Happy Medium

by Sarah Adler

So she says, “No, it’s actually because I don’t see a point in going out and bothering with other people when I can just stay home and make myself come better than anyone else ever could.”

Charlie tucks his drenched Gilded Creek Goat Farm hat between his seat and the cupholders, leaving his damp and mussed hair uncovered. Seeing it messy instead of in its default wave does something strange to Gretchen’s heart. Nothing worth paying attention to, she’s sure. Probably just some sexual attraction that got lost on its way from her brain to her vagina.

He smiles. “Well, how about this. Go change out of those dirty overalls, put on one of those ridiculous little dresses you brought with you, and we’ll see what we can do to make you a little less bored.”

Charlie moves closer, wrapping his fingers around her cue. He leans in to whisper in her ear, “I probably shouldn’t teach you this. You’re already too powerful as it is.”

It isn’t supposed to be this way. She’s vaguely aware that she’s supposed to be in control, the one to bring him to his knees. And yet if he didn’t have her pinned to the truck’s door, she’s fairly certain she would be kneeling on the asphalt.

“I’d rather not have pictures of me on the Instagram.” “Oh, there are definitely going to be pics of you on ‘the Instagram,’ babe. A tattooed and bearded goat farmer? It’s gonna be a virtual panty-dropping spree.”

I know this sounds ridiculous, but it’s like I can feel . . . her love . . . when I wear something she made. And I didn’t want all that love to go to waste sitting in the back of a closet.”

“Why do it, then?” she asks. “Why do something that’s probably going to hurt?” “Oh, doll,” he says, sounding for the first time like the much older—and perhaps wiser?—soul he actually is. “Because it hurts so much more not to.”

“The whole being-a-dick-to-keep-me-away thing. I’m already away. You’ve expressed very clearly how you feel, and I’m not that desperate, babe. I’m not going to keep lusting after someone who doesn’t want me back.” Thank god lying comes as second nature to her, or that would have been extremely hard to say. “Not wanting you isn’t the issue,” he mumbles.

“So, you took one look at me when I arrived on your doorstep and thought you had me all figured out, that you could see everything I am. But you don’t see anything, Charlie, if you can’t see what’s right in front of your stupid, handsome face.”

She knew, of course, that the whole point of this plan was that Charlie would leave. But she never expected to lose him before he even stepped off the property.