My Evil Eye, page 5
But then, just when I’m content, everything falls apart. He waves at a group of four people to come over. If I had known there’d be company, I would have said no. I can handle a stray glance from Ash, but five! No way. That’s problem one. Problem number two is I’m on my way to finishing my third beer and getting buzzed. I’m a lightweight when it comes to drinking and, as routine as it’s become, acting out my alter ego things get muddled when I drink.
“Guys this is Gorgiana. Gorgiana, this is Keith, Ravi, and Ted. And over there is Sandra.”
Sandra comes right over to me, all smiley. She touches my thick brown sweater and looks deep into my eyes. That’s okay because my Fugu doesn’t affect women—unless she’s gay or she stares for a very long time. Sandra isn’t gay. She looks right into my golden gems. Then she gazes down disapprovingly at my furry sweater and old grandma pants. She has long brown hair with blond highlights, a super cute tight red dress, and long earrings. Her face is totally made up with mascara and blush—the whole nine yards. She’s got a big grin, probably because she looks pretty and I don’t. The other boys are completely oblivious to me, already talking to each other about school and sports.
“Sandra,” she says, reaching out. I shake her hand and gaze at the floor.
“Gorgiana,” I mutter.
“Georgina?” she asks.
“No, Gorg-iana. Like—”
“Gorgeous,” Ash says, smiling sweetly at me and handing Sandra a beer. “Like gorgeous, Sandra.”
“What an unusual name. Is it Russian?”
I shake my head. “Greek.”
“I’ve never heard it before. What a fascinating name.”
I just nod.
Ash hands me another beer. That’d make four. I lift a hand to object, but it’s too late.
“Are you in one of Ash’s classes?”
I shake my head.
“What unusual eyes you have,” Sandra says, leaning down to get a better look. “They’re so pretty, like pure gold.”
Got that right.
And that’s it. She turns to her friends and ignores me. Well, it’s taken her about thirty seconds to write me off as a freak. That’s predictable. I suppose the oddest thing is Ash. He smiles at me even though his friends obviously don’t like me. The other guys didn’t even bother saying hi.
Ash stops talking to one of them midsentence and leans close to my ear, “You doing okay, Gorgi?”
I nod. I lean back and whisper, “You didn’t tell me your friends would be here.”
He furrows his brow for a moment. Drinks from his bottle, then says, “I hope it’s okay. I wanted us all to have fun tonight.”
Oh, of course. Sure… No, it’s not okay! No, it isn’t!
I look at the bottles neatly stacked along a mirrored wall behind the bar across the room. They look blurry. I feel like I’m leaning over the table because I’m ready to tip over.
“I see you have a white blouse under your sweater,” Sandra says to me. I’m surprised she’s talking to me again. “It’s hot outside. Have you lived here in Florida for long?”
“Yes.” Twenty-five years.
“Well, it gets hot even inside, doesn’t it? Maybe you should take your sweater off.”
Why you fucking bitch. But I say sweetly, “Yes, perhaps you’re right.” I turn from her scrutiny and leave my sweater on.
“Where’d you meet Ash?” Sandra asks. Boy, she’s real persistent, isn’t she?
“The library.”
Sandra laughs. Then she quickly covers her mouth.
“It’s her job, Sandra,” says Ash, frowning at her.
“You’re not a student at Sunland?” Sandra asks. “I’m surprised. You look about our age. Are you going to a community college?”
“No. I’m working at the library.”
And the bitch slowly nods.
I turn to the stage across the room for a break from her scrutiny. Nobody ever pays attention to me like this. It’s weird.
Up on stage, one guy is working with wires by an amplifier on the floor, and a girl is setting up a microphone near a stool. Another two guys are setting up a monitor close to the stage. I’m thinking someone’s gonna do improv or something. Last time I was here, three years ago, two girls sang and played acoustic guitars.
“Why do you like the library?”
Really? The girl’s still interrogating me?
“I like books.”
She laughs again. Something funny? As Sandra puts up a hand, making me think she’s ready to apologize to me, we hear someone tap on the microphone. Everybody in the bar turns. Walking onto the stage is a lady in a red and yellow swimsuit cover-up, a bathing suit underneath. A guy hands her the microphone and she sits down on a stool. “‘Billie Jean,’ Michael Jackson,” she says. Then she bursts into laughter. That’s accompanied by the whole bar cheering and going nuts. After hearing her slurred voice, it’s quite clear she’s been drinking.
“Well, Ash likes reading too,” Sandra says, sitting next to me, amid the ruckus. “He’s always been a good student. A bit of a nerd.”
Ash rolls his eyes and drinks from his beer bottle. Then one of his other friends distracts him before he can say something to me.
I just nod to Sandra. Sandra laughs again and, fortunately for my temper and my eyes, she turns her back on me and looks back at the stage, because the music’s starting.
The drunken lady up there sings her words in a jumbled, intoxicated mess. And everyone loves it. Some of the people by the stage are jumping up and down, dancing as if it’s a concert.
Pretty soon we’re all laughing. Even me. I might be laughing a bit too hard, because Sandra looks over with her brow furrowed. But it’s funny as hell.
Tone it down, Gorge. You might be having too good a time.
Well, you know what? Screw it. Bottoms up.
Ash looks over at me and smirks. I mean, what can I say? The sloshed girl is funny as shit swaying on stage. Now she’s attempting to dance. Look at that! She nearly falls into the crowd.
I swig down the rest of my beer and raise the next bottle to Ash. He raises his bottle back. I think he’s happy to see my smile.
But I’m not happy, really. I’m getting worried. I… I feel too good, you know? It’s like gonna make me me, but not really me. Do you understand?
Fuck, I don’t really care if you do right now, to be honest.
The song ends. I sit there clapping, but I’m not talking to anybody. I’m a little miffed with Ash, to be honest. I wanted to enjoy the night with him alone.
Ash hands me another beer. I didn’t realize I’d finished mine. Wait, that would be…five?
Sandra walks around the table to Ash and says something close to his ear with a big grimace while glancing back at me. I’d hear it if it weren’t for everyone shouting. Does she like him? I mean, she’s cute.
I take my sweater off because it is a little warm (not because Sandra suggested it). I’m wearing just my white silk button-down. It’s really formal. But the bitch is right, it’s hot tonight. It’s like eighty degrees even in this open bar.
“Why doesn’t Gorgiana sing?” suggests Sandra, followed by a guffaw. A few of Ash’s friends laugh too, finally noticing I exist. Ash doesn’t. He loses his smile.
Sandra runs her hand along Ash’s back. I don’t like that. Then she laughs again and says something else into his ear while looking over at me. I really don’t like her. No, I really don’t.
So I look straight into her eyes and say, “Okay.”
I’m completely fucked up, you know. I don’t drink often. I think this is…the fourth? There’s a reason for sobriety which, if things continue to go the way I didn’t want them to, you’ll be reminded of soon enough.
“What would you like me to sing?” I ask with a laugh.
“Hey, over here!” Sandra raises her hand. “We’ve got another one!”
“No, Sandra,” says Asher, pulling her hand down. “Stop it. Leave her alone.”
Sandra looks at me. “But she wants to, Ash. Come on. This is gonna be so much fun.”
Ash looks at me, serious as hell. “You really want to, Gorgi?”
I laugh and nod. Ash shrugs.
I’m on stage. I don’t know how I got here. I remember maneuvering around a bunch of bodies that kind of swirled by. I fumble my way onto a stool and almost keel over. That sends the room roaring with laughter again. Then I tap on a mic. “Justin Bieber, ‘Anyone,’” I say. And I remove my thick glasses.
Everyone in the bar stops talking. No more laughter. All the eyes in the room become focused on me. And it’s a bit weird. I’m serious as hell too. Of course the song is by a male, but hey, so was “Billie Jean.” And I love this song. It’s my favorite song in the whole world.
The music plays, so I sing.
As I sing, I’ll… I’ll try to pay attention to you. I have to read my lines on the screen. I mean, I know them by heart, but I still have to read a few of them, because I’m fucked up. I almost feel like my voice is coming from someone else. Let me share with you a little secret: I’m a really, really good singer. Too good. Even drunk. My eyes help, of course.
Asher’s watching. Look at him. He’s moved far from Sandra and folded his arms, and he’s fixated on me. Sandra’s staring too, looking shocked. Everyone’s staring. Boys and girls. All these kids are staring at Grandma singing. They’re not just hypnotized by my eyes—they’re mesmerized by me.
The music gets a bit heavier, and everyone in the bar stands up and starts jumping up and down like crazy. It’s as if I’m in a concert. I stand too. My voice has range and everyone loves it. Not to mention my eyes. But my gaze isn’t focused on anyone except Ash—not directly at his eyes of course. I’m focused solely on my date. My night is for him because this is our evening; so is this song. But it’s not just the magic of my eyes. I think, maybe, you know, I think, maybe I could like him?
He’s cute. Let me win him over for you.
Well, right now, they like your voice, Medusa. Or maybe it’s your eyes because I’m standing on stage with my head held high. Yeah, Medusa’s in full bloom for these kids, and they’re loving it. It’s your time to be in the spotlight. A moment of fame. Show the kids how it’s done. Take a taste of bittersweet happiness. It’ll all soon be over. Yeah. Do it. Sing it for the kids. Sing it for Asher.
But then the music stops. There’s applause. And I… I feel sad. Sadder than I have in years. Tears stream down my face. No one cares. They’re all cheering like crazy.
I drop the mic on the stage and run. I nearly trip down the steps into the crowd. I maneuver around a ton of bodies, who pat my shoulder and back. Some are stupidly congratulating me as I rush outside. It feels stuffy. I have to get out. And whereas before the buzz was fun, now the alcohol hinders me and makes me bump into tables, chairs, and people as I try to push my way out. I just want to leave. I don’t want this. I want to go home.
I don’t head back to Ash’s table. I’m leaving.
I’m outside. The place is so popular that there’s a long line toward the entrance now. And it’s still warm, even though it’s nearly midnight. I’m running back home holding only my small purse.
“Gorgiana!” cries a voice. “Gorgiana!”
I cock my head back. It’s fucking Ash.
Leave me alone!
“Go away,” I say, wiping my eyes.
“Wait. Where are you going?”
“Just get away from me.”
“Gorgiana,” he says, trailing me. We’re in a parking lot beside an alleyway, away from the lights of the club. It’s dark enough that my eyes pose no danger, so I spin around and face him.
“What!”
“Where are you going?” Ash asks with a laugh. “That was amazing.”
I shake my head and look down. This time it’s not because he can see me; it’s too dark. I just don’t want to look at him. “Yeah, I can sing. So what?”
“Sing? I’ve never heard anyone perform like that in my life.”
“So?” I ask, challenging him and looking into his eyes. “So what?”
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
And I’m running again.
“Wait.” He grabs my arm and I yank it back. No man touches me! No one! Ever! Not even a nice guy like Ash. I cover my eyes and struggle to stop them from shining green. I try to control my rage. “Let Sandra at least drive you home. We’re five miles from your house.”
“I can walk!”
“Gorgi,” he says with a laugh. Then he puts his head in his hands. “I’m so messed up. Listen, Gorgi, I’ve never met anyone like you.”
“No, you haven’t,” I reply with my back turned to him.
Then I’m moving again, now walking, and he’s still stupidly following. He glimpsed my eyes of course; caught the glare of Fugu. Well, I’m a good enough singer even without my cursed eyes. But now my date had a taste of Fugu too. That’s why he won’t leave me alone. “I advise you to stay the fuck away from me, Asher.”
“What? Why?”
He catches up to me and hands me my sweater. I left it at our table. I snatch it from him.
“Is your whole librarian thing an act?” he asks. “You weren’t shy at all up there on stage.”
“Oh, do you like shy girls?” I ask, finally stopping in the dark alley. Okay, he wants to not respect my distance, I’m ready to be a bitch.
Remember, I’m drunk. Okay? Deal with it.
“What? What do you mean?” He nervously laughs. He shakes his head and looks serious again. “Gorgi, we came to have fun. I… I like being with you.”
“You don’t like being with me. You like that librarian. Shy, quiet Gorgiana. And, anyway, inside it seemed you like Sandra a whole lot more.”
He furrows his brow. Then he shakes his head. “Sandra’s my sister.”
Oh… Oops.
“I like you, Gorgiana.”
I search his face in the darkness.
I think I like you too, Ash.
I grab him. He freezes in reaction to my sudden move. He’s probably shocked by my strength. I embrace him while plopping my lips onto his. Hard. I stroke the back of his hair, touch that little blond wave I adore, and then run my hand down his back. I’ve been wanting to do this since I met him. I press him real close. And I keep kissing his lips. Then I enter his mouth and dance with his tongue. He hardly objects.
I’m, like, totally making out with him. He doesn’t move, but my eyes haven’t hypnotized him. No, now he’s hypnotized by my body.
I could make love to him. Should I? Even after running out on him?
I walk him backward until he runs right up against the brick wall separating us from the dark alley.
“God,” he says, panting. “Who? What are you?”
“I’m the devil.”
I grab his hand, pull up my shirt, and help his fingers probe under my blouse, while my tongue continues dancing with his. My tongue turns a little pointy, but it’s not fully forked yet. My hair is moving too, but I haven’t let the bun out. I just want to taste him. I want to enjoy him. I deserve that, don’t I? For all my misery? Don’t we deserve a moment of pleasure?
Pleasure him.
His hand runs over my silk bra. I always wear sexy lingerie, you know. The students can’t see it. I think it’s a way to rebel against my mundane library uniform. I help him slip his fingers inside the lace. I feel him touching the curves of my boobs. He runs a finger along my hard nipple. I’m really excited. I mean…he said he likes me, right?
Should I fuck him? He’s certainly attractive enough. And I’m getting excited enough.
Yes. Fuck him. You deserve the pleasure.
“Why?” he asks between kisses. “Why did you pick that song?”
“What song?” I ask with a giggle between kisses. “Just shush and kiss me.”
He’s pinned against the brick wall. My hand runs down his pants and over the bulge of his cock. He squirms, but he can’t back up. There’s a brick wall behind him, after all.
I can hear the people in line around the corner. But with my hearing, particularly piqued now that I’m making out with Ash, I’d know if a stranger were approaching. We’re alone.
“The song you sang?” he asks. “Why did you choose that song?”
I’m under his belt and inside his pants. I think it hurts his skin a little at first, I pressed so hard to get access. And my fingernails are getting sharp and might have chafed his skin. But I didn’t want to unzip him. The zipper can break the spell. It’s happened before.
As I touch his cock and give him some pleasure, my eyes shine green over his whole body.
“God, Gorgi,” he groans. He hardly cares about green light at the moment. And we’re back to making out. And he’s back to touching my tits. “Why’d you pick that song? Huh?”
“I love that song,” I whisper, rubbing his cock up and down. “I always liked it. Just like I like this. Now stop talking and kiss me.”
“I liked it too. Mainly when you sang it. It was as if…” He’s trying to speak, but I’m tasting him again. “Gorge, it was as if you were singing it for me.”
No… I mean yes, I was. I mean, was I? I was singing it for him, wasn’t I? But no, I can’t. Because it will never be. So who cares?
It was as if you were singing it for me.
Shit. Ash will never be someone I can love eternally. Because I’m cursed to live a wretched life on this earth forever alone.
I should never have met him. Meeting men never ends well with me. I should have declined the date. I’m a complete idiot.
My fangs recede. My tongue thickens. My hair simmers down. My heat leaves my body. And my body shakes in the darkness.
He’s quiet. I think it’s because I stopped moving. His lips lightly touch mine, but we’re not kissing anymore.
I lose complete control. I step back and wrap my arms around myself, crying. You already know I’m a total nutjob. Are you surprised? I’m…shit…
