The Real

“You’re breaking my heart,” she said, glowering at me. “I’ve had the same chemical reaction with the same man for two years, and you’re saying it will fade? You don’t really believe that, do you?”

“I’m more of a scientist than believer at this point.”

“So, you’re saying my marriage is bound to fail because, eventually, I won’t get high off him?”

“Hey, don’t take my head off. It’s just a theory. And I think Anthony is the one man who can make you consistently high. I’m not knocking love. I want it for myself.”

“Well, I choose to believe that chemical reaction is bullshit.”

“And for only fifty dollars, you can be reassured,” I said, showing her all my teeth.

“You need a chemical reaction,” she said, elbowing me hard in the side as we walked through the gate.

Marisela—who I was sure was born with a different name, like Mary or something less mystical—greeted us as we entered the living room that also served as a makeshift waiting room. “Hi, Bree,” she said in a warm greeting. Marisela’s apartment wasn’t decorated with healing crystals and didn’t reek of incense. It looked like a typically decorated living room. Marisela dressed in casual clothes, her appearance very girl next door. She was the opposite of what I’d expected when I first met her.

“How are you?” Marisela said, looking her over before she addressed me.

“And you? Are you finally ready to get your cards read?” she asked as Bree turned to me, both brows raised.

“I had a fortune cookie last night, so I’m good. Thank you.”

Bree scowled at me while Marisela laughed. She had tried to lure me into her lair many times but was good-natured about the fact I didn’t believe in it.

“I’m sorry,” I said, apologizing as Bree shot daggers at me. “Not today, Marisela. Maybe some other time.”

“It’s fine. I hear those kinds of comments often. I get labeled as the crazy lady. It’s nothing new.” She looked me over and smiled. “Sometimes they even go so far as to call me a witch.” She studied my reaction. I couldn’t help it. My jaw dropped as her eyes lit up in victory. “Come see me when you’re ready. And tell your gypsy neighbor I said hello.”

“O-kay.”

I had no idea who she was referring to, and the look on her face told me she knew that too. She turned her all-seeing eyes on my best friend.

“Ready, Bree?”

Bree followed Marisela past the French doors that led to her reading room. I was genuinely stunned as I took a seat on her couch. She couldn’t have guessed Cameron’s pet name for me. There was no conceivable way. I hadn’t even told Bree.

Passing it off as coincidence, I picked up a copy of Rolling Stone from the coffee table and thumbed through an article about one of my favorite bands, The Dead Sergeants. I was drooling over a candid shot of the front man when Marisela’s tiny, four-legged Q-tip approached me. I wasn’t much of an animal lover. I wasn’t born with the gene that made people capable of swapping saliva with a dog. And just as I wished I had it, the little shit mounted my new boot and began humping me.

“Oh no, don’t do that.” I shook my leg while beady eyes stared up at me. I could have sworn the little ball of fur was smiling. “Let’s not do that. Shoo,” I said, eyes narrowed on the French doors, wondering if Marisela knew what was happening.

Cameron: What are you up to?

I repeatedly shook my leg, to no avail.

There was no way I was talking to Cameron while being used as the perverted fluff bag’s hump post.

Was this life’s sick irony at my jab at love?

I needed to get out of that room. I stood, and the dog remained steadfast as I stomped my foot.

I didn’t want to leave Cameron waiting, so I crossed my arms and stared down at the violating beast. The act seemed criminal coming from a puppy so cute. It ignored my plea and kept at it, pink tongue hanging out. “Come on, let’s wrap it up. You get no points for stamina.”

After a few more minutes, I gave up and thumped its nose. I was surely going to hell for that. Resuming my seat, and in need of a cigarette and an apology for the dog who walked off like I meant nothing to him, I picked up my phone.

Me: You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.

Cameron: Try me.

Me: I’m waiting on Bree who’s getting her fortune read and a dog just made love to my boot. Didn’t take it to dinner or anything, just fed his desires and left.