Pictures, torn and shredded, scattered the broken derby covered floor as Sara, favoring her bloodied, broken hand, sat near a hole in the wall. He walked in her best friend since childhood. She loved him because, as a friend, his there, so she’ll let him stay. But she hates him because he’s a man, so she won’t talk to him.
He kneeled in front of her. “Are you okay?” She crossed her eyes at he as if he’d asked, “Is there wall in this house?” He signed and looked at her and turned it to see that it was broken. She’s probably crying more because of her broken hand. She gets up and walked away.
“Do you need to go to the hospital?” he asked.
“What do you know? All you do is cheat on women. Expect me to be home and … you… you doing whatever. I hate you!”
“Me?” I asked. “Me?”
“You know what I meant.” She then cursed under her breath as she cried. In my arms, she told me how they argued, how she found the other girl texting her boyfriend on her phone. The she told me how she got so mad, she broke everything in the house, ripped all the pictured of them, throw stuff around and punched the wall. She blamed herself for not having enough dirty sex or doing enough fetishes in bed and not buying him enough useless toys for amusement.
“It’s not your fault, Sara.” I said. “You just found the wrong man.” He started to give her the ‘you’ll find the right man’ speech, but instead, said, “At least he didn’t pee in your car seat like that one date you had.” She laughed, as she remembered the dude was really a weirdo. He then when and joked about a couple of her weird men in her past. As she laughed, her hand hurt more.
“Maybe I need to get this checked, it really hurts.”
Hours later, at the hospital, Sara walked out with a case on her hand and smile covering her face and holding two cheap suckers. She hands me one as she eats the other. “You know what I wanna see? Willi Wonda,” she said, leaning into me. That was our first and only day, watching Willi Wonda and the Chocolate Factory and eating cheap suckers all night. That night was filled with some of the best laughing I ever had. That was also the night she concluded that we should only be friends because she didn’t want to ruin the friendship.
“I still got the video. And I could get some suckers?” she added, rubbing his back and resting her head on his shoulder. “Maybe some chicken fried steak and fried?” that was his favorite dish. Not only that, she was a master in the kitchen. He nodded and took her to his house.
