An Illicit Pursuit by Liv Bennett Read Free Book Online Page B

refrigerators of the
families who hired me. Unfortunately, that came to an end, too,
when one particular neighbor called my mother on a Christmas day to
inform her about the missing Christmas cookies and her suspicion
about me being the thief. What happened to all the stories about
Santa’s love for cookies?
    My mother sent me to a therapist and put me
on a strict diet, which worked to some degree. But my real
weight-loss success came when I laid my eyes on Zach in high
school. He was beautiful, handsome, smart, and for some strange
reason thought I was pretty. I forgot all about food and gave my
entire attention to him. To his penis, to be specific. After all,
orgasm triggers the body to release endorphins, the happiness
hormone, doesn’t it? I didn’t need food to feel happy anymore. I’d
play my guitar and compose song after song while riding the high of
sex with Zach.
    And now, after scarfing down a plate full of
cookies, I feel like my life is going back to junior high, where
something always felt missing.
***
    The next morning I wake to the phone buzzing.
I jump up, thinking it’s from Zach, and grab the phone; instead I
find a text from Adam.
    Have you decided about the
transportation?
    I don’t feel like writing back to him, not
before knowing about Zach’s father.
    So I text to Zach, “Hi baby, how did your
father’s surgery go? Is he going to be okay? Missing you
lots.”
    I’d rather call him directly, but his mother
isn’t particularly fond of me for stealing her only child. The
first time I went to have dinner at their home, his mother cornered
me in the kitchen and called me Shiksa. I thought it was Hebrew for
slut. Tears rolling down my face, I ran to Zach and asked him the
meaning of the word. He laughed and told me it meant non-Jewish
girl. It didn’t calm me down. Obviously. The way his mother called
me that sounded like she’d rather have Zach date a Jewish slut than
me, a desperately-in-love Shiksa.
    To this date, Zach’s mother hasn’t
acknowledged our relationship. So, there is no need to irritate her
now, while her husband is struggling with a grave illness.
    The phone buzzes with a new text message.
    “ Wrong recipient. Although I’m missing you
lots too :)”
    What! I quickly check the number to which I
sent the message. Adam. Fantastic! I hit my fist on the bed with
anger at myself. How could I mix the numbers?
    I re-send the text, this time making sure
it’s to Zach.
    Zach replies immediately: “The surgery
went well. We’re waiting for him to wake up. Wish you were
here.”
    Me: “Call me when he wakes up. I love
you.”
    Zach: “Will do. Love you too.”
    I leave the phone back on the nightstand and
slip down under the covers. Tiredness takes over, as if I haven’t
blinked an eye last night. I relax and start easing into sleep when
the phone buzzes again. This time, though, it’s not a text message
buzz but an incoming call. My head still on the pillow, I grab it
and hit answer.
    “You’re intent on not communicating with me,”
Adam speaks, his voice frosty.
    I can be frosty, too. “I’m trying to
sleep.”
    “Is that why I’m getting weird texts from
you?”
    “It was just one text.”
    “Still.” He waits for a moment. I hear him
sigh to the phone. “So, what’s the plan? Want me to pick you up?
I’ll be in Westwood area, anyway.”
    “No, I’ll drive.”
    “As you wish.” He sounds disappointed. “I’ll
text you the address. You can come around one.”
    “Okay, thanks.”
    “See you.”
    I hear a click, and the line goes dead.
Dropping the phone onto the bed, I roll onto my side, wondering how
Miss California would react, had she known how enthusiastically
Adam wants to be my private chauffer. Honestly, why doesn’t he
pursue her? She’s much better than I am in every sense. Is he
thinking I’ll hit it big and be a nation-wide star? Is that why
he’s so persistent, hoping to have a celebrity girlfriend?
    I sleep a little more and wake up with