“That poor man.”
“Quite the opposite, actually. He wants her—“
“Why?”
“Because she’s chaste.” The very thought causes my eyes to roll into the back of my head. “And he’s old school like that, I suppose. Hard to get inside a man’s head, so I’m full of assumptions.”
“It amazes me you can be full of anything but cock.”
I throw another pillow, but he’s able to catch it again. “And I’m the crude one?”
“I’ll do it. I’ll ruin her, and I’ll make sure Rafe knows.”
“See? Who says we always have to be on opposing sides. When we’re not trying to outmaneuver each other, we make a great team.” I rise to my feet and throw my hand out.
“That’s what I’ve been saying.” He reaches for my hand as he stands, and grips my hand firmly.
“Easy, boy.”
“I am going to fuck you so hard you’re not going to be able to walk in graduation.”
“You’ll be fucking nothing but a stuffed toy. There’s a sale of fleshlights online right now. If I were you, I’d shell out the eighty dollars for a pussy that won’t resist your disgusting advances.”
“It wasn’t disgusting before.”
“That was then. This is now and you’re going to be late for your massage so get the fuck out.”
And with that, we finalize our handshake. Unbeknown to him, his path to victory just became a hell of a lot more difficult. With someone like Cece clinging to his every step, he’ll be lucky if he has time to jerk off every morning.
15
What is the difference between an illusion and a magic trick? An illusion never exists in the first place. An illusion is a beautiful lie, a trick that affects your mind. A magic trick, however, is oftentimes tangible and real. Whether it’s a twist of fate, or a twist of a knife from an unknown attacker.
Magic tricks—like the best yogurts—aren’t just for kids. Some of the greatest acts of magic one is likely to ever witness are for adults only. This is one of those tricks.
Cece—I imagine—was a nun in her former life, if you are to believe that reincarnation bullshit, that is. If she wasn’t a nun, then I’m certain she was at least in attendance at some musky convent.
After I’m done with her, and the transformation is complete, she’ll be a clone of me. If that’s not the magic trick of the century—worthy of a televised special—then I don’t know nothing about anything.
It’s a beautiful spring day, where the cool wind blows against my warm skin under the light of the afternoon sun. There’s not a cloud in sight—a perfect rendition of the Carolina sky.
Cece sits in a stitched-back patio chair across the table from me. She’s dressed less modestly than before, with a tank top exposing the top of her breasts, layered over a pair of faded jeans. Her hands are folded over her lap. She’s out of place and nervous, and it shows.
I had offered a drink, but she insisted she desired to head into the night with a clear mind. So, once again, I seem to be drinking alone. I take a sip of mimosa.
“Are you nervous?” I ask her with a purposeful tone of concern.
“I haven’t been on a date in years.”
“This isn’t a date in the literal sense,” I remind her. “This date has nothing to do with matters of the heart.”
“Ugh,” she groans. “Why can’t I just meet someone on Craigslist?”
“Because the internet is full of creeps, Cece. Do you want to be on Channel Ten News as a breaking story as you are carried out of a crazy man’s basement, rescued after ten years of torture?”
“That’s… oddly specific.”
“Just remember a few things.” I rest my elbows on the table and lean close to her. It’s imperative that she hears what comes next. “I like to call them the rules of innocence.”
She arches her brow. “You mean like that trashy reality show.”
“No,” I huff. I’m still a little testy about the existence of that show. Brick and I were basically the prototypes, and yet, we earned no credit. “Have I told you the rules?”
“I don’t believe so.”
“Fuck who you want. Fuck when you want. Keep your heart protected, and never, under any circumstances, fall in love.” I throw myself back in my chair, proud of myself for my perfect delivery.
“I love Rafe.”
“Well…” I stutter. “It’s alright to fall in love with him.” I want to continue, to drill it into her head that it’s a little creepy for her to love someone she has hardly said a word to. For logistical reasons, I don’t. I say all of this, knowing it’s all bullshit. Cece is going to fall for Brick harder than the hammer of Thor. It’s the rules I choose to live my life by, but I’m stronger than her. Her heart is going to snap like a twig.
“What if I can’t do it?” she asks while fiddling with her thumbs and biting into her lip nervously.
“Do you want Rafe?”
She nods.
“Then don’t ask that question again. Doubt is a powerful tool of the devil.”
“What does he look like?”
“He looks like an asshole.”
“That’s promising.”
“He’s tall and handsome. Muscular, but not too big. His eyes will pierce right through your soul, and his tattoos are a beautiful tapestry—“ Dear God, I sound like I’m in love with him…
“Tattoos?” Her eyes almost bulge out of her sockets while she shakes her head. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
Really? Tattoos are going to be the thing that breaks the camel’s back. “Don’t you think that’s ridiculous, Cece? Not to mention, judgmental.”
“I’m sorry,” she shrieks. “I’m not used to this sh—stuff.”
I reach across the table and grab her hands in a comforting gesture. “Everybody starts somewhere. The tangled world of intersex relationships is a ship sailing on rugged waters. It’s complicated and often difficult. I’m trying to make it easier for you to navigate.”
She sighs and chews into her lip. “What would you do if you were me?”
“I would fuck everyone that I could.”
“You do that, anyway.”
“Point taken.” I tilt my head and ponder her question. “I guess I’m built this way, no matter the external components around me. If I were you, I’d really just be me. I always will be.”
“How are you so strong?” Her eyes glaze over mine. “How do you do it?”
“I have faith.”
“You’re religious?”
“My faith is the theory that men will be men, and women will be women unless they take control of their own stories.”
“My mom says that women have a place—“
“I’m sorry, Cece.” I wave a hand at her.” I’m going to have to cut you off. Your mother is an idiot.”
“So you’ve said,” she says and reaches for my now-warm mimosa. “I’m not saying I agree with her—“
“Good.”
She chugs the remainder of my drink and sits the glass onto the table. “It’s just hard to reconcile my upbringing with the realities of this world.”
The doorbell rings in the knick of time, because I’ve had enough of this damn conversation. I smile and jump to my feet. “Okay, he’s here.”
She looks toward the patio door and blows out a stream of nervous air. “I don’t know—“
“Everything is going to be fine.” I reach for her hand and assist her to her feet. “Just remember what we talked about.”
“Quick dinner. Avoid beans. Netflix. Condoms. Sex. Don’t fall in love,” she says, running down the list of things I told her. “I think that covers it.” She smiles nervously and slides the patio door open as the doorbell rings again.
“You’re going to be fine,” I promise her and stroke my fingers through her hair. I can say what I want to say, but I care for this girl. It makes this easier, but it also makes it harder. Perhaps she stands a chance on her own, without my interference. I’ll never know, she means too much in this game to let her escape now. It’s too late. “You’re going to be fine.”