SkylerOcon
Tiny Dancer
Something I've been working on for a while. I hope you all like it.
“Oh God…” I said those words inaudibly to myself as I keeled over once more, vomiting into the toilet bowl. Being sick was hardly entertaining, and tonight, it was the epitome of bad timing.
I was begging myself to stop throwing up - a man sitting next to the toilet in dressy pants and an expensive shirt certainly not a pleasant sight. He had either gone somewhere fancy and had gotten sick from it, or was planning to go somewhere upscale and had his evening plans ruined.
I knew that I had to get up and explain why I wouldn’t show up for my date tonight. My girlfriend for three years had probably already arrived at Cattleman’s, a steak restaurant, and she would not be pleased to have to turn around and leave after driving across town to get there. I gripped the side of the wall and weakly pulled myself upward; I proceeded to stumble out of the bathroom and to my telephone.
It was more muscle memory than actual thinking when I mashed my fingers into the telephone keys. I had called my girlfriend so many times that I doubted even the worst case of amnesia could force it out of my brain. The phone rang a few times until a familiar voice answered.
“James? Where are you? You’re late!” My girlfriend’s tone was a mix of worry and frustration. Despite being only ten minutes late, it would take me another forty or fifty minutes to drive to the steakhouse.
I gave a harsh cough and then forced out a reply. “I’m sorry, Lexi! I got sick. I think it’s that damn salmon my father made when I went over to my parents’ house last night. I know; that’s three dates now that I’ve had to cancel on now. I’m so, so sorry. I really am. Please don’t be mad at me.”
Lexi sighed. “First, you get hung up with work. Then, your car breaks down, and now you’re sick? You either have shitty luck, or you’re a terrible liar.”
“Lexi! Why would I lie to you? All of that really happened!” I was starting to get upset. The extra stress wouldn’t be good for my voice.
“Like the police checkpoint on 5th?”
In my head, I was cursed at myself. I still can’t believe I had lied about that. About six months after I started dating Lexi, I blew off going to see a show with her (moneywise, it wasn’t that bad – the tickets were only about twenty dollars) and instead went to a bar. They didn’t let people in after they were late at the particular theatre, so I thought I could get away with saying there was a police checkpoint on 5th Avenue which held me up and caused me to be late.
I found out later, however, that Lexi stopped off to buy some flowers at the florist’s shop on 5th, which was the closest to her house, before going to the theatre. Naturally, it didn’t take her long to figure out that the police checkpoint scenario was merely a ruse.
“That was one time, okay! And I almost lost you because of that. I had to stand out in front of your house in the freezing cold of night and wait for you to finally give in and talk to me. For three hours. It wasn’t fun, I assure you,” I said sarcastically, which I realized quickly was not a wise choice; my words came out far too harshly.
“You’re a real piece of work James, you know that?”
“I didn’t mean for that to come out that way, alright?” Suddenly, I felt a fierce twist in my stomach, and my moved as fast as my body would allow me towards the bathroom. Dropping to my knees, more vomit forced its’ way up my throat. I hardly heard what my girlfriend was saying before I dropped the phone and threw up (she ceased talking once this happened).
There was a slight pause while I grabbed at my wash cloth and used it to wipe my mouth. I walked back out into the main room and picked up the phone.
“Oh, come on James! There is no way that could have sounded more fake!”
I ran my fingers through my hair. “Lexi, what are you talking about? Why would I fake being sick? I wanted to go tonight!”
“Then why didn’t you call before?”
“I was too sick! I was keeled over the toilet for an hour and a half before I was able to get up and call you.”
“Your cell phone? I know you called from the apartment’s phone.”
“I left it on the table charging.” I gave a weak motion towards the table, despite nobody being in the room.
“You sure seem to leave it on the table a lot…” Lexi’s voice seethed with disbelief. “Half the time I try calling you on it, you check your messages later only to say you left it on the table charging.”
“It’s the phone model! I couldn’t afford a new one.”
“Not even a cheap twenty dollar one?”
“After I spent one hundred on this phone?”
“Whatever, James. I think a one hundred dollar phone could hold a charge for longer than four hours.”
“I don’t know why the phone can’t hold a charge either. It’s a shitty model. I should’ve gotten a better one. And it’s five hours, not four.”
Lexi sighed. “I don’t care how long your goddamn phone can hold a charge for. Seriously James, after this, the bar, and that party with Eric, I just don’t know about it anymore.”
“It?”
“Us! It is us.”
“The party with Eric was his bachelor party. The guy’s my best friend. Of course I was going to go!”
“And what about that whore giving you a lap dance?”
“It was a bachelor party. So what, I went a little too far. What, do you think I slept with the girl?” The last sentence was halfway a joke and halfway serious.
“Did you?”
“Alright, now you’re just being unfair. You know I said that jokingly.” My head involuntarily shook in disbelief.
“Well? What if you did?” Lexi’s voice was full of stress. After a second she calmed down. “Look, James, I want to believe you. It’s just that all this stuff keeps happening, and I don’t know if I should believe it anymore.”
“It was three things!”
“And what do you have to say about these three things?”
I began to answer, but there was another tug at my stomach. I ran back into the bathroom and threw up once more. I stumbled back out into the hallway.
“Oh, great. More fake puking. Fuck you, James.”
“Lexi, why do you think I’m faking being sick?” I clutched my hair with my free hand and squeezed.
“Why did you lie about the police checkpoint and go to the bar?”
“That’s unfair and you know it. I’ve already apologized and admitted my mistake there!”
“Well you lied to me then and I think you’re lying to me now.”
“Why would I lie to you?” I slid my face into the palm of my free hand, and began to rub my temples.
“You certainly did then, and you certainly are now. Goodbye, James.”
I glanced down at the small, square, black velvet case on my coffee table. I remained silent.
