Quincey: I plan to eat all the free food and drink all the cheap booze
Ezzy: Quincey’s going to fuck a frat boy. Quincey’s going to fuck a frat boy.
Ezzy: As your self-appointed mother and father, Isaac and I strongly approve.
Ezzy: Of you. Getting laid.
Quincey: You know what? *Cough* *Cough*
Quincey: Shit. Seems like I am coming down with something and will no longer be in attendance.
Ezzy: I promise, some of them are so hot.
Quincey: Doubt I’ll notice behind my mountain of finger food
Ezzy: That wasn’t a nooooo
God, she was the worst.The best. But also the fuckingworst.I could hear it. I could hear her voice doing that high-pitched, lilting thing when she wanted to stir up trouble. I could hear the way her inner voice would have crescendoed as a smile tore across her face.
Esme and Maura were the worst. They both loved to remind me that I was in my ‘sexual prime’,whatever the fuck that meant, and that I should be going out and getting on top of or below any and everything that moved. And this was exactly what I meant when I said they were always getting involved in my love life. I knew I didn’t go on dates often. I didn’t have to think very hard about that one. I liked having sex.Lovedhaving sex. But the people in this town?
No fucking thank you.
For all that Darling was: quiet, charming when it wanted tobe, beautiful in the autumn. The dating pool in Darling was small and incestuous, and everyone in this town talked way too fucking much. Any recent date-scapades I’d been on were more to appease the people around me rather than out of any actual personal interest.
My interest in dating had fizzled out pretty quickly after a string of painful occurrences that left me feeling more than a little dejected at the whole ‘love’thing. A few months ago, going against all my better judgement, I allowed a man studying finance to take me out for a few drinks. (I know, I only have myself to blame). I’d actually mentally prepared and everything, I’d practiced my smile in the mirror, one that you saw when they televised the Oscars and stuck a camera in the loser’s face, because I’d expected around two hours of obnoxious comments and the occasional comment about the stock market thrown in.
I’d even practiced my sweetest, sugariest ‘Why can’t they just print more money?’for when I’d had enough and just wanted to piss him off. What I hadn’t expected, however, was the additional girl in attendance. Whilst I had the utmost respect for other people’s sexual preferences, I did not enjoy them being sprung on me out of the blue. She had simply shrugged it off and offered a friendly ‘I’m up for it if you are?’.But I’d barely heard any more of what they’d had to say over my own disbelief and the scraping of my chair against the floor as I’d scrambled for the exit.
Dating for me was already complicated enough without adding an additional person to the mix. Whilst there was probably very little you could do to prepare for your first threesome or ethically non-monogamous experience, I knew that my suitcase full of insecurities and a head rattling round with intrusive thoughts probably wasn’t likely to improve the situation.
Stepping out of the changing room, I checked in the mirror to ensure I still looked semi-presentable after the fiasco offinding an outfit for that evening. I’d changed back into an outfit I could only describe as quintessentially me. I had on a pair of brownBlundstone’s,my most prized possessions that I’d paired with light wash mom jeans that hugged me at the waist and did wonders for making my ass look bigger than it was.
I wanted people to question how much I could squat as I walked past.The answer was probably nothing,but they didn’t need to know that.
On my top half, I was wearing a tight white turtleneck with thick black stripes under what could only be described as a mechanics shirt. If I was going to moonlight as anyone. It would always beArnold. I wasn’t sure who he was or what had become of him, but I was taking mighty good care of his shirt. His andKevin’s, Clint’s, Harold’s, andJoe’s.
I wore a silver ring on each of my fingers. They were all vintage and all stunning. And collectively cost less than a cup of coffee, which only made me love them more. It had gotten to the point where I simply could not go out without them, even when I felt overstimulated and they did nothing but annoy me further. I just felt completely naked when I wasn’t wearing them.
I trudged upstairs, the wooden floorboards that led back to the main area of theOddity Vaultgroaning beneath my feet. The wood was old and worn, and the hallway leading toward the top of the stairs was covered in a deep green wallpaper that peeled away slightly at the edges. I reckon this place would be a lot more popular if Hugh just went over it with a lick of paint. But that was why I loved this place and why I loved Hugh. Because he would never change it, he would never let this little sliver of nostalgia amongst a town that was becoming increasingly more gentrified die out.
I noticed the door to the storeroom was open when I reached the top of the stairs. Hugh, in his music-filled haze, probably hadn’t realised he’d left it open, so Iwalked over to close it. And almost immediately, I felt lightheaded.Stop fucking skipping breakfast,I admonished myself as I approached the door again, my head feeling like the static you’d see on an old box television.
The storeroom was usually filled with the latest donations that Hugh hadn’t had a chance to sort through yet. That, and things that never sold were left forgotten on these shelves. I was about to turn away when I noticed a dusty book on the far shelf. It was set askew and by itself. I wasn’t sure what that said about it, to be a pariah amongst the already fucking weird. Not being able to stop myself, I ambled over and picked it up.
Slightly larger than a hardback book and a lot heavier. It was bursting with loose pages, and the cover was worn and faded. But other than that, it was beautiful. It was leather-bound and a deep, teal colour. As I turned it over in my hands, I felt my fingers dip at the front, slipping into the embossed lettering of the cover.
The Malediction Codex
For Everyday Curses and Hexes
Use at your own risk.
Okay,book,you’ve got my attention. I looked between the dress and the book, trying to weigh up which would be a better purchase. On the one hand, I’d promised to attend my best friend’s sorority party and I knew she would be disappointed if I didn’t go. On the other hand, something deep within me lurched the moment I picked up this book. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it was calling out to me, because that would be fucking ridiculous, but something,something,about the book caught my attention.
Maybe Hugh would bestow me with a discount for being his most loyal non-customer, given that I’d never bought anything before. I turned on my heels and closed the storeroom doorbehind me, creepy book and dress in tow, before stalking up to the counter where Hugh was playing with an old watch.
“I’ve either fallen asleep again or died,” Hugh said, pinching himself as I put the two items down on the counter. “Is this really happening?”
