Page 1 of Jesse's Girl

1

ADA

Isqueeze the rolled-up tube of paint so hard my hands start to shake, trying to extract every last drop onto my palette. Fuck you, Candy Apple Red. It’s an intolerably cheerful name for a color. Scowling, I chuck the spent tube into the trash can and wipe my hands on my T-shirt, blowing a wisp of turquoise hair out of my eyes. Ani DiFranco’s Untouchable Face plays through my headphones. I’m really leaning into the fuck you part today. This song always makes me think of Pascal. And not fondly. He’s certainly untouchable, what with being five thousand miles away and all. Not that I would touch that cheating asshole again, even if I could.

My paintbrush dipped in the last precious drops of red paint, I carefully shade around the fingertips of the figure at the center of this piece, then step back to take in my progress. It’s the most haunting of the series I’ve been working on lately: a woman’s face submerged just under the water with her hands in the foreground—the only part of her not drowning.

“Angry painting again?” Katie’s voice cuts through the reverb on Ani’s final guitar riffs.

I whirl around, pulling my paint-smudged headphones down to my neck. “Hey! Didn’t expect to see you home.”

Between Katie’s twelve-hour night shifts in the Intensive Care Unit and her spending so much time with Dimitri, she’s been a fairly absent best friend lately. I basically live alone in our little basement hovel—soon to be just my little basement hovel, unless I can find a new roommate.

“Grabbed breakfast with Dimitri after my shift.” As she twists the white gold ring on her finger, the oval-cut sapphire catches in the light. She grins, her expression shining with something more than pancakes would explain.

“Okay, sparkle eyes.” I lift my chin and point the paintbrush her way, drawing a small circle in the air. “The post-orgasmic glow is getting a bit blinding. You two still going at it? Novelty hasn’t worn off yet?”

Katie smiles. “Engagement sex just… hits different.”

“Well, I’ll have to take your word for it.”

No way in hell I’ll be finding out anytime soon.

I’m happy for her, but I’d rather get punched in the boob than get into another serious relationship. “But, I mean, it’s been a week…”

“Yeah…” She glazes over, her gaze settling somewhere in the middle of the room.

I smirk. “You’re having a sex flashback right now, aren’t you?”

She snaps out of it, then clears her throat. “Maybe. Any luck on the roommate search?”

I sigh. “Not yet. But I’ll figure it out.”

Only a few boxes are left in Katie’s room at this point. I can’t be certain, but I figure she’s been dragging her heels on moving out officially because I still haven’t found anyone to rent her room. But I’ve known Katie since high school. She’d move in with Dimitri yesterday if she could. She practically lives at his place already, anyway.

“Where’ve you been?” I ask. “I mean, besides working and getting railed on the regular. Barely see you these days. I miss your ass.” I take a sip of water from the glass on my nightstand. As happy as I am for Katie and Dimitri, I feel a bit like they’re riding off into the sunset on a white horse while I’m left shoveling shit in the barn. But, ever since I got back from Europe, heartbroken and jaded, Katie’s given me so much—support, love, a place to live… I won’t ask her to put her own life on hold for me any longer.

“Just my ass, huh?” She turns and waggles her butt toward me.

I nearly spit my water back into the glass. “Shut up. But seriously,” I gesture between us, “it’s like I’m in a long-distance relationship again. And you know how I feel about those.”

“Ada.” Katie grabs me by both shoulders. “Look at me.”

I meet her eyes with resigned patience.

“I might be busy as fuck with work, I might have transformed into some kind of exhausted, nocturnal she-beast, and I might even be slightly dick-whipped…” She trails off, glazing over again.

I tilt my head. “Uh, were you… making a point just now?”

“Right. Fuck, I’m tired.” She sucks in a breath like a drunk trying to sober up. “My point is: I love you and I wanna see you. And… pfft, long distance? That’s not us! You’re my bestie. Plus, I would never cheat on you with some Spanish slut.”

Fucking Pascal. The memories are still raw, even a year later.

“Right,” I say. Covering the sting with dry wit, I add, “Dimitri’s Greek.”

She swats my arm.

“Hey!” I say through a surprised laugh. “I’m joking! You know I love him. And, since Pascal is to blame, let’s not throw other women under the bus. Plus, we’re reclaiming the term slut, remember?”

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