“So I totally put one together on Powerpoint. It’s all the things we’d do over a few months to help you get over Hunter, conveniently condensed into four and a half minutes. I found this app that turns us into cartoon characters and I set it all to I Knew You Were Trouble by Taylor Swift,” she adds smugly.
“But…but Taylor…” I collapse into random bleating sobs. “Taylor is his ex, Enid. She wrote that fricking song about him!”
“Oh.” She recoils, deflated. “I guess I’ll just switch that around, then. Give me a sec.” She begins to tap away. Then pauses. “Taylor Swift? Seriously?”
“You know he used to be famous.” I lower my voice. “And a manwhore.”
“He’s still a manwhore.”
“Yeah. Not helping.”
“Sorry, sorry.” She holds the iPad up again. “Okay. I changed it to that Britney Spears medley by Cognac Façade. Better?”
I manage a weak smile. “Much.”
Enid hits Play, and we watch through the montage together. There are cartoons of me and Enid going travelling to Europe, Eat Pray Love style; we skydive, we dance at random nightclubs in Amsterdam, we ride camels in the deserts of Arabia. We watch Gone with the Wind on loop for a whole day whilst eating popcorn and drinking whiskey sours. We see musicals on Broadway. We cure cancer and AIDS, and then we get makeovers at Sephora. Wow. Getting over Hunter seems like fun! And yet…
“So now how’re you feeling?” she asks, looking proud of herself.
“I…that was cool.” I try very hard to keep the tears in. “But somehow, I don’t really feel like I’ve moved on.”
“Well yeah. None of that was real, so you just have to pretend you’re over him. Keep pretending until eventually, you are.”
“What if eventually never happens?” I say, panicked. “What if I’m just stuck in a cupboard of heartbreak and desolation forever, with nope of escape?”
“We’ve talked about this, Cammie. Just stop getting into cupboards.”
“Stop being so helpful and supportive!” I snap. “God, Enid. I’m sorry. I just…I feel like I’m falling apart…” And then I collapse in sobs all over again. Sparkles looks up from his plate of eggs and glitter to nudge me with his warm purple muzzle. I give his horn a stroke until I realize it looks like I’m giving him a hand job, and then I carry on because I kind of like that, and it makes my sore foof feel a bit better.
Enid puts down the iPad and exhales heavily. “I do have one more idea. But you’re gonna hate it.”
“What is it?”
“The Feminist Society are having their sex slave auction tonight at the sorority house. There’ll be loads of hot guys there who’ll totally want to bid on an epic slab of virgin like you.” She nudges my foot under the table. “What do you think?”
“You think I should squander my purity on the notorious FemSoc SlaveAuc?” I say, dubious.
“It’s for charity.”
“I suppose that does make it okay.” I cock my head. “But what if Hunter finds out and goes berserk about me being with another guy?”
“Fuck Hunter!” She winces. “You know what I mean.”
I fiddle with my plate. “I’ll think about it. I don’t know. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat…I don’t even want these fries.” I push them toward her. “Want to feed them to Sparkles?”
“You can stop pretending about the unicorn now.” Enid pats me on the hand.
“I’m not pretending. He’s right there.” I nod toward him.
Enid peers sideways and blinks. “You can see that, too?”
“What do you mean? Of course I can see him. He’s mine! Hunter bought him for me.”
Enid takes a huge gulp of her coffee. “No, Cammie, that’s a unicorn . They don’t exist. I’m hallucinating after all the weed I did last night at the frat house, and you’re too grief-stricken to see sense.”
Sparkles von Fancypants gets to his feet with a clop of hooves, grunts at Enid, backs up and proceeds to pee all over her leg. We both just sit there as the
“But…but Taylor…” I collapse into random bleating sobs. “Taylor is his ex, Enid. She wrote that fricking song about him!”
“Oh.” She recoils, deflated. “I guess I’ll just switch that around, then. Give me a sec.” She begins to tap away. Then pauses. “Taylor Swift? Seriously?”
“You know he used to be famous.” I lower my voice. “And a manwhore.”
“He’s still a manwhore.”
“Yeah. Not helping.”
“Sorry, sorry.” She holds the iPad up again. “Okay. I changed it to that Britney Spears medley by Cognac Façade. Better?”
I manage a weak smile. “Much.”
Enid hits Play, and we watch through the montage together. There are cartoons of me and Enid going travelling to Europe, Eat Pray Love style; we skydive, we dance at random nightclubs in Amsterdam, we ride camels in the deserts of Arabia. We watch Gone with the Wind on loop for a whole day whilst eating popcorn and drinking whiskey sours. We see musicals on Broadway. We cure cancer and AIDS, and then we get makeovers at Sephora. Wow. Getting over Hunter seems like fun! And yet…
“So now how’re you feeling?” she asks, looking proud of herself.
“I…that was cool.” I try very hard to keep the tears in. “But somehow, I don’t really feel like I’ve moved on.”
“Well yeah. None of that was real, so you just have to pretend you’re over him. Keep pretending until eventually, you are.”
“What if eventually never happens?” I say, panicked. “What if I’m just stuck in a cupboard of heartbreak and desolation forever, with nope of escape?”
“We’ve talked about this, Cammie. Just stop getting into cupboards.”
“Stop being so helpful and supportive!” I snap. “God, Enid. I’m sorry. I just…I feel like I’m falling apart…” And then I collapse in sobs all over again. Sparkles looks up from his plate of eggs and glitter to nudge me with his warm purple muzzle. I give his horn a stroke until I realize it looks like I’m giving him a hand job, and then I carry on because I kind of like that, and it makes my sore foof feel a bit better.
Enid puts down the iPad and exhales heavily. “I do have one more idea. But you’re gonna hate it.”
“What is it?”
“The Feminist Society are having their sex slave auction tonight at the sorority house. There’ll be loads of hot guys there who’ll totally want to bid on an epic slab of virgin like you.” She nudges my foot under the table. “What do you think?”
“You think I should squander my purity on the notorious FemSoc SlaveAuc?” I say, dubious.
“It’s for charity.”
“I suppose that does make it okay.” I cock my head. “But what if Hunter finds out and goes berserk about me being with another guy?”
“Fuck Hunter!” She winces. “You know what I mean.”
I fiddle with my plate. “I’ll think about it. I don’t know. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat…I don’t even want these fries.” I push them toward her. “Want to feed them to Sparkles?”
“You can stop pretending about the unicorn now.” Enid pats me on the hand.
“I’m not pretending. He’s right there.” I nod toward him.
Enid peers sideways and blinks. “You can see that, too?”
“What do you mean? Of course I can see him. He’s mine! Hunter bought him for me.”
Enid takes a huge gulp of her coffee. “No, Cammie, that’s a unicorn . They don’t exist. I’m hallucinating after all the weed I did last night at the frat house, and you’re too grief-stricken to see sense.”
Sparkles von Fancypants gets to his feet with a clop of hooves, grunts at Enid, backs up and proceeds to pee all over her leg. We both just sit there as the
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