unpopped: chapter two

I’m out of breath by the time I throw my apartment door open. Lydia jumps up. She’s watching Schitt’s Creek and never seen me so excited.

“How was it?” She pauses her show and gestures for me to sit next to her.

“It was...it was like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It was literally in the basement of a sex shop! Way more people than I expected. At least a hundred? Maybe more.” I couldn’t contain myself. It didn’t feel real. Nothing like this has ever happened at Pioneer.

“So what was the meeting about? Did they have you putting condoms on bananas?” Lydia laughs.

I roll my eyes, “It’s not seventh-grade sex ed. The topic of the night was--” I whisper, “masturbation.”

Lydia howls with laughter. “Oh my god, that’s so funny. Not even the sex-positivity club gets laid at Pioneer.”

“No it was like, they were arguing that masturbation’s part of an active sex life. They had keynote speakers and everything.” I’m frustrated that Lydia’s not as fascinated as I am. The people in Triple X were not ashamed. Why did Lydia find that so embarrassing?

“Anything else interesting happen? Did you talk to any of the members?”

I felt protective of Triple X. I didn’t want to give Lydia any more reasons to laugh at them. I definitely wasn’t going to tell her the people we know that were there. “Promise you won’t tell? I think I’m gonna do my story on this.”

Lydia holds up three fingers, “Editor in Chief’s honor.”

God doesn’t Lydia know that no one cares that she spends twenty-hours a week editing a paper no one reads. I don’t know why I feel so vicious toward her.

“They’re planning this event called the Fuck Yourself Fun Fest.”

Lydia’s eyes widen, “What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure about all the details but from what I heard they’re gonna give out free vibrators on campus. It’s like this huge thing they’re planning. I’m not sure when it’s gonna be. I didn’t volunteer to be on any of the committees so I don’t really know the details.”

Lydia gasps, “You have to find out. If we report on this I can use it for my grad school applications. This is major news Erin!”

We? I thought this was my story to report on.

“Yeah, it sounds pretty cool.” I play with my hair and remember what Delilah asked me, “Oh my god I almost forgot. They asked me to write for their blog. I had an English class with the president and she said they’re looking for a new Frida Nipple. That’s the pseudonym for the blog’s writer.”

I’m trying to not sound too impressed with myself and Lydia laughs.

“Shouldn’t the writer of a sex blog know what they’re talking about? Imagine if Carrie Bradshaw was a virgin. Why would anyone read her column?”

Why is Lydia being so bitchy about this? Isn’t she always saying how much she likes my writing and how much she wants me to share it with the world?

“Well, most writers do research on the topics they write about. You don’t have to live what you write about. I can be the Good Will Hunting of sex.” I sound defensive and I hate it.

“Oh my god I’m joking. I’m just saying you haven’t even kissed anyone so it’s wild that you’d write as a “sexpert” for Triple X.” Lydia holds in a laugh.

We sit in silence for a few seconds. Lydia doesn’t hit play on her show. I stand up.

“I’m gonna go to bed. I have class tomorrow.”

***

I’m listening to music in bed when I get a text. It’s from a number I don’t have saved. My stomach jumps up into my throat.

Hey it’s Delilah. Do you wanna get coffee tomorrow? We can talk ab the Frida position.

I reply almost instantly.

I would luv to. When/where?

The three dots tell me that Delilah is typing.

Braxton? I have class at 10 but we could meet beforehand? Or if u wanna sleep in I’m free after.

I have rhetorical composition at nine but I can’t imagine sitting through a whole class knowing I could be hanging out with Delilah. I have three excused absences to use throughout the semester. One missed class won’t hurt. I think we’re just reviewing the chapter too.

Wanna meet at 8?

Perfect. See you then.

I’m cradling my phone when my door opens.

“Erin?” Lydia is peeking in through the crack.

“Hey.”

“I just wanted to say that I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’ve been in a bitchy mood tonight for some reason. I think you should go for the writing spot.”

“Thanks Lyd.”

We both say goodnight and she closes the door. I go to sleep hoping the morning comes quickly.

***

In the morning I make a mental note to buy more interesting clothes. Delilah is not going to be impressed by my loose jeans or pilled sweaters. God forbid she sees that I still have my church camp t-shirts and wear them regularly. I give up and wear an oversized turtleneck and black jeans. It may not be much but it’s a bland enough look to make me mysterious.

***

“Hey bitch,” Delilah smiles from her sofa chair. The crowd at Braxton is dying out and it didn’t take a lot of effort to spot the girl in the hot pink sundress and checkered Vans. Delilah had tied her hair into a knotted mess and covered her eyelids in bubblegum colored glitter. Her five necklaces clinked as she stood up to move her tote bag from the seat she was saving for me.

“I haven’t ordered yet don’t worry. Did you bring your laptop?”

I double-check my backpack and nod, “Yeah I’ve got it. I forgot to charge it last night so we might have to sit by an outlet.”

“No worries. What do you want? This one’s on me.” She smiles so wide her eyes almost wink.

“I’ll have whatever you have.” I feel daring but deep down I hope she gets something sweet. I don’t think she will.

I plug my laptop in and check my phone. Lydia’s texted me.

Hey, sorry again for being a bitch. Can we watch a movie tonight? I’m stressed ab the game tomorrow.

Delilah laughs and I look up. It looks like she’s flirting with the barista. I don’t know why but that annoys me a little bit. She looks so pretty in hot pink. Maybe I should ask her to take me shopping for a teen movie shopping makeover moment.

I’m down! What should we watch?

Lydia’s probably gonna ask to watch a documentary. I don’t really want to watch a movie but it’s not worth it to shut her down.

There’s a new Netflix documentary out about immigration I’ve wanted to watch.

I laugh. She is so predictable.

Sounds good!

“Here ya go.” Delilah hands me a steaming mug of black coffee. “I didn’t know if you took cream or sugar so I just didn’t add any.”

I wince. Is it childish to add sugar and cream? I’ll suffer through it and add some if Delilah goes to the bathroom.

Delilah takes a sip of her coffee and jumps right into business.

“So, Frida Nipple. The last Frida was this bombass senior that studied poli sci. She focused on power dynamics regarding sex. But, there are no rules for this. All you have to do is give us something every Sunday. We have a few other applicants but their shit is wretched to read. Like, my eyes are bleeding kind of bullshit. I know for a fact you’re a brilliant writer so I’m not worried about that. Between you and me it’s not even a competition for you to get the position. But the higher-ups want me to walk you through our vetting process. Don’t worry this isn’t gonna become fight club or anything…”

She’s talking so fast I wonder how many cups of coffee she’s had today. She picks at her cuticles in between breaths. I’m not sure why she’s so adamant that I’m a good writer. I didn’t even mean to read that poem aloud in class. I keep looking at her glossy lips but can’t register what she’s saying. She smells like stale cigarettes.

“Are you in?” Delilah interrupts my thoughts.

I shake my head, “Sorry I just spaced out. I don’t usually wake up this early.”

Delilah laughs, “No problem man. I was just wondering if you’re still down to write for us.” She pulls a stack of papers out from her bag, “You won’t need a lawyer or anything but here’s the contract. Just a protective measure since the administration is riding our asses.”

I flip through the contract. Just the usual confidentiality policies. I have to agree to not write for other online publications. I don’t think the school paper counts. It’s not like I can ask Delilah if that breaches the contract.

“Do you have a pen?” I ask.

She hands me a purple gel pen. It has a penis sticker on the side and a vulva on the other. They’re cutesy and not at all clinical representations of genitals.

“Welcome to the Triple X executive board, Miss Nipple.” She shakes my hand and her palms are soft.

My face flushes and I take a sip of coffee so I don’t have to say anything.

***

The next day I wake up early. Last night I told Lydia I would help her report on the Eastville game. The three freshmen texted Lydia in the middle of our movie night to tell her they were dropping their assignments. So it would just be Michelle, Cooper, Lydia, and I. Cooper and Michelle called dibs on reporting the actual game. They’d sit in the box seats and write down what the announcer said. That left Lydia and me with student life. We’re supposed to report on the tailgate and interview Pioneer fans and Eastville fans about the game.

“God I can’t believe they just dropped like that. Like what the fuck.” Lydia slings her backpack over her shoulders and continues ranting about the freshmen.

I want to tell her that they didn’t exactly agree to do any reporting but decide against it. Things are still kind of weird since the Triple X meeting. We didn’t talk for most of the documentary and went to bed right after. I didn’t mind the early bedtime. I listened to Dan Savage’s podcast until I fell asleep. He had someone on that talked about shoving a metal rod into the urethra of a penis. I hope Delilah didn’t expect me to write about things like that.

“Yeah, that’s really shitty of them.” I slurp my Folgers coffee and we shuffle down our apartment building’s back stairway.

We can hear chants coming from across campus.

“God people are already hammered and it’s not even nine in the morning.” Lydia rolls her eyes.

“I mean the game starts at eleven. If they’re gonna tailgate they gotta get it in early!” I laugh. Pioneer always has morning games because we’re the worst team in the league. I don’t think we’ve won a game since I was a freshman.

“Thanks captain obvious. Hurry up the fans are going to become incoherent before we can even interview them.” Lydia starts to walk faster and I struggle to keep up.

***

“What a tragic loss!” Cooper laughs after sipping his Cherry Coke. We’re at Grimey’s Diner to refuel after a long day of reporting.

I only interviewed two people because Lydia kept walking off with the equipment. After the third time she disappeared, I gave up and had just walked around. I kept seeing vaguely familiar faces and wondered if I recognized them from Triple X or if everyone at Pioneer just looks alike.

“Yeah, I never would’ve guessed Eastville would beat us.” Michelle giggles. I think she and Cooper took edibles during the game. They have been sent into hysterics almost everything.

“Did you guys catch anything interesting at the tailgate?” Cooper asks Lydia and me.

We both shake our heads. I’m immediately bored with the whole situation. I know that Lydia’s gonna want to spend the rest of the night complaining about the freshmen and Cooper and Michelle being stoned the whole day. It’s like groundhog day when it comes to things that Lydia gets mad about. I know I should care more and that’s what it means to be a good friend but I don’t care at all.

My phone buzzes. Delilah.

What are u doing rn?

I look up and Lydia is asking for a refill on her soda.

Getting dinner with friends. Whts up?

I’m working on shit for the fuck urself fun fest. Wanna come over and help me?

My heart races and I can’t wait to get out of Grimey’s.

Totally! Whts ur address? I’ll head over now.

I tell Cooper, Lydia, and Michelle that I’m feeling tired and gonna head home. I should’ve come up with a better excuse because Lydia’s gonna freak if she gets home and I’m not there. But anything else would seem like a lie because as far as she knows I don’t have other friends.

They tell me to get some rest. Maybe I’ll get lucky and they’ll get drunk and Lydia will spend the night at Cooper’s.

***

“Oh thank god you’re here.” Delilah throws her door open. She smells like cumin and incense. I’m kind of surprised she’s at home on a Saturday night.

She ushers me in and I absorb my surroundings. She lives in a studio apartment. The walls are papered with cool posters and the floor is crowded with lots of potted plants. There are purplish lamps all over. The room is dark and warm. Paper and puff paint litter the floor.

“I’m trying to make posters for the Fuck Yourself Fun Fest but they keep coming out like sorority recruitment announcements instead of anarchist badassery. I didn’t realize how good I was at bubble letters. Can you pleeeeease help me.” Delilah’s dark hair spills down her back and she ties it up into a sloppy topknot.

“I’m not an artist but I can try to help.” I kneel down and look at the posters. They’re all very cute. Conventionally feminine in such an earnest way. It’s like a little girl was passing notes to her best friend. At least, they looked that way if you ignored what the actual words were.

FUCK YOURSELF FUN FEST

GET FUCKED PIONEER

GOOD VIBEZ ONLY

The “Good Vibez Only” poster had a scribbled image of a vibrator.

“Aren’t they hilarious?” Delilah stands over me and points at the posters in my hands.

“Yeah, they’re pretty clever.”

“Do you want anything to drink? I just grabbed some wine at Trader Joe’s.” She points to a dark red bottle on her kitchen counter.

I’m don’t really like wine but I say yes anyway. Red wine seems like the black coffee of alcohol. Mature and bitter.

She hands me a Six Flags cup filled with wine and sits down next to me, “I think we can make these look really cool don’t you?”

I can smell her breath she’s so close.

“Yeah. Do you know what kind of look you’re going for?”

Delilah pulls out her phone. Her head rolls around the top of her sinewy neck and I realize she’s drunk. “I want it to kind of look like these audition posters. Aren’t those cool? My first boyfriend was in a band. They’d all get baked and work on these all night. I used to think it was elderly of him to make all the posters by hand when FedEx exists but I’m just now realizing how badass and punk that is.”

She talks a lot for someone mysterious, but I hang onto her every word. I wonder how many boyfriends she’s had. To have a first boyfriend there had to be a second or a third. Maybe even more? How do I ask these things without getting the questions reflected back?

“Here, try and recreate this.” Delilah hands me her phone with the image of the band posters open. I grab a blank piece of paper and try to sketch the letters in pencil. Delilah walks to her bedside table.

“Do you want a hit?” She’s just finished grinding up her weed and is packing it into a purple glass bowl.

I’m not going to admit that I’ve only been high once but I’ve only had a sip of wine and tonight feels endless with her. I nod and hope she will light it for me.

“Here you go. You can take the first hit.”

One inhale sends me into a coughing fit. I can’t tell if my face is red because I coughed for a minute or if I’m embarrassed. Delilah gives me the courtesy of pretending she didn’t notice but I can feel her smirking.

“God these posters are gonna take forever. Do you mind if I put a movie on?” I shrug and Delilah opens her laptop and types in Lady Bird.

Halfway through the movie, my heart is racing. We’re sitting in silence and I can hear our breathing.

“Do you like Greta Gerwig?” I ask. I don’t know anything about Greta Gerwig other than she directed Lady Bird but it seems like the kind of question Delilah would want to answer.

“Don’t tell anyone but I kind of hate this movie. I went to an all-girls school so I feel like I should relate to it more but I think I like my mom too much for it to resonate.” She closes her eyes and gulps down the rest of her wine.

I know that Delilah is from here but I didn’t know she went to an all-girls school, “What school did you go to?”

My head is heavy and buzzing. I’m hungry. Does Delilah have Cheez-Its? She looks so pretty in the warm lamplight.

“This stupid prison called Pine Hill School for Girls. I fucking hated it there but my mom thought I would ‘benefit from the discipline.’”

The name spins around in my head and then I remember why it’s familiar, “Oh my god my roommate went there for middle school! Do you know Lydia Maxwell?”

Delilah’s eyes widen and her face pales, “Um, that name sounds familiar but I don’t think I knew her.”

The movie’s not over but Delilah hops up and turns it off, “Wow I’m pretty baked. I’m gonna go to bed. You’re welcome to crash here if you want.”

I’m confused but crave the fresh air, “No worries. I want to walk home.”

“Okay. I’ll see ya next Thursday!”

I’m standing in the hallway when I hear Delilah close the door. She’s probably just stoned and being weird. I hope it didn’t get cold out. I didn’t wear a jacket here.

Once outside, I look up at the sky. It’s a full moon.

***