《Burning Moths》Tala: Liquid Courage
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If I do say so myself, my friends and I
Dazzle and sparkle in our sexy skirts,
Fancy hairdos, and high platform heels
That make my feet ache like hell
As we trudge up this dang steep hill.
In freezing late-February slush.
What the heck am I thinking?
Though nobody would expect it,
Tonight I've made a special effort.
It might sound petty or foolish or
Possibly even vain, but I want Rick
To covet everything we've lost.
Maybe it'll make him see reason.
I'm pretty sure he still loves me,
Or cares for me on some level,
But damn, if he isn't stubborn!
It's my job to wake him from his
Stupor and show him the truth:
He can relax some strict Catholic rules
Without giving up on his faith entirely.
As soon as we enter the pub with its
Minimalist décor, I catch Rick with
The preppy Republican Club guys,
Clones of handsome models from fancy
Labels, wearing Oxford shirts and chinos.
To me, Rick stands above the others,
His top button secure with a coat and tie,
Warding off what he calls 'loose women',
Who desire him for a night of casual fun
But think twice because he looks uptight.
To be fair, he kinda is...
With a perpetual bee up his butt.
But I love him anyway.
I always have.
Rick wasn't always this way.
My heart thuds when we approach them.
My palms sweat and my breath quickens,
My skin burns bright even though I
Haven't drunk a single sip of alcohol. Yet.
Time to fix that monstrous blunder.
"Hiya, boys," says Tessa, sultry as ever,
Draping a cardigan over her shoulder
From her index finger. They stare at us
Aghast, whispering among themselves
Like we're the tastiest steak on the menu.
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Except Rick.
Holding his head high, he casts a quick
Glance at my friends and here it comes:
That derisive smirk he always gives girls
Who act immodest and--in his words--
Scream, "Make way for the Revolution!"
Yeah, yeah. I get it, Mister Dumblebrain.
Anything left of Thatcher is communist.
Though, to be fair, Rick makes a point.
They kinda are The Socialist Brigade,
Like many students who study Sociology,
Political Science, or Women's Studies.
As a libertarian, I'm the outlier. Not them.
My appletini comes in a fancy glass,
Whose stem zigzags left then right.
I cast a glance at Rick while he listens to
One of the Rich Boys™ and laughs like
He's suffering the company of fools.
As though my gaze burns him,
Rick turns. He catches me staring
For he's a head taller than the others.
Little vixen that I am, I lift my glass,
Drain it all, and gently lick my lips.
My eyes never leave his.
When the cords in his neck tighten,
Rick gently tugs at his collar.
Now it's my turn to smirk
Before I turn back to my girls.
We've spent the last couple of hours
Discussing current events and analyzing
Every hint given by the guys in this joint.
"How in God's name did you put up
With all of Rick's bullshit?" asks Tessa.
She parts lips painted in the same shade
As her form-fitting red winter dress
To pull an olive daintily off a toothpick.
Tessa thinks she's such a prole,
But she wears Saks and drinks martinis.
Erica grins with anticipation. "Yeah, Tal.
Are you gonna tell us what his deal is
Now that you guys are no longer dating?"
I bite my lower lip. "I can't, guys.
It isn't my story to tell."
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Tessa sighs and crosses her arms.
"You've got to be the first woman in
Human history who protects her ex."
"It's no biggie." I shrug. "Rick had it tough
Growing up, and my family helped him.
We spent four hours a day together for
Most of our lives, through thick and thin,
And a breakup can't break that bond."
"Isn't that weird?" asks Katie. "Wouldn't
That kinda make him like a brother?"
I chuckle. "No, but we were close friends
Long before he proposed at eighteen.
Rick always said we would marry, even
Proposed to me with a daisy chain crown
At the age of five while we played House."
"Rick?" Tessa threw up her hands.
"Oak-up-his-ass Richard Marino?
No way, I refuse to believe it."
"He used to be super sweet as a kid."
I shrug. "Life hardened his heart."
Katie raises her glass of champagne.
"Ignis aurum probat, miseria fortes viros,
Wise words of the philosopher Seneca:
Fire is the test of gold; adversity is the
Test of men. If he fails, his fault."
Says the socialist.
Make up your mind.
Are you a leftie or not?
"So, whad'ya say?" asked Tessa, as though
I'd revealed the world's greatest secrets.
"When you guys were five, I mean?"
"I rugby tackled him."
All my girls burst into laughter,
Drawing the attention of the Rich Guys™
Despite The Pub being crammed.
"Oh, God!" exclaims Tessa. "Classic Tala!
No wonder why poor Rick is traumatized
He gives her a romantic gesture, and
She takes it as a declaration of war."
My smile fades.
Oh, no. Rick is traumatized all right,
But for a very different reason.
Katie notices my sudden reaction
And clears her throat.
"Well, I don't know about y'all,
But I wanna dance."
When Tessa waves me to the dancefloor,
I politely smile and shake my head.
She shrugs and fast dances with Erica,
Mouthing the lyrics to the Bond song
Made by Madonna, "Die Another Day".
Soon everyone is grinding on the floor
To bassy club versions of Destiny's Child.
When I turn toward Richard Marino,
He sits alone, staring into his glass
As though it holds all the answers.
It'll be a virgin cocktail. As always.
Not like me. I'm being
A bad girl tonight.
This might be my second--
Wait, no...I think maybe--
Okay, it's definitely my third
Appletini. But who's counting?
When I rise, I wobble slightly
And realize that I might have
Forgotten to eat dinner, which
Means this damn stuff has gone
Straight to my fuzzy, wuzzy head.
Whoo, baby! Here I come!
The angel on my right whispers,
Don't do it. Impaired judgment.
But a badass, devilish version of me
In a leather jacket on my left says:
Grab him by his little Oxford collar
And kiss him like you did that night
You took control three years ago.
Keep your cool, Tala, says the angel
On my right. Keep your cool.
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