"Done!" Payton sets the scissors down then picks it up and slaps it down on the table in front of me, a huge smile covering her face. She appears to be genuinely proud over her creation.
She's drawn a foaming glass of beer onto a heart-shaped piece of scrap sheet fabric. I glance at it and then back to her.
"What is this?"
"A bar badge!" she announces with, yes, I'm going with pride.
"You made me a badge. For a bar." I run my fingers along it. I have to admit she's done nice work. "A heart-shaped badge. What level uses heart-shaped badges?" I'm joking because heart-shaped badges do not exist.
"The fun level."
I frown at her, suspicious. "What did I do to earn this badge?"
"You had an orgasm in a bar." She says this part as if she assumed the criteria for the bar badge was obvious.
"You are so messed up," I mutter.
"They didn't kick me out of the Girl Troopers for nothing. Now, we need a sash. Let's see what we can use." She jumps up and starts digging through my pile of sheet fabric.
"Whoa, what do you mean we need a sash?"
"For your badge?" she replies, again with a frown as if I'm simply not getting it. "Where are we supposed to display all your badges if you don't have a sash?"
"All what badges?"
"All the fun badges you're going to earn," she says without looking at me as she digs a faded floral print from the pile. "Can I use this?"
Okay, the thing is, I really do enjoy earning badges. I find it very satisfying.
"What other badges do you have in mind?" I try to ask it casually, like it's a joke, but I'm not sure how successful I am. I twirl a lock of hair around my fingertip and try to look nonchalant. It's been so long since I had a new badge to earn.
"The next badge is the 'no fucks' badge."
"Haven't I already earned that badge? By not having sex?"
"It's more of a 'fuck everyone' badge." Payton spreads the fabric across my cutting mat and picks up the acrylic cutting ruler, lining it up neatly along the edge of the fabric.
"Payton, I told you group sex is not my thing. Normally I believe in trying something before you decide it's not for you, but I just don't think sex parties are something one tries unless they have a predisposed interest."
"Um, wow." She's bent over the fabric smoothing the wrinkles with her hand but she stops and stands up straight. "You are really literal." She hands me the cutting ruler and motions to my chair. "Switch places with me."
"I thought you were making me a sash."
"I was, but then I realized sewing is pretty complicated and I want to do a good job so I think you should do it."
"I should make the sash because you want to do a good job," I repeat as I stand and switch places with her. "So many things are making sense right now."
"Make sure you do a good job because I have pride in my work."
"Of course you do." I realign the fabric on the cutting mat then place the ruler and make a quick swipe through the fabric with the rotary cutter, before moving the ruler and making a second cut so that I have five inch-wide strips of fabric. Then I grab my pincushion and start pinning the strips together so I can make a hidden seam.
"Anyway, we'll call your next badge the confidence badge," Payton says as she gets to work with her Sharpies. "Since calling it the 'fuck everyone' badge seems a little dicey for you. You haven't earned this one yet, but I'm going to make it and hang it on the fridge so you have a goal."
"Do you think this is a bit dysfunctional?"
"No. I think this is adulting done right."
I do like having goals so I decide she must be correct.
Eleven
LYDIA
It turns out I can earn the confidence badge by going to work on Monday. It's a little more complicated than that, but that's the gist. Payton said new week, new me. She said I have to go be brave, go to work, and not fire myself.
She also said that since Rhys made out with me it means she was right that propositioning him for sex made his day. I reminded her that he turned me down for sex and she insisted it was because he has an erectile dysfunction. She's a really sweet friend to say so, but I don't think it's true. I think he rejected me because he didn't want to have sex with me. Which is his right, obviously. Absolutely.
Payton said Rhys needs to stop kissing me if he's not going to put out. I told her that gender equality works both ways and it's offensive for her to imply that a man is a tease for wanting to stop at kissing. I don't think I got through to her though because she fell asleep while I was talking. She had a Cheez-It in one hand and was splayed across the sofa like the errant toddlers I used to babysit in high school. I took the Cheez-It from her and covered her with a blanket before taking myself to bed where I lay awake for a long time, thinking about Rhys. Thinking about my reaction to him. Thinking about my feelings. Thinking, thinking, thinking.
I head into Monday more confident than I did exiting Friday, though.
A bit.
Enough to agree that it's not likely I'll get fired, but not enough to have a clue about what I'm supposed to do about Rhys. I really don't understand why he's so determined to avoid me. I felt how much he liked me on Saturday—literally, I felt it on my leg. So what's the problem? I'm not asking for him to marry me and father my children, for crying out loud.
Unless.
Shit.
Maybe that's it? Maybe he's tired of women using him for sex. It must happen a lot—looking at him, I can see how it would. I can't be the only girl who loses her mind at the sight of him. I bet he's sick of women treating him like a sex object. Especially when he has so much more to offer. Like, he probably does all sorts of things other than have sex. Like he might golf and… I'm drawing a blank about what else he might be interested in. Because I am a terrible person using him for sex. Ugh, no wonder he nearly shoved me off of him and left the bar.
But I like the way he kisses me. And I know that should fall under a sexual thing, and it does. But it also falls under something I simply just like about him. Something that showed me who he is when he's with me. I liked how he held me that first time he kissed me. The way his hand felt on my hip and the way he didn't push me for more or slide his hands to places that might have startled me in the moment. The way that it felt like he respected me, even though I was a stranger he was kissing in a bar. I liked it that he took me into the back office instead of kissing me in front of everyone the way a lot of men might have.
And the second time—well, I liked everything about that. The twitch in his jaw when he stood in front of me as I was playing darts with Josh. The possessive way he took my hand in his and walked us in back. Maybe I should have been irritated by that—and I suppose if I was interested in Josh I might have been annoyed. But I wasn't annoyed, I was thrilled. Thrilled to see Rhys again. Thrilled to have my hand tucked in his. Thrilled to have him to myself.
I liked the way he arranged us on the sofa so that I wasn't trapped underneath him. I liked the way he looked at me, like he was fascinated by me, like he wanted to devour me, like I was beautiful. I liked the way he laughed at me, his expression relaxing, the tiny lines by his eyes creasing from a lifetime of repetition. I like, I like, I like.