The Porn Identity

Chapter 18

       "Yes, you are."

       "Alright, fine! Sorry! Could you hurry it up?"

       I stopped right at the top of the stairwell and rest my free hand on the upper railing. "I don't understand why you're so upset!"

       I could tell he was trying and failing to control his volume. "It's been a long day. I'm hungry. I'm tired. I'm ready to eat."

       I could hear my own voice starting to mimic his hectic anger. "But why are you taking that out on me? I didn't make your day long and tiring."

       "I don't want to talk about it."

       "That's fine, but clearly whatever it is it's bothering you."

       Another long sigh; this time twice as exasperated. "How many times do I have to tell you I'm fine?"

       "Until it's actually true."

       "Why can't you just leave it alone?"

       "Am I supposed to just ignore it when my boyfriend is so obviously upset?"

       "Yeah. That'd be great." He said it kind of sassily but I'm not sure if that was sarcasm or not.

      "That's ridiculous."

       "No, what's ridiculous is me having to keep explaining this to you like you're goddamn five! Do me a favor and cut the mommy shit for tonight so I can eat my food in peace!"

       Deep breaths, Evie. "Okay, I know you're going through something, but I'll be damned before I let anyone talk to me like that." I turned right around and started marching back to my door. "So, how about you don't call me until after you fix that stank ass attitude."

       "Well, fine. I—"

       I wished to God I was talking on an old timey phone so I could slam that shit down, but a hang-up would have to suffice for today. By the time I got back inside he hadn't called back. That made me even more mad for some reason. Like, I don't want to talk to him right now, but a little goddamn remorse wouldn't hurt.

       Since my dinner plans were ruined, I stomped back to my room and unpretty-ed myself to a chorus of delightful curses, such as:

       "Ol' fat-headed ass..." and "He needs to get some fucking therapy, that's what he needs..." and "He can go fuck himself. Literally..." and "Talking to me like he crazy! He ain't that cute!"

       After I calmed down, which took half a glass of wine and several deep breaths, I realized I was still hungry, so I nuked some leftover chicken and rice in the microwave and watched Jeopardy to get my mind right. By the time the episode was over my plate was clean, washed, and put away and my thoughts were on other things besides insensitive boyfriends.

       Noah used the Circle K at Lennox and Murphey for his meet up spot to collect his 'fees' from his victims. I wonder if an employee would recognize either him or David?

       I wouldn't figure that out sitting here watching tv, so I got up, put some pants on and pulled my hair—lusciously curled by the way—into a bun. Then I grabbed my keys and took off into the night without giving Manny another thought.

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       The Circle K on Lennox was bigger than I'd imagined. I usually got my gas at the Shell's near my apartment, which was on a small lot with only four pumps and a convenience store that was two short aisles of junk food and a Slurpee machine I never paid attention to. But to be fair, the Shell's had been built twenty years ago before gas station convenience stores turned into mini supermarkets or whatever.