Spin Me Round
by
Christine Arroyo
The carpet is dirty and threadbare, and the mirrors are smudged. There’s a 1980’s style boombox in the corner and some hand weights loosely stacked against the wall. The walls sweat the heat as I look around the room, my eyes searching for an escape, even though it’s my own college boyfriend, Ari, who has brought Heather and me down here. Now he’s fumbling with the boombox, trying to put in a CD.
Heather laughs at something Ari says as he pulls her up to dance. Her shirt falls off her shoulder while she pretends to lift weights. She lets her skirt ride up higher as Ari draws a picture of a flower on her thigh with some chewed-up pen he found in his pocket. He turns and kisses me, but I’ve already moved away, pretending to be bored even though my hair is frizzing up in anger. Threesome, threesome, threesome, he says the words over and over again, like whispering a secret incantation to an Ouija board. Ari kisses Heather, his tongue-like hands between legs, pushing her lips open and thrusting inside. His mouth glinting like when he aggressively wiped the make-up off my face telling me I looked like a whore. The sparkle in his eye now as he licks Heather’s ear is just like the sparkle in his eye when he told me I’d be his forever, that no one would ever love me like he did.
I lie down on the ground, my head spinning from the drinks. Kiss, Ari commands, gesturing to me and Heather, but all I hear is, wear this, call me now, give me your phone, what’s this number, you cheating on me? You’re such a stupid slut, no one will ever love you, I’ll kill myself if you leave me. I keep my lips closed, but Heather throws her head back, mouth open wide, eyes closed, mid-fake orgasm, as Ari climbs over me to lie on top of Heather. Heather is laughing until she isn’t until she gasps and quiets, and I know exactly where Ari’s hands are.
I grab the boombox and slam it into the ground. I scream so loud the walls vibrate, ricocheting with plastic pieces and electric wires. Psycho, Ari yells after me, but I’m already at the top of the stairs, already escaping, already someone else.
Heather laughs at something Ari says as he pulls her up to dance. Her shirt falls off her shoulder while she pretends to lift weights. She lets her skirt ride up higher as Ari draws a picture of a flower on her thigh with some chewed-up pen he found in his pocket. He turns and kisses me, but I’ve already moved away, pretending to be bored even though my hair is frizzing up in anger. Threesome, threesome, threesome, he says the words over and over again, like whispering a secret incantation to an Ouija board. Ari kisses Heather, his tongue-like hands between legs, pushing her lips open and thrusting inside. His mouth glinting like when he aggressively wiped the make-up off my face telling me I looked like a whore. The sparkle in his eye now as he licks Heather’s ear is just like the sparkle in his eye when he told me I’d be his forever, that no one would ever love me like he did.
I lie down on the ground, my head spinning from the drinks. Kiss, Ari commands, gesturing to me and Heather, but all I hear is, wear this, call me now, give me your phone, what’s this number, you cheating on me? You’re such a stupid slut, no one will ever love you, I’ll kill myself if you leave me. I keep my lips closed, but Heather throws her head back, mouth open wide, eyes closed, mid-fake orgasm, as Ari climbs over me to lie on top of Heather. Heather is laughing until she isn’t until she gasps and quiets, and I know exactly where Ari’s hands are.
I grab the boombox and slam it into the ground. I scream so loud the walls vibrate, ricocheting with plastic pieces and electric wires. Psycho, Ari yells after me, but I’m already at the top of the stairs, already escaping, already someone else.
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