Page 26 of Best Woman
“We could easily cause a distraction and get you out of here,” says the other. “I’m pretty sure a small-scale explosion would do it.”
“Aw, you’d commit arson for me?” I joke, even though it doesn’t feel very funny. I’m touched.
“It’s so stupid how people are here about stuff like that,” says a twin.
“Property damage?”
“No, the whole trans thing. Like, who even cares. It’s not like you were ever really a boy.”
“Right,” chimes in the other. “You were just pretending.”
“You were always Julia,” says Brian, and for some reason, I can finally tell that it’s him. One of his eyebrows arches a little higher than Brody’s. And Brody’s freckles are a little more dense around his nose. I know them, in some deep, intrinsic way. And they know me too.
“Fuck it,” I say, pouring them each a glass of beer. “Don’t tell Mom.”
Leaving Brody and Brian to get tipsy and wreak havoc, I leave the table in search of my other brother. I hear shouting in the distance and know immediately where I’ll find him.
Steps away from the giant glass display case full of prizes, Aiden is locked in a heated air hockey battle.
There are two empty pitchers of beer next to him and the rest of the groomsmen are cheering him on as he whacks his puck in the direction of his opponent: a tween girl in overalls who grins cruelly at my brother through a mouth full of braces.
I check the electronic scoreboard over their heads and confirm my suspicion that she’s winning.
“You know what rhymes with puck?” she shouts at my brother, her hand a blur as she defends her goal. “Suck. Which is what you do at this game.”
Not quite a devastating read, but when you’re getting your ass kicked at an arcade game by a pimply teenager, it probably cuts deep.
Across the table my brother’s face twists into a grimace.
His usually perfectly polished exterior is gone: hair a mess, red-faced, and sweating.
He’s always been competitive, and alcohol only exacerbates the problem.
It doesn’t help that the groomsmen are egging him on.
“You can take her, man,” Derek yells, punching Aiden’s shoulder.
“Victory is yours,” shouts Martin, a friend from Aiden’s job.
He was very buttoned-up when we arrived, but now he looks positively prehistoric.
The energy feels distinctly locker-room, and I’d feel bad for the girl if she wasn’t kicking Aiden’s ass so masterfully and looking unruffled while doing it.
She even pauses for a fake yawn, as if the game is boring her, tossing a long braid over her shoulder.
She can’t be older than thirteen. She’s terrifying.
“You’ve got this,” I say, patting Aiden’s shoulder, even though I’m sure he doesn’t. I’m the best woman and it’s my role to be supportive—literally supportive, in fact, because Aiden slumps against me.
“Jules, I’m soooooooo drunk,” he groans into my hair. Aiden is such a lightweight. “You’ve got to take over for me.” He pulls away and grips my shoulders with his hands, more for support than emphasis. “Our family’s honor is on the line.”
“Are we finishing this or not?” asks his opponent, inspecting the chunky glitter polish on her nails.
I nudge Aiden aside and take his disc, squaring my shoulders and facing my new nemesis. Underneath her overalls, she’s wearing a tie-dye T-shirt featuring a galloping horse that I’m kind of jealous of. I must destroy her.
The room dims around me as we start to play.
My arm moves without conscious thought, blocking off my goal and knocking the puck across the table toward hers.
As if from a great distance I can hear our party chanting my name.
The girl no longer looks bored, she’s almost feral, hunched over the table with her face twisted into a snarling grimace. My face is probably doing the same.
“Your boyfriend is gonna cry when I beat you,” she says, whipping the puck toward me and scoring a goal.
“Gross, he’s my brother.” I score a goal back.
“I guess being ass at air hockey runs in the family.” She’s a blur of speed, blocking my shots and sending them back at me with the furious energy of youth.
My arm is starting to get tired and my back hurts from leaning over the table.
I check the scoreboard; after picking up Aiden’s slack, we’re now tied.
Whoever scores the next point wins the game.
I decide to beat her at her own game. Not air hockey: being an annoying little cunt.
“No friends to cheer you on?” I sneer at her, channeling every girl who ever bullied me. There are lots to choose from. “What’re you gonna do after you lose, Rollerblade home and watch Frozen ?” Sounds fun, if I’m being honest.
“What are you gonna do after you lose? Untuck your dick from between your ass cheeks and write about it on your blog?”
I’m horrified. “I don’t have a blog, you little bitch.”
We’re in a tense standoff for the next five minutes, neither of us scoring the final goal.
At one point my hand slips on the disk and the puck whacks my middle finger, shattering the polish and, possibly, bone.
You already ruined your manicure! my mother’s phantom voice wails in my head.
I’m losing steam quickly, and conscious of the audience gathered around us.
I flash back to my conversation with the twins and nervously scan the crowd, worried I’m going to see this little shit stain’s mother leading security to come apprehend me.
That one moment of distraction is all she needs, and the game is over. The boys pat my back while Ben leads Aiden toward the bathroom, presumably so he can puke. Horse girl comes around the table and eyes me evenly, all malice vanished.
“Good game.” She raises her hand and I’m too stunned to do anything more than shake it and watch her flounce away toward Dance Dance Revolution, where a group of kids her age, all as pimpled and gangly, cheer as she blushes and gives a shy little smile.
Whatever, at least I don’t have algebra homework to do.
Aiden is resting his head on our table when I finally make my way back, while Ben insists he drink a glass of water.
“I don’t wanna.” Aiden’s voice is muffled by the vinyl tablecloth. He sounds as petulant as he did when ordered to clean his room at age eleven.
“Just think of how dry your skin will be tomorrow if you don’t hydrate.” Ben rubs Aiden’s back, using the kind of tone you use with children and small animals. Aiden shoots up and chugs the entire glass in one go.