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UNEXPECTED GIRL GANG

A s I sit back at the bar, nursing my drink, I stare out at the water, trying to make sense of everything. My phone buzzes.

His Boss:

Are you still alive?

What a strange question, I think, my stomach twisting again. Although, given what’s happened, it sadly makes sense.

Me:

Yeah. I’m just at Dock Bar getting my head together.

Timmy’s Boss:

I’ll come meet you?

I hesitate. I don’t know her well, but she seems kind, and I’m desperate for someone to talk to.

Me:

Sure, sounds good. See you soon.

When she arrives, I’m still on edge. She sits next to me, and tilts her body toward me. There's concern in her eyes, but the smirk she wears doesn’t match it. It’s like she’s listening to the world’s most predictable story, and she’s mildly amused that I’ve become part of it. That said, I feel like her smirk is aimed at Timmy, not me. I don’t feel like she’s judging me at all, just isn’t surprised about any of it, as wild as it is. Given she’s Timmy’s ex’s best friend, this just adds to my concern.

I take a deep breath and recount everything—Timmy’s sudden rage, the attack, the police showing up, the antlers. I try to keep my voice steady, but the words feel heavy and absurd coming out of my mouth, as if I’m describing a dream I still haven’t fully woken from.

She listens, nodding, occasionally biting her lip to stifle a laugh. It’s not malicious, just... strange. Like she expected this all along.

“I’m really sorry,” she says. “But, honestly? Not surprised.”

Her words hang in the air.

What the hell? I think. She’s acting like this is some inevitable punchline to a joke everyone knew but me.

Then, she drops the first bombshell. “So… Jennifer’s downstairs.”

“Who?”

“His ex. She’s picking up a camera from me to install at her place because Timmy’s been stalking her.”

I blink, trying to process what she just said. “Wait—Timmy? Stalking her? Recently?”

She nods nonchalantly, as if she just told me it’s supposed to rain later.

“That can’t be right,” I say, shaking my head. “He’s been with me 24/7. I mean, there was maybe an hour or two when he was working on a condo, but… stalking her? No way.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what she says.” She shrugs. “Anyway, she wants to come up here and say hi if that’s okay.”

I’m stunned. Say hi? Timmy’s ex—who is allegedly being stalked by him—wants to meet me? The whole thing feels surreal, like I’m caught in some bizarre soap opera .

But, weirdly enough, it doesn’t feel like I have much of a choice. So I nod. “Sure.” What the hell else can I do today, anyway? At least nobody’s threatening me with antlers right now.

A few minutes later, Jennifer strolls in. She’s warm and friendly, but there’s an air of curiosity about her as she sizes me up, the way you might look at a strange animal at the zoo. Not hostile—just curious. I feel like an exhibit on display. But, to be fair, I’ve heard so many stories that I kind of feel the same way about her.

“So… you’re the new girlfriend,” she says with a smile. “Or fiancée, I suppose is the technical term.” There’s an edge to her voice as she says the word ‘fiancée’, which I suppose is reasonable.

I nod, feeling awkward. “Yep, I guess so.”

She settles into a chair, and I tell her a bit about what happened last night. She listens intently, her eyes sparkling with what looks like amusement, though I can’t tell if it’s directed at Timmy or me.

“I dated that asshole for two whole years,” she says, shaking her head with a chuckle. “He never pulled that kind of shit with me, though. Probably because my kid is a giant teenager, and he knew he’d kill him if he tried anything. Plus, I’ve got a big community here—he wouldn’t have dared.”

Hearing that Timmy behaved himself with her—at least from a physical violence perspective—but snapped with me so quickly stings in a way I wasn’t prepared for. It makes me wonder—what did I do wrong? Was there something about me that made him think it was okay to treat me this way?

I know it’s not logical. I know I shouldn’t blame myself. But the thought sneaks in anyway, like an insidious whisper.

“He owes me thousands of dollars,” Jennifer continues. “And when he got mad, he used to throw my stuff over the fence. He even slashed my kid’s tires.”

“What the actual fuck?” I mutter.

She nods knowingly. “Oh yeah. He’s crazy. Completely out of his mind. He came to my house a week ago and slashed my mattress like it was nothing. That’s why I’m in the neighborhood, actually. Picking up security cameras because he’s still stalking me. ”

I try to wrap my head around it. The timelines don’t match up—Timmy’s been with me this whole time. How could he possibly have gone to her house and done that?

But the weirdness doesn’t stop.

We exchange numbers. A number I didn’t ever think I would want or need. But it makes sense at the time.

“I bought him a truck, you know,” she says casually.

I perk up. “Wait... the truck? I have the keys to that truck.”

Her eyes light up. “Seriously? Do you have them with you?”

“Yeah,” I say, fishing them out of my bag. “You want them? I don’t want them.”

“Yes!” she exclaims, her face lighting up with something close to glee.

I hand her the keys without a second thought. If this truck is hers, I want nothing to do with it. I’m happy to get the keys off my hands. The less I have that ties me to Timmy, the better.

She clutches the keys, looking triumphant. “Thank you!”

I sit back, dazed. The whole encounter feels like I’m being punked—Timmy’s boss sitting with me, his ex showing up out of nowhere, the bizarre stories, the truck keys. It’s like I’ve stepped into some parallel universe where nothing makes sense, but everyone else seems weirdly okay with it.

And through it all, deep down, I still care about Timmy. What the hell is wrong with me? He attacked me. Threatened me. And yet, I keep thinking about him—about the moments when he was kind, the way he made me feel so seen. How can someone be so many things at once?

Jennifer slips the keys into her pocket and gives me a wink. “Good luck with him,” she says, standing to leave. “If he ever tries to contact you, block his ass immediately.”

I nod, my head spinning, and watch as she walks away. Timmy’s boss—well now, former boss, I suppose—leans back in her chair, smirking again.

“You’ll be okay,” she says. “I’m just glad you got out of there alive.”

I don’t feel okay. I feel like I’ve fallen into some strange dream I can’t wake up from, where every twist makes me question what’s real and what isn’t.

And the scariest part? I still don’t know what’s coming next.