Pulled by the Tail

Chapter 1-2

Like frozen fish fillets in the heating vents. Concerned with his heart and omega-three fatty acids, they stocked the freezer with a variety of fish. She didn’t particularly enjoy fish but she choked it down because that’s what a good girlfriend did, right?

She refused to be Kevin’s good girlfriend anymore.

Georgia grabbed a bag and stuffed it with the first things she grabbed from the closet. She’d crash with Freema for a few days until she could find a place of her own. She had money. She had a job, even if it was a job in Kevin’s office as his subordinate.

Yeah, she’d need to find a new job, too.

She dumped her toiletries into the bag and couldn’t think of another reason to stay. She’d be back in a few days with Freema to fetch the rest of her stuff, unless Kevin changed the locks, and then she’d put the fish in the heating vents.

“We’re out of strawberries, so it’s just a plain daiquiri.” Freema set two tall glasses down on the coffee table.

“Lame. I was promised strawberry daiquiris.” That wouldn’t stop Georgia from drinking her plain daiquiri, though.

“We drank all the rum, too, so I used the whiskey,” Freema said.

“That’s not a daiquiri.” She didn’t think it was anything. She took a cautious sip. Tart and sweet, it burned down her throat. Georgia sputtered but swallowed the awful concoction. “This is terrible. You ruined really good whiskey.”

“No one likes whiskey and we’re too drunk to go to the store or a bar. They won’t serve us.” Freema leaned against Georgia, holding the vile drink like it might explode. The glass tilted to its side. Spilling was a real possibility.

Georgia grabbed the glass and set it back down on the coffee table. “We’re not that drunk.” Probably. She’d been crashing on Freema’s couch for a week, too down in the dumps to do much of anything. She quit her job, so she did that. She showered, but only because Freema sprayed her with air freshener. Subtle, her friend was not.

That morning, they went to Kevin’s apartment and cleared out the rest of her stuff. She half expected to find her books, clothes, and favorite coffee mugs already packed in boxes and Janice moved in. Instead, nothing had changed, like Kevin expected her to come crawling back. After packing up her meager possessions, they stole Kevin’s expensive bottles of whiskey and rum.

All things considered, Georgia was proud of how maturely she handled the situation. She didn’t destroy Kevin’s property or dump dog poo on the carpet and start up the floor cleaning bot to smear the poo everywhere. She considered it but didn’t do it. See? Mature. She only took two little bottles of alcohol. He owed her.

Just before she left the apartment for the final time, she set all the televisions to Spanish and hid all the remotes. She wasn’t that mature.

To celebrate, Georgia and Freema were determined to get falling-down drunk, watch bad movies, and eat pizza and junk food until they were sick. Or fell asleep. Whatever happened first.

“We’re going to be so sick tomorrow,” Georgia said. Her tolerance for alcohol had seriously diminished. In college, she could stay up all night, drink, eat junk, get only two hours of sleep, and be fresh as a daisy. Now? One beer was her usual limit. Anything more and she had a headache for days. She was so not looking forward to the morning.

She stuffed a handful of chips in her mouth, to soak up the booze.

A knock sounded at the door.

“Pizza’s here!” Freema jumped off the couch and raced to the door, sliding across the floor in her socks. “Um, Georgia. It’s for you.”

Kevin stood in the doorway, wearing a wool coat more expensive than her monthly salary, and looking around Freema’s small apartment with a judgmental frown.

“What do you want?” Georgia crossed her arms over her chest, aware that she was braless—girl’s night in, after all—and a cold breeze came in through the door. She didn’t want Kevin to think her n*****s got hard just because he showed up. It was cold, dammit.

“This is where you’ve been hiding?”

“I’m not hiding,” she replied before she could think better of letting Kevin direct the flow of conversation. That’s what he did: steered her down a path until she agreed with everything he said, even if she disagreed. All their past arguments fell into that pattern. It had to stop. “What are you doing here?”

He reached into the inside pocket of his coat and withdrew an envelope. “I thought I’d drop off your last paycheck,” he said, voice cold. Georgia reached for the envelope, but he drew it back. “By the way, starting a rumor about Janice in the office was highly unprofessional.”

“It’s not a rumor if it’s true.” She shrugged. See, she could be cold and unfeeling too. “The director wanted to know why I was leaving. I didn’t mince words.” She had been fairly blunt stating that she no longer felt comfortable working with her ex-boyfriend while he was f*****g the intern.

“I’ll have to mention it if anyone calls for a reference,” Kevin said.

Georgia narrowed her eyes, not sure what game Kevin played. Did he want an apology? A b*****b for a good reference?

“No, I don’t want a b*****b,” he said.

Shit. She must be drunker than she thought.

“I’ve had enough of your unenthusiastic blowjobs to last a lifetime.”

“Well, it’s hard to get excited about sucking your d**k when you fall asleep.”

“Sunshine, I don’t know how you expect me to be excited when you look like that.” His gaze swept her from head to toe and from the sour look, he found her lacking.

Georgia blushed. She knew she wasn’t a supermodel, but he had to have found her somewhat attractive. They hadn’t had s*x in months, even before the breakup, but she had been ill. Between the near-constant bleeding, the fatigue, and the stomach cramps, she hadn’t felt sexy in a long time.

“Oh s**t. That happened? Sorry! I’m not listening,” Freema said, slamming two pillows on either side of her head.

Yeah, that happened. She had his pecker in her mouth, giving it her all, and he fell asleep. He wasn’t drunk or anything; he just wasn’t interested.

Georgia saw the entirety of their relationship. She had predictable s*x with her boring boyfriend. They had a boring, predictable life where the most exciting thing was a new bagel place opening on the corner. That life was as gray and bland as the color scheme in their apartment. She deserved better. They both did.

Kevin actually did them a favor. Huh.

“Have you been to the apartment yet?” Georgia tried to ask casually and not darting her eyes side to side like a guilty person. Freema coughed dramatically. Yeah, not such a smart question.

“Why?”

“No reason. I got my stuff and left my key.” True enough and not a complete lie.

A figure appeared behind Kevin, holding two pizza boxes.

“Look, we’re in the middle of stuff here. I appreciate you dropping off my last paycheck.” Georgia snagged the envelope while the pizza guy distracted Kevin, then signed for the delivery. “Thanks! Have a good life,” she sang in a far-too-chipper voice, slamming the door shut.

Abruptly, she opened the door again on Kevin, who had not moved. She shouted, “Florida is the sunshine state. Georgia is peaches!” Another slam, this one final. She’d never see Kevin again, God willing. “Fucker,” she muttered.

“He’s the worst,” Freema said, opening the box and helping herself to a slice of barbequed chicken. “We totally need to find you a rebound guy.”

“I don’t want a rebound guy.” She wanted pizza and maybe more whiskey. Her needs were simple.

“You do. Everyone does. It’s like dating law.”

“Oh, well if everyone does it,” she said, adding extra sarcasm to her voice. The sarcasm must not have been obvious because Freema jumped up from the sofa and raced to her tablet computer.

“Let’s sign you up for a dating app,” Freema said.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Pfft. It’s the best idea we’ve ever had. Oh, Celestial Mates. Find your perfect match. Look at the hot guy.” Freema shoved the screen in Georgia’s face. The blue-skinned Fremmian model had no shirt, appeared to be covered in glistening baby oil, and flexed his biceps for the camera.

“Um, he’s blue. Is this an alien hookup app?”

“Don’t be narrow-minded. Blue guys need loving, too. Besides, that’s just the sugar to lure you in. The profiles are totally average.”

Georgia grabbed the tablet and scrolled through the sample profiles. “They’re all aliens. This is an alien hookup app.”

Freema snatched the device back. “Don’t be such a xenophobe. Have you ever dated an alien guy?”

“I’m not a xenophobe,” she protested. She hadn’t dated anyone of extraterrestrial origins but not because she wouldn’t; she just hadn’t been asked out. “You know Kevin was my only boyfriend.”

Freema stuck her tongue out and made a completely mature retching noise. “Such a waste. We have to get you out there and getting some. How about this guy?” turning the tablet to face Georgia, a golden-skinned male with four arms filled the screen.

“A Gyer? I don’t know.”

“What’s wrong with a Gyer? They’re hot. All those hands. Yum.”

“They’re not, you know, binary.” The Gyer did not have distinct male or female genders. They were equally capable of becoming pregnant and also impregnating a partner. Maybe. The details were fuzzy.

Georgia really should have paid attention in her Comparative Biology course in college, otherwise known as Alien Banging 101. The class in a nutshell: humans like to f**k, have f****d every alien they’ve encountered, and can have babies with most of those aliens. Basically, humans were slutty when it came to aliens.

“Do you think they’re, umm, compatible?” Georgia asked.

A grin tugged at Freema’s painted fuchsia lips. “God, I really want to find out. I can think of lots of things to do with four hands.”

“Gross!”

“For hugging.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “p*****t. Okay, profile picture. I got this old one from last summer when we went to the beach.”

“Not the bikini.” The floral two-piece looked so pretty in the store and Georgia thought it flattered her curves, but Kevin didn’t like her showing so much skin. She spent the day covered up with a towel rather than enjoying the sun.

Freema never had those worries, being thinner than Georgia and infinitely cooler. She wore her blonde hair in twin buns, streaked in pastel-colored hair wax, and her friend totally pulled it off. Georgia? She had a hard enough time finding jeans that fit her hips without leaving a gap at the waist. She’d never tried trendy hairstyles, electing to play it safe with the same old haircut.

“Yes, the bikini. You looked super cute with those highlights,” Freema said.

Georgia absently touched the end of her hair. The golden blonde highlights had grown out long ago and hovered at the bottom of her mid-length chestnut hair. “You think I should get highlights again?”

“Yes. It’s not even a question.” Freema continued to fill in personal data in the app. “Tomorrow, let’s have a girl’s day and spoil ourselves. Facials. Manicures. Massages. The works.”

“Sounds brilliant.” She took a slice of barbeque chicken. As she chewed, she grew curious as to what Freema was writing on her behalf. “What does it want to know now?”

“No peeking! It’s a surprise.”

“But you’re talking about me.” She reached for the tablet with greasy fingers.

“Nope.” Freema sprang from the sofa, clutching the tablet. “We’re going to find you a perfectly disreputable bad boy and you’re going to bang your brains out. Doctor’s orders.”

“With tattoos?”

“At least three.”

She’d never dated a bad boy before. That wasn’t part of the plan, but the plan failed her. Going off-script terrified her but thrilled her to her core. “Let’s do it.”