Shadow Lab by Brendan Deneen

Author:Brendan Deneen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blackstone Publishing

Sandra leans on the corkboard divider of Addie’s cubicle as Addie focuses on her computer monitor. “So obviously, in my head I’m going, I dare you to take it.” The corkboard bends under the weight of her gesticulating. “And then he does, and I’m like, Well, that’s that.”

Addie types mechanically, willing Sandra to leave her the fuck alone. “That’s annoying.”

“So annoying. Anyway, because I know you’re gonna ask, I did let him come over, but never again. Lesson learned. That’s the last time I offer to pay on a date.”

Addie nods curtly as Sandra’s cellphone pings in her pocket. Sandra performatively rolls her eyes, desperate for Addie to ask who it is.

Addie doesn’t. “It’s him.”

Addie digs her hand into her sweater pocket. Gripping the glasses, a primal need pulses through her like it has for the past several weeks, ever since she bought them. Ever since she met Nima. Addie stands. “I have to pee.”

“Ugh. ’Kay, I’m coming. Like, how am I supposed to respond to this?”

Sandra waves her phone in Addie’s face as she nips at Addie’s heels, following her to the bathroom. At the door, Addie turns, “Actually, I have to take a shit.”

Sandra’s eyes go wide. A hiccuped giggle escapes her throat. “Since when did you have such a potty mouth?”

Addie blazes into the bathroom. Locks a stall door. Sits on the toilet lid and lets the tiny flicker of power from surprising Sandra move through her. But it’s not enough. Hands shaking like an addict in need of a fix, she pulls the glasses out of her pocket. Methodically unfolds the arms, sets them on her nose. In a flash, Addie flicks through the lives—putting on and removing the glasses as fast as she can—the skeleton, the old woman, the bookkeeper—until she breathes a sigh of relief when she falls into . . .

Nima.

And they’re together again. Addie feels Nima feel her. Feels Nima enjoy it. Then, they’re breathing raggedly. Goosebumps are prickling their skin. Sweat pools under their arms, at the soles of their feet, in the palms of their hands that claw at sticky sheets. Every muscle in their body tenses as a wild roar bursts through their mouth. And Addie, inside Nima, lets throbbing pleasure undulate through her. They collapse in a heap. A peeling radiator screams in a corner of Nima’s bedroom. A sliver of grimy sunlight knifes through a slit in a curtain. They prop themselves up on stained pillows. A woman emerges from underneath the tangled, yellowed sheets and slithers up their torso. She’s distractingly beautiful, with a jawline that could sink ships, start wars. But Nima just reaches for a pack of cigarettes. Lights one.

Nima’s date twists her long, raven hair into a bun, wipes her mouth. Nibbles on her swollen bottom lip, tasting Nima. What Addie would give to taste Nima. Probably everything. Years of her life. She wants it so bad, it physically aches.

The woman eyes the crumpled cigarette pack. “Can I?”

Addie feels Nima smirk as she takes a languorous drag and hands her lover the lit cigarette.

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