[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.Claire got busted with cocaine and Rick fired her, just like that.And Louise just up and disappeared.Rick thought she might have gone to LA to make porn.Bit by bit, the things that felt familiar and safe were replaced with things that felt custom-designed to pick me apart.And a month ago? A month ago, I lost pretty much everything.I leave the boys to their soccer game and go back inside, closing the door behind me.I sit on my bed with my laptop beside me, wondering what to do with the sudden revelation of Levi’s last name.Is this a gift from the universe to make up for all the shit of the last few months? Would it be wrong to squander it?I open my laptop, go to a Google search, and type in “Levi Borovski Seattle.”The first thing that comes up is the University of Washington student newspaper, and a recent article entitled “The Truth about the Sex Trade,” by L.Borovski.“Oh my god…” My voice seems to hang there in the dark, daring me to click on the link.I finally do it, and read Levi’s soul-crushing essay about his inadvertent journey into the heart of darkness, and the ruthless self-examination that accompanied his voyage back.I’m shaking with sobs when I read his closing paragraph:For every “happy hooker,” there are estimated to be at least ten unhappy ones, unwilling ones, ones who have been forced into it, or ones who are trapped in sexual slavery.In multiple studies, over ninety percent of prostitutes wanted immediate help getting out of the sex industry.Over ninety percent.Imagine if college football was like this, or marching band.Would we be talking about “reform,” or would we just stop going to football games and parades?And there, underneath the article, is a little bio of Levi, along with a button to connect with him on Facebook.How brave is that? He must have gotten roasted over some of the stuff in that article.The sex-positive feminists would have taken him to the cleaners.I click on the Facebook button and his limited profile comes up.His profile picture is a photo of a cat.Inspired by his bravery, I click to send him a message.It will come from my Facebook name “Lottie Gibbs”.But my profile picture is me making a silly face.He’ll get it.He’ll know it’s me.Hi there, I type.And hit send.I’m not sure what I expect to happen.The ground to open up beneath me, or angels to start singing.I stare at the little chat window for a few seconds, when suddenly, the three little dots next to his name start flashing.Does that mean he’s writing back? Why don’t I know how Facebook works?I wait.Staring at the dots.Oh my god, he writes, at last.Oh.My.GOD.It’s you.That makes me smile.I can picture his dumbstruck, pretty face so clearly, it’s like he’s right next to me.Yep.It’s me, I write.Favetrne?What does that mean?Faswtine/FUCK!F.A.C.E.T.I.M.E.?Then he gives me his email.And his cell phone number.I punch the letters in with shaking hands.The screen pops up and hangs for a few seconds, telling me it’s “connecting”.And then, there he is.Chapter Thirteen – Levi“Wow,” is the only word that comes to me.She looks just the way I remember her – dark hair falling into her smudgy eyes, beautiful creamy skin, lovely inviting smile.“You…you are a sight for sore eyes.”She laughs, putting her hand on her cheek.“You, too.You let your hair grow.”I run my fingers through the mop of curls on my head.“Yeah, that’s…laziness mostly.”We smile at each other for a couple of seconds.“How are you anyway?” she says.“How’s your hand?”I flex it in front of the web cam lens.“Good as new.Better, in fact, because I set off metal detectors now.”“Nice.” She brushes her hair off her shoulders and I see that she’s wearing her kimono, the one with the lilies.“You know, I tried to find out about you from the hospital and everything, but they wouldn’t give me any information.”“Really?” I asked about fifty nurses if they’d seen her before Mom finally dragged me onto the medivac flight.None of them would tell me anything.“That’s funny because I called Objections a couple of days later and got pretty much the same answer.”“Oh, yeah.They never give out girls’ names.It makes sense, I guess.I kind of wish they had, though.”“Yeah.Me too.” And then I’m grinning again and probably looking really stupid.I run my hands over my face to try to hide it.“What about you? How have you been?”She looks away from the screen, in the direction of a light shining on her face.“Not that good,” she says before turning back to face me.“My dad died a month ago.”“Oh, no.That’s terrible.I’m so sorry.”She shrugs, looking down.I actually reach for the screen, as though I could touch her, give her a hug.“What happened?” I ask.“I mean if you don’t want to talk about it…”“No.It’s fine.He…someone left his window open at the home and he climbed out at night.We didn’t know where he was for two days.I guess he was on a bender.Then he…” She takes a deep breath.“He got hit by a car.”“Oh, Charlotte.” Anything I say will be insufficient, but I try anyway.“That’s awful.That must have been awful.”She changes position, moving back from her camera, and I see that she is lying on her bed.Her kimono falls open a bit, revealing the top of a lacy bra.How can I avert my eyes when it takes up a quarter of my screen? I focus on looking into the camera lens.“It was pretty awful,” she says.“But one of my regulars at the club is a real ambulance chaser, so he drew up a kind of lawsuit thing against the care home.And they didn’t want any trouble, so they settled.”“Friends in low places, huh?”That makes her laugh.“Right? It didn’t end up being much after he took his cut, but I paid off my car, and my student loan.So, you know, silver lining.”“Are you still working at the club?” I don’t know why I asked that.I guess I figured with her money problems solved, she wouldn’t need to [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]