Conceit

“Did you have any boyfriends?”

“No, just sex. Mommy wanted me to have a sense of self-confidence and a strong notion of who I was before I dated, but those would have made me impossible at home. And there’s something else you’ll find out about later. If you’re lucky. I used to worry about guys finding out, but I haven’t met one who didn’t love it.”

“Can I have a hint.”

I smiled and bumped into him, .hard on purpose. “Oh, all right. I have a really big dick. But it’s immaculately shaved and uncircumcised. And it doesn’t get hard without pills, so it’s more of a useless girl clit.”

He pulled me close. “And did it come from your wonderful, magical pet unicorn that hides frrom everyone but you?”

I rolled my eyes. Idiot.

The panel slid outward, not to the side. Outward as a drawer. Indeed, it seemed to be a drawer for four rabbits wearing small metal bead collars with tags. I grabbed one. “Fizzy.” Then “Fuzzy.” Then “Big.” I stood and kicked the rabbit drawer. The little person on the ground pointed and snarled. “Fizzy, Fuzzy, Big,  and Buzzy didn’t do one fucking thing to  you. Not one of them.”

“Do you remember what you told Beth?” she asked. “Do you remember that you wanted a whirlwind romance, the be married and madly in love? Do you remember that love like yours should never fade, that murder-suicide is the only acceptable end to love like that?” Guang leveled the gun at me. “I won’t share you, Bobby.” Beth’s glance said I knew this would happen one day.

“You’re explaining how you feel and what you want. English isn’t meant to do that. It’s meant to divide and conquer, not bring us together. If anything reeks of white male, it’s the English idiom.”

“Rose is a linguistics major.”

I nodded. “Thanks for the explanation, Butch.”

“You are so teasing me right now. You know that, right?”