Page 80 of Man Flu

“You can’t what?”

“Her butt is glued shut,” Brielle says as she slaps her hand over her mouth. Why do people do that, like it’s involuntary? The human mind can control what is being said.

Logan laughs, and I know that is an involuntary reaction, but I think he’s only laughing because he thinks Brielle is joking.

“It’s not a joke,” I tell him. My face probably matches my whole nether region right now.

“How is that possible?” Logan’s disposition straightens out, accompanying a more serious tone.

“Wax. Our poor girl is like a human candle right now, and we don’t know how to fix the problem.”

Logan closes his eyes and presses his hand over his face. “Hold up, you had the inside of your ass waxed?”

“Yeah, Logan, it’s called a Hollywood glow, so obviously, many people do it,” Brielle says in my defense.

“Just because you hear Hollywood does something does not mean it’s common,” he corrects her. “And have you done this sort of thing before?”

“No!” I’m quick to blurt out. “Never. It was her idea.” I’m pointing to Brielle like I’m in fifth grade because it’s just the easiest way to handle the repercussions of my stupid decision, and she did insist on the Hollywood Glow.

Logan looks to be chewing on the inside of his cheek as I’ve seen him do a few times now while thinking intently about something. “Wax melts, so we have to reheat it somehow.”

“When did this become a ‘we’ thing?” I ask. No one is coming anywhere near my ass.

“Can you heat up your ass alone? I mean, all the power to you if you can, but I’m not sure I’d have the capability of doing such a thing.”

“Heat up my ass?”

“How else are you going to melt the wax?”

This is getting worse by the second. “I think I should just go back to the woman who did this.”

“Here, I’ll take you,” Logan says.

“I’m not prepared for the event tomorrow, not at all. I still have hours’ worth of work to do.”

“I have it all under control,” he says.

“How? I didn’t go over everything with you.”

“What else was left?” he asks.

“I don’t even know right now. I can’t even think straight with the pain I have down there. And I have to figure out how to get this fixed before Cora’s school calls with an early snow dismissal or something inside of me tears.”

“Can you do whatever is left from home?” Logan asks. He’s beginning to look more concerned than I feel, which is making me a whole lot more nervous.

“Yeah, I suppose I can.”

“Give me two minutes,” Logan says.

He walks off toward the offices, and he’s on a mission I’m not sure I want to know about. “What the hell, Bri?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It slipped. I didn’t mean to say it, but it just blah— It blurted out of me, and I couldn’t stop it.”

“Thanks, Brielle. Let it be known, I have all intentions of storming out of your cube because I’m pissed, but I’m not sure I can move.”

I reach into my back pocket for my phone and realize I don’t have it on me. I went to the bathroom in such a panic, I left it on my desk. I’ve been worried about school getting canceled, and I have no clue if they tried to call or email. Shit.

“Help me up,” I tell Brielle, reaching my arm out to her. I’m in an odd squatting position against the wall, and the thought of moving seems like the worst idea ever. “Actually, don’t help me up. Could you go get my phone off my desk? I’m worried the school tried to call.”