VIDA

At six, the sun isn't doing much that could be called rising. Jennifer's head feels huge and soft. She reaches up to touch one of her eyebrows, the unpierced one, scratching it gently as if she fears skin and bone will dimple like foam rubber. Being here, in bed with Kyle, wasn't part of the deal. Or maybe it was.

"Jerk," she says. The word floats above the both of them. Kyle lay on his back next to her, still crashed out, breathing his own morningsour air.

Leo. Leo was the definition of jerk. NO other reason Kyle had the balls to bring her back here. Leo must have said....whatever Leo would say. He was pretty casual with the truth. He could have said anything. After eleven on most nights Jennifer was never sure who said what. She could always sing though, no matter how late.

She puts a hand over her heart, mostly to see what it is doing. The tank top she wears has stretched down so her left breast is out, pointing toward Kyle. She touches her nipple but she can’t feel it. Her hand must be asleep.

Some crumbs or gravel in the dank sheets annoy her enough to get up. She finds her panties at the end of the mattress on the floor, under Tooey, Kyle's one-eyed cat.

"I need your dander in my butt, cat. Then everything will have a perfect symmetry, right? Right."

In the crusty kitchen she finds a box of instant oatmeal, and a couple of stale tea bags in an old mayonnaise jar. A jar of mustard. A couple of beers. No milk.

By the time Kyle leans in the doorway, watching her with that idiot grin of his, she'd poured the beer over the microwaved oatmeal.

"Good start, kid. You're settling in real good. I got a couple of techs packing your stuff. Should be here soon.”

Jennifer looks up through a lank curtain of hair. She sucks on a hank of it that hangs over her mouth.

"Leo said you might put up a fight. You didn't."

"That's what Leo said?"

"Yeah, that's what Leo said."

Jennifer shrugs. "So I live here now."

"Yeah."

"Why is your place so crappy?"

"Because I'm not Leo. Oh. As far as the demo goes? Leo says, in one week. Video and all."

Oh that. She'd fucking given Leo that song as a present just for letting her hang around at first. Before he even knew she could sing. Before he knew what she wanted. The music. Just the music. Slowly, she pulls up an end of the long undershirt and uses it as a napkin on her chin.

"Only it's not a demo. It's the real thing. Duet with him. Release party next month."

Jennifer raises her shoulders again. "Fine. Whatever."

"So there's no going back. You know?"

"I know."

"He moved Maggie in with him last night."

"I figured."

"Have you ever heard her sing?"

Jen laughed. "She rots."

"Yeah. Much easier on Leo, that way. Besides which, she cooks."

Jennifer stares up at him.

"And, " he says, coming over to touch her on the shoulder, "and...we need a new name for you. Leo says Jennifer sucks."

"Yeah?" She looks out the streaky window. "It does, doesn't it."

Kyle's hand oozes down and cups that left breast. She still couldn't feel it.

"I'm thinking some V name. Like Veronique. Valerian."

She pushes his hand away and presses her own in the vacated spot.

"This is my break, huh."

"Yeah."

"Then I don't care." She couldn't feel the stone of her heart under the hand. So maybe that is a good thing. Maybe that is part of the whole deal.

She stretches back, flailing her skinny arms, tossing out a lager scented yawn. "Vida. One name."

"Vida."

"Yep." One name is good. Like Madonna. Or like the Afghanis."

"I'll tell him."

"You do that," said Vida and brushes past him on her way to the shower.

####

Beverly Carol Lucey has published short fiction in Portland Maine Magazine, Flint River Review 1999 (GA), Moxie Winter edition 2000 (CA) Four stories are anthologized in We Teach Them All (Stenhouse Press, Maine). Another is in the Quality Women’s Fiction, 2001 (UK). Four non-fiction pieces will appear in upcoming editions of the inspirational Chocolate for Women series.

Extensive presence online include ezines: Zoetrope All Story Extra, Vestal Review, CollectedStories.com, and Millennium Shift.

The author, a life long educator, lives in Georgia, and is a member of the Georgia Writers Association.

Visit her websites:
THE LANGUAGE WRANGLER on education.

POODLE PRESS - for animal lovers.

A WOMAN OF A CERTAIN AGE for humor and fun.

ETHICAL OASIS for everyday ethics.

GO TO NEXT PAGE