Now, love is a sacred trust, right? And this girl, my Jess, we have a bond like brother and sister, except, you know, a brother and sister who have sex. Except for the part where it’s incest. We don’t have incest, we have sex. Like a brother and sister would, if it weren’t disgusting.
Jess is telling me that, even though our love is as strong as ever, that she is done with me and I have to stop calling her.
And I’m cool about it, because remember, it’s all gonna turn out good somehow, I know it. She just has to relax a little, glide softly into the relationship, not put up such a fight.
“I’m not going to fight you, you fucking idiot, Brad is going to knock your head off your shoulders if you ever get near me again.”
This is Jess at her energetic best. All fire and passion. Love. See what I mean? Brad is her brother.
“Baby, I’m your real brother,” I’m saying, “Brad ain’t got shit. I’m gonna take you places. What’s that muscle-head got that I ain’t got?”
It’s quiet on the other end for a moment. She’s thinking about it, for once. She knows, deep, deep, down inside that I’m the one, and that this is an opportunity she’ll never have again.
“Motherfucker I am going to cave your face in if you call here again.”
Brad on the phone. He must have snatched it away from her, the nosey bastard.
“Brad, is that you?” I say.
“I’m the motherfucker that’s gonna knock your block off,” Brad says.
This doesn’t make sense to me. “Wait, I thought I was the motherfucker,” I say.
“You are the motherfucker,” Brad says, “The motherfucker I’m going to punch in the mouth.”
At this point, I try to be patient and explain, for his benefit, that this is not how telephones work, that he cannot simply put his fist through the receiver, but after a moment I see that I am talking into nothingness.
Probably lost the signal.
When I try calling back, I find that I can’t get through, which means that I’ll have to go speak with her in person.
First, though, I have to find my pants.