Val The Vessel

10 / Val The Vixen

The cable guy is all I've been able to think about. He had shown up to my doorstep, bashed a gaping hole through my bathroom wall without my consent, and practically assaulted me with latex gloves. Well, I actually enjoyed that part.

"Ugh!"

Quit thinking with your clit, Val. Screw him. That son of a bitch stole your car and left you to fend for yourself on the streets. He doesn't deserve a morsel of sympathy from you.

I swivel around in my chair, neck deep in thought. "He did technically return my car to me though."

Jeez, what is it about him? How can somebody be so barbaric and cynical one second, then obnoxiously charming the next? I wish that he would just demand whatever it is that he wants from me. I don't have much to offer, but if it will get that psychopath off my back then I'm sure I could work something out.

"Freaking hell!" I shout out, emancipating all of my frustration within my bedroom. I seldom vent audibly like this—definitely not with my older cousin around. Andrea's snoring is virtually cracking the sound barrier right now. She won't be up for another hour or so. Despite Andrea's relentless wheezing, it feels nice to have what I describe as a 'physical quiet'. No movement, no conversation, no confrontation, just dormant bodies at rest. It's bliss in its rarest form.

"VAL!"

I exhale, "It was nice while it lasted."

Andrea storms upstairs and darts down the hall, nearly sliding past my room in her fuzzy socks. "Val! T-There's—"

"What?" I ask, eager and annoyed.

Andrea bends over her knees to catch her breath. "There ain't no more mini waffles in yo fridge! Where the rest at?"

You've got to be kidding me. "There aren't any more. Somebody needs to go to the store."

Andrea tenses up. God forbid that she ever has to do her own grocery shopping at a public market. That's a job for 'blue-collared bozos' let her tell it. I guess ninety percent of the world is just jam-packed with bozos.

"Girl—" Andrea descends her shoulders the same way children do before they start to cry.

"Ugh fine, I'll run to the store ya lazy bitch."

Andrea's face shifts from blue to radiant in seconds. "Thank you so much girl! You know I love your curly-head ass, right?!"

"Mhm."

I can finally drive to the store now that my car is no longer stolen. The local Wal-Mart feels empty without its usual ignorant customers. It must have something to do with the fact that Andrea sent me here on a Wednesday morning. Nobody goes grocery shopping on a Wednesday morning, but now that I'm here, I take it upon myself to purchase everything else we need for the house. I push my clattery shopping cart down the frozen aisle in search of Andrea's precious mini waffles. The distinct yellow box catches my eye like fine jewelry and I reach to open the frosty door.

"Well well, if it ain't the lil' boxer in training."

I'm thrown back, spun around, and caught in the arms of a tall man. The feel of his muscular arms is familiar to me. He squeezes me into the embrace of his chest like I'm his personal body pillow. All it takes is one quick upward glance at his sherbet green eyes for me to ball a fist and lunge it at him. He catches it before it can land against his face. "You should really stop trynna hit me. I let you do it once before, but don't make me regret it."

He shoves my arm away and releases me. I pant heavily, mostly because I was just snatched by a strange man in the frozen aisle, and partly because he cradled me so tenderly while he did it. "T-The hell are you doin' here?! You tracking me or something?!"

The cable boy smirks. "Even supervillains gotta eat, lil' girl," he says as he drops a box of mini waffles in his hand basket. "I love this shit."

"Listen, you. I dunno who you think you are or why you keep stalkin' me, but I'm not some hood bitch that you can just grope whenever you want. Touch me again and you'll lose all of your fingers. That's a promise."

I swirl the other way and attempt to storm off but the boy grips my hand to prevent my escape. "Is that what you tell all your 'admirers' down at the club?"

I halt, gasp, and lock eyes with him. "What are you talkin' about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talkin' about Val, or do you prefer to be called 'Val The Vixen'? That is your stage name, right? Boy, your daddy is gonna lose his shit when he hears that you were a stripp—"

I clasp my hand around his mouth but he flings it away. "You... how do you know about that?"

"I know a lot about you, Val. I know that you worked at Garzy's night club as a full-time 'performer' before you got fired. I know that you're lyin' to your pops about being enrolled in college. I know that you gotta rare disease that causes you to bleed easily. I know that you put on a smile every day when all you wanna do is watch this godforsaken world burn to ashes."

I'm left without words. The man approaches me coolly with his arms tucked in his pockets. "I also know that you miss the heroes. I know that you want them to come back and smite all these villains runnin' wild out here. I know that you got potential for greatness. You wanna save the innocent people of this world before it burns. Am I wrong?"

"Screw you and stay the hell away from me," I snap, bouncing down the end of the aisle. I never look back yet I can feel the boy's deathly glare burn into my skull from behind.

"Guess your cousin won't be gettin' no mini waffles today!"