I immediately step back and turn my face to the side, breaking eye contact. “Reyna?” I ask, pretending to be surprised. “What are you doing?”
“We were worried about you, little Sarah.” She’s playing along. We both know I heard the whole thing. “You were gone for so long.”
“Nice of you to check in on me,” I snap. “And don’t call me little.” I can be polite for Maria, but fuck this bitch, I don’t need to be polite to her face.
“Did you like the little slut’s performance?”
Pretending didn’t last long.
“What?” I say, mostly as filler. I don’t know how I would begin to respond.
“She was a little too eager for my taste,” continues Reyna, ignoring me. “It takes all the fun out of it.”
“That was a game to you?”
“More of a hunt, but she wasn’t the target. She was the bait.”
Goosebumps crawl all over my arms and down my back. I miss my hoodie.
“W-what was the target?”
“You, little Sarah. The show was all for you.”
She licks her lips and I step back, trying to get away from her, but I’m trapped in this stall unless I bull her over. I’m not afraid to tackle a bitch. I can’t let her bully me. She just mind-fucked or hypnotized or something poor June after leaving the table where my best friend and her girlfriend is sitting.
“I bet you enjoyed it,” I say with some backbone, even if it’s faked. “You know who else would love to know about that? Maria.”
“Yes, I imagine she would,” says Reyna.
“You don’t know her at all. She’d kill you if she found out you were cheating.” Maria has severe trust issues after several boyfriends in high school cheated on her. There’s no way she’d put up with Reyna’s shenanigans.
“What would you tell her? That I watched June play with herself and called her a slut? Is that cheating now? Besides, I think it is you who do not know her now. She has changed.”
“Thanks to you?”
“I helped, yes. But, no. She has found her true self. She is a slut, just like little June.”
“Are you some type of predator? You hunt down women and debase them?” Kinks and fetishes are one thing, but no one calls my best friend a slut. Maria is devoted and loyal. She dresses flirty but doesn’t do anything interesting in the bedroom outside of missionary position. She likes the idea of being slutty more than actually being slutty.
“I help women liberate themselves.”
“Sure, you do. You dominate them. Subjugate them.”
“Teach them their true identities.”
“And what, they’re all sluts?”
“Most.”
“What is wrong with you?”
“Don’t you want to know what you are?” She asks, ignoring my question.
“No,” I say in almost a whisper. I don’t need her to tell me. I know already. I’m the girl everyone overlooks. I’m the background. Even Carl, my boyfriend, took years to finally notice me. We were close friends until he finally figured out I had tits he could look at and we become more than friends until we become boyfriend and girlfriend. Even now, our sex is tame when we have it, and we don’t have it often. It’s not his fault. I’m not always in the mood. I guess I’m one of those girls with a low libido. There’s nothing wrong with that. But I’m not a June. I’m not a slut. Besides, that’s none of her business.
“One day you will ask me the question and you will already know the answer. That will be the sweetest of days,” says Reyna, looking above me as if she really can see the future and isn’t spouting some nonsense.
“This is some fucked up power thing for you, isn’t it? You think you’re so irresistible.”
“Some women are designed to be worshipped. Some women do the worshipping. I know which one I am, but which one are you?”
“You know, June gave me her number too. You aren’t some sex goddess to her. She was horny and looking for anything. She would have banged anything that moved this morning. She must have been desperate if she was hitting on me”
“You think too lowly of yourself, little Sarah.” Reyna takes a step towards me. I try to step back, but I have nowhere to go in the stall except into the toilet.
“Don’t call me little.”
“She was in heat, that much is clear. But she was attracted to beauty. Do not underestimate your beauty.” She reaches for the straps of my tank top, but I smack her hand away. “So much fire in you.” She leans closer to me, almost as if to kiss me, “I like that.” I shiver, from what, I don’t know. She leans back and steps away from me, proud of herself.
“Fuck you,” I say without any strength.
“I’m certain one day you will, little Sarah. But that day is not today.”
“You think I’d fuck my best friend’s girlfriend?” I pause. I’ve skipped something obvious. “You think I’d fuck a woman at all?”
“You are too worried about Maria. She was the same, you know. About Jace.”
All the anger is gone from me. All that remains now is cold fear. I don’t know who this woman is. I don’t know what she did to June or what she’s doing to me. But I have to stop her. For Maria, if not for myself.
“What did you do to her?” I ask.
“Nothing she didn’t beg me for. You’ll see. All my takeovers are peaceful. Just like little June. They beg, and they ache. Everyone is so hungry for me. But you Americans are so shameful. So guilty and hurting. I make sure to help clear away the cobwebs before I accept their service. Maria needed healing. I healed her.”
“By controlling her?” The heat is returning to my cheeks. Good. “Dominating her? Telling her what to do and flirting with other women in her presence? Hitting on her best friend? Demeaning her? Is that how you heal her?”
“Precisely.”
“What?”
“She came to me, little Sarah. She came to me. I run a little shop offering advice and counsel to women who are sexually unfulfilled. She was worried about Jace. About the wedding night. Apparently, Jace was, how do you say?, a boring in the bedroom. Thrust. Grunt. Two minutes. Sleep. You have no idea how often I hear this. She wanted to make the night special, but all Jace wanted was fancy lingerie. Men are too simple. She was afraid it was her fault. She wasn’t the sexy one. But I told her the roots of her sexual energy ran deep, and I could help her dig into them. I could show her the true potential bubbling beneath her.”
“You lied? You trapped her. You never told her you were going to make her a lesbian or serve you. She wanted her relationship fixed, and you ruined her.”
“No, darling. She wanted herself fixed, and I did that. Why do you think her sex life was so empty? Not because of Jace, but because of Maria. She wanted to serve someone. Jace was boring and weak. Now she serves me. She wanted sexual pleasure; I pleasure her in ways she thought only possible in pornography. I simply woke her up. Once she was free, she chose me over Jace. That is all. I forced nothing on her but for her to face the truth in herself.”
“She was a lesbian in denial?” I ask suspiciously.
“The term is useless. She pleasures me. I am a woman. I pleasure her. She is a lesbian. She is bisexual. It matters not. You Americans are so lost in your terms. Call her what you will, she is mine.”
I step closer to Reyna. I’m done being scared of this bitch. Psychopath. Sex Goddess. Hypnotist. Spanish bombshell. I don’t give a fuck. I’m going to talk to Jace and we’re going to get Maria back. “She doesn’t belong to you.” My words are deliberate, slow. “She belongs to herself. She belongs to those she loves, which is me and Jace. You don’t own her.”
Reyna smirks, amused. “Perhaps not yet, but soon she will be mine completely. There are so many cobwebs to clear out first. But once I am done cleaning, I can start redecorating.”
“I’m going to stop you.”
She cups my cheek in her hand and looks down at me condescendingly. “I look forward to your trying.”
I shake her hand off my face and press on her sternum with my forefinger, hard. “Get out my way.”
“One last thing, little one.” She bends her knees and reaches for the buckle for my jeans. I gasp in surprise and step backwards, but she follows. I try to take her hands off of me, but God, she’s strong. Her face turns from a smile to a snarl as I’ve backed up against the toilet of the stall, nowhere else to turn. My jeans are unbuckled. I try to scream, but one of her hands slams down on my mouth and over my nose. She squeezes. My hands scratch at her hand, her arm, but she doesn’t move. She leans in against me, at her full height looming inches over me. The snarl recedes.
“Shhh, darling. Don’t scream. I’m not going to hurt you.” She lowers herself until all I can see are her bright amber eyes. Her beautiful eyes. “I would never hurt you, okay?”
I don’t move.
“Nod if you understand that Reyna would never hurt you.”
Of course, that’s bullshit. She’s got me pinned in bathroom stall. I think I’m a few minutes away from being raped by this woman. I close my eyes shut, but she squeezes my face until they open wide from the pain. I can’t breathe, and the corners of my vision are starting to go blurry. I’m having trouble focusing. There is the stall behind Reyna. The mirror behind Reyna. And then there is Reyna. Reyna and her eyes. Burning amber. Shining.
Everything is going dark except for her eyes. Her eyes are sharp and bright. Everything else is soft in comparison. Everything is dim. Like a cold night back in Massachusetts. A winter night. I love winter. You curl up on the couch when it gets dark so early. Grab a book. Sit by the fire. Everything is dark, but you can see from the crackling fire. The fire glows amber. The whole room is amber. The book is amber. The world is amber. Sarah is amber. And amber is safe.
Of course, I’m safe. I nod with understanding. The hand slips from my mouth and nose. I don’t gasp in air because I’m safe. I don’t scream because I’m safe. I don’t close my eyes because I love this book. It’s my favorite.
“Good girl,” says the fire or the book or the winter. “Now look at me, look at Reyna and truly see her.”