Language of Love

Pugno

    "Who's execution?" Fitz asks.
    "I have no idea. Prisoner's name is Jason Mudd." I say.
     "Was it one of your students?" Fitz asks.
     "No. I had a Jason, but his last name wasn't Mudd." I say.
     "What'd he do?" Fitz asks.
     "18. U.S.C. 2251." I say.
     "What the hell is that?" Fitz asks.
     "Murder related to the sexual exploitation of children." Marx says.
     "How'd you know that?"
     "The internet is a magical place. I found his mugshot." Marx says. He turns his phone towards me. I see it.
      "Ace. That's Ace. I just never knew his real name. The bastard invited me to his execution." I say.

      "Oh figures." Fitz says and looks back at the tv.
     "Figures? What the hell kinda people do you know?" He asks. I shrug and walk out of the room.
     "Soap opera!" He shouts.

     Fitz walks into our room an hour later. Marx stayed in the living room.

     "Can Marx stay over?" Fitz asks.
     "I don't care. It's your house too." I answer.
     "Okay, I'm going to order a pizza. What toppings?" He asks.
     "Olives." I say. He nods and steps out of view but then walks back into the room. He shuts the door. I close my laptop.

"Don't go to the execution. He obviously wanted you there. Don't give him that satisfaction." Fitz says and walks out of the room. I lean back and open my laptop. Pulled up is the email. I had been staring at it. I want to go. But I know I shouldn't. I've got two weeks to decide.

On Thursday, I go over to Courtney's. Her and Devin broke up. Again.

I open the door, it was unlocked. She sits wrapped in a blanket on the couch surrounded by at least 6 empty tubs of Ben & Jerry's. I lock the door. She looks over. She's watching "My 600 pound life." I raise an eyebrow.

     "Continue the ice cream trend and you'll end up like that guy. Put down the spoon and get up," I say.
      "What's the point?" She asks.
      "There's life outside of the dreary apartment. Let's have a girls day. You can forgot all about Devin." I say.
      "Devin is girl." She says.
      "I'm aware. Now get up. You can't mope around here. This isn't the end of the world,"
I say.
      "Easy for you to say. Miss I'm Engaged To Prince Charming." She snarks.
      "Well I need a mani-pedi and I'm not going to take Fitz. Get off your ass and come with me." I say.

      "Fine." She says and take off the blanket.
      "You gotta do something with that hair." I say. She touches it and gets her finger caught in a tangle.
       "Ow."
       "Okay, just put in a bun." I say. She does.

      We get our nails done. We avoid relationships in our conversations. I don't mention Fitz, she doesn't mention Devin. It's good. We told stories about some of the most ridiculous things that happened in our classes.

     "I miss her," She says.
     "I thought we weren't going to talk about this."
     "I know, I wish I had a relationship perfect like yours and Fitz's." She says.
     "It's not perfect." I say.
     "Yes it is. Stop trying to make me feel better." She says.
     "No..." I say.
     "What's going on?" She asks.

     "I was an invited to an execution." I say. "Fitz told me not to go, but I'm going."
     "I'm sorry, but did you say execution? Like killing somebody?" She asks.
     "Yes."
     "You need to take three steps back. Who the hell do you know that is getting executed? Why the hell are the inviting you to their death?" She asks.

      I tell the Ace story. From high school to three weeks ago, at Russel's. I forgot other people had ears until I look at the women to Courtney's left.

      "What the fuck kinda life do you live?" She asks.
     "A soap opera." I say. "I live in a soap opera."
     "You sound like Marx." Courtney says.
     "Where do you think I got it the reference from?" I ask. She laughs.

     The women next to me stares at me like I had five eyes. I hear her whisper something to her daughter.

     "Did you hear all that?" She asks.
     "Yeah. What the hell?" Her daughter says.
     "So her boyfriend is mad because she's attending the execution of her despised ex-boyfriend / baby daddy. Yikes." I hear her say.

     "It's rude to talk behind people's back." I say. She gives me a look of horror.
     "Uh..."
     "It's okay. My life is interesting, I get it." I say. Courtney laughs.

      "So are you going to go?" She asks.
      "Yeah. I'm just not going to tell Fitz. Be my alibi?" I ask.
      "Yeah. Wait. Can I come? I wanna come." She says.
      "Invitation only." I say. She laughs.
      "When is it?"
      "Friday."

     Friday, I get ready. I wear a skirt and blouse and put on heels. Fitz looks at me like I'm insane.

     "Where are you going like that?" Fitz asks.
     "A lesbian bar." I say.
     "What?" Says Marx, who I forgot was in the room. Now I'm lying to them both.
     "Courtney needs help getting over Devin, so we're going to a lesbian bar. I'm wearing the ring, so hopefully I won't get hit on. I'm designated driver if Courtney doesn't go home with someone else, so it's not a big deal. I would invite you, but they only let girls in." I say.
      "Okay. Have fun." He says.

      I drive to the building it's being held. I follow the instructions from my email. I find the door and go in. There's a set up of chairs. And a table. Lethal injection.

     I sit down in the front row next to a woman. I don't recognize her face. She obviously doesn't recognize mine either.

     "Who are you?" She asks.
     "Gray Thorne." I say.
     "Not what I meant. Why are you here?" She asks.
     "Before I say anything, I'm going to ask you who you are." I say.
     "Oh my god. You must be the fiancé." She says.
     "No. I dated this guy in high school. Well, between you and me, he was basically my sugar daddy in high school. The ring is from someone else. Someone I actually love." I say. She squints.
      "He killed my daughter." She says.
      "Okay. Well, my original answer was going to be, 'I'm here to watch the bastard die' but I was afraid you were his sister or something." I say.
      "No. I'm here to watch him suffer too." She says. I open my hand. She grabs it.