Life without Brody is like sipping soda that has been left in the sun. I feel tired all the time and I don’t want to do …anything, really. Nothing interests me anymore. Even music, which is my thing – I quickly kill any love songs that come my way. Any songs on heartbreak.
The last three months was wonderful and I was so happy, but maybe I didn’t deserve so much of happiness. Things moved so fast and so much happened in such a short space of time.
Anyway, as they say, life limps on, so I force myself to limp ahead. The hardest thing I had to do, was change my Facebook status to “Single” and change my profile picture.
It was like the death of a dream and it cut me to the bone. But, the hard part’s over.
Being the extremist that I am, I block Brody’s cell phone number as well as his emails. When he calls at my house, I get Carlene to answer. She’s only too happy to lie that I’m not home. Then invite him in for a mojito.
“So he dumped you!” Daisy whispers, when she enters my room for God knows what, sees me lying in bed in the middle of the day, staring at the ceiling. “Omigod! He DUMPED you!” The shock on her face turns to smug. “Lanie! Brody DUMPED BURN!”
“What?!” Lanie leaps over furniture to get to me, eyelash curler in hand, eyes wide with excitement. “Oh noooo!” she says in a voice as fake as her double-Ds. Told you so.
Carlene stands with Lanie at my doorway, whisky glass in hand and shakes her head. “Come have a drink with me, Burn,” she slurs.
I shake my head. I’m not in the mood to talk to them or answer any questions. I just want to be left alone.
“BURN!” It’s Brody’s voice. “I know you’re there! I wanna talk to you!”
We all look at each other with big eyes, then dart to the window. Brody paces outside with a beer in his hand. I quickly drop down and out of sight.
“Burn!”
I can hear him but I can’t see him.
“Burn, listen to me! All I asked for was four months. Four fucking months, Burn! That’s all. And you wouldn’t give it to me. Now you won’t take my calls, huh? HUH, Burn?”
“I’ll ask him to come in,” Carlene says, adjusting her push-up bra.
“No!” I say.
“He should come in and sleep it off. He can use my bed.”
“NO!”
“Ohmigod, he’s so cute,” Lanie gushes. “No guy has ever done that for me.”
“Me too,” Daisy says in a wistful voice. “And you didn’t tell us that you broke up with him. How could you do that? Are you nuts?”
I wave dismissively. No way am I going to give them details.
“People are watching,” Lanie reports. “Ohmigod, he’s stumbling around. He’s taking off his shirt …Ohmigod, he’s so seeeeexy!”
“I hate you! I absolutely hate you, Burn! I despise you!”
They look at me with huge eyes. “Did you hear that?” Daisy asks. “He despises you.”
“That’s too bad,” Lanie says.
“Why can’t we work it out? Why? ‘Cause you’re too fucking pigheaded, thaaats why, you stubborn bitch!”
I crouch with all of my fingers at my mouth and listen to him.
Then he changes his tune. “I love you. Just give me a chance, that’s all. We can do this, Burn.” His voice is soft and pleading. “I’m sorry, okay?”
“Ohmigod, he’s crying!” Daisy says. “He’s sitting on the pavement and crying like a baby. Ohmigod!”
I start to cry. I love him so much that it takes so much out of me not to go to him.
“Burn … Burn … I’m sorry. Talk to me, Burn. Talk to me. Burn! Burrrrrrrrn!”
I think of running out to him, throwing my arms around him and telling him it’s okay, that we can keep our love on the low because I love him so much, that without him I am just a shell.
Suddenly, glass shatters inside our living room. We all scream and take cover.
“He’s thrown his beer bottle at us!” Daisy screams.
“I’m calling 911!” Lanie starts dialing.
“All I wanna do is fucking explain!” Brody yells. “But you won’t …”
Within minutes the cops arrive, handcuff him and take him away.
I’m still in shock when, to my horror, Robert and Dawn McGraw show up at our door. Carlene invites them in. The moment Dawn enters our house, she takes one look around and folds her arms tightly across her chest probably to prevent herself from touching anything. They even refuse a seat.
Anyway, they apologize and offer to pay for the damaged window and a little more in compensation.
Robert tells Carlene that Brody has big plans for the future, so they would really appreciate it if she would drop all charges. Carlene readily agrees and tells them she prefers cash.
Throughout their time at my home, neither Dawn, nor Robert says a word to me. Not even “hello” or “goodbye”.
When they leave, I get into my bed, curl up and sob for Brody.
Hours later, Daisy runs into my room with her laptop opened to YouTube. “You have to see this,” she says and clicks on play.
“What is it?”
“Your boyfriend’s arrest. Someone posted it on YouTube.”
“Really?” I scramble up and watch the screen. I watch Brody’s earlier pleas to me. “Ohmigod!” I place both hands on my chest as I watch Brody pace outside. He’s shirtless, with a beer in his hand and he looks smashed. After yelling for a while, he leans against a post and says, “Burn … Burn … Burn …”
Then he yells out and throws the beer bottle at our house. Shortly thereafter I watch the cops arrest him. “I wanna talk to my girlfriend,” he says as they throw him in the back of the police car.
“Not today, you’re not.”
“BURN!” Brody shouts through the patrol car window. “BURN!”
I cry all over again thinking how sad he looks. The only thing I don’t doubt, is that he loves me. Still, at the end, I’m not good enough for them and I just can’t get past that.
To my dismay, I later learn that, because Brody and I were in a relationship, Brody was slapped with a restraining order for domestic abuse. I can’t believe it – a restraining order – that is huge. How terrible.
I guess the arrest was a wake-up call because Brody’s texts stop and so does all contact.
That’s even more devastating to me.
****
I look at the newspaper in front of me. On the front page are Brody and his smiling family with their hands in the air – their triumph at Robert McGraw’s political win. He is now Governor of California. Yay!
At school, it’s a big deal and there is an announcement that Governor Robert McGraw and his lovely wife and his sons are scheduled to appear at school as our guests in a week’s time.
“I guess keeping me on the low paid off,” I mutter bitterly.
“She and her Parlor shampoo,” Erro scoffs. “Uppity bitch!”
I look at Erro with huge eyes. “I’ve got an idea!” Bristling with excitement, I pick up the phone and conference my peeps. “Guess what? Forget about the scorpion, I got me a greeeeat idea for the revenge on Dawn.”
Ever ready to extract fun out of our day, my girls are all ears.
Two days later, we’re ready to exact revenge on Dawn McGraw.
I look at my girls. “Got it?”
Tina holds up the bottles.
My smile reaches my eyes. “Let’s go.”
Armed with our doctored bottles of Parlor’s shampoo and conditioner and with a rhythm to our step, we make our way to Brody’s house and scale the fence. I’ve been there before so I know about the side window that Brody and Nick use to sneak out at night.
Tina and Laura walk up and knock at the front door, while Sultana and I sneak around the side of the house. If we’re spotted, Laura has a bunch of half-wilted flowers to hand to Mrs. Dawn McGraw – for winning the election.
I hear the doorbell. No answer. Doesn’t appear that anyone’s home. Perfect.
Laura hits me with a text: All clear.
I slip into the McGraw house through the faulty side window, creep into Dawn’s bathroom and empty our doctored shampoo and conditioner into her bottles. Her Parlor shampoo and conditioner now contain scented, double-strength hair remover.
Bye bye Dawn’s beautiful hair!
Then, I riffle through her make-up and help myself to her Dior bronzer, a palate of YSL eye shadows and her Chanel No 5 parfum and start to leave.
“Wait!” Sultana says, holding up two toothbrushes, an evil smile on her face. She brushes the toilet bowl with them, then replaces them. Dusting her hands, she says, “Now, let’s go.”
We bolt out of the house and run back to school, laughing and high-fiving each other all the way.
“Tomorrow!” I say.
“Tomorrow!” they chorus.
“Ha! Ha!” Erro says, ‘You girls are wicked!”
“We sure are,” I say laughing.
“Hey, you’re laughing again – does that mean Burn is back?”
“Yes, Erro, Burn is back and she’s baaaaad!”
“Great! You were such a drip.”
“I was, I was. But I’m back.”
At assembly, we laugh our asses off when we see Dawn McGraw with a scarf around her head, looking less than perfect and miserable as fuck.
“Poor Dawn, it’ll take ages to grow,” Tina says.
“Poor, poor Dawn,” I say. “Gone is her lovely blonde shoulder-length hair with nutmeg highlights. Aaawww!”
To make things worse and to our sheer delight, the newspapers run an article with her photo saying things about chemotherapy and all kinds of cancer stuff.
Dawn fires back with a statement saying that she does not have cancer and that she shaved her head for some charity. Liar, liar, pants on fire!
I feel good after that. Who wouldn’t?