16
I SIT ON THE COUCH and drink in agony. Ten o'clock. This is it. Stranglehold is cued up on the stereo. My fingers and wrists are stretched out so as not to pull a muscle. I've never choked anyone before but imagine it's quite a workout, and although Paiger's kinda tiny something tells me she's a fighter. I must be prepared.
A frying pan close by never hurt.
There's a knock on the door, here we go.
“Come in.”
She does, the one and only Paige Scott, carrying a sleek black briefcase and a sour look. I laugh.
“A black briefcase? Really?”
“It's all I had laying around.”
“Ha! You kill me, Paiger.”
She shuts the door and puts the briefcase on the table. I expect her to take off her coat but she just stands there, arms crossed. I sip.
“Well... drink?”
“No, thanks.”
I laugh again. “Come on, Paiger. This is a celebration! Your book is going to be a success. And me... well, I'm ten thousand dollars richer.” I sip again. “I insist... have a drink with me.”
She sighs, but relaxes and sits on the couch. “All right, just one. Make it strong, will you?”
I smile, go to the kitchen, mix her a tall vodka nothing. She has no idea what's about to happen. In less than five minutes everything is going to change. A wrong will be put right and another wrong will set things right. Justice will be served and I can die happy.
It's the perfect finale.
I resist the temptation to spit in Paiger's glass and bring it to her. Then sit down. One last drink together, in our final moments. How appropriate.
I hold mine up.
“Cheers, Paiger.”
“Cheers.”
We drink, I savor, she nearly gags.
“Jesus, is this just vodka?”
“Is it? I thought it was water. My bad.”
“Funny, Jim.”
“Thanks.”
“So the money's all there. Do you want to count it?”
“You count it.”
She sips her vodka again, glaring at me, but lays the briefcase on the table and opens it.
And ooh la la la la.
Cold hard cash.
She starts counting it. I watch intently, partly because I don't trust her, but mainly because I forgot what it was like to be her friend. There was a point where I actually cared about this girl. We were close once. I trusted her. And she seemed to care, too. Was that all an act? Did she ever really care?
“Hey.”
I kick the table, and the money almost falls off. She straightens it without looking at me.
“Don't do that. I almost lost count. Hey, what?”
“Hey. You suck, you know that?”
She looks at me, then slowly goes back to counting.
“Yeah, I know I do.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“I'd be disappointed if ---”
“Did you ever give a shit about me at all? Like, as a human? As a God's honest person?”
“Jim...” She finishes counting, and as I haven't been counting along or even paying attention she closes the briefcase. “I cared about you a lot. More than... more than you know.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nevermind.”
“No, tell me. This information is paramount.”
“How much have you had to drink?”
“Oh, plenty.”
“Then I'm not really in the mood to discuss it.”
I sigh, sip. “Well, this could be the last chance we have to discuss it. I don't really see myself calling you up for a chat anytime soon. So, you know... just fucking come out with it.”
She looks at me for a moment with those eyes of green and they pierce me like always. She sips, sighs. “All right. That first night we talked, I kind of developed a crush on you.”
“What?”
“Come on, Jim. Did you really think Ellen's feelings in the book were purely fictitious? You're cute. You're funny. And you talk with such passion... I was actually jealous of Kara. You were just so into her. I remember really wanting you, so much to the point that I let myself drink more than I should've, to see if a little liquid courage would allow me to go for it. I wound up biting your nose instead. And the more we talked the more I realized it was never going to happen, because you were so in love with Kara that it would've taken an army of me's to distract you. Maybe that wouldn't have even worked, I don't know.”
I drink, mouth gaping. She drinks and continues:
“So I decided to just get the information and not let my feelings go any further than that... and the more we talked and the more you told me about Kara, the easier it was. You were so hung up. All those phone calls, all your stupid botched attempts to make her feel special. You showed too much too soon, with both of us. It seems to be a pattern in your life, one that's not doing you any good.”
“Don't fucking psychoanalyze me!”
“I'm not! I'm not. I'm just saying, look where being you has gotten you.”
I take a long hard swig. “You know what? Fuck you, Paiger. Go fuck yourself.”
“Hey, if it wasn't for me you'd still be a nothing!” Her voice rises. I sit back. “Loathing yourself and drinking your life away. An alkie. At least you got a taste of what it's like to be a normal adult. Hopefully it was enough to make you want to stay. Stay and be something.”
“The days of me being anything are over.”
She shakes her head. “If you want to go back to your old ways, that's your choice. Ten thousand dollars will buy a lot of cheap vodka.” She swigs to match me. “And you know what? None of this would've happened if you didn't have such a big mouth.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
“No, really. I'll admit that after the interview I was curious what your deal was, but my interest didn't really peak until I talked to Phil.”
“Who the fuck is Phil?”
“Phil Jinx. Your driver that morning.”
I close my eyes as the room starts to spin.
“You... talked to Phil.”
“He told me that you told him about this birthday party you and Kara were at and how you both got fucked up and made each other cry and all this other dramatic shit and... well, I was moved. I thought it was romantic. I knew there had to be a great story there, and the fact that you were willing to be so honest and tell a complete stranger all those intimate details made you a reporter's wet dream. But you never called me back. Two years went by, and I'd forgotten all about it, but then there you were in that bar, and I couldn't not confront you. Then you told me all that shit and I was hooked.” She swigs again. “Once I realized Kara was back in town, I had my angle. I knew I could crack you like a nut, and I did. It was a good story. We have a good story. And even though it took us all this time to finally get to the end, we got here. Here we are.”
“And here is just so goddamn wonderful.”
“Do you hate me?”
“You're not my favorite person in the world.”
“I don't doubt it.”
“So why the happy ending?”
“You mean in the book?”
“Yeah. You let me and Kara wind up together. Even though you knew... you knew that wasn't gonna happen.”
“It happened.”
“An ending is just that – the end. Once she finds out the truth, it's over.”
“Every ending's a beginning, Jim.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, it's that simple. Keep telling yourself that, Paiger.” I drink. So does she. Then:
“Since we probably won't ever see each other again, I guess I should finally tell you the truth. The whole truth, that is.”
Nausea sets in. My stomach lurches as I shudder to think what more this five foot five bundle of evil could do to destroy me.
“There was never a news story. This whole thing, seducing you into spilling your guts, was just so I could write a book about it. I like being a reporter, but really, I'm a writer at
heart. And you... you were the perfect subject.”
She somehow manages to trump herself every time. My legs go numb, and she leans closer.
“And I knew that if I let you write the book, it'd be some depressing, crybaby narrative that reads like a teenage girl's diary and probably ends with you killing yourself.”
“Ha!” I squirm.
“Yeah, ha. Well, that ending sucks. So I made it a happy one. For you. Maybe that'll inspire you to create a great life for yourself after all this is over.” She downs her drink and stands. “I should go.”
I down mine, cross over to the stereo, hit play. Stranglehold starts. I crack my knuckles and blow hot air into my fists. This is it. If I'm going to do it, it has to be now, and now there's more reason than ever. All of this, everything, was based on a lie. We deserve to die, both of us, if only to make the world that much better of a place. Two people like us, who care about nothing and no one but themselves, two people who lie and manipulate and use, two people that shouldn't be allowed to talk to any of the other humans because it only leads to hurt and pain and heartbreak. Loneliness, anger, disappointment. Death.
Life will be better without us. Smooth sailing.
I will miss Kara, though.
The song is in the middle of the ridiculously awesome guitar solo. I turn back to Paiger, who's standing now, watching me with either sympathy or pity or both. Whatever it is humanizes her in a way I've never seen. I actually feel sorry for her. She's had to live with a secret too, an equally deceptive one, and if anyone can understand that, it's me.
“Lying just erodes the soul, doesn't it Paiger?”
She laughs. “Yeah, it does Jim. It really does.”
I grab my smokes off the table and light one. “You wanna tell Kara the truth for me? I'll give you ten thousand dollars.”
“No, I think you should do the honors. You're the boyfriend.”
“Not for long.”
“At least you got to be with her for a little while.”
“Yeah, well that's not nearly enough.” I suck in the smoke, offer her a drag. She accepts. “Once you get a taste of true love, being threatened with its loss can drive you to the brink of madness, madness and beyond. That seems to be where I am, so I guess you could call me crazy.”
She drags, passes, stays silent. I finish the cigarette and something inside me snaps and I rush toward her, fully intending to wrap my hands around her throat and throttle, but they land on both sides of her head and I wind up kissing her instead. She kisses back with full force and our vodka soaked nicotine laced tongues go at it, wrestling for dominance, two tongues that have been forced to lie so much it's a wonder they still work at all, and they commiserate and take comfort in knowing another tongue has gone through fellow hardships. Swirl around, you bastards, for it's the first and last time you'll ever meet. Savor every single second.
They do.
As I lift Paiger off the ground she wraps her legs around me, kisses my neck, and holds on tight as I whisk us off to the bedroom. We ravage each other something fierce, no lovey dovey shit, just two animal bodies writhing and relieving the stress and anxiety that comes with having a terribly tainted conscience. No words are spoken, just grunts and groans and moans, and as I feel her climax around me, she looks deep into my far gone eyes.
It's then I see them again.
Kara's eyes.
Kara's eyes in Paiger.
I fuck like a madman.