“I know how to count the cards myself, Jackass.”
“Three, four!”
In the end, it got really close, but I was the winner by a narrow margin of forty-three points.
Of course, I had to gloat and decided to play (and perform) Method Man’s Bring The Pain on my portable bluetooth speaker.
“Are you finished?” Knox quips after I perform the last bar of the rap classic.
“I am.”
I give him a deep bow from the waist and almost accidentally hit my head on the table.
“What is your wish, MC sore winner?”
He pulls out his plastic red case and half of a joint. He tilts his head and squints his eye closed as he lights it and takes the first puff.
“You need to smoke so you can think about how I just whooped that ass!” I jest with him.
“Something like that,” he says, giving me a look as if I’m an oddity.
“Okay, you promised I could ask for anything.”
“I did.”
“I want to go to work tomorrow and I want to go by myself. I called Janet, and she said she will put me on the schedule even though I called out the other day.”
I watch as Knox’s mood descends from entertained to displeasure. He didn’t expect me to ask for this. He thought I’d obediently wait on my father’s directive, but if I don’t get out of this house, I’m going to explode. And if I have to choose between shooting the shit with friends or working — it will always be work.
Working with the med students is not exactly the type of acting that I wish I was doing, but at least it’s something. For a few days a week, I get to pretend to be another person with a totally different backstory, and now I see just how much I depend upon that creative release for my mental health.
So that’s my wish.
He takes another long pull off his joint and then wets his thumb and forefinger, pressing them together to extinguish the fire.
“Okay.”
I hate to break the peace we've had between us for most of the day and I know he’s pissed, but this whole idea of playing for something was his. He promised no push back on my wish, but I guess he didn’t promise that he was going to like it either. Oddly enough, I wish he didn’t mind it so much.
“Okay?”
“Have a good day at work. I’ll see you when you get home.”
He stands and then does the oddest thing that leaves my head spinning.
He bends over and gently kisses me on the forehead.
“Good night, Queenie.”
Fourteen
Gigi
* * *
Tears are streaming down my face as I mindlessly press the buttons of the entry code to the front door of my apartment building. I catch a glimpse of myself in the small mirror located in the foyer and realize that I look very much like a feral raccoon. My mascara is smeared and strands of hair have freed themselves from my once smooth ponytail to frame my face in a halo of fuzzy curls.
I try smoothing them down with my fingers to no avail. I look like a total wreck and there’s no hiding it. I’m going to have to come up with a lie to tell Knox so that he doesn’t flip out on me. The last thing I need to hear is an I told you so. I’m an actress, dammit, and if I can’t sell a story when I get upstairs then I’m pursuing the wrong profession.
