Fuck It (Yama Yama)

“Yeah, well, that can happen,” Bobby Jo says wisely. “Let’s get her inside.”

I hold my breath as long as I can, dreading the inhale I know will bring another gut wrenching bout of nausea. My burning eyes pour tears from beneath my closed lids. I hear the shower kick on, and Simon places me on my feet in the bathroom.

“Don’t touch anything,” Bobby Jo instructs when I force one eye open. She shakes out a trash bag. “Strip, put your clothes in here, and get in the shower.” Turning to Simon, she tosses him my yellow robe. “You can use the shower in Sicily’s bathroom. I’m sure she won’t mind. We’ll throw your clothes in the washer.”

Simon disappears, and I do as I’m told without a second thought. I’m beyond being embarrassed at this point. Bobby Jo leaves and returns with a box of items. Mumbling to herself, she produces two giant bottles of tomato juice.

She hands one to me. “Just pour this one over your head and work it into your hair like it’s shampoo.” She looks me up and down while I stand naked and shivering in the shower. “At least we don’t have to worry about hair anywhere else. I’ll never understand you young girls tearing all the hair out of your tender regions.”

A small snort makes me look up to where Simon stands, my too small robe wrapped tightly around him. My face heats up, and I glare at him. “You don’t need to be here for this. What the hell are you doing here, anyway?”

“Toby is staying with his friend tonight. I thought we could…get together.”

“And you forgot phones exist?” I’m being a bitch, but give me a break. I’m standing naked, covered in tomato juice while an older woman scrubs my body with a little too much enthusiasm.

Bobby Jo looks at him and gestures toward the door, splashing a bit of tomato juice on the floor. “Go grab me a big bowl from the kitchen, would you? This tomato juice probably won’t be enough. We’ll need to try something else.”

As soon as he’s gone, Bobby Jo grins at me. “He’s trying to get in your pants, and you ain’t having it, huh? Can’t say I blame you. He’s got a great body, but he looks like he might think a clitoris is a Pokemon.”

Despite my situation, I can’t help but giggle. “It’s not that.”

“Yeah? Are you trying to preserve your virginity? Because there are other ways to have fun. Don’t discount the poop hole loophole.”

Bobby Jo may be the strangest woman I’ve ever met—and I’m friends with Kasha—but she really is funny. And kind. I mean, how many other people would drop everything to scrub skunk spray from a neighbor?

“Get under the water and rinse off so we can see if you still stink.”

Simon returns, and I hear Bobby Jo giving him instructions as they mix something in a large bowl. “What is that?” I ask, peeking around the shower curtain.

“Peroxide, baking soda, and dish soap.” She approaches and sniffs at my arm. “It’ll take the rest of that smell away. Might lighten up your hair a bit, though. Good thing you aren’t a brunette. Close your eyes. You don’t want to get this in them.” I obey, and listen as she barks an order at Simon. “Well, get over here, tight buns, and get her body while I do her hair.”

Yeah, totally not humiliating.

“Uh…Lydia?” My eyes open to slits to see Sicily standing in the doorway, her jaw hovering near the tomato-spotted floor. “I…don’t know the girl code for something like this.”

The whole thing suddenly strikes me as funny. Giggles build up in my chest when I picture the scene poor Sicily just walked in on. Her roommate is standing naked in a shower with tomato juice everywhere, being scrubbed by a fifty-plus-year-old woman and a guy trying to bust out of a yellow robe.

Laughter shakes my body, and I gasp out the words, “No girl code for this one. Sorry.”

“Uh, yeah.” Sicily shakes her head, the edge of her mouth quirking up. “I’m just going to wait in the living room.”

Simon grins up at me while he runs the soapy concoction up and down my legs.

“All right. Rinse off, wash with your usual soap, and get out. We’ve done all we can do,” Bobby Jo says. She gathers the bottles and bowl and leaves me alone with Simon.

“See what happens when you just pop in?” I tease. “You end up getting puked on and washing skunk off a naked woman.” Now that the smell is gone, the nausea has passed. After years of watching Kasha get herself into these kinds of situations, I have to see the humor in it. There’s no reason to continue being a bitch to Simon.

“It’s worth it,” he replies with a wink.