My brows shot up. I wasn’t prepared for such anger this early in the morning from a complete stranger, but at the same time, it spoke volumes about her devotion and loyalty to Hamilton. I shrugged. I wasn’t really the type of person to get offended if someone didn’t like me.
“Okay, no problem,” I replied while holding my hands up. “I’ll go get dressed.”
Jess squinted at me as I turned around and made my way to the bathroom. I took a quick, hot shower, not bothering to wash my long hair. After brushing my teeth and putting on deodorant, I got dressed in a pair of high-waisted shorts and a black crop top. When I made my way back to the living room, Jess was sitting on the recliner with a cup of coffee in her hands, looking me up and down with scrutiny.
“How are you and Hamilton related again?” she asked. Oh, so now she wanted to know about me?
I started folding the blankets on the couch. “My mom shotgun married his older brother,” I admitted. The honesty dripping from my tongue felt good. “I met Hamilton at the wedding. Well, meet is a really loose term for our first introduction. I walked in on him fucking the bridesmaid.”
Jess broke out into a smile, showing off her bright teeth. “Classic Hamilton.”
I, too, grinned. Looking back at it, seeing Hamilton fuck a bridesmaid was fitting for our strange dynamic. “It was pretty memorable.” I kept replaying what I saw on loop in my mind. I bit my lip while shoving my pajamas in my duffel bag before checking my phone. Jack had sent a text an hour ago saying he was leaving soon.
“I feel bad for your mom. Joseph is a dick,” Jess said before taking a sip. She was testing the waters with me, I could tell. I knew Jess for all of thirty minutes and could already tell that she wasn’t discreet, she didn’t bury her disdain deep in her chest. She wore her opinions like a badge of honor. It was endearing, and if one of those opinions wasn’t hatred of me, we’d probably be friends.
“I don’t really know him, and I don’t make a habit of judging people I don’t know.” I gave Jess a pointed stare, letting her know with a single look exactly what I thought of her snap judgment of me.
“Fair enough.” Jess seemed soured but still determined. She set her cup down on a side table and crossed her arms over her chest. “Hamilton brought you here, though. I’m trying to decide if it’s because of his tragic guilt that seems to dictate every decision he makes, or if there’s something special about you.”
Tragic guilt? I wanted to know what she meant by that, but I kept my curiosity to myself. “It’s probably neither,” I answered. “Maybe he just was trying to be nice.”
Jess cackled dramatically, her raspy voice wrapping around me like smoke. “Hamilton isn’t nice.”
“He was nice to me,” I admitted.
“Fine. Let’s see if you’re worthy,” Jess said while looking me up and down. “Rapid fire friendship questions. One round. Don’t think, just answer. I like to get to the nitty gritty right off the bat. Favorite alcoholic drink?”
What did this have to do with Hamilton? “Not much of a drinker. I don’t smoke weed either.”
“Perfect. Hamilton has an addictive personality, so you have to be careful. Women’s rights?”
“Well, duh. I’m a woman. Of course I want women’s rights.”
“I love a strong woman. Hamilton needs someone that doesn’t accept less than what she deserves.” Jess rubbed her hands together before continuing. “If you had to choose between good sex with a bad partner or bad sex with a good partner, what would you choose?”
I swallowed. My first instinct was to say good sex, but then I thought of roses with plucked petals and said something else. “Neither. I don’t settle.”
“Pro-choice? I volunteer at a woman’s center, so I like to make sure the people I surround myself with aren’t going to shame me for that.”
The answer spilled out of me before I could stop myself. No one had ever really asked me that before. “That’s tricky. My mother was fifteen when she had me. I’m thankful she kept me, because I kind of like being alive, but she shouldn’t have had to. I’m not sure if it was guilt that made her go through with the pregnancy or if she just didn’t have access to the services to terminate. I know she didn’t want to be a mother, but she didn’t want to give me up for adoption either. I think she was just too young to make those decisions and didn’t have someone in her life to help her through the process. She just did what she thought she was supposed to, and we both struggled needlessly.” I slammed my lips closed. I’d never admitted that before. Time seemed to stop, and I pressed the pads of my fingers to my mouth. Was that truly how I felt? Did I wish my mother would have gotten an abortion? She was so young. So vulnerable. “Why are you asking me all of this?”
“Because it’s fun.” Jess shrugged before pressing on. “Who do you love most in the world?”
“My mom.”
“Why?”
I opened my mouth, trying to come up with a list of reasons I knew were appropriate. Because she was family. Because she always took care of me. Because loving her was this instinctual thing children were hardwired to do. “I just do. I don’t have to explain why I love someone to you.”
“Amen to that. Trying to explain to my conservative parents why I loved women was obnoxious. Fuck them.” Jess yelped before fist pumping the air. I noticed a tattoo of Ruth Bader Ginsburg on her arm. “If you could eat anything for the rest of your life, what meal would it be?”
“I lived on cheap mac ’n’ cheese for a majority of my childhood, so I’d probably pick that.”
“When was the first day of your last menstrual period?”
“Excuse me?”
“I like to know if we are in sync.”
“I’m not answering that,” I snapped.
“Fine. Is it more important to be a good person or be a liked person?”
I scowled. “Good people are generally liked,” I replied.
“You’re so naïve. It’s cute,” Jess replied while cocking her head to the side. “Are you religious?”
“I think there’s a god up there. I’m not really a churchgoer.”
“My dad is a pastor and kind of an asshole,” Jess explained. “Are you attracted to Hamilton?”
“He’s my uncle,” I stammered.
“That isn’t what I asked.”
I straightened my spine. It was my turn. Ignoring her question, I then spoke. “If you found someone’s wallet on the ground, would you return it to them?” I asked.
Jess tilted her chin. “Of course.”
“If you had to give your kidney to one person in the world, who would it be?”
“Hamilton,” she replied, squirming. “Definitely Hamilton. But he’d be stupid and not accept my kidney, then make me plan his fucking funeral.”
“Would you rather be rich and miserable or poor and happy?”
“I’ve been both, and I like myself more when I’m poor,” she admitted. “Maybe you’re not so terrible. You seem like the type of person I could potentially not hate. Down to earth. You aren’t chronically privileged like the rest of the Beauregards, too. I volunteer with a few nonprofits. You should check out my blog, Activist Bitch.”