Leopoldine Core - When Watched - Stories

“Yeah or showing you the way in…”

Cory relit the pipe and puffed on it.

Sasha held out her hand. “Gimme that.” They were sitting on Cory’s bathroom floor because it was the coolest spot. Outside it was ninety-one degrees and the whole apartment was roasting.

The two of them looked exactly as they had at sixteen — at least to themselves. They were still best friends who lay around gossiping and looking at the walls. They were twenty-five now.

People often asked if they were sisters, though they didn’t look alike. Cory was short with a round face and brown curls that came to her shoulders. Sasha was tall and thin. She had a pointy face and dark eyes that looked drawn on.

“I need a job,” Cory said, handing the pipe over. “I’m starting to freak out.”

Sasha looked down at the black plastic mouthpiece. It was considerably bite-marked. “You should learn how to read tarot cards,” she said finally. “You’d be good at it.”

“No. I wanna believe in it too much. I’d hate to be the one making it up.” Cory hung her head low, examining her fingernails. They were a little yellow and some were longer than others. “We should both just marry doctors.”

“Oh come on . Do you really want to be some captured pet?”

“Yes.” Cory stared a second. “I’m not a genius like you.”

“I’m not a genius. I’m just popular.”

“But that’s a kind of genius, isn’t it?”

“I guess,” smiled Sasha. “See? You’re a genius too.”

Cory suppressed a naked look of delight. She stared down at the clammy legs sticking out of her dress. “I just need to find someone to feed me.”

Sasha rolled her eyes and stood up. “Enough already.” She bent over the sink and splashed her face with cold water, then gave the mirror a quick, urgent glance, as if checking to see if she was still beautiful. She was. “Everything costs something, Cory. I mean rich guys are aw ful to be around… so rude.”

“Well they’re full of well-being but nothing’s ever good enough.”

“Uh-huh. Their wives are so… you know… disposable.” Sasha sat back on the floor with a little thud. “I mean disposable if they’re lucky . Otherwise they just wind up with a rhinestone collar and a long leash their whole life.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Yes it does. Those women kill themselves.”

Cory leaned her head against the tub. “I’m really stoned.”

“I’m not. This is horrible weed.”

“I know. It’s not giggly weed. It just makes you stupid.”

“I don’t feel stupid. I don’t feel anything.” Sasha stuck her finger in the ashy hole of the pipe and poked around. “This is like a dirty old man’s pipe,” she said and relit the charred little nugget.

Cory cracked up. “It was my grandfather’s.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I took it from his house when he died.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“No it’s not.”

“Cory, we’re kissing your dead grandfather!”

The two broke into high-pitched, chaotic giggling.

“I never thought about it that way.” Cory held her abs, catching her breath. “But I guess you’re right.”

“Stoner.” Sasha brought the brown arm of the pipe to her lips and took a long pull.

“You like kissing him.”

“Shut up.”

“You can’t get enough.”

“I’m trying to get high, asshole.”

Cory doubled over chuckling, her knotty curls grazing the floor. She stayed there for a while, softly convulsing.

Sasha stared at the smeary base of the white sink. “Is it really Sunday?”

“I have no idea,” Cory said from under a mass of hair.

“I hate weekends… once you get into the rhythms of freedom it’s over.” Sasha set the pipe down with a small huff. “I’m gonna get going.”

“No.” Cory’s face popped up, flashing urgently. She grabbed hold of Sasha’s arm. “Don’t leave me alone with the Internet.”

“Is the Internet in here?” Sasha smirked. “Is it in the toilet?”

“No but it’s where I’ll go…” Cory stared pleadingly. It was a face beyond tears. “There’s this YouTube video called ‘Woman Accidentally Cuddles with Burglar.’ I’ve never clicked on it… but it wants me.”

“Come on, Core.” Sasha unhooked Cory’s sweaty fingers. “I have to work tomorrow. I just wanna go home and—”

“There’s another one that’s like, ‘Man Trades Kidney for iPhone.’” Cory stretched out on the floor, exposing the floral crotch of her underwear. “Oh Sasha. What the hell am I gonna do?”

Sasha stood up and put her hand on the doorknob, impatient.

“I don’t mind being glamorously poor,” Cory glowered, “but not so poor I look like white trash.”

“You really love this, don’t you?” Sasha took her hand from the knob.

“What?”

“You’re rolling around in your misery like a pig.”

Cory swallowed. “Sorry if I’m bothering you,” came a dry, splintery voice. She looked ready to cry. “If I can’t be ugly in front of you then — what the fuck? Fuck you!”

Sasha knelt beside her friend. “Okay.” She sighed. “Be ugly. Be really ugly.”

Cory stared up from the dirty tile floor. “Sometimes I have these fantasies where I’m comforting you .”

Sasha sniffed shyly. “But you do.”

“No. You don’t need it. You’re one of the beautiful people.”

“Shhhh.” Sasha brushed a fat curl from Cory’s balmy forehead.

“I need to be making money.”

“Yeah I get that.”

“When I meet people I always wanna ask how they do it… actually sometimes I do ask.” Cory’s face crinkled up with the embarrassment of a memory. “I’m like an animal watching human life and trying to take tips… but it doesn’t matter what I do. I’m an outsider.”

“Yeah,” Sasha grinned. “Another breed.”

“Hey!”

“You know I’m kidding.” Sasha smiled sweetly. “The question is how to get paid for being you.”

“It seems impossible.”

“It’s not.”

Cory sat up. She lit the pipe and took a grim drag. Now she tasted her dead grandfather. The weed was gone. “I’m a baby and a criminal,” she croaked. “I’m picking pennies off the floor.”

“Gimme a break.”

“If I see a penny I pick it up!”

Sasha rolled her eyes. She helped Cory to her feet and they stumbled into the kitchen, a fine grit pressing into their bare soles. Cory gave one foot a little shake and ducked the strip of fly tape that hung in the center of the room. Sasha raised an arm and fanned her pit. “Jee-sus,” she said. “I’m like a fucking chicken in the oven.”

“A fucking chicken?”

“Yeah. A chicken getting fucked.”

Cory smiled a little, then opened the freezer and stuck her arm in. She pulled out a couple popsicles: grape for her and strawberry for Sasha. “This is all I’ve been eating.”

“Shut up, orphan.” Sasha grabbed the red popsicle, tore the plastic off, and bit into it.

The two of them walked to Cory’s little bedroom, which felt hotter than all the other rooms. She had no overhead light, just a brown skinny-necked lamp that poured light the color of beer.

Cory switched on the fan by the bed. “It’ll get cooler once the sun sets,” she promised, then opened the window and inserted a bent screen.

They lay with thin pillows bunched up behind their heads, lapping up the popsicles in a quiet, methodical trance.

Once finished, Sasha said, “You could stay with your mom for a while.” She gave the wood stick a final suck.

“No way.” Cory frowned at the ceiling. “She would just look at me and know I was stoned.”