Jolie stepped farther into the courtyard with a huge loopy grin on her face and black satin pajamas on her body.
“Honestly?” she started and chuckled with a snort. “I’m really high. Took a weed gummy like an hour ago.” Jolie giggled and clutched her stomach as she doubled over. “And I haven’t smoked a cigarette in ages.” Jolie waved the burning cigarette in the air as more cackling burst from her chest. “And, and”—she breathed deeply— “and I came out here with a pack I bought for the trip.” Breath. “Ahhh, andhe,” she said, now crying fromlaughter as she pointed to Mateo, “was sucking your face off and saying the dumbest shit. I couldn’t stop watching.”
Jolie was heaving and snorting and attempting to catch her breath as Ophelia and Mateo stared at her, completely dumbfounded.
“I swear to God I was going to go back in once I saw y’all, but then he was all like ‘I’m going to de-vouryou,’” she said mockingly.
“Jolie, for fuck’s sake, get back inside, you loon!”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’m just. Oh my God. So good. So glad I witnessed this. Seriously, y’all. Thank you.” Jolie bowed in thanks with her hands in prayer.
As Jolie left the courtyard, she slow-clapped Mateo for his performance, and Ophelia could hear her cackling as she climbed up the stairs.
After Jolie’s untimely interruption, Ophelia politely told Mateo it was best if he left.
Ophelia couldn't wrap her mind around her momentary freak-out with Mateo. Why did she desperately want him all over her one minute and then be repulsed the next minute? Her memory of her negative feelings towards him were hazy. They almost felt made up in a sense. So when Mateo continued to text her the next day, she responded. She couldn’t think of a reason not to.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Ophelia: So…Remember Bathroom Guy from Red Dress Run?
Jade with the good hair: The mystery man who unknowingly revealed Ben’s asshole-ness?
Ophelia: The one and only.
Ophelia: I ran into him this weekend, and um yeah…he’s still hot, and he’s a phenomenal kisser, and he has my number, and he hasn’t stopped texting me.
Jade with the good hair: WHAT!? BITCH! I’m going to need the full freaking story when I get back from NYC.
Ophelia: Ohhh yeah, I totally forgot about your work trip. Tell NYC I said hello! Have so much fun and get some good art. None of that white canvas bs.
Jade with the good hair: Never.
Jade with the good hair: But if anything good happens with Bathroom Guy (and by good I mean you fuck), you have to text me.
Ophelia: Promise!
The Monday after the bachelorette weekend, Ophelia settled in her studio and sipped from her iced coffee. She was determined to focus on something other than Mateo, who texted with a frequency unmatched by any man she’d ever known. His conversations with her, while amusing and insightful, were wholly consuming. But Mateo left that morning for a weeklong family visit to Mexico City, giving Ophelia breathing space to process.
The most pressing issue on her mind was the recent murder and the Cutthroat Killer, which was what the serial killer was now being called on the internet. So she spent two hours researching the victims before she pivoted to her Healing Artists work. At lunch, she walked over to Avery’s house. He wasn’t expecting her, but Prytania Botanica was closed on Mondays. She knew he’d be around, likely just waking up.
Ophelia knocked on his door. She could hear Bravo playing in the background. The TV clicked off, and feet shuffled towards the door. Avery’s giant frame filled the doorway, and he cocked his head to the side at the sight of her.
“I brought BLTs, chips, and homemade pickles for lunch,” said Ophelia with a smile.
“Well, hell. You’re an angel, you know that, huh?”
They decided to set up lunch outside on the front porch. After they finished their sandwiches, Avery turned to her. “All right. I can tell you have something to tell me. You normally don’t ambush me with food on my off days.”
Ophelia scoffed in mock offense. “I bring you food all the time!”
“When you have leftovers you know you won’t eat.” Avery shook his head. “I know you have something to tell me, so cough it up.”
“Fine. I don’t know exactly where to begin, but I guess I should start with the fact that my grandmother is a Traiteur, and I’m learning how to become one too. I’ll be able to fully treatnext weekend after we do the ‘Passing’ of the gift, whatever that means.”
Avery smiled and nodded. “Bitch, I knew you had magic.”
“What!” she exclaimed. “How?”
