Page 95 of Merry Christmas, You Filthy Animal
I pull my phone out, and there’s a text from Storee.
It’s two emojis.
Two?
A tooth.
And a gold medal.
Why did she send two?
Two is not what we agreed on.
And why a tooth and a gold medal?
Jesus fuck.
I take the gum out of my mouth, place it on the bottom of the neck of the mannequin, then slam the head onto the body, run to the door, slam it shut from where Ansel left it open, grab my brother by the sweater, and bring him over to the stairs.
“Hey, watch it. What are you doing? You’re going to stretch my sweater.”
I get right in his face and say, “You’re going to sit the fuck down, shut the fuck up, and not mutter one goddamn word, or else I’m telling Felix that you’re the reason Jim dumped him. Got it?”
That clams Ansel up real quick as he sits down and remains silent.
I have about two seconds before I see lights come down the driveway.
This won’t work.
This is so stupid.
Why did I agree to do this?
When I hear a door shut, I turn to Ansel and point my finger at him, and he zips his mouth shut.
When there’s a knock at the door, my body feels like it’s broken out in hives. I count to five and then walk over to the door and twist it open.
Betty is standing on the other side, worrying her lip and looking adorable in a pair of black skinny jeans, snow boots, and a puffy jacket.
“Oh, hey,” I say, my hand propped up on the door, already starting to sweat. “Sorry about the noise. Uh, good to see you. I like your, uh, I like your jacket.”
She glances down at it and then back up at me. “It’s the same one I wore yesterday.”
“Really? Ah, must be different in the light. So what’s going on?”
She glances past my shoulder. “Um, well... I didn’t mean to bother you and your, uh, your party.”
“Not bothering at all,” I say as my mind goes back to the script that Storee provided me. “Just a little fundraiser I do for families who need funds during Christmastime.”
Okay, that’s not a lie. I do donate money to families who need a little supplementation, but it’s money of my own, and my parents match it.
“That’s... wow, that’s really sweet.” She glances down at her hands, where she’s holding our ornaments. “I feel kind of silly coming over here, interrupting you.”
“You’re fine. It’s good to see you.”
“Yeah?” she asks as her eyes meet mine again, but this time, they stay on me longer, allowing me to read her. And in a snapshot of a second, I see everything that I need to see.
The uneasiness.
