The Last of the Preview Chapters of “Lie”: “Crushed Petals” (NSFW)

“Lie” is available for only $1.99 wherever eBooks are sold. Here are chapters one, two, and three. A taste, if you will. Thanks for reading.

The goils unpack their healthier foods in the kitchen. Fantine sneaks the odd bit of candy in her baggy pockets as she arranges things onto the shelves. As for the rest of the empty calories, Idette bags them and tucks into a corner. All the while, Veronique and Quinevere glare at her from the counter for her mischief. Idette says, “Hey, at least you didn’t get to the used dildos.”
She takes a snapshot of everyone in the kitchen, but she didn’t take into account of the flash being magnified due to all the linoleum. Carrying on as if nothing happened, “Ha! I heard an absolutely mental tale one night at a pub.”
Veronique raises an eyebrow as she takes out a box of crackers.
Idette continues, “Some old biddy brought hers to a sex shop. She HAD to have used it for years because when she took it there for an exchange— Fantine, you can’t exchange used dildos.” The younger Karoly turns a Fantine sort of red while Quinevere gives an annoyed sigh.
“The biddy tried, though. Went to the counter, took it out of a bag, and dropped it onto the tabletop. Veronique.” Veronique looks up as she gathers empty bags. “I’m sure you’ve had a phallus: have you ever used it to the point of flaking?” The elder Karoly blurts out a laugh and shakes her head. “Because she did. It hit the counter and flakes flew everywhere.”
Veronique goes blank-face, “…what?”
Nodding, the ginger continues, “I don’t think she cleaned it in the years she’s had it so the smell must’ve been TERRIBLE. Oh, Fantine—-”
She taps the shelf girl on her butt.
“—-don’t get self-conscious about your lady fumes.”
Fantine almost drops a jar.
Idette comforts… in an Idette sort of way, “All of us have it and guys don’t mind it nearly as much as you do.”
Veronique agrees, then warns, “I have heard of women who smell of ground beef, but that’s mayhaps due to their not washing their panty hamsters.”
Quinevere puts the all the empty bags under the sink as Idette chimes in, “So wash yours. I guess that’d be a thong gerbil for you right now…”

The younger Karoly stops liberating candy and wishes her heart would explode. Veronique unwraps a champagne bottle, one of many spirits she picked up, and asks, “What does she mean, love?”
“Oh, I tricked her into wearing one of my thongs.”
“Really now?”
Quinevere tries being respectful, “You both will give her ulcers…” The perpetually embarrassed one sits at the farthest corner of the counter hoping that they’ll forget her and her butterfly clips. Her aunt asks, “Do we have to take a trip to a certain store soon?”
“You’ll have to buy entire place! She was only supposed to wear it for a few seconds.” Quinevere tries to cure Fantine’s ginger ail with a shoulder rub as Idette keeps on, “That was almost 90 minutes ago.”
Veronique becomes stumped by the cork but manages to look at her niece with a smile, “Aw, you’re finally growing up. Because you’re trying new things, not because of your choice of negligee.” To Idette, “I don’t mind thongs but I much prefer hipsters. I’ll probably be cremated with a pair.”
“I KNOW! They’re so snug!”, Idette says as she wags her rear.
Veronique, giving up on spirits for the time being, “I tried a pair initially a few years ago and have since sworn allegiance to them.”
Idette inquires, “You have a pair on now?”
Veronique tries remembering, can’t, then looks at her niece. She’s too focused on not being focused on to notice anything, so her aunt unzips her pants. She shows off her black-with-purple-pinstripes hipsters, and a long scar.
“Oh, those are sex. How much were they?”
Veronique zips up and replies, “A few pounds. They came in a five-pack. My favorite current pair came from that: a prison-striped number with a pink bow.”
The ginger scoffs, “You love your stripes, don’t you?” She quickly shows off her checkerboard hipsters, then asks, “Quinnie, are you a thong or hipster chick?”
Quinevere pats Fantine’s back and walks to the closets through the theatre. “It won’t matter soon.”
Idette follows as the two Karolys finish kitchen duties.

“What do you mean?” The sole Ainsworth gets to a closet, takes out a hanger for her coat, and unbuttons it. The ginger plants herself at the opposite wall and says, “I never saw you as one for going commando.”
Quinevere puts away her coat, takes a deep breath, and faces her friend.
Wearing a dark gray pinafore with a black turtleneck… and a small bump in her belly.
Her friend stands aghast. “…what’s that?”
Quinevere’s arms hang vulnerably at her sides, “What’s it look like, Idette?”
“Is that real?” She lifts her dress, exposing her young pregnancy above black hipsters, then lets it drop.
“When did that happen?”
Quinevere walks to the chandelier, “Shortly after the last time we were together,” and moves a hand over a bulb.
“Who’s the father?”
She lets the hand hover a bit before replying, “I don’t know…”
Idette practically leaps from the wall, “Quinnie, you were supposed to be smarter than me.”
Quinevere’s eyes dart to her friend with hurt and rage, “You think I wanted this?! I didn’t even have sex!”
Idette freezes, “…what?”
“I was at a party and I met a guy and we… we went to a room and… and…”
Idette’s hands clench into fists, “Did he rape you?”
Quinevere stares at her, then walks to the other side of the chandelier, “Thanks for thinking I’m so weak.” She takes a deep breath and continues, “We got in our underwear and I straddled him like I’ve done for years. We orgasmed a few times over fabric— How was I supposed to know that he could… get through?”

“Quinnie,” Idette’s voice is tinged with a cold anger, “find out who he is.”
Quinevere stares into the lights, “It’s not his problem.”
That was the last straw for her friend. “He got you pregnant, Quinevere. He has to take care of the both of you now.”
Quinevere tries to keep her composure, but her cracking voice gives her away, “I’m not ever sure I want it, Idette. I’m not supposed to be a mum. I hate my father for doing this to me.”
“…doing what?”
Quinevere sighs deeply, then her eyes cut to the floor, “I have… tiny bumps on my… They’re completely harmless and not contagious, but they’re genetic and I got them from him. I can’t get that out as a guy’s about to go down on me or have sex with me. And I’m awkward enough without having to explain that at the top of conversation.”
Annoyed, her friend says, “How could you fuck up your life like this?”

“Umm… are things ok up here,” Veronique asks as she steps out from behind the curtain with her niece in tow. “Fantine and I are done with the kitchen.”
From the other side of the chandelier, “Things are fantastic, apart from the soon-to-be over there.”
Veronique looks at a Quinevere on the seam of togetherness and approaches her, “Oh, congrats! Do you know if it’s a boy or—”
Idette stomps from behind the lights, “Don’t fucking congratulate her irresponsibility.”
“I wasn’t being irresponsible, Idette. I don’t even know if I’ll keep it.”
The elder Karoly looks surprised, “You won’t? I think you can afford one, with the excesses of your father and all.”
Quinevere backs away from the chandelier, toward her CDs and Fantine, “It’s not that. I didn’t ever think I’d get pregnant. I never wanted it and it’s terrifying that I have a skeleton growing inside me.”
Veronique places a hand on her back, “If you don’t feel that you’re ready, maybe you should have an abortion. Or maybe give it up for adoption. Having an unwanted child is infinitely worse than not having one at all.”
Quinevere looks at Veronique with glassy eyes and whimpers, “I’m afraid.”
Her friend says, “Oh, too afraid of being a mum and too afraid to do something about it. Very typical, Quinnie.”
Quinevere pushes the comforting hand away and walks toward Idette, “Typical?  Typical?! You invite people to a place that doesn’t belong to either of us and have the arrogance to demean me?”
Veronique takes Fantine’s tear-stained hand and leave the oncoming perfect storm.

“I told you on the phone they were coming, Quinevere.”
The light they share is almost as bright at the rage burning between them.
“You told me: told me. You told me that you were bringing people to something that was supposed to be you and I.”
Idette walks away to the other side of the capodimonte, “Damnit, I thought it’d be fun to have more people! You like them! If this was such a problem, why didn’t you tell them to go home?! I could’ve came back in my car and you could’ve showed me your shame without having to involve anyone!”
“Why are you so cruel about this?”
Idette grabs the branches and says, almost as if she’s admitting it to herself, “I was supposed to be in your position someday. I was supposed to be the one who got knocked up or whatever. You were supposed to get married and have a kid, and we were supposed to be mums together.”
“That’s a bit difficult with my history, isn’t it?”
Her friend walks back to her, “Quinevere…”
“No, you wanna talk about the ideal: let’s fucking talk about the ideal. I dreamt of the perfect life for me. But men never wanted that from me. Or even dates. To be told that I’d make a man truly happy someday by everyone and for that to never have come to pass all my life… of all the failures I’ve had… it’s to the point where I only approach men because I know I’ll fail, and that’s more comforting to me than a second date.”

“Quinevere… I know that I sound like a scratched vinyl, but you will find someone. I’ll help you, if a relationship means that much to you.”
Emotionlessly, “Fuck you, Idette.”
“…what?”
“How dare you say that to me after what you’ve done.”
Genuinely confused, her friend asks, “What did I do?”
“You told me that a new teacher started working at your school and that—”
“Quinnie…”
“No. You started chatting him up and found that you two like the same things, which meant that he and I would. Then you remembered that workplace romances were frowned upon and said that he would be great for me. Then you managed to convince me after that bloody miserable night at the club to give love another chance. Then I found out shortly after that you were going out on dates with him. One of which I was asked by you to go with you on.”
“Quinnie, he ended up not being the right bloke for you.”
Quinevere’s voice cracks again but her eyes still don’t betray her, “Why couldn’t I make that choice for myself?! Why do I need Idette Fucking Rudelle to choose my life for me?!” Idette’s never seen her like this. She can’t look at her, the monstrosity of rage too ugly and painful.
“I’m sorry.”
“’Sorry’? Do you even remember what happened the last time we were together?”
Idette innocently says, “We went to that small comic convention.”
“That Friday morning, we bumped into two men who were into us and I pointed out who I was interested in. Come that night, I find you two snuggled in our hotel room. The next night, I find you two dancing at a party we were supposed to go to. I couldn’t face you in our room so I stayed in the lobby all night with a book. Sunday morning, you didn’t know I was gone. So tell me: why should I believe you when you say you’ll help me?”
“I didn’t think you were serious about him…”
Quinevere is suddenly disgusted and walks to the nearest wall. “You didn’t think I was serious?”
“Well… no. And I’m really sorry. But he ended up being an arse. You were luc—”

“STOP FUCKING MAKING MY DECISIONS FOR ME, YOU FUCKING CUNT!!”

You could hear Edithshire through the silence.
Quinevere asks, “Why can’t you treat me like a human being?!”
Idette tries walking toward her, “I…”
Quinevere turns her back on her friend, then takes a calming breath. “You’ve been to so many places I haven’t, been with so many people… don’t you understand how hard it is to be me? It’s so hard for me to talk to a man and when I do, it’s always the worst situation for me. And now I’m in the absolute worst situation and I’m scared, Idette.”
She turns to her friend, “I’m so frightened. I have something growing inside me and I don’t know what to do with it. And I want you to help me through… whatever I end up doing. You’re my best friend. I need you.”
Idette wants to reach out to her Quinnie but she can only feel a wall. “But you don’t need me as much as you believe. I’ve had to travel to so many places and fuck so many people to become who you perceive to be a decent person. You’ve become such a beautiful light in my life without having to leave your room.”
“If I’m so great, why have I always been alone?”

Quinevere goes upstairs to her room and buries herself in her bed. She hears faint footsteps from the stairway. At first, they approach her door, then back away. She can hear them enter Fantine’s room, then Veronique’s, then the bathroom, then finally Idette’s. They stop at the connecting door for what seems like hours. The door finally opens and Idette steps inside. She climbs into bed with Quinevere and holds her in her arms. Quinevere begins to cry, but Idette brushes her fingers down her face. An old agreement between them.
Friends until the end.

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3 Responses to “The Last of the Preview Chapters of “Lie”: “Crushed Petals” (NSFW)”

  1. […] are chapters one, three, and four. Thanks for […]

  2. […] Wanna Do Something That Matters « Well Thought Out Scribbles The Last of the Preview Chapters of “Lie”: “Crushed Petals” (NSFW) […]

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