The Liberator

Things only get darker from here, doll. Might want to hold my hand for this.

Can you take me back into town?" I say. "I can't get my voicemails." "Why don't you calm down, D-Dub. I know you're menstruating, but everything's going to be fine. Once we get inside, I'll explain all about maxi pads, personal hygiene and the feel of a man's penis.

I'll love you forever," I hear her whisper. And even though I've said it a hundred times. A thousand. I say it again. "I love you, angel. Forever.

Looking mighty fine, if I do say so myself: red v-neck, dark denim, designer combat boots, and enough testosterone rolling off me to satisfy Nicki Minaj. Pow!

That dress you're wearing..." Kraven says to Annabelle. Her eyes rise, meeting his stare. "It's quite expensive." Annabelle makes a face. "Don't worry, I'll give it back. You're the one who wanted to have this ridiculous dinner.

But I'm hungry. I bypass the line and smile to myself when the peeps behind me mumble complaints. Telling their families and friends about "this dick in the snack line" will be the highlight of their day.

Annabelle smiles with one side of her mouth. "I don't look like a tomato?" "You look like a beauty." I take her arm and guide her toward the lounge area. "Now rock that shit.

All I care about is showing this chode exactly who he's messing with. Throwing my door open, I step out. If he has a gun, so be it. I'll take it in the chest like the animal I am.

When I near Charlie’s house, I notice she’s standing in the doorway with a spatula in her hand. Despite being on edge, I can’t stop myself from grinning. I feel like such a chick around her sometimes, like I’m seconds away from buying a tiara and starting my period.

I'm surprised he doesn't reach for a wet nap to rid his hands of my general poorness.

Music from the party throbs and echoes off the basement walls. I’m not sure how I got here, and I’m certain I don’t know how Charlie ended up on the other side of the room with Guy In Touch With His Emotions. Raising a bottle to my lips, I watch as the guy uncrosses his long legs and recrosses them. His tampon must be killing him.

I'll make waffles. My face lights up. Yes, she continues and bacon. I look at Max and nod towards Charlie That's my girl! Damn straight, he says.

It doesn't say a damn thing. My pride deflates like a limp penis.

But sometimes that can make a girl so much more appealing. The beauty who doesn't know she’s beautiful.

I can smell the ocean in the distance. The salt wraps around my body, making my skin feel tight, and already I want to shower. I can do big cities, and small cities, and the even the occasional mountaintop is cool. But oceans are ridiculous. They take up way too much space in this overcrowded world and are filled with creatures that have several sets of teeth, like one row of man-eating teeth isn’t enough. And just to add insult to injury, all that water isn’t even drinkable. If you ask me, the ocean is kind of a prick.

In front of us, Annabelle and Aspen argue over whether black-and-white movies are amazing or archaic. Blue walks a few feet behind like he’s waiting for the pair to transition from verbal zingers to hair pulling. He wants a front-row seat for that show, and I don’t blame him.

If you could have anything, Dante, anything at all, what would it be? She slurs. Her. I want Charlie.

Ready or not! Before I can stop him, Max races toward the bed and dives on top of us. Oh! Oh it feels even better than I imagined. He rolls back and forth across us as Charlie laughs and I wonder why I am friends with such a raging idiot.

Annabelle smiles with one side of her mouth. “I don’t look like a tomato?” “You look like a beauty.” I take her arm and guide her toward the lounge area. “Now rock that shit.

I don't mumble anymore, collector. I'm not a collector anymore, pipsqueak.