The Fall Risk

by Abby Jimenez

“Oh, Seth.” She bit her lip. “Have you dated anyone since?” “No. I’m too afraid. Once incest is on the table, it’s hard to trust again.”

Seth was right. I guess if I had to be backed into a corner, the corner should at least be the color I wanted it to be.

Seth glanced at me with an “I told you so” look. “Okay, Dorothy? I don’t like that language, remember? We said we weren’t calling her that anymore.” “Well, she is a whore.” “She’s a cousin fucker is what she is,” someone volunteered.

Have you ever heard of the orange peel theory?” Izzy asked. “No, what’s that?” It was midnight, I was lying in bed. Seth and I said good night half an hour ago after eating way too many Whore cookies and watching Netflix from his laptop on the landing. “You give a guy an orange and ask him to peel it for you,” she said. “It tells you what kind of person he is.” “How?” “Because it’s such a small ask. If he complains about it or forgets, he’s probably gonna complain and forget to do other shit that’s more important.”

“Did you just send what I think you sent me?” “An unsolicited deck pic? Yes, yes, I did.” I snorted. “If you trimmed those hedges, it would look bigger,” I said.