Karina and the Total Dick Move
Eva Olivier
Eva Olivier
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“What are you stupid?”
Karina couldn’t believe Brie. After every-fucking-thing, her roommate was not only still with Elias, she wanted Karina to hang out at his house like nothing had happened. “Cam’s going,” was Brie’s only response. It was April and she was dolled up like a Times Square New Year’s — golden hair panached up in some stolen YouTube-DIY crown, fake lashes concealed by too much eye shadow, a shimmery dress whose sleeves barely hid the black fingermarks bruising her bicep. Karina should have expected this. She’d wanted to call the cops, but Brie refused, insisted the whole thing was an accident. Karina figured pressing charges would have useless anyhow. ‘Elias is such an upstanding young gentleman,’ the chauvinist administrators and judges would say, ‘what with his Senator father and his family that pays off large cash donations to our university.’ The little shit was free to do as he pleased, evidence marking Brie’s arm be damned. Over the past few days, Karina’s twisted mind stewed with nasty alternatives for revenge. One stood out from the rest. Her fingers itched with intent. Still, she couldn’t believe what Brie was asking her. |
"Portrait of a Woman" Egon Schiele, Color lithograph, 5 1/2 x 3 1/2 in., 1910. Open source from The Met.
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“Cam really agreed to this?”
“With enthusiasm.” Brie beamed a set of freshly bleached teethed. “I mean, it’s not like you had plans, right?”
Karina did have plans. They weren’t the going out and getting-a-fuck kind, but rather the drink-some-wine-and-study-my-lines variety, which suited her way more fine than spending an evening fending off the advances of Elias’ juvenile roommates. No thanks, bruh. She had real things to do. She earned the lead in this fucking play, and, farce or not, she was going to kill it—show everyone why she’d earned that full scholarship. Brie, BU’s basic-bitch rich-girl, paid the $60-k yearly toll in full and had one line. Five words. Three scenes. Karina, daughter of a Queens’ cop was the last Queen of Fucking Egypt.
As Karina walked to Cam’s room, the tingling in her hands prickled through the rest of her body. It wasn’t just the nicotine withdrawal kicking in, the after effects of making that stupid promise to Cam that she’d quit while they played Queen and consort. It was the other, unspoken vice. It’d been weeks since her little excursion with the boots. When she noticed them tucked away in her bag she told herself she was simply keeping pace with the trust fund babies. And the boots were devastatingly awesome—black, chunky-chic, ass-kickers with a three-inch heel that let her tower above everyone else.
But the itch — it came on full force now that she had an opportunity for retribution: Elias’ heirloom ring. Brie said it meant a lot to him, a gift from the dickwad’s mother, passed down for generations, etcetera, etcetera, a jewel-flecked golden circlet band—an accessory for a Pharaoh, perhaps. And Jupiter knew Elias’ family was loaded enough to be royalty. He never wore the ring—probably too big for his tiny fingers. Left it lying around on his bureau, Brie said. Which meant it was primed for Karina to easily pop in and get some measure of revenge.
Cam stood in front of her mirror, futzing with how off-the-rack-janky her three hundred dollar Givenchy top should hang. Karina loved Cam. She was a wonderful scene partner and more than willing to share her expensive clothes and makeup. But her ridiculous displays of wealth sometimes made Karina want to vomit.
Cam caught Karina’s sour look. “Ooooohlala. What a sexy bitch.”
“You know you want me, Antonia.” Karina glanced at her own reflection. Her lips puckered tight like she was sucking a cigarette, a look that might’ve been erotic if she wasn’t so worked up. She eased into an effortless smile that masked the giddy fury bubbling inside her.
“How can I resist you, my desert jewel?” Cam recited. “There’s not a minute of our lives that should stretch without some pleasure now.”
She held Karina about the waist and Karina coiled her hands around the nape of Cam’s neck. They fell into their routine, twirling and spinning until they stood face-to-face, building up to a kiss that would never come.
“What sport tonight?” Cam continued.
Shakespeare’s words and Karina’s own intentions battled for position on the tip of her tongue. Her expression fell back into the accustomed sourball purse. Fuck it.
“I can’t believe you agreed to this,” Karina said.
“What do you mean, I agreed?” Cam’s geniality swung indignant. “Brie said you wanted to go.”
Oh, fuck that manipulative bitch. Cam shook her head and Karina sensed her other half was thinking the same thing: Brie knew that they’d never let her go back to Elias’ alone.
“Fake drunk?” Karina asked.
“Fake drunk,” Cam agreed. “Back by midnight.”
“Or we’ll turn all those pricks into pumpkins.”
Karina passed Brie in the hallway.
“Aren’t you ready yet?” Brie downed a glass of wine, obviously psyching herself up for something she wasn’t ready to face. Karina thought of tying her roommate down and never letting her out of the apartment again.
Instead, Karina smiled and said, “Brie, I love you and I’ll follow you to the near ends of the earth. I just want to reiterate that if I had the chance, I’d floor your boyfriend’s Maserati right up his dick-hole.”
* * *
The Brighton Victorian was a frat house in all but official campus designation, the reek of stale beer and shit weed soaked into its ancient floorboards. Only three of Elias’ umpteen roommates were home, annoying fucks named Marco, Jin and Trent who buzzed around Karina and Cam with misplaced hopes of getting laid.
Karina perched on the edge of a stained couch and pretended to sip her beer. Across the dimly lit room, a half-wasted Brie snuggled up with Elias. Karina had to admit he was pretty gorgeous, but a prick was still a prick — no matter how good it looked, it’d still blast you in the eye when you least expected it. Karina forced herself not to scowl as Elias wrapped an arm around Brie and boasted about his family’s beach house on the Outer Banks.
“It’s pretty chill,” Elias fingered a gold chain around his neck. “We’d have these huge barbeques, then we’d build a fire and everyone’d lay out on the beach. My mom loved watching the sun rise out over the ocean.”
He paused for a moment, and Karina figured he was waiting for some comment about how awesome everything sounded and sweet-ass it would be to visit. But no one replied and the mood sombered and Karina thought Elias’ roommates must be bored of his shtick too.
Marco perked up a moment later. “Dude, I can’t wait. This summer’s gonna own. I’ll show you all what real wave-tossing is.”
“No way, bro,” Jin said.
Marco hopped off the couch and mimed what Karina supposed was surfing. “You don’t even know. Me and Elias are gonna Tear. It. Up. N.C. and Cali together at last.”
“Yeah, man.” Elias bumped fists with Marco and spread his too-perfect surfer smile across the room. “You ladies are welcome to join us. There’s more than enough room. Plus my dad’s way too busy this summer to come down.”
“Oh yeah, no adults!” Marco practically woo’d right there.
Karina stifled a laugh. It was too much: the idiots egging each other on while alpha-dog Elias lapped up the attention. She couldn’t comprehend what Brie saw in such a shit-spewing asshole.
“Fuck yeah.” Brie launched her fist out for a bump, missed Elias’ knuckle and nearly knocked him in the eye. Cam laughed and this time Karina couldn’t help but do the same.
“You okay?” cried Brie. Karina immistakably heard a twinge of fear in her roommate’s voice. “I’m — I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry, babe.” Elias laughed like it was nothing. “You totally missed.”
He pulled at the gold chain around his neck and Karina figured he was fighting not to lose his cool. Elias’ wrapped his arm back around Brie and kissed her on the cheek. Within moments their tongues were snaking down each other’s throats.
That was Karina’s cue to rock. Her fingers stretched and flexed in anticipation. All she needed to do was fly upstairs, grab the ring, and float back down before anyone even remembered she’d left.
“Get a load of those lovebirds.” Marco slapped Karina on the knee. She tried to shift away, but his manspreading had already squeezed her against the arm of the couch. She crossed her legs to clear some space and her boot whacked her beer to the floor.
“Shit,” Karina stood up.
“I’ll get a towel,” Marco nearly pushed her over as he ran into the kitchen.
“Jesus, K,” Brie frowned.
“Chill. It’s not like she did it on purpose.” Elias smiled like it was no big thing, but his eyes held a malevolence that stung Karina like fast-acting poison. He fidgeted with the gold chain again and murmured something into Brie’s ear. She laughed and grinned like Medea before the woman finally came to her senses and discovered Jason was an über asshole.
Marco returned with paper towels and a six-pack. He cracked a can open and handed it to Karina. She almost downed it before realizing what she was doing. She sat back down and her impatient fingers crumpled the sides of the can.
“Cam?” Marco cracked another beer and handed it across the table. Cam took a long sip and flashed Karina a conspiratorial smile. The bleary, unfocused look in Cam’s eyes made Karina wonder if her partner had forgotten they were only playing drunk.
“We shouldn’t,” Brie giggled.
Elias was all up on her. His forehead glistened with sweat. Urgent fingers unbuttoned the top of his shirt as he kissed Brie’s neck. Karina thought she heard the words “my room” and knew she saw Brie tense as Elias’ hands roamed over her roommate’s bruised arm.
Brie’s eyes latched onto Karina’s, and for an instant Karina thought she was about to witness a reenactment of what happened last weekend. Then Brie laughed and brought her fingers to her lips and mimed smoking. Karina nodded. Karina wasn’t sure exactly what was going on, but she’d be a good roommate. She’d hang out with Brie. She wouldn’t resist.
“No, no, no.” Cam jumped up, fingers pointing every-which-way at Karina. “You quit. You swore you quit.”
“Whatever.” Karina wanted to throw Cam’s own false promises right back at her but Karina held her tongue.
Brie shrugged and Elias led her out of the room. They paused at the stairs for a long second before finally heading toward the back of the house.
Karina’s twitchy fingers dug into her palms. She’d give it two more minutes, that’s it.
“Is it true?” Marco asked her. His knee rubbed up against Karina’s once again.
“Lots of things are true.” Karina edged away from him. “But whatever you’re thinking of — probably not.”
“Cam says you guys are doing an all-female version of some play.”
“Antonia and Cleopatra,” Cam laughed.
“You mean Antony and Cleopatra,” corrected Jin.
“Not anymore,” Karina smiled. “No dicks allowed.”
“Isn’t that a romance?” Jin asked.
A devious smile passed between the three boys.
“It’s a tragedy,” Karina said.
“And a history,” echoed Cam.
“But there’s kissing, right?” asked Jin.
Cam shrugged like she wasn’t sure, but her alcohol-stymied smile gave away the answer. The boys giggled like ten year olds seeing their first pair of boobs.
“I think they want us to practice.” Cam laughed.
Karina burned like hot oil. How had Cam gotten this fucking wasted? No way Karina could leave her here alone with these horn toads. At least not all mushy eyed and feeling fine.
“So, you guys are all still accounting majors, huh?” Karina took a fake sip of her full beer. “How’s that boring you?”
“We’ll be rolling in the dough by the time we graduate,” Trent replied.
“More useful than being a drama major,” Jin said.
And like that it was on. Cam stood up and defended her career in a half-drunk monologue that Edward Albee couldn’t have written better. She wouldn’t let Jin or Trent get a word in edgewise and when she finally did stop for a breath she said, “Right, K?”
“Without a doubt,” Karina smiled. “I’ll be right back. Too much beer.”
“I’ll show you were the bathroom is,” Marco stood up with her.
“I know where it is. I’ve been here before.” Karina brushed him away and drunk-waltzed toward the stairs. Cam continued on with her boner-draining rant and Karina took some solace in the fact that at least one of her roommates would be safe.
* * *
Karina’s boots clonked up the steps. She had been right: they were devastating, devastatingly loud. She wrenched them off as she thudded onto the second floor landing. The bathroom and its urine splashed toilet seat lingered on her right; Elias’s sealed bedroom waited to the left.
She had a clear runway. All she needed to do was take five steps and open the door.
Brie’s laugh sounded from somewhere below. It surprised Karina that they were already back inside. She should see what Brie was up to, in case something malevolent was going on. Karina: just a caring friend popping in at the right time, capturing a Janus-faced shithead about to rough up her roommate. Karina: heroine, champion, and taker-down of rich fuckwads. A great triumph. It might be better than smokes. It may even be more satisfying than the ring.
But her impatient fingers had already clasped the door handle. The knob refused to turn, locked by a cheap single tumbler she could probably kick in if she still had her boots on. She removed a felt pouch from the inside of her purse, unfurled it and decided upon two of the finer metal spindles. With practiced dexterity, Karina inserted the picks into the keyhole and popped the door open.
She flipped on the room’s overhead light and left the door ajar, as if she just so happened to drunkenly stumble in. A wood-framed mirror was adorned with photos of Elias and an older woman. Presumably this was the much-vaunted mother who had bequeathed her ungrateful son the heirloom ring, the lustrous band that was supposed to be discarded on the bureau but was currently nowhere to be seen. Karina dropped her shoes to the floor and dug through Elias’ man-clutter, awful-smelling colognes and face creams, tangles of ear bud wires, a cracked water pipe. She considered that Brie had pulled a fast one, made the whole momma’s-boy thing up in some feeble attempt to put a glittery shine on her gremlin boyfriend. Karina rummaged through the wool socks and silk briefs that filled the bureau’s top drawer, tossing aside condoms and bags of weed and a box of stale cigarettes without catching a glimmer of the ring.
Footsteps pounded up the stairs. Karina’s fingers cast about for something to latch onto, found the box of cigs, threw one in her mouth, savored the dried nicotine, and fought the urge to light it. She snatched the weed for later and slammed the top drawer shut just as Elias walked in.
“What are you doing?” His forehead creased down the middle like a baboon’s ass.
Karina coquetted her lips into a smile and tossed the cigarette carton on the dresser. “I needed a smoke. You guys were—“ She noticed Elias’ shirt was clumsily buttoned and recalled Brie’s echoing laughter. “Doing something in the kitchen. Marco said you had some spares lying around.”
“Marco’s got a big mouth.” Elias frowned. “I thought you quit?”
“Only temporarily.” Karina held her practiced simper and bumble-strutted toward the door, trying to edge past Elias. His arms extended across the frame and cut her off, his muscled chest thrust out as if he were merely stretching. The top buttons on his shirt tumbled loose and his gold chain fell forward. The ring swung from the chain like a rusted pendant.
Karina almost blanched in disappointment. No wonder Elias didn’t wear it. Heirloom or not, it was a piece of shit. Not one fucking ounce of shining gold or precious stone adorned the tarnished band that dangled from Elias’ sinewy torso.
“How’d you get in?” Nasty accusation filled his voice. Karina tried to ignore it.
“What d’you mean how’d I get in?” She made sure to slur her words as she plucked her boots up off the floor. “I thought these’d be super comfortable, like what I paid for them. But they’re pretty awful.”
“I keep my room locked.”
“Huh. The door was wide open.” Karina pretended to struggle as she put her boots back on. Except…..She actually couldn’t slip them on. Teetering on one leg, she grabbed the bureau and jammed her right foot inside the narrow shoe only for her heel to get stuck halfway. It was like her feet had gotten bigger or the leather had shrunk or — fuck these stupid shoes.
“I know you don’t like me.” He stepped toward her.
“Buullllll-shit.” Karina fumbled the right boot on but failed to slip into the left. “Why’d — Why would I be here if I didn’t like you guys.”
“You think you’re queen bitch, don’t you?”
A smoldering rage lusted in his eyes and the smile shrank from Karina’s face. She was taller than him. She might be able to overpower him. Maybe. He pressed closer, forcing her to backup against the bureau. Her foot finally worked its way into her left shoe. She was suited up. She could take him. She readied herself.
His face was inches from hers.
“Dude, what the fuck?” Her voice cracked and the cigarette fell from her lips. “Come on, man, you made me drop it.”
“What were you doing in here?” He tightened his fist.
“I told you…I was…” She reached back blindly, feeling for the carton of cigs. Her fingers coiled around the water pipe. “Hey, you got any weed?”
“Fuck you. Get the fuck out of my house.”
Karina shattered the water pipe against Elias’ face before he could even think about touching her. She was a hair’s breadth from the doorway when he tackled her, one hand seizing her breast. He wrenched her torso as she clawed at his face and chest, ultimately smashing her knee into his tiny balls. He crumpled over and Karina stood up, ring in hand. She planted her feet and kicked forward, her awesome boots devastating his face, blasting him back into the bureau and crashing his manscaping shit to the floor. Blood gushed from Elias’ nose and he cried out, threatening to kill her, screaming for someone to call the cops. Karina flew out of the room, railroaded past Elias’ idiot roommates, yanked a tipsy Cam and manic Brie down the stairs, and escaped into the cool spring night.
* * *
The cab dropped them back at the apartment well before the stroke of twelve.
Brie, drunker than an amateur on New Year's, curled up on her bed and sobbed into a pillow. Karina dropped the ring next to her.
“Where’d you get that?” Brie sniffled.
“Where do you think?” Karina could still feel the creep’s hand assaulting her breast. She hoped he’d left fingermarks, evidence to match up against the bruises on Brie’s arm. Karina thought of showing her roommate the truth about her wonderful boy-toy right then and there, but instead Brie said:
“I didn’t know he was such an asshole. What happened?”
“I was grabbing some cigs.” Karina shrugged. “It’s been a crazy week. Don’t tell Cam.”
“Tell Cam what?” Cam, still drunk, propped herself against the doorframe.
“That I was jonesing,” Karina said.
“You shit.” Cam frowned. “You selfish whore. Goodnight Brie.”
Cam stumbled down the hall. Karina wasn’t sure if she was serious or not. No, of course she wasn’t. Cam loved her. Besides, Cam was the one that had sunk too far into the role and actually gotten drunk. If anyone should be mad, it should be her, Karina.
She let it slide. Everything would be fine in the morning.
She returned her attention to Brie.
“I was really there because I was looking for you. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Karina rubbed a comforting hand on Brie’s shoulder. Brie shrugged her off and sat up.
“I was in the kitchen. You could have found me easily.” Brie gasped up a lungful of snot and tears. When she spoke again, her voice held a shocking firmness only surpassed by the anger brewing in her mascara-streaked eyes. “You shouldn’t have taken it.”
“I grabbed it by accident when he was attacking me.”
“You should have just dropped it.”
“I was fighting for my life.” Karina couldn’t figure out what Brie’s fucking problem was. If Brie didn’t want the ring, Karina’d take it. She’d shine it up a little, pawn it for a few dollars, buy some cigs, and smoke them sooner rather than later, promises to Cam be fucked.
Her wayward fingers danced toward the ring and she had to sit on her hand to stop them.
Brie didn’t seem to notice. “It was a gift from his mother.”
“Yeah, I remember you saying that. I’m sure if you told his mom how her bunghole son was treating women --”
“She’s dead.”
Karina caught the implication like a dagger to the heart. She was a total shit for nicking the funereal gift of a boy’s dead — No. Fuck guilt. She was more than justified. If Elias blubbered about it or punched a hole in his wall and broke his fist, so be it. He was still a total cocknavel, dead mother or not.
Karina’s errant fingers snatched the ring and her heavy boots stomped toward the door. The cold metal felt soothing against her palm, worthless heirloom or not.
“Leave it.” Brie snapped.
Karina stopped. She didn’t want to, but her boots refused to carry her any further and she stood there, stupid. Her hand tightened around the ring.
“Leave it, Karina.” Brie’s tone softened. “Please. I won’t return it.”
But Karina knew she would. When Elias inevitably came calling, Brie would cave and they’d all end up back where they started. Her entire body tensed.
Fuck my life, Karina thought. She loosened her grip and let the ring clatter onto Brie’s makeup table.
“Thank you.” Brie turned her back to Karina and climbed under her comforter. “Turn off my light, will you?”
Karina lingered in the doorway, thinking over the order in her head, what it meant if she acquiesced, what it meant that fucking Brie of all people, a fucking servant with one line in the play, was giving her, fucking Cleopatra, orders. She didn’t deserve to be treated like this, especially by her fucking friends. Her booted foot thumped against the wooden floor.
Brie glared over her shoulder at Karina. Tears filled the blonde girl’s eyes. “And get rid of those hideous shoes; they’re too fucking loud.”
Karina wanted to smack Brie, tell her to go fuck herself. But it wasn’t worth it. Karina snapped the lights off as she exited the room. Everything will be fine again in the morning, she thought, her boots clonking down the hall in time with the echo of Brie’s sobs.
“With enthusiasm.” Brie beamed a set of freshly bleached teethed. “I mean, it’s not like you had plans, right?”
Karina did have plans. They weren’t the going out and getting-a-fuck kind, but rather the drink-some-wine-and-study-my-lines variety, which suited her way more fine than spending an evening fending off the advances of Elias’ juvenile roommates. No thanks, bruh. She had real things to do. She earned the lead in this fucking play, and, farce or not, she was going to kill it—show everyone why she’d earned that full scholarship. Brie, BU’s basic-bitch rich-girl, paid the $60-k yearly toll in full and had one line. Five words. Three scenes. Karina, daughter of a Queens’ cop was the last Queen of Fucking Egypt.
As Karina walked to Cam’s room, the tingling in her hands prickled through the rest of her body. It wasn’t just the nicotine withdrawal kicking in, the after effects of making that stupid promise to Cam that she’d quit while they played Queen and consort. It was the other, unspoken vice. It’d been weeks since her little excursion with the boots. When she noticed them tucked away in her bag she told herself she was simply keeping pace with the trust fund babies. And the boots were devastatingly awesome—black, chunky-chic, ass-kickers with a three-inch heel that let her tower above everyone else.
But the itch — it came on full force now that she had an opportunity for retribution: Elias’ heirloom ring. Brie said it meant a lot to him, a gift from the dickwad’s mother, passed down for generations, etcetera, etcetera, a jewel-flecked golden circlet band—an accessory for a Pharaoh, perhaps. And Jupiter knew Elias’ family was loaded enough to be royalty. He never wore the ring—probably too big for his tiny fingers. Left it lying around on his bureau, Brie said. Which meant it was primed for Karina to easily pop in and get some measure of revenge.
Cam stood in front of her mirror, futzing with how off-the-rack-janky her three hundred dollar Givenchy top should hang. Karina loved Cam. She was a wonderful scene partner and more than willing to share her expensive clothes and makeup. But her ridiculous displays of wealth sometimes made Karina want to vomit.
Cam caught Karina’s sour look. “Ooooohlala. What a sexy bitch.”
“You know you want me, Antonia.” Karina glanced at her own reflection. Her lips puckered tight like she was sucking a cigarette, a look that might’ve been erotic if she wasn’t so worked up. She eased into an effortless smile that masked the giddy fury bubbling inside her.
“How can I resist you, my desert jewel?” Cam recited. “There’s not a minute of our lives that should stretch without some pleasure now.”
She held Karina about the waist and Karina coiled her hands around the nape of Cam’s neck. They fell into their routine, twirling and spinning until they stood face-to-face, building up to a kiss that would never come.
“What sport tonight?” Cam continued.
Shakespeare’s words and Karina’s own intentions battled for position on the tip of her tongue. Her expression fell back into the accustomed sourball purse. Fuck it.
“I can’t believe you agreed to this,” Karina said.
“What do you mean, I agreed?” Cam’s geniality swung indignant. “Brie said you wanted to go.”
Oh, fuck that manipulative bitch. Cam shook her head and Karina sensed her other half was thinking the same thing: Brie knew that they’d never let her go back to Elias’ alone.
“Fake drunk?” Karina asked.
“Fake drunk,” Cam agreed. “Back by midnight.”
“Or we’ll turn all those pricks into pumpkins.”
Karina passed Brie in the hallway.
“Aren’t you ready yet?” Brie downed a glass of wine, obviously psyching herself up for something she wasn’t ready to face. Karina thought of tying her roommate down and never letting her out of the apartment again.
Instead, Karina smiled and said, “Brie, I love you and I’ll follow you to the near ends of the earth. I just want to reiterate that if I had the chance, I’d floor your boyfriend’s Maserati right up his dick-hole.”
* * *
The Brighton Victorian was a frat house in all but official campus designation, the reek of stale beer and shit weed soaked into its ancient floorboards. Only three of Elias’ umpteen roommates were home, annoying fucks named Marco, Jin and Trent who buzzed around Karina and Cam with misplaced hopes of getting laid.
Karina perched on the edge of a stained couch and pretended to sip her beer. Across the dimly lit room, a half-wasted Brie snuggled up with Elias. Karina had to admit he was pretty gorgeous, but a prick was still a prick — no matter how good it looked, it’d still blast you in the eye when you least expected it. Karina forced herself not to scowl as Elias wrapped an arm around Brie and boasted about his family’s beach house on the Outer Banks.
“It’s pretty chill,” Elias fingered a gold chain around his neck. “We’d have these huge barbeques, then we’d build a fire and everyone’d lay out on the beach. My mom loved watching the sun rise out over the ocean.”
He paused for a moment, and Karina figured he was waiting for some comment about how awesome everything sounded and sweet-ass it would be to visit. But no one replied and the mood sombered and Karina thought Elias’ roommates must be bored of his shtick too.
Marco perked up a moment later. “Dude, I can’t wait. This summer’s gonna own. I’ll show you all what real wave-tossing is.”
“No way, bro,” Jin said.
Marco hopped off the couch and mimed what Karina supposed was surfing. “You don’t even know. Me and Elias are gonna Tear. It. Up. N.C. and Cali together at last.”
“Yeah, man.” Elias bumped fists with Marco and spread his too-perfect surfer smile across the room. “You ladies are welcome to join us. There’s more than enough room. Plus my dad’s way too busy this summer to come down.”
“Oh yeah, no adults!” Marco practically woo’d right there.
Karina stifled a laugh. It was too much: the idiots egging each other on while alpha-dog Elias lapped up the attention. She couldn’t comprehend what Brie saw in such a shit-spewing asshole.
“Fuck yeah.” Brie launched her fist out for a bump, missed Elias’ knuckle and nearly knocked him in the eye. Cam laughed and this time Karina couldn’t help but do the same.
“You okay?” cried Brie. Karina immistakably heard a twinge of fear in her roommate’s voice. “I’m — I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry, babe.” Elias laughed like it was nothing. “You totally missed.”
He pulled at the gold chain around his neck and Karina figured he was fighting not to lose his cool. Elias’ wrapped his arm back around Brie and kissed her on the cheek. Within moments their tongues were snaking down each other’s throats.
That was Karina’s cue to rock. Her fingers stretched and flexed in anticipation. All she needed to do was fly upstairs, grab the ring, and float back down before anyone even remembered she’d left.
“Get a load of those lovebirds.” Marco slapped Karina on the knee. She tried to shift away, but his manspreading had already squeezed her against the arm of the couch. She crossed her legs to clear some space and her boot whacked her beer to the floor.
“Shit,” Karina stood up.
“I’ll get a towel,” Marco nearly pushed her over as he ran into the kitchen.
“Jesus, K,” Brie frowned.
“Chill. It’s not like she did it on purpose.” Elias smiled like it was no big thing, but his eyes held a malevolence that stung Karina like fast-acting poison. He fidgeted with the gold chain again and murmured something into Brie’s ear. She laughed and grinned like Medea before the woman finally came to her senses and discovered Jason was an über asshole.
Marco returned with paper towels and a six-pack. He cracked a can open and handed it to Karina. She almost downed it before realizing what she was doing. She sat back down and her impatient fingers crumpled the sides of the can.
“Cam?” Marco cracked another beer and handed it across the table. Cam took a long sip and flashed Karina a conspiratorial smile. The bleary, unfocused look in Cam’s eyes made Karina wonder if her partner had forgotten they were only playing drunk.
“We shouldn’t,” Brie giggled.
Elias was all up on her. His forehead glistened with sweat. Urgent fingers unbuttoned the top of his shirt as he kissed Brie’s neck. Karina thought she heard the words “my room” and knew she saw Brie tense as Elias’ hands roamed over her roommate’s bruised arm.
Brie’s eyes latched onto Karina’s, and for an instant Karina thought she was about to witness a reenactment of what happened last weekend. Then Brie laughed and brought her fingers to her lips and mimed smoking. Karina nodded. Karina wasn’t sure exactly what was going on, but she’d be a good roommate. She’d hang out with Brie. She wouldn’t resist.
“No, no, no.” Cam jumped up, fingers pointing every-which-way at Karina. “You quit. You swore you quit.”
“Whatever.” Karina wanted to throw Cam’s own false promises right back at her but Karina held her tongue.
Brie shrugged and Elias led her out of the room. They paused at the stairs for a long second before finally heading toward the back of the house.
Karina’s twitchy fingers dug into her palms. She’d give it two more minutes, that’s it.
“Is it true?” Marco asked her. His knee rubbed up against Karina’s once again.
“Lots of things are true.” Karina edged away from him. “But whatever you’re thinking of — probably not.”
“Cam says you guys are doing an all-female version of some play.”
“Antonia and Cleopatra,” Cam laughed.
“You mean Antony and Cleopatra,” corrected Jin.
“Not anymore,” Karina smiled. “No dicks allowed.”
“Isn’t that a romance?” Jin asked.
A devious smile passed between the three boys.
“It’s a tragedy,” Karina said.
“And a history,” echoed Cam.
“But there’s kissing, right?” asked Jin.
Cam shrugged like she wasn’t sure, but her alcohol-stymied smile gave away the answer. The boys giggled like ten year olds seeing their first pair of boobs.
“I think they want us to practice.” Cam laughed.
Karina burned like hot oil. How had Cam gotten this fucking wasted? No way Karina could leave her here alone with these horn toads. At least not all mushy eyed and feeling fine.
“So, you guys are all still accounting majors, huh?” Karina took a fake sip of her full beer. “How’s that boring you?”
“We’ll be rolling in the dough by the time we graduate,” Trent replied.
“More useful than being a drama major,” Jin said.
And like that it was on. Cam stood up and defended her career in a half-drunk monologue that Edward Albee couldn’t have written better. She wouldn’t let Jin or Trent get a word in edgewise and when she finally did stop for a breath she said, “Right, K?”
“Without a doubt,” Karina smiled. “I’ll be right back. Too much beer.”
“I’ll show you were the bathroom is,” Marco stood up with her.
“I know where it is. I’ve been here before.” Karina brushed him away and drunk-waltzed toward the stairs. Cam continued on with her boner-draining rant and Karina took some solace in the fact that at least one of her roommates would be safe.
* * *
Karina’s boots clonked up the steps. She had been right: they were devastating, devastatingly loud. She wrenched them off as she thudded onto the second floor landing. The bathroom and its urine splashed toilet seat lingered on her right; Elias’s sealed bedroom waited to the left.
She had a clear runway. All she needed to do was take five steps and open the door.
Brie’s laugh sounded from somewhere below. It surprised Karina that they were already back inside. She should see what Brie was up to, in case something malevolent was going on. Karina: just a caring friend popping in at the right time, capturing a Janus-faced shithead about to rough up her roommate. Karina: heroine, champion, and taker-down of rich fuckwads. A great triumph. It might be better than smokes. It may even be more satisfying than the ring.
But her impatient fingers had already clasped the door handle. The knob refused to turn, locked by a cheap single tumbler she could probably kick in if she still had her boots on. She removed a felt pouch from the inside of her purse, unfurled it and decided upon two of the finer metal spindles. With practiced dexterity, Karina inserted the picks into the keyhole and popped the door open.
She flipped on the room’s overhead light and left the door ajar, as if she just so happened to drunkenly stumble in. A wood-framed mirror was adorned with photos of Elias and an older woman. Presumably this was the much-vaunted mother who had bequeathed her ungrateful son the heirloom ring, the lustrous band that was supposed to be discarded on the bureau but was currently nowhere to be seen. Karina dropped her shoes to the floor and dug through Elias’ man-clutter, awful-smelling colognes and face creams, tangles of ear bud wires, a cracked water pipe. She considered that Brie had pulled a fast one, made the whole momma’s-boy thing up in some feeble attempt to put a glittery shine on her gremlin boyfriend. Karina rummaged through the wool socks and silk briefs that filled the bureau’s top drawer, tossing aside condoms and bags of weed and a box of stale cigarettes without catching a glimmer of the ring.
Footsteps pounded up the stairs. Karina’s fingers cast about for something to latch onto, found the box of cigs, threw one in her mouth, savored the dried nicotine, and fought the urge to light it. She snatched the weed for later and slammed the top drawer shut just as Elias walked in.
“What are you doing?” His forehead creased down the middle like a baboon’s ass.
Karina coquetted her lips into a smile and tossed the cigarette carton on the dresser. “I needed a smoke. You guys were—“ She noticed Elias’ shirt was clumsily buttoned and recalled Brie’s echoing laughter. “Doing something in the kitchen. Marco said you had some spares lying around.”
“Marco’s got a big mouth.” Elias frowned. “I thought you quit?”
“Only temporarily.” Karina held her practiced simper and bumble-strutted toward the door, trying to edge past Elias. His arms extended across the frame and cut her off, his muscled chest thrust out as if he were merely stretching. The top buttons on his shirt tumbled loose and his gold chain fell forward. The ring swung from the chain like a rusted pendant.
Karina almost blanched in disappointment. No wonder Elias didn’t wear it. Heirloom or not, it was a piece of shit. Not one fucking ounce of shining gold or precious stone adorned the tarnished band that dangled from Elias’ sinewy torso.
“How’d you get in?” Nasty accusation filled his voice. Karina tried to ignore it.
“What d’you mean how’d I get in?” She made sure to slur her words as she plucked her boots up off the floor. “I thought these’d be super comfortable, like what I paid for them. But they’re pretty awful.”
“I keep my room locked.”
“Huh. The door was wide open.” Karina pretended to struggle as she put her boots back on. Except…..She actually couldn’t slip them on. Teetering on one leg, she grabbed the bureau and jammed her right foot inside the narrow shoe only for her heel to get stuck halfway. It was like her feet had gotten bigger or the leather had shrunk or — fuck these stupid shoes.
“I know you don’t like me.” He stepped toward her.
“Buullllll-shit.” Karina fumbled the right boot on but failed to slip into the left. “Why’d — Why would I be here if I didn’t like you guys.”
“You think you’re queen bitch, don’t you?”
A smoldering rage lusted in his eyes and the smile shrank from Karina’s face. She was taller than him. She might be able to overpower him. Maybe. He pressed closer, forcing her to backup against the bureau. Her foot finally worked its way into her left shoe. She was suited up. She could take him. She readied herself.
His face was inches from hers.
“Dude, what the fuck?” Her voice cracked and the cigarette fell from her lips. “Come on, man, you made me drop it.”
“What were you doing in here?” He tightened his fist.
“I told you…I was…” She reached back blindly, feeling for the carton of cigs. Her fingers coiled around the water pipe. “Hey, you got any weed?”
“Fuck you. Get the fuck out of my house.”
Karina shattered the water pipe against Elias’ face before he could even think about touching her. She was a hair’s breadth from the doorway when he tackled her, one hand seizing her breast. He wrenched her torso as she clawed at his face and chest, ultimately smashing her knee into his tiny balls. He crumpled over and Karina stood up, ring in hand. She planted her feet and kicked forward, her awesome boots devastating his face, blasting him back into the bureau and crashing his manscaping shit to the floor. Blood gushed from Elias’ nose and he cried out, threatening to kill her, screaming for someone to call the cops. Karina flew out of the room, railroaded past Elias’ idiot roommates, yanked a tipsy Cam and manic Brie down the stairs, and escaped into the cool spring night.
* * *
The cab dropped them back at the apartment well before the stroke of twelve.
Brie, drunker than an amateur on New Year's, curled up on her bed and sobbed into a pillow. Karina dropped the ring next to her.
“Where’d you get that?” Brie sniffled.
“Where do you think?” Karina could still feel the creep’s hand assaulting her breast. She hoped he’d left fingermarks, evidence to match up against the bruises on Brie’s arm. Karina thought of showing her roommate the truth about her wonderful boy-toy right then and there, but instead Brie said:
“I didn’t know he was such an asshole. What happened?”
“I was grabbing some cigs.” Karina shrugged. “It’s been a crazy week. Don’t tell Cam.”
“Tell Cam what?” Cam, still drunk, propped herself against the doorframe.
“That I was jonesing,” Karina said.
“You shit.” Cam frowned. “You selfish whore. Goodnight Brie.”
Cam stumbled down the hall. Karina wasn’t sure if she was serious or not. No, of course she wasn’t. Cam loved her. Besides, Cam was the one that had sunk too far into the role and actually gotten drunk. If anyone should be mad, it should be her, Karina.
She let it slide. Everything would be fine in the morning.
She returned her attention to Brie.
“I was really there because I was looking for you. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Karina rubbed a comforting hand on Brie’s shoulder. Brie shrugged her off and sat up.
“I was in the kitchen. You could have found me easily.” Brie gasped up a lungful of snot and tears. When she spoke again, her voice held a shocking firmness only surpassed by the anger brewing in her mascara-streaked eyes. “You shouldn’t have taken it.”
“I grabbed it by accident when he was attacking me.”
“You should have just dropped it.”
“I was fighting for my life.” Karina couldn’t figure out what Brie’s fucking problem was. If Brie didn’t want the ring, Karina’d take it. She’d shine it up a little, pawn it for a few dollars, buy some cigs, and smoke them sooner rather than later, promises to Cam be fucked.
Her wayward fingers danced toward the ring and she had to sit on her hand to stop them.
Brie didn’t seem to notice. “It was a gift from his mother.”
“Yeah, I remember you saying that. I’m sure if you told his mom how her bunghole son was treating women --”
“She’s dead.”
Karina caught the implication like a dagger to the heart. She was a total shit for nicking the funereal gift of a boy’s dead — No. Fuck guilt. She was more than justified. If Elias blubbered about it or punched a hole in his wall and broke his fist, so be it. He was still a total cocknavel, dead mother or not.
Karina’s errant fingers snatched the ring and her heavy boots stomped toward the door. The cold metal felt soothing against her palm, worthless heirloom or not.
“Leave it.” Brie snapped.
Karina stopped. She didn’t want to, but her boots refused to carry her any further and she stood there, stupid. Her hand tightened around the ring.
“Leave it, Karina.” Brie’s tone softened. “Please. I won’t return it.”
But Karina knew she would. When Elias inevitably came calling, Brie would cave and they’d all end up back where they started. Her entire body tensed.
Fuck my life, Karina thought. She loosened her grip and let the ring clatter onto Brie’s makeup table.
“Thank you.” Brie turned her back to Karina and climbed under her comforter. “Turn off my light, will you?”
Karina lingered in the doorway, thinking over the order in her head, what it meant if she acquiesced, what it meant that fucking Brie of all people, a fucking servant with one line in the play, was giving her, fucking Cleopatra, orders. She didn’t deserve to be treated like this, especially by her fucking friends. Her booted foot thumped against the wooden floor.
Brie glared over her shoulder at Karina. Tears filled the blonde girl’s eyes. “And get rid of those hideous shoes; they’re too fucking loud.”
Karina wanted to smack Brie, tell her to go fuck herself. But it wasn’t worth it. Karina snapped the lights off as she exited the room. Everything will be fine again in the morning, she thought, her boots clonking down the hall in time with the echo of Brie’s sobs.
About the Author
Eva Olivier is an independent multimedia artist that resides in New England. She used to do a bit of traveling around the country, for some mysterious reason that has been put on hold. Eva enjoys night skies, foggy mornings, dive bars, and things that never turn out like they seem.
About the Work
"This story was written a while ago, and since then a lot of things have changed. Re-reading it, I have to ask myself and you: What is justice? Who determines it? What is truth? Who determines that? Is a sense of right all we need to make us feel like we're a good person? I'm not so certain anymore, and really, that's what I think this story is about."
Eva Olivier is an independent multimedia artist that resides in New England. She used to do a bit of traveling around the country, for some mysterious reason that has been put on hold. Eva enjoys night skies, foggy mornings, dive bars, and things that never turn out like they seem.
About the Work
"This story was written a while ago, and since then a lot of things have changed. Re-reading it, I have to ask myself and you: What is justice? Who determines it? What is truth? Who determines that? Is a sense of right all we need to make us feel like we're a good person? I'm not so certain anymore, and really, that's what I think this story is about."
