“I think you’re forgetting something.”
“Am I?” I said, eyes wide. “How unlike me. And what, pray tell, am I forgetting?”
“The guy you had a one-night stand with,” Charlie said, smooth as silk. “And also your boyfriend. Who happen to be two different people.”
“You bitch,” I growled into the microphone as the audience laughed uproariously. There was going to be no end to his suffering, I would see to that.
“Oops,” Charlie said, not repentant in the slightest. I wondered where I’d gone so wrong that Charlie wasn’t scared of me like most everyone else was. I think it probably stemmed back to Lulu Deerdancer, and I cursed not taking him down and asserting my dominance the first day I’d met him.
Who was I kidding? He would have beaten the shit out of my ass, scolded me for even trying, put me in my place, then sent me home with instructions to return when I could show respect.
“How could I possibly forget about them?” I said.
“I don’t know,” Charlie said. “You would think they’d be a handful, wouldn’t you? I mean, from personal experience.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” I said.
“Indeed,” Charlie said. “Kori wants to say something.”
I sighed heavily, aware that my sequined train wreck was going to have many, many victims.
“Hi, Helena!”
“Kori,” I said.
“You’re doing a good job.”
“Thanks.”
“And I think you’re pretty.”
“Noted.”
“Also, how does that work if we’re bidding on your boyfriend? You know, Darren. The Homo Jock King. Who you love. With your heart. Lovingly. He’s not exactly a bachelor.”
I felt relief then that I thought working out was an awful thing, so I didn’t have the strength to crush my microphone into powder. “Right. All that love.” It was possible I was just heartless enough to kick one of my best friends out of my house onto the streets. I really wished I had a time machine so I could go back to the day Mike pulled me into his office and murder myself so I would never be in this position. How odd that the idea of time travel and murder seemed easier than admitting feelings, for fuck’s sake.
“All that love,” Kori whispered into the microphone.
“Well, obviously it’s not going to be a romantic date,” I said, trying to play the part. “Seeing as how Darren Mayne barely managed to lock all this down.” And, of course, since my life was a bit of a divine tragedy, that’s when I saw Caleb in the crowd, grinning up at me like he didn’t have a care in the world. My gaze skittered over him, and I tried to not make anyone aware that I was four seconds away from scratching his eyes out. “Why would he go looking somewhere else when he can have a piece of this whenever he wants?”
The audience laughed.
Caleb did too.
I didn’t think it was funny.
I hoped he did something stupid or potentially rapey so I could get him kicked out of the club. Then I realized wanting someone to do something potentially rapey made me a bad person, so I considered trying to plant drugs on him. But I didn’t even know where one could buy drugs, much less how to plant them, so I had to rest my hopes on his stupidity or that he was just here as a spectator.
I could get through this.
I would get through this.
I was Helena fucking Handbasket.
I could do anything.
“So, yes,” I said, my voice evening out, becoming dark and sultry again. “I am putting Darren out on loan for an evening of platonic merriment. He is a rather pretty thing, after all. But he’ll be returned to me with nary a mark upon his rock-hard body. I would absolutely hate to think of what would happen if that wasn’t the case.”