She rolls her eyes. “No. I’m not ready to talk about where I’ve been these past few days. Who even cares?”
Her eyes are fierce. “How about you? Are you ready to talk about why you’re too much of a pussy to act on what you want?”
“It’s not like that,” I begin, but she groans and turns the volume up. “Carrie…”
“It is like that!” she hisses.
For all of my patience over the months and all the relief of having the girl back safe and sound, I feel the simmer of impatience under my cool. I don’t lose my temper with the people I work with. I subscribe to the philosophy that people are always doing the best they can with the resources they have available. That in Carrie’s world right now she’s making choices based on choices she’s been making all her life up until this point. That she doesn’t mean what she says, it’s just that she doesn’t have a framework for more effective ways of social interaction.
Even so, I want to give the bratty little cow a good slap for her rudeness.
I take a breath to compose myself and she laughs at me.
“Don’t like being called a pussy? Then don’t fucking act like one.”
“This isn’t my office,” I tell her, and my voice doesn’t sound like mine.
“No, it’s your posh friend’s place and you put me in here.”
“Yes, I did. Because you needed somewhere to stay. You still do. Last night has nothing to do with anything. You needed help, I was there.”
“There with a fucking hard on in your pants. Admit it, that’s why you came to rescue me, right? That’s why you even give a shit?”
I can’t keep up with this. I stare in morbid fascination as Carrie’s glare burns right through me. Angry with me for not fucking her? Angry for not breaking my principles? Angry that I want to?
“This is impossible,” I say to her. “This conversation is impossible.”
She folds her arms. “You want me to leave?”
“No,” I tell her. “I don’t want you to leave.”
“Then let me watch my fucking TV show,” she says.CarrieI don’t know why I’m being like this. I don’t know why I’m pushing him away as soon as he’s walked through the fucking door, but bitchy Carrie is running the show and I can’t stop myself talking shit at him.
I feel a weird satisfaction in the way he looks so confused. Hurt. He looks hurt, and that’s satisfying too.
I don’t know why I want him to think I’m a lazy useless bitch. I only put the TV on when I saw his car pull into the street and I don’t even watch this shitty show. I don’t know why I used a different plate for every sandwich and left them piled up around me for maximum mess. I don’t know why I’m being such a terrible cow to a man who’s only ever tried to help me.
Because he doesn’t want me.
Because he doesn’t love me.
Because he’ll never love me.
The urge to give him the finger and tell him to fuck off out of my life is strong. I feel it twisting in my belly, the urge to make him leave me and get this over with.
I could scream in his face that he’s a useless prick who probably can’t keep it up, but I’m not sure that would do it. The words are on the tip of my tongue, but they won’t come out.
He sighs at me and turns his back, and that’s when I feel the rage build up. He’s heading to the kitchen with an announcement that he’s going to make coffee when I spring to my feet and follow him into the hall.
“Did you tell those stupid cunts you found me?! Did you?!”
He turns on the spot and raises an eyebrow. “I assume you’re referring to Rosie and Bill?”
I fold my arms. “Yeah, those cunts.”
I both hate and love the way he shakes his head. There’s an anger in his eyes, but he hides it well. “Enough of the language.”
My laugh is my bitchiest one. “Enough of the language,” I parrot. “Do you think you’re my fucking dad or something? Do you want to be my fucking daddy, Michael?”
He takes a step toward me and my skin tickles. “Stop it, Carrie.”
“Or what?” I goad. “Is Daddy gonna spank me?” I’m cackling as I spin to present my ass, giving myself a decent slap as he approaches. “Oh yeah, spank me, Daddy. Teach me a lesson.”
I’ve gone too far and I know it. My heart drops as I register I’m losing him, but I can’t take it back. I don’t know how.
He looks at his watch, his mouth a tight line. “Well, as long as you’re settled in here, Carrie, I’ll make my way home for a while. I’ll get onto the agencies in the morning for appointments in the afternoon, if that’s what you’d like? Do you want to be out of here? What do you want, Carrie?”