“Does this mean I pass?” He yelled over the music.
I didn’t stop singing to answer. Instead, I flipped the switch to release the sun roof window, pulled myself up through the opening, and threw my hands into the air while belting out a classic.
I thought that the responsible part of Joe would pull me back down. Maybe even close the sunroof and scold me. He surprised me, though.
“Ohhhhhh!” He sang loud enough to reach my ears. “We’re halfway there!”
“Whoa!” I shouted toward the sky. “Living’on a prayer!”
The laughter rolling in my belly was a magnificent feeling, only bested by the magnanimous joy I felt in this exact moment with Joe. Suddenly, that white picket life didn’t seem so unattainable.
***
Joe parked in the attached two car garage of his home and cut the engine. We’d left the multi-story apartment district behind, the buildings shrinking with every mile traveled. Single family homes, all with similar colors and builds, were tucked side-by-side in a vast neighborhood. I wasn’t surprised when Joe had turned onto one of the many cul-de-sacs.
Of course he lived here.
“It’s not the Wayne family home, but I think you’ll find it a lot more cozy than my parentless mansion.”
“I thought the family home was like a third date thing,” I answered.
Fuck. Maybe I couldn’t do this. I was soaking wet in ripped up clothes, freshly fucked like an animal, and a murdering mistress of Satan. My chest tightened, the shallow breaths causing sweat to slick my spine and dampen my palms. I didn’t belong here–
Joe broke through the turmoil whirling in my mind. “It’s not too late to turn around.”
I could feel his eyes on me. Trapped. I was trapped, searching for a plan and needed to get out of the car. Maybe I could get some dry clothes and call an Uber?
Yeah, that sounded like the beginnings of a plan at the very least.
Rather than reassure him with a look, I opened the car door and said, “Are you kidding me? You have privileged white man booze in there.” I tried to shut the door softly to avoid the sound of a slam. Maybe if the sound didn’t ring out into the abyss, no one in the neighborhood would know I was among them.
Did it work? Fuck no.
Joe chuckled and said, “I did just go to Costco and re-stock.”
“Jezebel and Jesus, you are privileged.”
I followed him through the door, trying not to drown in the inadequacy Ifelt at first glance followed by wondering if the floor would rot under my dirty feet. No lights were on, yet its glossy sheen was awe-inspiring.
“Is your floor made of fucking diamonds? What is this stuff?”
“Ha! No. It’s resin flooring. If you couldn’t tell,” Joe gestured around after setting his keys and wallet on the kitchen island. “I’m a stickler for hygiene and order.”
“Yeeeeeah. I’m so shocked.”
Joe flipped on light switches and I had a hard time stepping out of the shadowy entry way. The garage door we’d entered through was tucked away in a short hallway at the back of the house. Though I hadn’t gotten an official tour yet, it seemed like the rest of the house was forward. Unless I escaped back out into the garage, there was no avoiding what came next.
I took a deep breath, donning my favorite ‘fuck it’ attitude, and walked into the kitchen.
Joe was preoccupied with gathering booze and, hopefully, late night snacks. Or at least, so I’d thought until I heard him on the phone.
“Hi, yes, I’d like to place an order for delivery please.”
“Even better,” I murmured.
While Joe ordered every type of ramen under Lucifer’s burning sun, I explored.
Perfectly hung frames of beach scenes lined the modern gray walls. After a paranoid glance over my shoulder, I ran my finger along the top of a frame to see if there was any dust.
