Pretty Hate (New Adult Novel) (6 page)

“That’s a nice place,” Rebel Love said. “I’m excited for you. What’s this guy look like?”

“Man, he’s hot,” I said and smiled.

“So hot,” Stephanie said.

“Oh, well as long as he’s hot, excuse me,
so
hot, I guess you won’t mind when you got crabs crawling all over your privates!” Ivory-Lou said as he picked up the book and tapped me on the head with it again.

“He’s not going to give me crabs! What are you going on about? Crabs and VD? You don’t even know this guy.”

“That’s my motherfucking point,” he said and stared at me.

“I have no idea...let’s move on. Rebel Love, can I borrow your car tomorrow night, please? I don’t want to get dropped off for my first date.”

“Yes, no problem,” she said. “Just be careful. Hey, what time do you work tomorrow?”

“I’m gonna go,” Stephanie said and hopped up from the coffee table.

I stared at her and shook my head and mouthed
no
. When I looked up, Ivory-Lou stared down at me.

“Uh, Stephanie,” Ivory-Lou said and put his hands behind his back, “is anyone expecting you?”

“Um,” Stephanie said and swallowed hard, “do you mean like tonight or forever?”

“Have a seat, Stephanie. Beth, your sister asked you a question...what time do you work tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I know, what’s the big deal?”

“You haven’t answered her,” Ivory-Lou said and sat down next to me. “Beth, what time do you work tomorrow? Look at me...right here.”

Ivory-Lou tapped the side of his eye and nodded.

“I don’t,” I said and looked at the floor.

“Eyes up here, Beth,” Ivory-Lou said and tilted my chin up. “Now, why don’t you work tomorrow?”

“Jesus Christ, do all pimps go through some sort of CIA interrogation training?”

“I’m not a pimp, once again. I am a goddamned matchmaker! Why aren’t you working?”

“Okay! I got fired! I got fired tonight because someone spray-painted I’ll Hump Ya In The Dumpsta, Garbage Girl across the front of The Bookworm!”

“Oh, Beth,” Rebel Love said and laughed.

Stephanie snorted soda out of her nose and Ivory-Lou’s eyes started watering as he tried to bite back his smile.

“Oh,” he said and coughed, “I’ll hump ya in the dumpsta? Creative. So, you’re telling us you are currently unemployed.”

“Obviously,” I said and shook my head. “Don’t worry, I’ve got some saved and I’ll pay you your rent, whatever that is.”

“You lost your job, you better find another one, pronto or I’ll send you to live with that crazy, glue-eating aunty of yours.”

The next day I woke up feeling sick over Billy and his illegitimate love-child and nervous about my date with Nicolas.

“Oh, princess is awake, finally? So, that’s how it’s gonna be?” Ivory-Lou said as I walked out into the living room. “Sleeping ‘til noon?”

“I didn’t sleep well last night,” I said as I poured some coffee.

“You must be excited about your date,” Sadie said from the living room.

“Yeah, I think so,” I said as I sipped my coffee. “I’m kind of scared he won’t show.”

“Why would he go to all that bother with the book bullshit and not show?” Yolanda said as she sat at the granite bar next to Ivory-Lou.

“I don’t know,” I said and sighed. “But I think it’s been proven that I don’t have the best luck when it comes to men.”

“Yeah,” Ivory-Lou said, “got that right.”

“Thanks, friend,” I said.

“What are you gonna wear?” Ivory-Lou said.

“Don’t know. Jeans and a sweater.”

“Jeans
,” Ivory-Lou said and shook his head.

“Yeah,
jeans
. We’re going to the Atherton. It’s a casual place.”

“You want a second date with this bozo, don’t you?” Ivory-Lou said and put down his magazine.

“That would be the plan.”

“Then put some effort in. If you want to wear jeans, do your hair nice...your makeup. Overcompensate.”

“Well, thank you, Rachel Zoe. I read
Cosmo
too. I got it.”

“Fuck you, then,” Ivory-Lou said and picked up his magazine.

“Why don’t you let me and Yolanda help you?” Sadie said.

Yolanda looked at me and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, I guess we can help you,” Yolanda said.

The girls fussed and fawned over me for the rest of the afternoon. A few more girls came over and they helped too. It was like a big party of sisters. Hooker sisters, but sisters nonetheless.

Ivory-Lou sat on my bed and watched them while he thumbed through my
Glamour
magazine and supervised the whole operation.

“Gemini,” he said to one of the girls, “do not use blue on her! Her eyes are blue, for fuck’s sake. Contrast! Purples, greens or blacks!”

I looked at him in my vanity mirror and smiled.

Rebel Love woke from her nap and stood in the doorway.

“Well, you sure do look pretty!”

“Yeah, baby,” Ivory-Lou said, “check out the evil step-hookers getting Cinderunemployed ready for the ball.”

“Cute,” I said and rolled my eyes.

At 5:15, I stood in the foyer while everyone clapped and told me I looked beautiful. And, I kind of felt it.

“Tell me it’s going to be okay,” I said to Rebel Love as she handed me her car keys. “Tell me this guy is not going to fuck me over.”

“I can’t do that, honey. But I can say, if this guy does fuck you over, he’s as clueless as the others.”

Ivory-Lou walked me to the car to show me the key system.

“Now, you have a full tank in there. You know where you’re going?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“No joyriding drunk,” he said as he waved at one of the neighbors who jogged by.

“Do you think the neighbors wonder why you’re always in bright silk robes and slippers in the afternoon?” I said and laughed.

“I don’t give a good goddamn what they think! I pay my taxes in this rich-ass neighborhood. Probably more taxes than they do! Now, you got any protection?”

“Jesus, Ivory-Lou, I don’t know if we’re gonna have sex tonight!”

“Weapons, chickenhead,” he said and smacked me in the arm with the newspaper. “Weapons...mace, brass knuckles, knife?”

“This guy reads Camus.”

“I don’t care what he reads. Remember that take-down move I showed you?”

“Yep, palm to nose, hit up.”

“Yeah, good. And kick out the knee.”

“Yes, the knee. Okay, I’m gonna go now.”

I got in the car and smiled as I watched Ivory-Lou watch me until I left the driveway.

When I got to the pub, I spotted Nicolas sitting on a bench looking at his phone. I stood behind a tree and watched him for a minute as I tried to calm down. But the more I looked at him, the more nervous I became. Finally, I unhitched my fingers from the tree and walked up to the bench.

I stood in front of him and he looked up from his phone and inhaled.

“Beth,” he said and smiled.

“Hi, have you been waiting long?”

“I was early,” he said. “I timed my drive with Brooklyn traffic in mind.”

“So, yeah, Brooklyn...I want to hear all about it.”

“Do you want to go in?” he said as he stood from the bench.

He walked toward me and put his hands on my wrists. They were smooth and warm and strong.

“You look beautiful,” he said and kissed my cheek. “Thank you for meeting me.”

I dug my nails into my palms to keep from grabbing him.

He took my hand and led me into the pub. The hostess seemed like she was flirting with him. I suddenly felt fat.

We sat across from one another and I stared at the menu. I was scared that I was going to get carded. I looked up at him and he stared at me over his menu. I wondered if I had something on my face.

“Your eyes are so blue,” he said, “they’re almost black. Do you know what you want? Are you hungry?”

“No. Just beer.”

“Oh,” he said as he smiled, “okay. Just beer it is, then.”

“I mean
a
beer, not like a whole bucket. I’ll probably have more than one, um, they serve buckets here, but I always thought that was horrid, you know? A trough of beer? Um, just a beer.”

He laughed and looked down at his hands.

“I’m sorry,” I said and took a deep breath, “I’m nervous.”

“It’s okay. I am too.”

Nicolas ordered two beers and took his jacket off. He wore a black t-shirt that had the picture of a band I never heard of on the front. He worked out. He didn’t have crazy, meathead muscles, but he was tight.

“Do you like it here?” he said.

“It’s not a bad place. Not like the usual redneck bars.”

“No, I mean West Virginia,” he said as the waitress came over.

She put the beers on the table and I do believe she flirted with him as well.

“Oh,” I said when she left, “no. I don’t like it here much at all.”

“Why not? It’s beautiful. So much to see.”

He took a sip of his beer and licked his lips. His tongue was red like he sucked on a cherry Popsicle before he came. Merry-Bell always says you can tell a lot about a man by inspecting his tongue.

“I grew up here,” I said, “so, I guess when you grow up in a place, you only ever dream about getting out of that place.”

“Why don’t you?” he said as he rubbed his fingertips around the condensation on the beer can.

“What, get out? Oh, I will,” I said. “Why are you here?”

“You mean Charleston or existentially?”

“Charleston,” I said and smiled.

“Good, I made you smile. Well, I live in Brooklyn, as you know, but I’ve been here a few weeks. My cousin Michael lives here.”

“Big difference, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said and nodded. “My turn. Do you like working at the bookstore?”

“Um, well, I like to read, but otherwise, no. What do you do?”

“I’m a writer. Non-fiction, mostly. I write for a few publications. I’m working on a book.”

“That’s really cool. What’s the book about?”

“Well,” he said and took a sip of his beer, “do you know the SOA?”

“Yeah, of course, we are in the south,” I said and drank some beer. “People are into that thing. I’m not, you know... bikers and whatnot.”

“Really?” he said and shook his head. “I didn’t think...wait, are you talking about the T.V. show?
Sons of Anarchy
?”

“Um, yeah,” I said as my face got warm. “Aren’t you?”

“No, he said. “I’m talking about the School of Americas, it’s sometimes called the School of Assassins...SOA.”

“Oh, wow,” I said as I rubbed my temple. “I feel--”

“But that’s a good show,” he said and put his hand over mine. “I like it.”

He looked at me and nodded as I wanted to melt into the floor. It was the garbage can scene all over.

“Hey, let’s start again, okay?” he said. “Ask me what my book is about?”

“Um, Nicolas, what is your book about?”

“Gee, I’m glad you asked, Beth,” he said and smiled. “I was in Thailand a few months ago researching and I discovered they have a school in this remote area just like the SOA, so I got my idea from that research.”

“Interesting. Thailand? You must travel a lot.”

“I do...I love it. Where have you gone?”

“Not many places,” I said.

“Yet
,” he said and ordered two more beers.

“Yet,” I said and laughed.

“You will. You seem like you have a little gypsy in you.”

“Yeah, well, you never know,” I said and looked down.

“Why do you get shy when I ask you questions?”

“Do I?”

“You seem like you do.”

“My life,” I said and sighed, “could probably be summed up in a paragraph of one-syllable words.”

“I’m sure that’s not true, Beth.”

“I like the way you say my name,” I said and looked down at the table.

“Tell me about your family,” he said. “Do you have brothers? Sisters? What do your parents do?”

There is a pivotal point in every interaction between humans which sets the course in their relationship. Do you hide or do you shine? Which way are you going to go? Hide or shine?

I chose to hide. And lie.

“I have two sisters. My mother, well, my mother and father...my father is dead.”

“Man, I’m sorry,” he said.

“No big deal,” I said and finished my first beer.

“It is a big deal, Beth. A really big deal.”

“Ah, I’m fine. What about you?”