(no subject)
Cassandra is a magnet for disaster. Mariann sleeps with the light on, she's terrified of what is in the dark, but she leaves the front door unlocked. Jodie, she never brushes her hair but she is the one who comes home late at night with different men, and if she's drunk enough, even women.
They met in their Women's Studies class back in junior year at Radcliffe, Jodie suggested to Cass that they have a study group, and they invited Mariann out of sympathy: her dark eyes and hair never garnered any attention, even from the professors. So she came, and they kept her because she always brought snacks (whole grain muffins, and sometimes home made potato chips). Afterward they'd sit on the lawn in front of their dorm and pass around a joint, Jodie would laugh for hours.
It was Cass's idea to get the apartment. A little three bedroom a mile away from Radcliffe. Only Mariann hadn't dropped out yet, but Cass and Jodie were both working full-time at the department store. Cass sold shoes, and Jodie crunched numbers and answered the telephone. Mariann's parents sent her money once a week, enough to eat and pay rent, sometimes a little extra so she could see a movie or something, but she usually just used it to buy something to smoke, to calm her nerves, she was always so on edge.
Cass was the one who got her the Xanax. She bought it off Derek, a guy she met at a bar a few weeks before. He had been to the house a few times, fucked Cass so hard he thought his dick would fall off (he even told her this when he was done, she just laughed). He'd said hey to Mariann and Jodie a few times, had his eye on that dark little girl in the other room, but he knew if he ever wanted to fuck Cass again, he'd stay away from those girls. Jodie had sucked him off in a movie theater once, but they never exchanged names, he doubted she remembered him: she was one of those girls who got around. The guys all knew Radcliffe was the place to go to get women who were desperate enough to fuck for free, anyone who has a cock was going to get something, someone. Anyone who had a cock and a barb was going to get a lot more than he bargained for.
And that's why Cass kept calling Derek. He came through everytime, fucked her raw, then gave her a handful of barbs (always told her not to pull a Marilyn, he'd read that somewhere), and told her to call him. She kept calling. He kept coming. He still wanted that dark little thing in the other room.
Weeks later, with Cass passed out next to him, he walked to the bathroom naked. Mariann was sitting on the toilet, her hand between her legs, feverishly petting herself beneath the mound of dark pubic hair. "Shit, sorry," Derek muttered, closing the door.
"It's okay," Mariann whispered, standing. "You can use the bathroom, I'm sorry." She sheepishly maneuvered past Derek, leaving behind the smell of gardenia.
"Would you tell?" he asked after her. She stared at him, confused.
"You can use the toilet...it's fine."
"Would you tell if we fucked?"
"I...we don't...I mean, I don't..."
"Just once."
Mariann packed her things on a Wednesday: a suitcase of old clothes, a dime sack, and a handful of barbs.