“Fuck you, Celia,” Betz says, stepping aside as several members of the Wild Hair come in.
They all look me up and down as they pick up boxes. I try not to be shy. One of them might be the one I choose.
Hoss shows off by picking up three boxes, barely able to see over the top.
“Careful,” I tell him. “The bottom one’s fragile.”
Betz rolls her eyes. “Fragile shit doesn’t last with the Wild Hair.”
I think she’s talking about me.
Too Fast Freddy comes in, making a point to squeeze Celia’s ass, in case she’s mad like Betz. “You wanna break in the cherry’s bathroom?”
Celia giggles. “You bet I do.”
I open my mouth to protest since I’ve already cleaned the place for the new girl, but Betz sees me. “I wouldn’t,” she says. “Don’t get in the way of a Wild Hair getting his dick wet.”
The pair scurries toward the bathroom.
Great. Okay.
Low Joe enters and takes a box, not making eye contact and hurrying back out.
“I’ll help,” I say, heading for a box of bedding.
Betz takes my arm. “Let the men do it. We have our roles, and we don’t do their shit. We have enough of ours.”
Okay. I stand and watch as the men come in and out, taking my suitcases and plastic bins and boxes. It doesn’t take fifteen minutes to be done, but by then, Celia and Freddy have emerged from the bathroom.
“Such pretty stuff,” Celia says, holding one of the seashell soaps from a dish in the bathroom. “I took this.”
“Sure,” I say. “I’m going to pee real quick before we go.”
I dash to the bathroom and close the door. A swift glance around proves that nothing is out of place. The room is mostly empty, but I left the shower curtain, the rug, and the little dish of soaps behind, just to make things homey for the next girl.
I flush the toilet to cover that I’m checking things out and run the water for a second. My face is flushed.
“This isn’t permanent,” I tell the mirror. I can always move in with Jenna or even sleep on the floor in Symphony’s room if I have to. I don’t have to stay at the clubhouse if it’s a nightmare.
When I emerge from the bathroom, the Wild Hair are already revving up their bikes. Betz is behind the wheel of the truck.
Celia waits by my TV, acting like she might take one of the romance novels I left on the shelves. “I like the guy on this cover,” she says, pointing at a shirtless man with the wind blowing his hair back.
“Take it. It’s a sexy one.”
She flips through the pages. “Really? There are dirty parts?”
“It’s super dirty.”
Celia tucks it under her arm. “I don’t do much reading, but I might take a look at this. You ready?”
I pick up my purse from the coffee table and look around. Everything is stark and bare, like a sample unit.
We head out, and I lock the door, tucking the key behind one of my empty flowerpots. I never was good at keeping the plants alive.
“You sure that’s safe?” Celia asks.
“The new girl is coming in a few hours,” I say. “It’ll be fine.”
