about the kind of sex you’ve been having and you know it. You need something new. You need to let yourself go and lose the orchestrated type of boss lady, “I pick you, now service me” kind of sex you’ve been having with whatever six-month boy of the moment you’re seeing. It’s getting tiring and old, despite them being young and malleable. And if my calculations are correct, you’re about eight months behind with your latest conquest.”
Mel crossed her arms and stared. “You know you are hella intrusive. Just you wait till I make you my project. You will pay for this half-assed psychoanalysis.”
Lexi gave her back the same challenging stare. “Okay then, bring it. But tell me where am I wrong?”
Mel was silent. She was silent because she didn’t have a comeback. Lexi was right. She had been a grouch. As a matter of fact, she’d been a grouch for a long time. When the professor bailed on her, something in her changed. And it wasn’t as if she was all sunshine and light pre-professor. So yeah, when she left Timber Falls, she was already a little bit hard, but it was as if post-professor a sheet of ice formed over her heart, comfortably cooling the heat that had simmered for way too long, leaving her in a state of constant even coolness. Sadly, she’d grown to like the chill. It was something she could control. It let her know she was in charge of herself and her emotions, not anyone else.
When she was hot and uneven, it was a sure sign she was losing control. A feeling that reminded her of being back home. Of life here in Timber Falls. She felt it the moment they hit the city limits. That slight feeling of uneasiness of not quite knowing where she stood within herself.
She supposed she should be jealous of Lexi getting, and more importantly, wanting to go and visit her parents while she was in town. Lexi’s parents were wonderful. As a kid she’d made herself an uninvited fixture over at Lexi’s. Seeking refuge in the picture-perfect normalcy she didn’t get at her own home.
At her place, Mel and her mom mostly lived an out-of-control existence. Hanging on the edge of fear over what kind of abuse her father would bring home from the bar after he’d wasted money he’d hustled up on Jack Daniels and bullshit talk about the state of the country. Going on about his feelings and emotions. All the while raging about how the world “done did him wrong” somehow. How he loved Mel’s mom so much that it hurt him, so she should therefore feel some of his pain. Sure, he was always sorry the next morning after the damage was done, the house in chaos, Mel’s mother in tears, or worse, fighting to hide a bruise with heavy makeup in order to go to work where everyone would pretend not to see the truth.
Mel was more than happy when her father decided to take his special brand of crazy on the road and followed behind a waitress from the diner out on Highway 81 who he’d been having a very public affair with. No, she never missed him or felt even a hint of sadness over him leaving, unlike her mother, who she’d hear cry herself to sleep at night. But after a while those tears dried up too. And when Mel had finally gotten it together and made it in Manhattan, she’d shown her mother they could be just fine and survive much better without relying on any man. She and her daughter were happy now, so aside from getting in a weekend quickie, she had damn good reasons for not wanting any more than that.
So yeah, Lexi had hit a little too close to home when she brought up Mel’s control issues with men. Mel was sure a therapist would say her mess with the professor was her working out, in the worst way, her daddy issues and the manageable boyfriends were her way of working out home issues yada, yada. She inwardly snorted. No way was she spending money or wasting work time for a diagnosis on something she already knew.
Mel eyed the door joining her and Nolan’s room, and some of the old feelings bubbled in her
Learning to Kill: Stories