one way to be a girl, right?”

“I know,” Lily said. “That’s just it, though: I’ve only ever tried one way. Now I… I wanna try something different.”

“Cool. Very cool. How’d it go with Julia?” I asked, dreading the answer.

“Oh, it was nice, she’s lovely, but I don’t think I’ll be pursuing it further.”

“What? Why not?” I asked, looking up from her lap, her giant boobs obstructing my view of her face. 

She reached for a packet of gummies on the cushion next to her and took one out. “Open wide,” she said in a sing-song tone. 

Blinking rapidly, I obliged, and she deposited the weed gummy in my mouth. 

Huh. 

“I… Have a lot going on in my life right now,” Lily said, resuming stroking my hair as the hearthlight warmed us in the darkened living room. Void was sleeping in a makeshift hutch on the floor, and Rob must’ve been upstairs. So it was just us. If anyone saw us right now, devoid of context, it would almost look like… “I think the fake relationship is gonna keep me plenty busy for a while. And besides, what if your creepy brother saw me cheating on you?”

“That… Okay, that would be bad, I guess,” I said. 

“Plus… I dunno. When I was out, I was thinking about you the whole time.”

HUH. “You were?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I wanna be friends, Cris. We’re gonna be seeing each other non-stop, and I really like hanging out with you. Fooling around with you is a lot of fun.”

“Phrasing, Lily,” I sputtered. 

She stuck her tongue out at me, then said, “I know. I did it on purpose.”

“Of course you did.”

Her voice slipped into that accent, that character, that version of herself. Lady Lily, one might call her. “Oh my darling Crispin, dearest douchebag, I would only fool around with you, my love!”

I groaned. “I thought I told you never to do that again.”

“Guess you’ll just have to make me,” she said, poking my nose. 

“God, you’re a brat.”

She winked. “Guess you’ll have to punish me.”

HUH! “Right. Yeah. Uh, so-”

“I wanna apologize to you,” she said, back to her normal voice. 

“W-what for?” 

“For kissing you earlier. It was… I mean, I should’ve asked in advance if that was okay.” 

“I mean I feel like I should be apologizing to you,” I said. “You felt like you had to do it, and I’m sure you must’ve hated it-”

“I didn’t hate it,” she said. 

My eyes bulged. I finally pulled myself out of her lap and looked at her intensely. “Y-you didn’t?”

“Nope,” she said, smiling coyly. 

“But you’re-”

“I think I like acting,” Lily said. “Or at least, I like roleplay.”

My dick got hard at the utterance of ‘roleplay.’ “Huh.”

“Yeah. It was fun. And we’ll have to kiss a lot to sell the bit, so I may as well get used to it. That’s okay, right?”

“Yeah, that’s cool,” I said before I could stop myself. Why am I so dumb?

“Good,” she said. And then she leaned in, eyes closed, lips puckered. 

God, this girl was gonna kill me. 

Unless… Maybe… MAYBE-

She opened her eyes and laughed raucously. Fuck, of course she had a cute laugh, too. 

“I, uh, got you unbanned from three bars tonight,” I said.

“You did!? Holy shit, Cris! Thank you!” she squealed. “See, this is what I mean! You’re doing all this stuff for me, and I keep making things more complicated for you. I don’t deserve you as a fiance!”

I wanted very much to say ‘fake fiance’, but… Fuck, I just couldn’t. “I like hanging out with you too. I wanna be friends with you too. You’re… I have fun when I’m around you.”

“You like roleplaying with me?” she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes enhanced by the orange-gold aura of the fire. 

“Yes,” I blurted. Fucking absinthe. 

“Good,” she said, grabbing my arm and nuzzling my shoulder. So this was cross-faded Lily. I hated how much I liked it. Liked her. But, given the general wisdom that states of inebriation brought to surface what was already underneath, maybe it was possible that-

“Do you mind if I crash here tonight?” I asked. 

“I don’t mind one bit if you sleep with me,” she said. 

MAYBE. “You mean sleep here, right?”

She shrugged. 

Holy shit. 

Enthusiasm bloomed in my chest and my head like a garden in the height of spring. It was dampened only by the fact that there was every possibility she wouldn’t remember this conversation when she woke up. 

“Mmm I just remembered why I asked you to come over, babe!” she said. 

“Oh?”

“We need to get to know each other even better if we have to keep up the pretense,” she said, bouncing up and down in her seat. Fuck. Fuck, so fucking cute fucking fuck. “So, I had an abso-brilliant idea! We do a thing I like, and then a thing you like, trading off.”

“I like that,” I said. It was smart. And gave us an excuse to see more of each other outside of work, and it would be almost like… 

Almost like we were really dating. The ‘maybe’ was becoming stronger by the minute. 

“So, ladies first,” she said. “I recorded my wrestling show for us to watch together.”

“Okay,” I said. “You know that it’s f-”

“Yes, douchebag, I am in fact aware that when I sit down to watch pro wrestling, I am watching scripted entertainment,” she rolled her eyes. And there she was. There was that wicked tongue I adored so much. Dammit, I loved it when she was mean to me, even if it also made me fantasize about bending her over my knee and smacking her on the ass while she screamed my name with lust and desperation. 

Shit, I did like roleplaying with her. A lot.

“Okay. Let’s watch some wrestling. You can tell me who everyone is as we go,” I said with my softest smile.

“Mmm you have a pretty smile,” she said, looking me straight in the eyes. 

And the way she was looking at me… 

It was the same way Rose used to look at me. It was the same way she looked at Kyle now. It was the way Lisa and Rachel looked at each other. It was, I had a funny feeling, the way I used to look at Julia.